Work Text:
Two boys lazily lay under the shade of a large oak tree on one of the season’s first fine days, their cropped brown jackets containing the seal of the Training Corps folded underneath their heads to serve as pillows albeit thin and rather useless. An afternoon of rest was ahead of them, a small but worthy reward for the draining work they had been assigned to do in the morning when Commander Shadis ordered their squad to run a hundred laps around the training grounds.
“It killed me,” Jean had gasped earlier. “I think my soul has separated from my body already.”
Naturally, Eren took this as a challenge with the prize being established and forced himself to run ten, twenty, fifty more laps than Jean to prove a point. Armin had tried to keep up, but in the end, both of them had reached the verge of passing out on the tracks to Reiner and Connie’s howls of laughter.
They had invited Mikasa to tag along with them to hide away, so that she too could take pleasure in the cool afternoon breeze and the sparkling waters of the far-off lake, but she had declined, claiming that she yearned for rest after another weary week of military training.
It was disdainful to them; after all, who could resist such a peaceful change of scenery by the cool lake? Despite this, Eren and Armin found themselves perfectly content being alone with just the two of them.
“Hey, Armin,” Eren called, his knuckles impishly draped over his eyes to shield them from the sunshine falling through the trees. “Armin!”
“Yeah?”
Armin’s response tone is softer, but just as filled with a hollow sleep. He had been quietly napping underneath the hanging branches of the tall tree, careful to choose a good spot where the summer sunlight could not testify his eyes while he slept.
Either way, he was certain that he would have fallen asleep soundly, anyway. Another week of military training had been strenuous and tiring, as it always was, and his lack of physical ability had meant that his body had been challenged yet again.
“Are you going to do the forest exercise again?” asked Eren. “I think I will. The anti-Titan training will be really useful for when I enlist in the Survey Corps. What if they make me do a test of skill before I can join or something of that sort?”
“Ah…” Armin trailed off. He was going to do the forest exercise again, the training that featured the kinaesthetic practice of swinging through the trees and using one’s omnidirectional mobility gear to slash at the napes of dummy Titans for the sake of climbing up the ranks of the 104th Training Corps, but only because he had failed on his first attempt. “Yes, I’m planning to do it again.”
“Excellent!” said Eren, clapping his hands together. “Now the three of us – Mikasa, too – are going to redo the training together. I thought that you’d rather do something else with your time. I know how much you hate performing the real-life application of all the physics we learned.”
“You and Mikasa do it for the sake of being fit and healthy,” Armin said in embarrassment. “I’m just doing it to keep my grades up.”
Commander Shadis had been particularly harsh with Armin when he slammed into a large tree trunk for the nth time. Had it been anyone else in the class, his friends might have laughed, but it had been such a recurring accident that all they felt was pity for him.
Back then, when Bertholdt asked from a branch above if he was alright, Shadis beat Armin to answer and yelled, “The goddamn butterflies below us fly faster than you, Arlert! Show us how to be of real use other than Titan fodder, eh?”
He shuddered thinking of it.
“Well, what’s wrong with wanting to keep your grades up?” Eren asked, confused. “Training is training, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, but there’s only so much that classroom smarts can do for me,” he sighed. “If I ever have to face a real Titan in the future, I probably won’t survive. I’ll probably be a nuisance to the rest of my squad. Maybe I’ll get someone killed…”
“What?” Eren demanded. “Where did that way of thinking come from? Come on, Armin, you’re doing great. You’re a capable guy, I’m sure you’ll be a great soldier.”
“I’m not like you,” he said in a small voice. “Or Mikasa. You’re both stronger than me, way stronger.”
“Well, where’s the shame in admitting that?” Eren asked impatiently. “You’re much smarter than me and Mikasa even if our heads were together.”
“But as a soldier…”
“You don’t have to do something you don’t want, Armin,” Eren insisted. His voice was washed with waves of concern. “Look, you’re way too valuable to be a foot soldier. You should be a strategist.”
