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Zeke remembered the first time it had happened during training. On the walk home that day, there had been a corpse lying in between the alleys of the internment zone and the road to his parents’ apartment. Whoever they were seemed to have died very recently, but the weather had been hot, and Zeke was sure they’d be dealt with soon due to the imminent stench. It wasn’t an uncommon sight, it might have been a suicide or perhaps someone who’d taken a beating for the last time, but regardless, Zeke kept moving toward home.
That night, he was quiet as his parents ate. He had spent so much time rehearsing everything in his room – he must’ve conjured a hundred different images in his mind of how his folks might react to him telling them, mulling over the exact words very carefully – before being called to dinner. And yet, now that he was sitting opposite to his parents, the room felt like it was spinning in place. There were days where Magath had struck him hard enough to make him go cross-eyed for hours, and yet, in the moment it hardly compared to the dread he was feeling. He was hot, almost feverishly so, and he hadn’t been able to bring himself to have even a bite of dinner. He was quite sure his father had made a comment about needing to take care of his body to become strong, something like that, but Zeke hadn’t fully heard it. It had gotten to a point where Zeke was close to backing out until Grisha laid out an opening for him. The decisive moment.
“So, how was your training today?”
Zeke had swallowed thickly. His eyes darted around the dining room a few times before settling back onto his father’s.
“It was tough, as usual.” He replied, a nervous laugh settling through his small chest. His father seemed like he was going to say something again, only to be stopped by him. Zeke knew that if he didn’t keep going, he was going to lose his nerve.
“And… I had a thought today when I was with one of the generals. Like… is this even necessary for my training? Isn’t this… weird? Why do we have to do all this with my body if I’m not even a Titan yet?”
Zeke held his breath. In the end, he hadn’t been able to say it outright, instead using vague language for what had happened. He hadn’t been able to say it, but inside, he was still hoping… praying that they would pick up on his meaning, or would be able to miraculously read his mind.
A general touched me. A general made me feel weird and disgusting and-
He glanced over each of their expressions. First, to Dina, who seemed to be thinking of something but waiting to hear her husband speak first.
His body had trembled as he awaited any kind of response or acknowledgment to what he’d said. He wasn’t sure how much time had actually passed when his father’s voice finally cut through the silence.
“That’s to be expected. They’re going to subject you to all sorts of experiments when you inherit a Titan, so they’re preparing you for it.”
He swallowed again.
Zeke didn’t speak another word throughout dinner. After finishing up, he made his way toward his room, but jolted suddenly when he felt a hand on his shoulder. It was his father’s. His father, who had never struck him, and certainly would never touch him like that, and the thought overwhelmed him with a sense of guilt over his reaction.
“Zeke. I know it’s a very heavy burden for you to bear, but… You can’t lose heart yet. You’re Eldia’s last hope.”
He had made a vague sound of acknowledgment before retiring to his room. Zeke cried all night after that. Adults were supposed to be smarter and wiser, to be able to pick up on the smaller details and read between the lines… did his parents really not notice a thing, or were they merely pretending not to see? If he had been able to say it all exactly right, would things have been any different?
The next morning, he was exhausted when he went to training. The general who’d put his hands on him wasn’t in sight yet, but he wouldn’t let his guard down. He spent the early hours going through the motions, being yelled at by Magath for falling behind the other children. It was grueling as usual, but keeping his body busy at least meant he would be safe for a time. It was that thought that kept him running despite his lack of sleep.
When the first round of training came to a close, he felt someone pat him from behind and went straight as a pin, only to relax after when he heard Mr. Ksaver’s voice. The moment he turned around and they met eyes, Zeke wasn’t able to hold in his feelings anymore, releasing into a flood of tears and hugging his chest.
“Zeke, what’s wrong? Can you tell me what happened?”
And he did. He’d told Ksaver that one of the generals had touched him while he cried into his chest, and Ksaver and held him and apologized. Apologized because there was nothing that could be done about the general – not by a cowardly man such as himself – because the most he could do for Zeke at the time was let him weep in his arms until he got a pounding headache that he would have to walk all the way home with.
"I’m sorry, Zeke, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry."
When Zeke went home that day, the body was still there. Just as he’d thought, it had already begun decaying due to the summer temperatures, and maggots had nestled their way into its flesh and begun eating away to the bone in a few areas. He had been able to smell it from a few blocks away, so why had no one come to dispose of it at this point? He lingered on it for a few moments more before heading home once again.
His mother had been the first to greet him this time. Zeke stilled because, like the night before, she still looked as though she wanted to say something to him. She reached out just an inch, like she’d wanted to touch his face, before withdrawing her hand back quickly. For just a moment, he saw the same face on her that Mr. Ksaver had been wearing that day. She spoke quietly.
"Zeke, I’m really sorry. I’m so, so sorry. Please forgive me."
After that, she’d left him alone in the living room. Whatever it was she’d truly wanted to tell Zeke, it never came up again.
About a year later, he had turned his parents in to Marleyan authorities. As far as training was concerned, his prospects had significantly improved and Magath had even told him that at this rate, he’d be seriously considered for one of their Titans. On his first birthday with his parents gone, he’d celebrated it with Mr. Ksaver, who taught him how to smoke on the condition that Zeke could promise he’d never do it again after that. Zeke had considered it to be one of the happiest days of his life, and when it came to days that he thought were worth remembering, he was sure he wouldn't be able to count up to even five fingers on his hand. On that same day, he’d sprinted far ahead a handful of his fellow trainees for the first time since he started. It was, by all means, a miracle to his commanding officers, but for Zeke, it had been easy because he’d felt like he was floating on air the entire time.
There was still several years' time ahead before Zeke would be told he was to inherit the Beast. Before Mr. Ksaver would leave him and his body would be surrendered in its entirety to Marley and he would be remolded to swallow down his shame. If he and Mr. Ksaver could just have many more days like that while time remained, Zeke swore he would endure anything.
That evening, he’d accidentally walked the old route home instead of the way to his grandparents’ place. Stepping through the alleyway, Zeke felt a crunch underneath a patch of overgrown weeds and with his shoe, he pushed them apart to reveal a human bone. It must have been a leftover from the corpse he watched rot last year. He knelt down to get a closer look at it, recalling the sight of those maggots that had picked some of the skin completely clean from the nameless Eldian in their hunger. He left the bone in its resting place and turned around to go the proper route home this time.