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Every month the Survey Corps leaves the safety of the walls and ventures outside them. It comes as no surprise, then, to anyone, that following the 56th Expedition is the 57th.
For a few days Mike and his squad remain ignorant of the importance of the fifty-seventh expedition; they are too far from Headquarters to know more than the fact that it will probably involve, somehow, in some capacity, the titan shifter Eren Jaeger.
It’s almost easy to smile before they know of the plans for the 57th Expedition and the inevitable (or perhaps, they all wonder after, not) outcome of it. Home in time for lunch, except for those who will never see home again. The march through Karanese is slow and plodding, hearts sluggish, eyes downcast like their lips as the crowd around them surges, questions, prods at fresh wounds with words.
After it’s over their ignorance returns, haunts them as they hover anxiously in a small hideout within Wall Rose. Their hands tremble with the knowledge of the deaths they didn’t personally witness but may as well have; they’ve all been in the Survey Corps long enough to know how their comrades must have died. Nanaba thinks of Petra’s smile, and Gelgar of Auruo’s tough-guy façade. Henning recalls Gunther’s solitude; Lynne misses Eld’s sense of humor. Mike, at the end of the day, considers Dita’s beloved Charlotte. Is she still out there somewhere alone, or is she as dead as he is? And what kind of man loves his goddamn horse so much that he never forgets to tell her he loves her?
They sit around together in that little house when the 104th aren’t looking and think: when was the last time we felt normal, felt natural, felt like ourselves? When was the last time we were able to smile without choking on it?
They remember of course, after a moment, that last scene on the last night they were allowed to be happy, but it seems to them to exist half a lifetime away. It’s out of reach, impossible; it’s not something they’ll ever be able to get back.
It’s not something they’ll ever experience again.
Gelgar laughed from somewhere behind Nanaba, the slightly too-loud one he always did when he was a little too drunk and way too pleased with the world. Henning’s calm voice came next, filled with amusement.
Nanaba hardly paid them any attention, even as Lynne shouted something. She glanced over the chessboard in front of her and took an extra minute to study her next move even though she knew what it was going to be, even though Mike knew he was toast.
Finally her fingers reached forward, settled over a pawn.
Mike twitched forward, interested. Maybe she would make a mistake. She could see the spark of hope in his eyes, and she let it stay there for another moment before her fingers strayed to her knight. Mike settled back again and shrugged helplessly as she said, “Checkmate.”
He smiled at her, just a little, not at all upset that he’d lost the game. Mike was not competitive enough to be upset by losing, particularly against an opponent who possessed a great deal of skill and patience for a game like chess.
“Wow, Mike,” Lynne said, grinning over at them, sauntering up behind Nanaba with a walk that suggested she’d had almost as much to drink as Gelgar had. “She crushed you.”
“Her win wasn’t by that large of a margin,” Henning cut in, eyeing the board. “It’s not like his king is out by itself.”
Gelgar draped an arm over Lynne’s shoulder. “Geesh, don’t you know that’s how it is? The queen goes out with her king. She loves him ‘n shit. The game’s basically over if the queen dies too. Like he just loses the will to keep running or somethin’.”
“You know this is a game, right?” Mike asked him.
“Sure. Look, you got your castle, too. ‘N your bishop. Not gonna leave the king to die alone. That’s unromantic, you know.”
“It’s not romantic, either,” Henning said, making a face.
“Oh yeah? What is romantic?”
“Dancing,” Lynne suggested.
“Then I must be very romantic,” Gelgar insisted. “I’m the best dancer here. The most danceringest dancer. Henning, bud, you should play us a tune.”
Lynne rolled her eyes. “I’m not dancing with you.”
“Why not? I’m pretty okay-lookin’ and I can dance better than you can.”
“What? I doubt that.”
“I challenge you to it, then. You can’t beat me.”
“You won’t trick me that way. I’ll dance with Nanaba. Or Mike. Or myself.”