Despite himself, Armin smiled. “And what, a commander? Mikasa should be that.”
“It doesn’t suit her. Anyway, where is Mikasa? She never likes to hang out with us on afternoons like these.”
“I think she went to exercise,” he replied. “She said she didn’t have enough time to do her workout earlier this morning, so she’s doing it now. Mina tells me that she always does crunches.”
“That girl works too much,” Eren muttered, although envious of his friend. Such effortless talent Mikasa had, full to the brim with the perfection that he could only make up for with aptitude and dedication. “She should really learn to look out for herself instead of others.”
“You know what she’s like, she’s always doing her best to stay in shape,” said Armin. “Though I wish she would let herself have some fun with us now and then… or at least learn to have fun with the other girls in our class. They don’t seem to know much about her since she’s so quiet.”
Eren jerked his chin upwards, barely in acknowledgment. The relentless heat of the sun and the sweet winds blowing throughout the sky were slowly making his dull mind lethargic and sluggish. He rapidly blinked and yawned, his mouth cracked wide open, like that of a cat. He turned over on his side so that he was now facing his friend, who was disinterestedly playing with a blade of grass between his fingers.
“Hey, Armin,” he said.
“Yeah?” Armin turned to look at him.
He jutted a little, startled since he didn’t hear Eren turn. He was utterly motionless, which was uncanny for someone as fidgety and uncontrollable as him. He was different when he was with Armin.
So close they were and they could count the eyelashes on each other’s eyes, the specs of childhood that were stubbornly clinging to their adolescent visages. Eren breathed, and they were again aware of the breeze, the grass, and the comfortable silence between them under a blanket of sky blue.
“I guess it’s just the two of us today.”
Armin hummed in agreement. To be honest, he was a little relieved. He wasn’t sure if he could bear to feel the humiliation of both Eren and Mikasa questioning him about the military, about training, about his opinions on things that did not gain his interest, about themselves. It was a little selfish to think such things, especially when he held his childhood friends so dear to his heart, but he also concluded that it was simply human nature to feel envious, jealous, or left out in groups of three.
There was nothing that needed to be said. Both boys closed their eyes – one with greens as fresh as the dewy grass, littered with blooming flowers below, the other with blues as bright as the morning sky, with its spiral cloud spread above.
A pleasant coolness reinstated the warmth of the light sweat pouring down their backs, and above them, a leaf hung then fell from the tree. The rushing breeze carried it away before it could land on either boy’s face and disturb them from their restful slumber. Neither of them noticed it; all they could feel were the wind, the ground, and the presence of the beloved companion beside them.
Eren cracked open an eye to peer at the boy beside him. Armin tried to hide it, but the slight furrow of his eyebrows in worry was visible to his watchful eye. There was a rustle of grass and leaves beside him, and Armin opened his eyes as well to see Eren sitting up and reaching over to grab his leather satchel, which had been lying beside his head.
“I almost forgot to tell you,” said Eren, pulling out two wraps that contained a bag of apples. “I brought fruit for us to eat.”
Armin’s eyes widened. Food was rather scarce in the Training Corps, and it was next to a miracle that Eren had managed to find any leftover rations for snacking on. Fruits were even more so. Eren laughed upon seeing the look of utter disbelief and bewilderment on Armin’s face.
“What? Where did you get these from?”
“I stole them from Sasha,” Eren said triumphantly, pleased to see Armin’s expression of joy and to hear the laughter erupting from his throat. “I know it sounds bad… and I did feel bad when I was doing it. But then I figured that she probably has a back-up stash hidden somewhere else.”
Armin’s heart lurched a little. He had stolen this from Sasha… had Eren been lurking around the girl’s barracks? And if so, for whom? He couldn’t help but feel jealous; Eren was his first friend, the only person who had consistently been in his life since they were small children. Being surrounded by incredible, new people their age had been a wonderful experience, but their nobility was always a cruel reminder of how much physical talent Armin lacked.
