Author's Note: I do not and never will own SNK.
Written for the One Prompt Many Fandoms Competition.
He's never moved so fast-
It's funny. Eren would have always said that he was in shape before the Wall fell (not that Mikasa would have agreed).
He didn't know what fitness meant until the Titans came.
Breath sawing in and out of his lungs, legs bursting with internal fire-
He's too young to join anything. They are not yet monstrous enough to send children to their death. He tries to sneak out anyway and is brought back by a soldier on horseback, dangling him across the pommel like a sack of potatoes. He hits the ground with a thud, and bruises bloom across his back. Nobody says anything. They don't need to.
Adrenaline sparks through his blood as he dodges around a tree, moving so fast it's a blur-
Mikasa tells him to be patient. Armin tells him the same. He chafes. They murdered his mother. He watched one do it. He watched while he did nothing, could do nothing, Hans clamping him to his shoulder with an iron grip. Guilt burns in his throat when he thinks of the despair in her eyes. She didn't want him to go.
Blades glint in the misty sunlight, bright and silver sharp, as he aims for the nape-
He's not a quitter. He will never be a quitter because to quit means to fail, and Eren refuses. He practices with the three dimensional maneuver gear until exhaustion forces him to fall over, muscles trembling and weak. He doesn't care. He will become a soldier, no matter the cost.
Blood spurts, brilliant red, and he grins-
Success.