“What ‘bout Henning? Why’s he always get left out?”
“You can’t dance with the guy who’s playing the music, stupid.”
“Stupid? You’re the stupid one, dummy. Can’t believe one of my queens won’t dance with me.”
“One? How many queens you got, huh?”
Gelgar glanced over at the chess board and then reached around Nanaba to snatch both queens off the board. He stared at them for a long moment before he put the white one on Nanaba’s head.
“I got two. Nanaba’s the white one ‘cause she’s Nanaba. And you’re the dark shadowy one ‘cause,” he continued, dropping it down the front of Lynne’s shirt, “you’re kind’ve evil.” Before she could protest, he grinned: “I love it, though. And you. And all of you. All my buddies.”
Nanaba leaned back and shot Mike an amused look.
“I think you’ve had too much to drink, Gelgar,” he said, eyebrows lifted slightly, his own smile perfectly visible beneath his mustache.
“Nonsense. No such thing as too much.” He wrapped an arm around Henning and an arm around Lynne and tried to grab Nanaba and Mike into his hug but could only get his hands onto their shoulders. “It’s group hug time you pieces of shit.”
Lynne grabbed Nanaba and Henning grabbed Mike and the white queen fell off of Nanaba’s head. When it hit the floor, Nanaba shifted her weight and asked: “So if Lynne and I are queens, what are you, Gelgar?”
“Me?” He grinned and whispered conspiratorially: “Pawns.”
“A pawn?” Henning asked, making another face. “Whatever for?”
“Pawns,” he clarified. “Mike’s the king, my favorite women in the world are queens, you’re the castle-thing, and I’m pawns. All of ‘em. A million of me. Gelgarsplosion.”
“There aren’t a million pawns on a chessboard, dummy,” Lynne said.
“Whatever. The point is that pawns don’t ever die for nothin’ and there’s always plenty of ‘em around to protect the more important pieces, ya dig? I got my buddies’ backs.”
There was a moment of silence where Nanaba looked to Mike and Mike looked to her and nobody wanted to say anything, but finally Gelgar broke it himself again, his voice a whisper of awe:
“A million of me,” he repeated.
“Please no,” Henning said at the same time as Nanaba managed, “That’s too many.”
“Eleventy billion of me,” he suggested.
“That’s way too many,” Mike said.
“I can’t even imagine that many of you,” Lynne told him. “You’re so drunk right now.”
“I can still dance,” he said. “Lemme show ya.”
“You probably can’t even touch your toes right now.”
“I can’t touch ‘em anyway. They’re too far away.”
“Mike can touch his toes,” Nanaba said, “so you have no excuse.”
Gelgar’s eyebrows shot up. “What? No way.”
Mike shot her a look, but she just smiled innocently at him. After a bit of a sigh and some prodding from Gelgar and Lynne both, he shrugged out of the group circle to lean over to not only touch his toes, but wrap his fingers around the toes of his boots.
“That’s probably illegal somewhere,” Lynne said.
“It’s ‘cuz he’s got, like, super long arms.” Gelgar squeezed Lynne and Henning too tight and Nanaba ducked out from under Lynne’s arm to find freedom. “He was born with those arms probably. It was awkward for a while, ‘til he grew into ‘em.”
Lynne snorted and buried her face against Gelgar’s shoulder. Gelgar’s face remained serious as Henning rolled his eyes.
“That’s ridiculous,” he said.
“But you’re picturing it, aren’t you?” Nanaba asked.
Henning’s brow furrowed. “I wish I wasn’t.”
“What’s that wrapped around the baby’s neck?” Gelgar asked, trying to sound like a shocked midwife but mostly just managing to sound drunk. His voice shifted pitch: “Holy shit it’s just his arms!”
“What were you born with, Gelgar?” Mike asked, trying not to smile and failing.
“My charming personality,” he said.