Not enough, never enough.
Eren repeatedly insisted that his lack of strength shouldn’t be something to be looked down upon. After all, Armin was deemed the smartest among the 104th cadets and was always praised for being their best soldier for formulating successful strategies. But the way Armin saw it, what was the good of creating those clever battle strategies, if his physical abilities were useless in applying them to real-life situations?
“Armin?” Eren asked, waving a hand in his friend’s face. “Are you still there?”
Armin snapped out of his train of thought. “Ah, sorry.”
“I was just talking about Sasha,” he repeated.
“Sasha will be fine,” said Armin, grinning. He rolled an apple into his hands and bit it between his teeth. The fruit’s freshness burst on his taste buds, and although military rations were notorious for being bland, this particular basket seemed to taste much better than what he was accustomed to. “This is delicious.”
“I wonder where Sasha got them,” Eren mused, also biting into his apple. “There’s no way apples these fresh came from Commander Shadis’s ration storage, everything in that place tastes the same. She must have sneaked out to buy them in Trost District.”
“Trost District,” repeated Armin. “That’s a whole horse ride away to the south of the Wall. It’s impossible. The trip would have taken her a whole afternoon, and we’ve been busy this whole week.”
“Exactly,” said Eren. “Who do you think covered up for her? I think it was Krista. She lets everyone walk all over her. Poor girl doesn’t know how to say no. It’s a little creepy how bubbly she is towards everyone, to be honest.”
Armin winced. “Don’t you think that’s a bit harsh to say about Krista?”
Eren raised a brow, curiosity piqued as to why Armin was suddenly so talkative. “Why do you say so?”
“Well, she’s nice,” said Armin. “And kind. I bet she would have been more than happy to give you those apples.”
“No, see, the issue is that if she didn’t want to give me the apples, she would have given them to me anyway just to be nice,” Eren said, looking like he just swallowed a lemon. “That’s what’s wrong with her. She’s got to stand up for herself and quit allowing everyone to treat her like she’s a doormat.”
“Nobody treats Krista like a doormat,” Armin said dismissively, phased by his rudeness. “Everybody adores Krista. They say she’s like an angel or a goddess. To everyone in our class, she’s like the salt of the earth.”
Eren’s lip curled in distaste. “Is that how you feel about her?”
Armin backtracked, taken aback by the stony expression that had overtaken his best friend. “I’m just saying she’s not a doormat, Eren.”
Eren paused, thinking. Then, he let out a short, amused laugh.
“You’re right,” he muttered. “It’s Sasha whom everyone treats like a doormat.”
“Eren!”
“Anyway, I don’t mean to be unkind to Sasha – she’s got excellent intuition,” said Eren. “And Krista is climbing up the Top Ten ranks, but only because Ymir is letting her.”
“I guess that’s wrong.”
“Do you like her?”
Silence. A flush was spreading across Eren’s neck. He waited, with bated breath, for the answer.
Then Armin said, “Ymir likes girls.”
Eren rolled his eyes in annoyance. “Now you’re just avoiding the question. I’m talking about Krista.”
“W-what?” Armin stuttered. “No! Besides, I think she has something going on with Ymir.”
“I should hope not,” said Eren, speaking in a tone of disgust although he couldn’t understand why. “I mean, that’s such a common thing to be. Every other boy in our class has a big fat crush on her. I don’t see what’s so special about being nice .”
“Maybe you just don’t like blonde hair and blue eyes?” Armin offered, heart sinking. “Not your type?”
Eren glanced at him before rolling an apple between his palms. “It’s not about her looks.”
“Well, I feel the same,” Armin stammered. “I don’t like Krista that way either.”
“So you do like someone!” exclaimed Eren, pointing at him. “Who do you like, then?”
