Chapter Text
It was midnight exactly. The city was silent except for a few dogs barking in the distance. The young man walked down the dark alleyway, hands in the pockets of his thick woolen coat. A Beretta 92FS INOX pistol was wedged between his belt and skin. The metal was cold to the touch. He approached the designated place confidently, knowing his guys were following closely behind him. These two men were Jean Kirschtein and Reiner Braun. They flanked Armin on both sides and finally, they stopped under a bright but flickering street lamp. In front of them waited another young man, shaking with fear. His hands were in his pockets and he stared at the blond-haired dealer. Armin smiled kindly and walked right up to the frightened man. Jean and Reiner tensed and stepped forward, but stopped when their boss gave them the signal to back off. Armin put a hand on the guy's shoulder and innocently asked, "Why're you shaking so much?"
Immediately, the guy burst out crying. "Please just give me a few more days. I swear I'll have the money. Just a few more..." he pleaded.
Armin tsked and put both his hands back in his pockets. He shook his head like he was disappointed, his long blond hair brushing his neck as it moved. He pinched the bridge of his nose. "How many more days, Deiter. I’m tired of waiting, time to pay your dues.” He moved towards Deiter, who scrambled away as Armin
"But-but, I-"
Armin cut him off by grabbing the collar of Deiter's shirt forcefully. He pulled the taller man closer to him. "No more kidding around, Deiter. Now, why the hell don't you have my money?" he calmly asked, his eyes belied his words. A few feet away, Jean and Reiner could practically feel the vibrations in the air caused by Armin's anger, despite his seemingly calm stature. It was way worse for Deiter, who unfortunately was taking the full brunt of it. They almost felt sorry for the man. Almost.
"I-" Before Deiter could answer, Armin let him go and pushed him onto the ground. He fell onto the muddy stone street with a loud cry of pain. Armin stood over him, his blue-gray eyes glinting in the light. Then, Armin stepped on Dieter's head with his black steel toed boots. He ground his foot into the side of Dieters face and pushed him further into the ground. Dieter groaned miserably. "Y'know, there's something called taking responsibility for your actions. I don't want to have to do this but you've left me no choice. With you having a familyand all." Dieter froze. Armin took his foot off and walked back to where Jean and Reiner stood.
"I don’t care what you do to me... but please don't hurt my family," Deiter begged the seventeen year old. More crying ensued and the more Armin heard, the shorter his patience got.
Until, "Shut up!" Armin yelled, his back to the man. "Stop your blathering. Fortunately for you, I don't particularly like hurting children or people who don't piss me off. You deal with the consequences." Armin strolled to where Reiner stood, not looking at either of them.He sauntered up to Dieter and pressed the gun to the center of his forehead.
"Thank you," he heard and Armin’s eyes widened in surprise before pulling the trigger. The sound from the gun resounded on the walls around them and into the quiet night. Armin stood there, his mind flashing back to his grandfather's death. He remembered the short silver pistol that was positioned in the center of his forehead. He remembered his father’s hand holding that gun and pulling the trigger. He was jolted back from the memory when Reiner shook his shoulder.
"Hey Armin, are you okay?" he asked him and Armin nodded.
“Uh, yeah. Let’s go," Armin and they quickly walked back to the shiny black Mercedes-Benz. The murder scene kept replaying in his head. He tried to push out down but the memory was just too fresh, even if it was from 5 years ago. Sometimes he wondered why he was still in this line of business; The very line that caused his grandfather to be murdered in cold blood. He never wanted to be like his father, but too many people were counting on him. The two men beside him especially. When Jean opened the back door for Armin, Armin found himself staring at him.
"Boss?" Jean asked him, bringing his attention to the door. Armin quickly got in, Jean following closely behind him.
Armin flinched at the tender hand on his shoulder. “Yes,” he innocently smiled at Jean. Jean raised an eyebrow before finally nodding. Armin leaned forward in his seat, the leather squeaking, and looked at Reiner in the rearview mirror. “Nice job, guys,” he complimented them.
“I wouldn’t say it was ‘nice’…” Reiner responded, keeping his eyes focused on the road. Armin quickly realized his mistake and covered his mouth. The car was full of awkward silence. “...Uh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean-”
“We get what you mean, Arm,” Jean assured him and patted him on the head.
“Hey…” Armin pouted.
“Yeah, thanks. We know ya mean well, buddy,” Reiner added. As Armin tried to fix his hair and playfully chided Jean, he was really grateful to have Jean and Reiner as his two best friends. It wasn’t long before they reached their destination: a two-story building that had been abandoned by a small retail agency. It was supposed to have been demolished a few years back but his superiors pulled some strings and quickly claimed the building for a new business to take root. A travel agency. The Arlert family owned a double-faced business, on one side they helped the people of Shiganshina get away and on the other, they dealt drugs and caused trouble for the police. All a part of daily life for them.