Chapter Text
The training hall buzzed with muted energy, the low murmur of cadets exchanging theories and complaints filling the stale air. Overhead, the flickering oil lamps cast a dim light on the room, their weak glow doing little to brighten the already drab atmosphere.
“Alright, listen up!” Shadis’s voice cut through the room like a blade, silencing every conversation and making odd cadets jump. He stepped to the chalkboard, jabbing a stubby finger at a crudely sketched map.
“Today’s exercise is a cross-country mission. Each squad will navigate their designated sector, locate the checkpoint, and retrieve the flag. Bring it back here intact before sundown, or don’t bother coming back at all. You’ll be graded on your navigation skills, strategy, and how well you function as a team.”
Jean Kirstein groaned under his breath, slumping slightly. His expression darkened further when Shadis began calling out the team assignments.
“Team Four: Kirstein, Springer, Blouse, and…” Shadis’s eyes flicked over his list before settling on (Y/N). “(L/N). You’re Sector C.”
Jean’s head snapped up, and the noise he made was halfway between a groan and a dry laugh. “Fantastic. Just what I needed.”
“Really? That’s your takeaway?” Connie quipped, grinning.
“Hey, it’s not that bad!” Sasha chimed in, practically bouncing on the balls of her feet. “I mean, look at us. We’ve got brains, skill, stamina. What could go wrong?”
Jean’s gaze swept over their group with the kind of scepticism usually reserved for overpriced bread. “You’re kidding, right? We’re a punchline waiting to happen.”
“I don’t hear you volunteering to be the hero,” Connie shot back, his grin widening.
“Because I know how to read the room,” Jean retorted, before glancing toward (Y/N), who had crossed the room with an unhurried stride.
Her gaze was locked on the map as though she was committing every line and contour to memory. At last, she turned to the group with an expression of pure nonchalance, “Are we done wasting daylight, or should I let you two finish arguing over who gets the last laugh?”
Jean opened his mouth, ready to retort with a snarky comment, but before he could spit it out, Shadis stomped over, bellowing for silence. “This isn’t some stroll in the woods for you! The terrain is complex and treacherous, and you can expect the unfriendliest of the local wildlife on your path too. If you can’t handle a basic mission like this, you won't make it 10 minutes outside the walls and the best use of your skills will be cleaning sheepshit for the rest of your lives. Understood?”
“Yes, sir!” the squad barked in unison. Shadis handed each team leader a map. “Your designated sectors are marked. Get moving.”
Jean sighed, swiping the map from Shadis’s hand when it was passed to him. “Fine. Let’s just get this over with.”
***
The forest loomed ahead, a sprawling maze of thick trees and tangled undergrowth. The group trudged along, Jean at the front, holding the map like a holy relic, squinting at it every few minutes as if expecting it to reveal a treasure marking. Sasha ambled beside him, humming a tune and scanning the nearest bushes for edibles, while Connie trailed slightly behind, muttering curses at his perpetually loose boot strap. (Y/N) walked a few paces ahead, eyes surveying the trail, memorising it.
“Alright, listen up. We’re sticking to the east trail, that’s the one that runs right across the forest. It’s the fastest route. We’ll cross the creek in about a mile — there’s a path along a ridge line for a few hundred meters, then the ridge will start to slope down in a steady decline. The checkpoint should be right at the bottom, marked with a flag. Easy.”
Connie chuckled, his voice light but sceptical. “Easy, huh? You sure that map isn’t upside down, Jean?”
(Y/N)’s eyes narrowed as she mentally went over the map Shadis showed them earlier. “Do you even know how to read topographic maps?” she asked, her voice smooth, but with a hint of challenge. “Or are you just making it up as you go?”
Jean shot her a sidelong glance, unruffled. “I’ve got it covered, (Y/N). Trust me, I’ve read the maps a dozen times.” He flashed the map at her, a bit too eager. “It’s all about knowing the landmarks. You’ll see.”
(Y/N) watched him for a moment, an eyebrow quirked. Jean was acting like a rooster who’d just discovered its reflection.
Who is he trying to impress here exactly?
“So, who’s gonna keep an eye out for bears? Those aren’t usually marked on maps,” Connie interrupted, the teasing lilt in his voice barely masking a thread of genuine concern.
Sasha raised an eyebrow. “If there were bears, you’d hear them coming before you saw them.”
“I’m not worried about bears,” (Y/N) said dryly. “I’m more concerned that Jean’s map will eventually lead us straight into a rock wall.”
Connie let out a laugh before tripping over an exposed root, his flailing arms nearly taking Sasha down with him. She grabbed his shoulder to steady him, giggling as she did.
“This team’s doomed,” Jean muttered under his breath.
