It was late at night, almost half past two a.m. The whole world seemed to be covered by an even veil of darkness, with tiny crystals of stars sewn into the fabric. However, among the blank seas of endless black void there lied a shiny island of light and commotion. The recruit camp was even more lively than during the day. The reason? Tomorrow, like any other day, lives of this young once-to-be soldiers will be in a grave danger. But unlike any of those days, they were fully aware of the danger that awaits. Surely, their schooling was not designed explicitly to kill recruits, although when facing certain tasks it might have seemed so. The teachers were aware of overall heavy mood in the barracks and decided to give the young a day off. The "day" last till six a.m. in the morning, so no one wanted to miss an opportunity to throw an all-night-long party, despite supplies were low, there was no booze and the night was cold.
"Eren!" – Jean shouted at the boy standing near the barracks' entrance, talking to his blonde best friend, Armin.
"What's up?" – both boys got closer to Jean, who was shuffling a deck of cards.
"You mind a game of Canasta? The bet is tomorrow's breakfast. "
"I wonder." – Eren really put a thinking expression. – "Ain't there any game I could beat you in faster?"
"Hey, hey, mind your words or I'm gonna beat you in the face!"
"Is that even grammatically correct?"
"Jean, I have a better idea." – Armin cut Eren off with an unusually grim smile on his face. - "How about we play One Thousand Points?"
"I don't know that game, but it sounded a lot like some kind of torture…"
"Oh, believe me." Eren replied with a dead serious stare. "You don't want to play cards with Armin –"
Suddenly their conversation got interrupted by a furious chunk of yelling flesh that turned out to be Sasha.
"Water!" she shouted, waving her arms and wheezing like a harmed animal. A burst of laughter followed her from the right corner of the barracks. Boys looked at the direction she headed from. Eren's eyes met with one of the people sitting at the tables there, Berthold, who began to explain rapidly:
"She and Connie had bet who's gonna eat more of the chili stew without any rice or water, and it seems Connie won… right, Connie?" – Berthold pat the back of a boy that lied on the table next to him, lifeless. "Hey, Connie… you're okay? Connie! …He lost his consciousness! He lost his consciousness from too much spicy!" - Berthold seemed more amazed than anything. Nevertheless, his assumption agitated another person at the table – Reiner. He stood up rapidly like his seat turned into molten lava and checked up on Connie.
"Berthold, come on, we need to take him to the infirmary."
"O-okay." – some sort of short shudder took over his body for a second, like a cold reminder. Berthold got back to his usual, quite stern and minimalistic self. Reiner took Connie on his back and Berthold escorted them into the darkness that surrounded the camp.
They left Connie in the hands of incredibly edgy medical officer – no wonder, they had to wake her up from bits of the shallow and turbulent sleep she got thanks to all the noise from the outside. Reiner and Berthold stood for a while at the entrance to the infirmary, not rushing back. Standing here and listening to the voices from a distance gave them a chilling experience of being excluded. Everything went nervous and vibrant like carelessly touched guitar string. It wasn't a bad feeling. A little sad, maybe.
"I need to go to sleep." – Reiner yawned. "I'm barely standin'."
"Yeah, I guess I'm going to sleep too." – nodded Berthold.
Sedately, both of them went in the direction of the big seeping tents on the other side of the barracks. They took the longer road, consequently omitting the ring of light from the central place. Reiner kept on looking towards the light.
"Peeps will be so wasted in the morning." – he muttered to himself.
"Actually you seem to be concerned, are you?"
"I am. This is my squad, of course I'd like for all of us to get as good as we can, and it's impossible if you're not rested."
"Reiner, you know it's futile anyway."
Men went silent. Reiner got an empty expression on his face, like he was trying to suppress something. Out of all trainees, he was the only one that didn't put his guard down the whole evening, to the point of being jumpy and aggressive. It seemed he was thinking deeply about something. A thought that was messing with his mind, this "being a soldier" thing. It was unusual for Berthold to see his friend so weak. He got a bit suspicious about Reiner's behavior, but he let it slip instantly, like everything else. Berthold was bleak. Had always been. When he was young, he realized that being like that, being mediocre, having short memory, giving up and forgetting, was the best and easiest path of life. Of course he got scared, angry or ecstatic sometimes, but he allowed himself to push those feelings away. And Reiner was more like a rock, hard, solid and enigmatic. Probably the reason they are so close is that they both don't need any conversations to feel good with one another – actually talking too much would be unpleasant nuance. That's why he didn't ask directly what's going on. Besides, you don't ask rock why it's eroding. It's just how it is. Nevertheless, he bumped Reiner's arm out of frustration.
"What?"
"Stop spacing out."
"Sorry."
Finally they reached the tent. It was one of the big, military ones, with two rows of beds and a wooden floor. The place was empty. Reiner sat on his bed, still looking flustered. His friend sighed heavily and crouched next to him. This time there were no means to avoid confrontation - Berthold felt that either he needs to console Reiner or punch him in the face.
"Listen up. Know who you are. You're not a soldier. You're a warrior. Hear me? Not a soldier. We are who we are and we did things that cannot be outdone. You need to think straight, because one day you might need to kill your squad without hesitation. And you will crush every last one of them."
"Yeah, I know!" – replied Reiner, but he didn't even want to look Berthold in the eye.
"Good. Don't make me knock some sense into you." – Bert's said in a weak tone of voice, making his threat unconvincing. When he thought about it, he'd rather not start a fight with bulky Reiner. Actually he was kind of ashamed of the harsh words he had just said. He kept on looking Reiner in the face, but his friend just stared at the opposite wall. The tension between them started to grow – the one of a kind tension between two determined sociopathic lunatics. Sure, they had a reason for their actions, made sick and twisted by the means they have taken to achieve their goal. Being fully aware of that was like a disease – spreading uncontrollably and making the mind and soul disturbed. They both suppressed those feelings, but how long can they play hide–and-seek in the broad daylight?
The silence last for a good ten minutes, when suddenly Reiner stood up. Berthold followed, having nothing other in his mind but to just block Reiner from leaving.
"Th-" – Berthold wanted to make another useless rant, when he got brutally interrupted. At first he really thought he got punched, but then realized it was something entirely different.
"What?!" – He pushed Reiner back, although the gap between them remained just a single step. Their gazes finally met. Destruction. There was nothing more or nothing less in both pairs of eyes. Fearsome, passionate, pure nihilism. Yes, Berthold was taken by a surprise, he got scared of that pathetic, hard kiss but it doesn't matter. Nothing ever matters. He can go with the flow, like always. So he put his arms around Reiner's neck and returned the favor.
It looked more like a violent struggle than anything else. There was nothing sweeter than the pain caused by tight hugs, lips throbbing form pressing too hard. All they wanted was to take, not give, so they fought fearlessly for even the tiniest glimpse of each other's warmth. Blood rushed in their veins, taking all the bad thoughts with its flow. After a while they found themselves lying on Reiner's bed, trying to catch some breath. They took the opposite sides of the bed like touching each other suddenly became poisonous.
"We were letting off some steam, right." – it wasn't a question, just Berthold's wishful assumption. "Don't get me wrong, but I'm not into, you know. That."
"Me neither. It was just a whim, sorry."
"No need to apologize." – Berthold stood up and picked up his jacket that somehow ended up on the wooden floor. – "Good night, Reiner."
NOTES: Engish is not my native, so if you see any drastic mistakes, pm me.
The fic was partially inspired by the film "Elephant", if you didn't see it, do so!