Baby pink dusted Armin’s pale cheeks as he opened and closed his mouth like a fish out of water. Eren grinned at him; he had Armin right where he wanted him. Flustered and at a loss for words for something so ridiculously trivial. It was an excellent reminder that Armin, though indeed gifted with academic smarts, was just as much of a teenage boy as the rest of them were. But he still held his breath as he waited for an answer.
“I—let’s not talk about that, it’s not important, anyway,” said Armin, restless. “I want to know more about… these apples.”
Eren slumped slightly, disappointed but respecting his wishes to keep quiet.
“I’m still wondering how Sasha managed to get so many of them in a fresh state,” interrupted Armin. “Maybe she picked them from a nearby tree? She did say that she was good at hunting and cooking.”
“No way, if there was a tree like that around here, I guarantee that everyone in class would have made a fort around it.,” Eren said, head lazily lolling to the side in the languid heat. “I say we ask Mikasa to threaten to beat her up. She’ll answer to her.”
Armin was affronted that he was suggesting such a thing. “Asking Mikasa to do your dirty deeds? Eren, that’s wrong! Why don’t you just talk to her yourself?”
“Excuse me?” Eren sputtered, a blush of embarrassment creeping up his neck. “I’m not in the habit of threatening girls! And Sasha Braus—” his flush of humiliation got deeper, “—Sasha is much more scared of Mikasa than she is of me.”
Eren’s face was now inflamed with red. Armin knew that he was too prideful when it came to comparison with other people. He would rather pass away than admit to being overshadowed by Mikasa. He trusted Armin enough to understand and keep that secret. Armin preened with his pride and appreciation for having earned that trust. But still, talking about girls instilled an ache in him, like an apple slowly rotting to brown.
“What’s wrong with being envious of Mikasa?” Armin asked. “There’s no shame in admitting that she’s an excellent soldier in her own right.”
“There is a shame!” Eren growled. “When we were little, my mom called me out on it after I got beat up by those damn bullies. Mikasa had to swoop in and rescue me, and my mom yelled at me for depending on her to fight my battles all the time. She said that as a man, it’s my job to be the one protecting her.”
“But that’s what you were to me,” Armin said softly, and Eren clammed up.
A brief moment of silence passed when the gears turned in Eren’s head, his eyes widening at the realization. Armin casually finished the remainder of his apples, staring at the lake and pretending like his face wasn’t on fire. He focused his eyes on the sunset; it was late afternoon now, and the sun was bounding its daily path to the eastern horizon ahead. Armin wondered if he and Eren would ever get to reach that horizon someday.
“Well…” said Eren finally, “it’s not like those times were your fault. You never wanted to hurt them physically, you were too good to be engaging in something as superficial as that. You wanted to be fighting them verbally.”
“And look where that got me,” said Armin. “I’m rather lacking compared to you, Mikasa, and the others.”
“They were just stupid,” insisted Eren. “They don’t have half the smarts you do. You know you would have won in an argument against them.”
“It’s not me trying to feel sorry for myself,” Armin said matter-of-factly. “It’s just me stating a fact. You know I’m not as strong as you. It’s not enough to excel as a member of the military.”
Indignation flashed in Eren’s eyes. “That’s not true! You’re the smartest soldier among us all—”
“Eren,” he interrupted, causing him to fall silent again. “Sometimes we just don’t have what other people have. There’s nothing wrong with that, right?”
Eren sighed; Armin was a very agreeable person, but he could certainly be stubborn when it came to arguing about what he believed was right.
“No,” he answered reluctantly. “But I think that it’s still worth working hard to get what you want. Especially if you really want it.”
“I’m well aware of that, determination is a very important factor when it comes to success,” said Armin. “But I think that the first step to that is accepting that sometimes, we just don’t have it all.”
“God, please stop talking. My head starts to ache when I try to think in this heat,” Eren mumbled, half-joking and half-asleep. “We both have what the other person lacks. Now isn’t that great for us? And it’s like I told you – you’re the smartest among everyone in our class. Don’t think too much and don’t think too little about yourself.”
