May be triggering; contains depictions of self-harm. Mild as of now, but no promises for later chapters.


Annie doesn't really care when he wakes up. When a boy, someone she has grown rather familiar with over the years, catches her in the small hours of the night. His blanket fumbles as he sits up, watching through the dimness of the room, with the only sound being that of a ticking clock. Eren watches how her silhouette remains stiff, maybe recoiling once or twice, but otherwise absolutely still. He swears that he wouldn't have seen it, if his sleeping mat wasn't just one Reiner away from hers. He swears that this had to be why he managed to stop her punch today. Of all things, though, he swears that he doesn't want to believe what he's seeing—

But Annie returns the stare, her cold blue eyes locked into his, and Eren knows there's no denying it.

Somehow, time seems to zoom forward, and Eren finds himself in the mess hall with everyone else. Horse-face is going on about something, something that had to do with the 5-day course the trainees had to complete, but Eren isn't sure what. His ears seem to malfunction. His eyes seem programmed to glance at a particular blonde in a corner of the hall. Only during the interval period when everyone goes silent, Eren realizes that someone has asked him a question, and his mouth hangs because he doesn't have an answer.

It's when Eren's about to apologize, ask about that question he doesn't care about, that Annie puts her cup down and stands up. Annie walks towards the door.

A compulsive urge, similar to the one Eren felt those many days ago—to jump up, to lunge toward her—resurfaces. This time, Eren heeds it, because there's no risk of his idiocy angering Annie—at least not with an audience she would definitely be resentful of. He hears someone's footsteps, so he mumbles that he's going to the restroom (which is on the other end of the hall), and breaks into a run once the door slams behind him.

The blonde continues to go at her own pace, as if she doesn't hear him, even though he's very sure that she does. He yells her name, but she doesn't turn around. As if she doesn't acknowledge his presence.

So he kicks it up a notch, dashes until he's behind her, and instinctively grabs her arm. As if she must acknowledge him.

But then Annie winces, and he remembers her tossing that reddish brown cloth off a cliff.

Crap.

Eren's arm flies back. In a blink of the second, the composure on Annie's face is back.

"You need something?"

Eren freezes as he deliberates her question.

No, he doesn't need anything. Heck, why is he even here again?

At that moment, everything feels like a dream, a distant memory no less foggy than the night of the course. Eren wants to make sure, so he looks for those dark, pained eyes, and he sees that it has changed. It has become lighter, warmer, and he wants to believe that it is a distant memory. That he can just shake it off, thank her for bearing with him and Reiner during the course, and go back to the laughing happy mess hall.

A flush of wind makes Annie's hair gravitate. When it subsides, Eren gives her an awkward smile.

"Sorry, it's nothing. Just wanted to thank you for practising with me."

He sees her lips quiver. Annie's lips never quiver.

"What happened? Why did you cut your arm? Who made you do it? I don't understand—why would you do that? Did someone force you? Is someone blackmailing you? That would be…really scary…"

Annie gazes at him. She's aware that Eren isn't a person who gets scared easily—she'd seen it before, the way he risks falling to death just to hit a target, the way he stands up to Jean and even graduate soldiers who spoke of enjoying military life, and the way he challenges her over and over again, despite her ruthless attitude. But now he looks like he's about to piss his pants. His voice is quiet, so much unlike the brazen, loud remarks he would always make. Eren's complexion is turning paler with every passing second, which can only mean that his mind is flying off into uncharted territories. Despite how Annie just wants to get away from him, she knows that he doesn't deserve to be tortured like this.

"No one's blackmailing me," idiot. "I'm fine. Goodnight."

Annie looks down, her bangs covering her eyes. She wants to be alone, and she wants to be alone right now. Eren gently grabs her shoulder.

"Annie, please tell me something. We're friends, right? After all those times you kicked my ass, don't tell me that I'm supposed to ignore this."

"There's nothing to ignore," Annie shoves his hand off. She starts to regret not having some self-restraint that night. "I'm tired. I want to sleep. Goodnight."

"This isn't fair!" He almost yells, and he tries to hold her back again but this time Annie spins around, parries his hand and tucks an arm under his axilla and over his back. It's almost inherent for her to slam his face against the floor, but for whatever reason she's not doing so today. Instead she keeps him hanging, her elbow pressing on his spine, and she's about to push him back when Eren doubles over and sends her flying. Annie expects the hard, pebbled ground to greet her, but it doesn't.

