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Armin’s eyes swelled with unshed tears. He doesn’t want to cry, not in front of the two of them, not while they laughed at him, and especially not while they went through the bag of groceries he just bought. Payday wasn’t for another couple of days, his grandfather had trusted him with their last couple of bucks. He opened his mouth to say something but the stinging made him attempt to swallow the lump in his throat.
“Where’s the candy?” Armin couldn’t remember his name, but he does remember seeing him in class. His blonde hair is rowdy and he’s so much bigger than Armin, it’s frightening. His friend, another kid from his class, grabs the bag with a frown and pulls out the roll of bread.
“What is this?” He asks while waving it in the air, once, twice, three times. He throws the bread on the floor and the lump in Armin’s throat grows in size.
“Can you guys move?” There’s a strong yet small feminine voice from behind Armin. He turns to look at a girl, blonde with blue eyes, standing behind him. She looks calm, bored almost, and he wonders who she is because he’s never seen her before. She blinks and shakes her head, reminding him to move.
He’s embarrassed but the girl keeps looking into his eyes as she walks to stand beside him.
“Do you have candy?” The boy who threw his bread on the floor asks, and since their attention is glued to the girl, Armin leans down to grab his dinner only to be kicked roughly in the shoulder. He flinches but reaches for the bread regardless, his attempts halted with another kick that is so strong he yelps and falls back.
“Do you have a brain? You're blocking the door and I need you to move.” She glances down at the boy on the ground, pointing. “Why are you guys beating him up?”
“Because he didn’t get us candy and if you don’t- your next! I don’t care if you're a girl.”
“Yeah! Better yet,” His companion piped up, holding up a fist. “Why don’t you just give us your money!?”
Armin looks up from the floor, fresh tears mark his skin. “Please leave her alone.”
“I don’t need you to protect me, worry about yourself first.” She says with a frown before flipping her long bangs behind her ears. “How old are you anyways?” She asks the boy's bullies.
“We’re twelve, why?” The boy crosses his arm and pumps up his chest, trying to intimidate her.
She was surprised no one from the small bodega has come outside to see what the commotion was. The streets were oddly empty for this time of the day too. But alas, Annie wasn’t in the mood for this. She had a long day.
“Daddy says not to beat up anyone younger than me.” She shrugs as if it was the most obvious statement. Then, as Armin watches horrified and worried for her, she walks up to the tallest of the two boys and punches him square in the nose. There’s a muted crunch that makes his insides turn and almost instantly blood starts to pour out of the boy who had just fallen on the floor while holding his nose.
His friend steps back, horrified. Then, with an angry sneer, runs at Annie blindly. She barely blinks, Armin is forced to watch in frozen shock as her foot comes flying up and connects with the side of the boy's torso. His second bully curls up on the concrete screaming in pain as he holds onto his side. The girl, once again, tucks her hair behind her ears and without so much as breaking a sweat, turns to Armin as he slowly stands up- fearing he’s next. “Is this bread yours?” She asks, pointing.
“Y-yeah,” He stutters, quickly finding some courage to swallow his emotions. “It’s all we have to eat for the next couple of days- please give it back!” He begs as she picks it up from the floor. He isn’t sure if he’s next, but he really wouldn’t want to get beaten up by three different people in one day, then go home empty handed to his grandfather.
There's a long beat of silence as Annie stares at the screaming duo on the floor. “Do they do this to you often?”
“Unfortunately.” Armin replies with a sigh, straightening up while rubbing his shoulder.
“Don’t you ever hit them back?” She asks in confusion, her attention is zeroed in on Armin now, blue eyes so bright they make him flush.
“I don’t believe in fighting back…”
“It’s a shame, what’s your name and can I borrow this?” She holds the bread in the air, “I’ll buy you a new one.”
“I really need to take that home-”
“What’s your name?” She interrupts with a small glare, rushing him to respond, and before he could even stutter out his name properly she grabs hold of the boy who’s cradling his side and starts beating him… With Armin’s bread. The thuds of impact echoed in his brain as he gawked at what she was doing. After a couple of more blows, she drags him across the concrete and moves him closer to the bully with the bleeding nose, then starts beating him with the bread too.
When they’re sobbing and she’s satisfied and the bread is ruined she stops and holds her hand out. “Give me your money.” She demands and Armin is both amazed and horrified at the terror in their eyes as they empty out their pockets into her hands. “Now go home. If I see you bothering Armin again I’ll do more than break your nose or your rib.”
They stumble away as quietly and fast as they could, Armin is baffled. He’s thankful for the help but disgusted with the violence he just witnessed. The girl walks into the store, he stares at the specks of blood, in mild stupor. By the time he gathers himself enough to stand up, she’s back out with another loaf of bread in a bag. “Hurry and go home, Armin.” She says with a sigh as she hands him the bag.
“Wait- what’s your name?” He’s in a stupor, so he grabs the bag with loose hands.
“It’s Annie. Annie Leonhart, I just moved here.” She shrugs and just as quickly as she came, she’s leaving.
Armin is left with the aftermath of her violence and although he wanted to be the good person in the situation and help them out, the screaming was starting to draw attention. He’s sure they’re just around the corner. He’s also been gone for too long, he didn’t want his grandfather to leave the house and find him.
There's a small sense of satisfaction he can’t seem to shake as he rushes home. When he gets there, there’s more in the bag than just bread. A small bag of cheese and meats at the bottom, along with crumbled change that Armin quickly recognizes as his bullies money.
To avoid the questioning his grandfather is sure to give him, he pockets the money and later explains that he got a discount at the store, when he returns with more food.
The next week, when he goes to school, Annie is introduced as the new student in his sixth grade class. There hasn’t been any repercussions in his direction for the injured kids, and they hadn’t made it to class, either. Armin isn’t sure how to deal with that, he feels like any moment he’d be pulled aside and his grandfather would get called.
Regardless of his worries, Annie barely pays any mind to him when she takes her seat. At lunch time, she sits next to him. He’s doing his best not to gawk, or flinch, or even fidget. But after their lunches are eaten in silence, she turns towards him with a sigh. “I really hate introducing myself and getting all this attention. If you don’t mind, can you walk me to the next class? It’s the least you can do for that stupidity you made me witness the other day.”
He isn’t sure how to take that remark, but he does follow through on helping her here and there throughout the day. Annie is a stranger who went out of her way to help him against two kids from another class that bothered him to no end. Helping her find her way around school was the least he could do for her.