Chapter Text
Armin wearing his uniform after all this time was something of a novelty… Not like it had been that long since The Rumbling and, yet, after looking at him fixing his collar in a proper Commander's ensemble; it felt like centuries ago since they lost Commander Smith and Hange. It still looks big on him, but he was always too young and he always felt so… small for it. Three years after being relieved from duty, Armin's posture is as uncharacteristically bad as it was when he first took charge, slumped shoulders and head tilted downward toward his chest. For shame, they put a heavy burden over such a young man, Jean thought he looked like an Atlas.
Armin welcomed his presence with the faintest amused smirk ever.
“At ease” he ordered.
Jean blushed a little when he caught himself standing at attention like a soldier awaiting instructions.
“Yes, sir,” Jean scoffed, playing it for humour “Do they think it's appropriate?”
He didn't know whose idea this was, but it was –most definitely– not Armin's.
“It's a memorial” Armin shrugged, clearly unsure about the public's reception of his appearance.
“I didn't know”
“No one invited you”
“Ouch!” Jean put his open hand over his chest and sat on one of the love seats in their room.
They had decided to book together when they got invited to a different conference they got out of the day before. Up until that day, Jean thought Armin booked two days because he was interested in doing some tourism for once.
How fast he forgot that Armin has never known peace in his life; Jean doesn't think he trusts it anymore.
“As a special guest or a panellist,” Armin clarified with that well-manufactured placating smile of his “No one invited you as such, but the event is open to the public… Come witness as we get torn into pieces.”
“Awfully pessimistic, aren't we? Is it just you and Mikasa?” Jean guesses.
“With Annie and Reiner” Armin nods, carefully gelling his short blond hair to the back “I suppose we will ONLY be well regarded in the immediate event of the inauguration of the memorial. The press will have such a field trip afterwards. I can only imagine this whole thing was orchestrated as some kind of political strategy…”
Jean frowns.
Thirty-two seconds of silence went by; Armin should know, he counted.
“I am inviting you to dinner if you survive this, commander”
Armin sighs and, for a moment, Jean is not sure whether the uniform actually makes him look much older than he actually is, or rather… Exhausted is the only apt descriptor.
“You can invite everyone else if you want… But they are paying for their food” Jean offers in case Armin plans to reject his proposal in favour of Mikasa or Annie.
“Hmmm, I don't know. I am sure Mikasa would be delighted to know that you paid for her…”
“Don't start,” Jean rolls his eyes. “Let a poor guy's teen crush die from natural causes.”
“It was so young” Armin sniffled dramatically.
“We need to call Connie more often, you are a terrible comedy relief”
“I will make sure he knows you called him that.”
Four Eldian soldiers —coming from different factions once hell-bent on ending each other— in full gear commemorating the fallen. If no one tries to shoot them it's not out of esteem, but fatigue. There is more rotten meat on earth than any scavenger beast could possibly eat three years after the massacre. Arid soil and weak crops.
People who wanted nothing to do with Marley at all were mourning because of it. After the war, they cursed their name and Eldia in the same breath.
Was it unfair? Maybe.
Jean did not blame them at all.
Armin found him in the crowd for a moment and his lips curved slightly upwards.
Everyone was all broken smiles and half baked questions. No attacks, no mood for any political figure to lobby.
Just general exhaustion.
It was somehow good that Armin was wrong for once. Even if no one else seemed to think so.
“How long will it take to make this world the one Eren wanted us to have?” Mikasa grumbled as they went into their hotel's buffet… In name only due to its menu holding more similarities with the rations they gave to the cadets who came into the cafeteria late for supper when they were inside the walls, instead of being an actual buffet like those before The Rumbling came.
It was oddly nostalgic.
Everyone on the table shushed at the open mention of the name and Mikasa looked displeased but said nothing more.
“I wonder if they would rather forget anything happened at all…” Armin's expression goes dark “Humanity is spread thin, trying to get back on its feet and we are… In the way of their progress. Permanent reminders”
“No… How could anyone forget” It was the first thing Reiner had said the whole day.
“How nice of you to remember to do something else aside from looking pretty,” Annie remarked.
“I am doing what I can… If you can't see that it's because you hid for WAY too long” Reiner eyes landed on his plate like its contents were the most interesting things in the world.
Annie stared him down until he looked at her back. Armin straightened himself and bit his tongue, it was better not to interfere with whatever was going on between those two. Rehashing old grudges from the past was never a good sign.
“If you want to kill each other, do it outside,” Mikasa cut through the tension with ease. “We are gathering enough attention as it is.”
“I don't want to fight,” Annie admitted, thrumming her fork against the plate. “It's fine, I can pretend to know how to be a civil member of society… For now”
“Barely” Mikasa pointed out with a scoff and Annie rolled her eyes fondly.
“We could all use some lessons on that.” Reigen said pointing at Jean and Armin with a fork “Do you guys take students?”
To you—. For Eren—. To the man of the hour—. To the one I used to know—.
Armin couldn't address him like this. He was starting to understand why the members of the Garrison drank so much.
It's better to be doing something important, to feel like the fate of humanity is in your hands, rather than to wait for everything to explode eventually. Waiting for the first titan to enter your line of vision... That was torture.
Armin had his hands over the canon again. He took in the deceitful calm in the vast forest of Paradis knowing he could never set foot on it safely. Maybe, one day, the Colossal Titan would come in and burn him to a crisp.
Bertholdt avoided looking at his victims when they died. Armin wondered if, at least for a moment, one of them was glad their shift was over early.
Armin's head hit his desk with a loud thud.