She feels his arm across her back.

"You're getting good."

Eren gazes at her again. Her dead eyes, from the dim light of the torch, unveils. He'd been so close to being tricked.

"No. Something's just really wrong with you."

Annie hears the worried tone in his voice. She thinks back, and remembers her father sobbing, his nails digging into her back, with the same worried tone when he told her that he was sorry. Annie feels Eren's knuckles against her shoulder blades. Feeling a sting in her eye, she pushes him away hastily.

Annie gets up, but Eren clutches her sleeves with both hands. He looks like a wounded puppy.

"Can I look?"

Annie sighs. She's not interested in dealing with anyone—she never has been, but today's just the wrong day to pick on her. "Only if you leave me alone."

Eren nods, though his expression is reluctant and heated. She brushes his hand off, pulls her sleeve up just slightly to reveal a crescent wound around her forearm.

The cut is raw, dry, still flushed, and as far as he can tell—very, very deep. The wound creates a discreet bump on her skin, and he wonders how she can even half-fight with it wedged in her flesh.

Eren gasps at the sight of it. Annie's sure that he's seen worse injuries on himself after all those scrapes with her. But she says nothing, hoping that he will honour his word and let her leave.

"It's swollen, Annie. Infected."

She shoots him a glare. "Do I look like I care?"

"You have to. Else it'll get worse."

Eren's biting back his questions. He's biting back his emotions for his sparring partner, someone he had always thought was troubled, but to this extent he hadn't fathomed. At this point, he just wants her to know that he cares. She doesn't get the message.

"You said you'd leave me alone."

"I will. But—"

"I thought you were an honourable soldier," Annie tries to gnaw at his pride. "Honourable soldiers don't tell lies."

"But you need to get this cleaned up. It's happened to me a lot of times before—Armin knows how to tend it."

She's heard Eren address a short blonde kid by that name.

"You expect me to let a short blonde kid touch me?"

"No. But I learnt from him and I can help."

"You're pushing things, Eren. We're only training together. No strings attached, and I don't know where you get the idea that we're friends."

"We are friends. And I don't want to see you in pain."

Pain? Annie grits her teeth. What does he know about pain? What does he know about all those years of suffering she had been through? What does he know about her having to leave her home, leave the only person who cared for her for this mission? Nothing. He knows nothing about pain, and yet he acts like a conceited brat. A surge of anger floods Annie, and she draws in a sharp breath to keep form exploding.

Bands of people begin to exit the mess hall. They fill the once silent air with chatters. They catch attention, attention that Eren doesn't care about, but he eventually has to when Bertolt Hoover and Reiner comes rushing towards them. Bertolt extends his hand to Annie—an offer in which she doesn't take. She gets up on her own.

"What happened, Annie?"

"Eren kicked me."

"What—?!" Eren shouts, his eyebrows furrowing from her accusation. "I didn't—"

"You kicked Annie down?" Reiner asks, being the only person somewhat amused about the situation. "That's a first. Did you cheat?"

"No! I didn't kick anyone—"

"He's lying. I was just heading back when he shot me off the ground."

Bertolt walks towards Eren, who doesn't back off.

"You know I wouldn't challenge anyone to an unfair match, Bertolt. Annie's arm, she—" Eren trails off. He realizes that no matter how much he wants to clear the misunderstanding, he can't go telling everyone about her wound—at least not until he understood why she did it. Even someone as dense as Eren knew that much.

"What arm?"

So even Bertolt, one of the trio, doesn't know about it.

"Nothing," Eren sighs. "Anyway, I really didn't do anything."

Betolt's about to protest again, but the heavily-built man stops him. "Bertolt, you should trust him more by now. Eren isn't the type who does that sort of thing. Hey Annie—"

When the three of them turn around, they realize that the blonde has disappeared. Eren, finally catching on to her trick, can only stand there, uttering a string of explicit words towards his own senselessness. He should've known that this is what Annie wanted to happen and caught on sooner. But by then it's too late to change things, and something tells him that even if he manages to find her dorm, Annie's door would be locked tight that night.