“There’s nothing charming about it,” Lynne said, peeling away from him. “You were born with your hair just like that. Styled perfectly. And Henning was part of a set of twins, except the second baby was really just a lute.”
Henning shuddered. “That’s horrifying.”
“What about Nanaba?” Mike asked.
It was her turn to shoot Mike a look.
“Ah, yes, Nanaba the delight.” Gelgar swayed a little on his feet as Henning let go of him. “Henning my bud, you should answer this one, and make it good or I’ll write to your family and tell ‘em—I dunno, that you—that…well, something.”
Henning stared at her for a long time.
“I know,” he said at last. “Nanaba was born like most babies: naturally. There were no issues. She cried and cried and her little face was all screwed up and irritated until she was cleaned off and wrapped up. And then… Then she opened her eyes, and she was wearing that expression.” He turned to Mike, then to Gelgar and Lynne. “You know the one. Determined to take on everything that came her way.”
“I thought you had my back, Henning,” Nanaba told him, trying to scowl. The corner of her lips twisted up anyway as Mike covered his mouth to keep from laughing, no doubt at the image that came to mind for him.
“Nah, it’s Gelgar that has your back, remember?”
But Gelgar was too busy laughing into Lynne’s hair while she had her face turned into his shoulder to hide her snorting. They were both terrible. Really.
“Mike?” she asked, turned toward him.
It just made it worse.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I just… The look—when you—“ The threatening grin erupted, and even Mike’s second attempt at an apology, which shook with suppressed laughter, wasn’t enough to keep Nanaba from slapping her forehead with her palm.
“I won’t forget this betrayal, Mike,” she said.
He slapped a hand over his mouth to cover his crooked teeth and rubbed it down his face as if to wipe the laughter from his expression. It remained in his eyes. “But it’s fine if I was born with frighteningly long arms. I see how it is.”
“The better to hug your buds with,” Gelgar inserted dramatically, leaning on Henning again. Lynne was still snorting against his shoulder. “My arms’re too short…so it’s up to you. C’mon, let’s do it.”
Henning didn’t even try to roll his eyes. Even he was smiling. “This is stupid,” he said, but nobody believed he felt that way at all, least of all Nanaba.
“Come on, Mike,” she said, stepping against his side before she pulled one arm over her shoulders. “Put your long arms to good use.”
Gelgar moved into the huddle dragging the other two with him. “Can you skip rope with them, too, Mike?”
Lynne’s laughter just grew louder as Henning muttered out a, “Good God, I didn’t need that image.”
“Starting tomorrow, no more drinking,” Mike said, and tried to get his arms around all of them at once. “For any of you.”
“If you can pick us all up I’ll stop drinking,” Gelgar said, and then seemed to think better of it, for he straightened his back slightly and grinned. “For like, a whole week, even. I know, it’s very generous. Let’s see ya try it, though.”
“You don’t think I can?” Mike asked.
“I dunno,” Gelgar said. “That’s a lotta weight to lift all at once ‘n stuff. I mean like a thousand pounds or something, right?”
“And you make up half that by yourself,” Lynne said, pinching Gelgar hard in the side.
“All a hundred percent solid muscle,” he insisted, wriggling as if to escape her.
“This will end badly,” Henning said.
“Let’s do it anyway. No time like the present ‘cause gifts—hah. Or something, I dunno.”
“You’re not doing anything but sitting there.”
“To see if Mike can pick us all up at once.”
“I can do it,” he said, and squeezed them all hard like he was trying to carry a load of rolled up maps vertically in his arms. Then he shifted his weight and grunted as he tried to lift them with his back—which Nanaba fully intended to scold him about later.
The sound of surprise Gelgar made as Mike managed to lift all of them off the ground turned into wild laughter when, only a moment later, as he tried to move with them, he stepped on the white queen and pitched backward.
“Well,” Mike said from the ground, his entire squad sprawled out next to him, Nanaba half-tucked against his side, “I said I could do it, just…not for how long.”