He tossed a bright red apple to the boy beside him, the little fruit leaping from his hands in a graceful arc that ended in the cup of Armin’s palms, soft and slightly warm. Armin laughed again at his antics and indulged himself with another bite. The juicy taste exploded on his tongue once again.
Eren took a bite, too. The fruit was perfectly ripe, the juice brimming. It burst into a smooth sweetness that filled his mouth, and the skin was down on his tongue. His mind began to wander. His mother used to bake him apple pies. There was a small twinge of regret in his heart for not having learned her recipe, although he couldn’t see how he would be able to bake apple pies within the Training Corps. At least it would live on in his memory.
“Do you miss it?” he asked without thinking. Armin turned towards him.
“Miss what?” he asked, confused.
Eren shrugged off-handedly. “I don’t know. Shiganshina District. Our old lives. Before Wall Maria fell.”
“I don’t know,” Armin admitted. “I miss my grandpa all the time. But everything else…”
He couldn’t help but compare the life he had in Shiganshina to the life he had now. He was now surrounded by true friends who respected him, encouraged him, and offered him their help despite his differences instead of neighborhood bullies arriving to swing their fists at his cowering face. He was a future soldier, a soon-to-be protector of humanity within the Walls. Life was stricter and harder, and the people of Wall Rose struggled every day. But at the same time, life went on.
“When it was just the two of us,” said Armin.
Eren smiled. "Yeah. Us and the ocean."
Armin shifted beside him, and his bare foot fell open against Eren’s. It was cool, chafed pink from the course ground underneath, a little calloused from the rough exercises that took up the long hours of their stolen youth. He hummed something, a familiar old tune that was often heard in jolly carols around Shiganshina District.
“The ocean…” Armin murmured, deep in thought as he always was whenever he theorized about those salty waters. “What does it look like… what would it feel like?”
Eren’s eyes shone as bright as polished emeralds. He loved it when Armin was like this. Talking about their shared childhood dream always enthralled him, and captured his heart and soul. It filled his being with a hope that lit the path of each night, promising a rewarding bright light at the end of the long tunnel. No matter how many times they talked about it, Eren and Armin never got bored.
“It’s got to be bigger than this lake!” said Eren, spreading his hands out as though to show the sheer size of the ocean. “I bet that when we look at it, it’ll be like looking at a flat field, but the entire ground is full of water. We probably can’t see the entire thing with our two eyes alone.”
“The book I owned said that it was full of salt, remember? I bet it smells all salty,” added Armin. “We could be rich selling endless gallons of pure salt. Imagine the faces of those merchants in Trost District if we showed up one day with wagons full of salt shakers!”
Eren let out a sound that was like a mixture of a scoff and a snort of laughter.
“Those men’ll be livid. It’ll surely wipe the smug grins they had on their faces off… after all those years of telling us that it doesn’t exist, they’ll be begging to work for us!”
They continued fantasizing about the possible scenarios, each one wilder than the last, until they were both laughing so hard that Eren had to wipe a few tears from his eyes and Armin was forced to hold his stomach in. When they recovered, they were beating the ground with their fists and gasping for breath.
“But – don’t you see?” asked Armin, still wheezing. “It could happen. We just need to prove it when we explore the outside world.”
Eren’s smile faltered a little. “The outside world. Yeah.”
The outside world, where chances of survival were slim to none. The outside world, where every venture would be taking one step closer to hell. The outside world, where the ravenous beasts that Eren so passionately hated roamed and dominated the earth that should have been for his own eyes to see. The outside world, where Armin might be slaughtered.
Was it worth Armin?
Eren glanced at that golden boy beside him, whose laugh was a sunny bellflower; the sun incarnate; he was the light that reflected on the ocean far away.