***
The path narrowed and twisted as they ventured deeper into the forest, the air growing cooler with every step. The he trees overhead weaved a dense canopy that filtered out most of the light. Shafts of dim, green-tinted light broke through here and there, but it wasn’t enough to shake the gloom that had settled over the group. The ground beneath them had transformed into a mushy, uneven slurry, littered with damp leaves and roots, almost suspiciously sneaky.
They rounded a bend, skirting around a massive fallen oak sprawled across the path. Jean muttered something incomprehensible, the map crinkling audibly in his hands as he studied it with the intensity of someone who really didn’t want to admit they might be wrong.
“This doesn’t make sense,” he grumbled, more to himself than anyone else. “It says we should be going northeast, but—wait, that can’t be right.”
(Y/N) eyed their surroundings suspiciously, her sharp eyes flicking to the oak and then back to Jean. “You realize we’ve passed this tree before, right?”
Jean froze, his brow furrowing as he glanced between her and the map. “What? No, we haven’t. That’s ridiculous.”
Sasha nodded, “She’s right. I remember this spot— I smelled a porcini patch around here somewhere. Their smell is unmistakable.”
Jean looked baffled, his expression cycling between skepticism and reluctant acceptance. “You’re telling me you’re navigating by...fungus?”
“Well, it’s more reliable than your map,” Sasha quipped, hands on her hips.
“You know,” Connie said as he stumbled over yet another root, “for someone who acts like a know-it-all, Jean sure loves getting lost.”
“I’m not lost!” Jean snapped, his voice tinged with exasperation. He held up the map defensively, jabbing at it with his finger. “This—this was the most straightforward route! It’s supposed to lead us to the river. From there, the terrain dips gently, and we head straight to the flag marker.”
“Gently?” (Y/N) repeated, her tone dry. “Sure. Because the wilderness is known for its gentle, accommodating nature. What if the terrain decides to dip...I don’t know, vertically?”
Jean scowled but said nothing. She didn’t push the point aloud, though inwardly she couldn’t help but recall the cliffs she’d spotted on an earlier training map. They’d better hope they weren’t headed toward those—or else they’d need to swap their boots for climbing gear.
Connie sniffed the air, his nose wrinkling. “Is it just me, or does it feel...sticky out here?”
Sasha shot him a look. “You mean humid ? Yeah, no kidding. It’s a forest.”
“No, I mean worse than before. Like it’s about to rain.”
(Y/N) groaned quietly, running a hand through her damp hair. Rain would complicate things—like everything wasn’t already complicated enough.
Before she could reply, Sasha’s pace faltered, her usual bounce now a hesitant shuffle. Her boots scuffed against the muddy ground, kicking up damp earth. She wasn’t humming anymore. Her head was tilted slightly, like she was listening to something no one else could hear.
Brow furrowed, jaw tight, her gaze dropped to scan the forest floor with the intensity of a hunting hawk.
“Uh...guys?” Sasha said, her voice unusually small. “Remember how Shadis warned us about the...unwelcome wildlife out here?”
Jean turned, his eyebrows raising impatiently. “What about it?”
Sasha pointed at the ground, her finger trembling slightly. “Those are boar trails. Big ones. And fresh.”
Jean scoffed, rolling his eyes. “So what? Just because there are trails doesn’t mean the boars are actually here—”
A faint rustling interrupted him, followed by a low, guttural growl that seemed to vibrate through the very air. Every muscle in (Y/N)’s body tensed, her hand instinctively dropping to the hilt of her training blade.
“Uh...could be a deer,” Connie offered weakly.
“Deer don’t growl like that,” (Y/N) whispered, her voice sharp but calm.
The rustling grew louder, and before anyone could so much as blink, a massive blur of fur and tusks exploded out of the bushes. It was a wild boar, its eyes glinting with panicked fury as it charged in their direction.
“Move!” Sasha screamed, waving her arms to catch everyone’s attention. Connie let out a decidedly undignified yelp, throwing himself onto a low-hanging branch with the finesse of a panicked squirrel. He clung to it, his legs flailing as if the bark itself might suddenly give way.
(Y/N)’s instincts betrayed her into a momentary freeze as the sheer size of the beast barreling toward them registered.
“(Y/N)!”
Jean’s hand shot out, gripping her arm and yanking her back just as the boar surged forward. She stumbled back, her balance colliding against Jean’s side.
For a split second, everything moved in slow motion. The boar seemed to float past her, the ground trembled faintly beneath its hooves as it galloped on, disappearing into the underbrush.
(Y/N) was suddenly aware of Jean’s grip, solid and unmoving, still wrapped around her arm. His hand was steady, but she caught the faint tremor in her own as she turned her head toward him, their eyes meeting for the briefest moment. His jaw was tight, his brow furrowed with focus, but something in his expression softened as he realized she was staring.
“You good?” he asked, his voice low and oddly steady.
