An old one - wrote for an old friend. Back from when I used to write many, many SnK one shots and fics. Don't beat me - I'm not a native speaker, and will appreciate any notes and feedback!

Inhale.

Exhale.

The basis of human existence, breathing.

Inhale.

If it was so easy, and natural, why wasn't he able to execute it?!

Exhale.

He coughed again. This time heavily, he had a hunch that few drops of blood landed on a dusty ground before him.

Breathe.

"Jean!"

High pitched shout came to his ears. When he recognized the owner of this voice, fell relived on a hay covering the stable floor. He felt like shit - every cough drained him from his strength and dried his lungs, which now burned like a fire.

Armin ran up to him.

"Jean! How do you feel?"

The taller boy stood up on soft knees.

"I'm fine." He said. "It's nothing more than the last time."

The younger looked at him with concern.

"Maybe you should go see the doctor? He's not far away, in a next town.."

"Armin, it's fine, I swear! There's no need!"

Jean shook his head and grabbed a harness handing on the door.

"Come on. Master Ackerman will kill us if we won't have the work done."

Cold morning air cleansed his burned lungs. Fog floated over the frozen ground, covering silhouettes of horses cutting through. Jean could see his breath, and hell, he was happy about it. It wasn't the first time he got an attack like that, but first someone actually came for him.

He looked at Armin.

The boy seemed worried, but did not look back at Jean, he was rather keeping horses in sight.

The taller cowboy opened his mouth as he was about to say something, but suddenly a loud, drawn-out whistle interrupted him.

"Had fun talking to your friends, horsey?!"

Jean sweared to God above, there was no voice in the whole world that would make him more irritated than this particular one.

"Shut your ass, Jeager."

The two walked to the fence, where Eren and Mikasa were waiting for them - both had already saddled up their horses, now just stood there, arms propped on the creaky wood.

Eren was chewing on a blade of grass.

"The new kid is gonna be here today." He said to Jean. "Somebody must go and get him from The White Rock."

Mikasa glanced at Armin, who kept himself slightly behind his taller friend.

"Maybe you, Armin? You'll make a good first impression."

The smaller one shook his head.

"I-I think I won't be able to fight off any possible bandits we can encounter. How about you, Eren?"

"Why is it always me?" The boy jumped and sat on the fence. "If it was tomorrow, then I'd be glad to go, but master Ackerman needs me today."

Mikasa nodded and pointed at Jean.

"So it's you."

"Hey!"

Armin stood before Jean, what surprised not only him, but the two too.

"Jean can't go! He's-"

A hand in his mouth successfully stopped him from emitting any further words.

"I'm fine. And if there's no other option, I'll go."

Jean adjusted his hat, walking to the course, and whistled. A young mare came to him.

"Way to go, Clyde."

Eren muffled his laughter.

"It's a she, don't you know?"

"Shut up. How could I guess it then?"

He jumped on the horse with quite an effort - his hands still shivered, and his lungs still burned. He swallowed, and was also pretty sure he'd tasted the copper scent of blood.

Eren patted Armin on the shoulder, bragging his attention away from Jean.

"Come on." He said cheerfully, like depressive weather hadn't any affect on him. "We gotta drive the cattle onto the pasture, or else master will have us sliced up into tiny pieces and served with chicken soup."

He was right - their supervisor had very specific ways of dealing with insubordination.

"Hey!" Jean called out to the leaving three, as he was about to ride to the path. "What's his name?"

Eren turned around on his heel.

"I don't know! Mark? Marcus...?"

"Marco." Mikasa cut, taking the reins of her mare. "Marco Bodt."

After a longer while Jean rode his mount on a dusty road leading to White Rock. He somehow enjoyed this strange feeling of loneliness, like he was fed up with other people and their annoying voices.

"Marco." He tasted the name on his blood covered tongue. "Got it."

Few horse's steps further, and his silhouette completely disappeared in the thick fog.