“We’ll go far past these Walls, to see the burning waters and fires, the mountains of snow and ice, the dunes of golden sand, lush forests with flowers in the rain… it’s all got to be out there. You haven’t forgotten about them, have you?”
“No,” said Eren, starting to feel guilty. “Of course, I haven’t.”
Of course not.
The answer to whether the outside world was worth Armin was simple. However beautiful those blue waves might be, the answer was a hard no.
Armin looked relieved. “That’s great news. I almost thought you had, with you wanting to kill the Titans and all.”
“Don’t be stupid,” said Eren, trying to keep grief away from his tone. “We’ll see everything someday. I just know it.”
The two boys fell back into silence again, sloping against the ground. The sun was still moving across the sky, and the air was warm around them. Armin closed his eyes again.
Then, the images came. First a touch, then the caress of a hand, then a comforting hug. The flicker of lips on his, the licks of fire against his neck, the curve of a hipbone, the bump of a strong bicep.
He opened his eyes, and the images disappeared. Instead, leaning over him was Eren.
“What are you thinking?” he asked. Armin flushed.
“It’s nothing,” he replied.
“It’s not nothing,” Eren said sharply. “You looked content. I just want to know what it might have been.”
Armin got a good look at his face, which was so close to his. Eren was free of the blotches and spots that had begun to afflict the other boys, his face was handsome and smooth as it had been since childhood, though the plumpness of a babe was wearing away with age. His bold features were drawn with a firm hand, every line and curve sure of its place on his head. The effect was most lethal when he was angry, for that was when his face was very sharp. But not today.
“What is it?” asked Armin.
“Nothing.”
Eren put a hand down to support himself. The muscles in his arms curved softly, appearing and disappearing with every single movement. His eyes were deep green on Armin’s.
“You’re lying to me.”
Armin’s heart began to race for reasons he could not fathom. He and Eren had always been close, holding hands and hugging and sharing beds, but those instances had been life or death, and much more different. Never before had they been so close, so intimate, and so intense. His mouth was dry, and he felt his Adam’s apple rise and fall with a swallow.
Eren observed him, cocking his head to the side. He was waiting to see how else Armin would react.
When he was satisfied with the comfortable expression on Armin’s wide eyes, he shifted. It was like leaping off the Wall armed with nothing but a single canister of gas and a measly sword. Eren leaned forward and their lips clumsily landed on each other. It tasted of apples, sweet and round and brand-new. Eren trembled, and it simply amazed Armin how new and old it felt.
The suddenness, the speed, and the strength shocked him; he flinched and startled away from Eren. For a brief moment, he saw his face framed in the sun’s setting light, his lips slightly pink, slightly wide with utter surprise. Eren was horrified. What was he thinking?
Armin began to sputter out an apology, scrambling to his feet and almost stepping backward. His face had failed to mask its emotions, he was flushed all over and a thin sheen of sweat began to appear. He was about to gather his clothes and run when Eren abruptly reached out and gripped his wrist.
It was a familiar touch. Armin froze at once, his heart pumping faster than it had ever gone before.
“Wait,” Eren begged. The side would be so chilly without his companion by his side.
Armin waited, a second, then two, then he nodded. Hesitantly.
Eren’s grip on his wrist relaxed and it fell to the side. He scratched the back of his head, embarrassed and unsure. Yet, he managed to speak.
“You’re the only one who understands,” whispered Eren. “Don’t go, please.”
You are the only one who understands me. He is the only one who saw him.
“Armin?” Eren asked worriedly. He was always so reckless, never quite thinking things through before executing his actions. He feared that today would be another lesson in thinking before doing.
Blue met green, twinkling and shining like the earth and the sky.
Armin breathed heavily, still gasping for air. He then nodded, knowing that Eren would understand what it meant. His face was warm, and the world felt remote, but he also found himself pleased, nevertheless.
It was a fine day, the first of the season.
“Stay a little longer.”