(Y/N) blinked, her mind snapping out of its limbo. “I’m fine,” she managed, her voice quiet but firm. Her gaze flicked pointedly to his hand. “Jean, you can let go now.”
He released her arm as if burned, his fingers leaving a ghost of warmth against her sleeve.
Another guttural snort echoed behind them and her head snapped around just in time to see the boar wheel back into view, its hooves pawing the ground with unmistakable intent.
Sasha stepped forward, training sword in hand, stance unwavering. Her eyes glimmered wickedly as if she was looking at a steaming pork roast.
Jean mirrored Sasha’s movements, shoulders square, unsheathing his blade in one smooth motion.
“Get behind me,” he said, his voice steady and commanding, so unlike the Jean she was used to.
Before (Y/N) could protest, the underbrush rustled again. Her ears caught the faint, high-pitched squeaks, and her eyes darted to the bushes where the boar had first charged. There, half-hidden in the shadows, were four small, quivering shapes, their tiny snouts twitching as they peered out at the commotion.
“Oh, for the love of—” The realization hit her like a slap.
“Jean, Sasha,” (Y/N) called, her voice cutting through the growing tension. “Don’t fight it! Run!”
“What?” Jean’s blade dipped slightly, his confusion palpable.
“It’s a mother, she’s protecting her litter” she snapped, urgency sharpening her tone. “Move, now!”
Sasha groaned, looking torn between her stomach and her common sense. Connie, who managed to land from his emotional support branch without breaking any limbs, grabbed her by the arm, pulling her along as the group broke into a run.
They tore through the underbrush in a chaotic scramble. Sasha muttered curses under her breath, flailing as another low-hanging branch slapped her squarely across the forehead. (Y/N) hissed as one particularly cruel branch snagged her hair, yanking her head back and probably snatching half her hair as a decoration.
Jean, somewhere ahead, had taken on the role of an unintentional battering ram, ploughing through the foliage like a man possessed. “Watch out for—” (Y/N) started, only to watch him run directly into a gnarled branch that smacked him in the chest. He let out a strangled noise, stumbling but refusing to slow down.
A particularly edgy root sent Connie sprawling face-first into the dirt before he scrambled back up with a yelp “Are we running from the boar or the trees?”
“Both, apparently,” (Y/N) snapped, her breath coming in short bursts. The forest seemed endless, although the boar’s snorts grew fainter behind them.
Jean burst through the last line of bushes and stumbled into open space. His foot splashed into cold water, and he realized with a start that they’d reached the river. The others followed, each gasping as they waded knee-deep into the current.
Sasha, hands on her knees, heart pounding, looked up with a scowl. “We could’ve had roast tonight,” she grumbled.
“Only an idiot,” (Y/N) shot back, still catching her breath, her tone defensive, “would kill a sow protecting her young. You’d be endangering the entire litter and the future population of boars in these woods.”
Scrambling onto the embankment, Jean raised an eyebrow at her but stayed silent, lost in his own thoughts. Her whim of mercy toward a wild animal caught him off guard, a sharp divergence from the cold, calculated character he had always attributed to her. It was... peculiar. Curious, even.
(Y/N), meanwhile, straightened, flicking a damp leaf off her shoulder as she surveyed the river. “Well,” she said with a pointed glance at Jean, a smirk tugging at her lips, “there was a direct path to the river after all. Too bad it was a bit… overgrown.”
Jean groaned, muttering something under his breath as Connie, dripping wet and breathless, broke into laughter behind him. Sasha’s grumbling grew louder, and for a moment, the tension dissolved into a strange, messy camaraderie.
As they caught their breath, (Y/N) glanced up at the sky, mentally noting a thick, heavy cloud blanket looming over them. The faint drizzle quickly became insistent, dampening the mood even further.
“Looks like Connie’s gut didn’t lie” she said, wiping a few stray droplets from her face. “The river’s shallow here, but it won’t stay that way if rain picks up. I wouldn’t cross it unless I was certain we’re on the right path.”
Jean rolled his eyes, pushing a dripping strand of hair out of his face. "We're fine. This is the fastest route to the checkpoint."
(Y/N)’s gaze turned to the river's steady flow swirling around her legs. “And what if we need to turn back?” she said evenly, but with a deliberate hint of tension, “If the rain picks up, returning by crossing the river might not be an option later.”
Jean shot her a sideways glance, irritation flashing in his eyes. “Maybe try having some faith in your fearless leader for once.”
"Reckless would fit better in that sentence," (Y/N) shot back, a ghost of a smirk flashed across her face.
Sasha and Connie exchanged uneasy glances as Jean and (Y/N) locked eyes, the tension between them palpable, a storm waiting to break.
“Guys…” Sasha began, her voice tentative “Let’s just keep moving. We’re wasting time.”