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The sun is starting to dip, and they're mucking out the stables. The sky will be colored like nectarines soon, and Armin intends to finish his share of the work before then, even as he feels blisters mount the peaks of his palms. The woody grain of rakes and brooms has never treated him kindly, and his skin refuses to adapt. He laments, sometimes, his body's insistence on staying as soft as it does. He should be grainy, too, he thinks. He should be like Jean and Eren and Connie, with their chapped elbows and weathered soles.
Annie is barely yards away. She's working twice as fast as he is; she'll finish plenty before the proper sunset. And she does, of course. She lets her rake clack against the rack, and Armin bites his lip, trying to double his speed to match her. It doesn't work very well. But - and he knows this from experience - it's humiliating to be left alone by your chores partner because you haven't finished and they don't feel like wasting their time. It's not like Armin can blame them at all, but it makes his face burn so badly. On the rare occassions they're paired up with him, neither Eren nor Mikasa leave, of course, but that just brings whispers that Armin's clingy. A baby. There's really not a chance of winning here, is there? He's starting to despair, a little, wondering if he might as well just take a break since he's got nobody to impress and no way to do it anyhow. Immediately he feels guilty for that thought. Even if he isn't impressive, he thinks firmly - and shoves his rake forward just as much so - he needs to be doing his best. He will do his best. So he puts his right foot forward and tries again.
It occurs to him, finally, that he hasn't heard Annie's footsteps. Maybe he's just been incredibly involved, but - he looks up, blinking so that his beading sweat skirts his eyelashes, and sees her there leaned against the side of a stall. Her chin is tucked low and her arms are crossed. Her eyes are closed, too. Armin blanches. Did she fall asleep there like that?
Maybe he's gaping. Either way, it makes her speak up. "Are you finished?" she asks him, motionless in every other way, except for how a small lick of wind bats her fringe to the side.
"Oh," Armin says, helplessly startled by this, and rattles his rake nervously. "N- No. Um, I should be soon."
"Go ahead, then."
"Right."
So, why is she staying? On the other side of the yard, the mess hall's woody frame vibrates with the raucous sounds of at-ease trainees, and Armin can hear other soldiers-in-training run past at Kieth's behest, fallen into step together: hup-hup-hup-hup-hup. "Hey, Annie?" he asks on a huff, glad at least that he's not wheezing. That'd probably be equally humiliating as her packing up to leave, and might actually make her do so. Then his sweat-damp cheeks redden a little. Maybe she's staying because it's quiet here and she doesn't want to have to socialize.
But she says back, "Hmm." Maybe that's a good enough cue for Armin to keep going.
"Just, you seem like you've done this a lot... Back home, did you have a horse?"
"I didn't." She's very frank, and she's got a quiet voice, so Armin feels cowed for a moment, until she says, "It's just easy work."
"Haha," Armin says. Even to his own ears, just that laugh sounds crushingly self-deprecating. She's right, though. "Probably. I'm really not cut out for this sort of thing, am I?"
She might shrug her shoulders a little. "Not really," she says.
This spurs him on. Annie isn't being mean, just blunt, and what she says is true. He has to be harder on himself, he thinks. If he's going to follow Eren and they're going to go outside, he has to be harder. "Still, you're handy with a rake. I never had to use one before this, but you at least seem practiced."
"My father made ours," Annie says. Her words sound a bit thin, like there's a film over them.
"Really? Was he good with wood, then? You know, my grandfather whittled." Armin pauses in his work to make gestures with his hands, even though she can't see them, but she opens her eyes a little for the first time, raising an eyebrow at him - slacker - and he scrambles to keep going.
"He was all right," comes her answer as she closes her eyes again.
They stay quiet for a little while after that, and it's not unpleasant. Armin's puffing away and raking away, and he's surprised to find that he's made a lot of progress while he'd been talking with Annie. There's something stirring about her, compact and steely as she is. It makes a person want to do well.
"Hey, Annie?" he says once more.
"Hmm."
"Isn't it weird? I mean, to think that soon... That not very long after this, we're all going to be split up." He doesn't look over at her, just at his task. "You know, to the Scouting Legion - the Garrison - ...the Military Police." That last one lingers in his mouth and in the air, stuck between his teeth and Annie's ears. She doesn't go tense, but the atmosphere does, a little.
Annie says, "We all knew it would happen," and Armin understands why she doesn't get out much. It must be easier that way for some people.
"Well, maybe - " And Annie already thinks he's stupid, in his own way, if not well-intentioned. (But it might be that those intents are what make him seem stupid in the first place.) "Maybe sometime... If we do well, the Scouting Legion might come in to report at Wall Sina. Maybe we'll get to check in with you, Annie. Visit."
She doesn't scoff at him, but he feels like she might as well. Still, it sounds nice, doesn't it? He expects that she'll say something derisive, but he likes to entertain the idea, because it'll mean a success for the Scouting Legion, too. It'll mean that things will go well. "That wouldn't be for a while," Annie says, blunt again, not unkindly. "I'd be hard to find. It could be years." Ridiculous, to go to all that trouble. Ridiculous, to think about it even a little. "You might not recognize me."
"No way," Armin sighs good-naturedly, and finally drops his rake, finished, victorious. The sky is streaked with the warm color palette like he knew it would be. He doubles over, one hand flat against the wall of the stall to support himself and the other balled up on a bent knee, trying to catch his breath. But he lifts up his head to smile. "I'd know you anywhere, Annie."