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Summary
Armin and Jean stand on two polar opposite sides of the battlefield, reaching forward in an attempt to clasp their fingers together. Jean's hands are marred with blood and death, dripping from his very soul and etching to the floor. Armin doesn't mind, not when he can't see it like Jean can. Not when everything is so messed and convoluted that Armin appreciates any small amount of time with Jean. Diving into the criminal underworld and screaming into the void wasn't a mistake... it was a path. Connecting two souls forever even if they don't know it.