CRYSTALLIZED

Betrayal never really sat well with him. Thinking about it makes him want to vomit. But, not thinking about it makes it even worse. Questions whirled through his mind and each question seemed to give birth to a myriad of others each time. There were only questions. Never answers. Never solutions. Never clarity.

He knew that he wasn't made to be a soldier. He knew of his weakness, his limitations, his lack of physical strength and stamina, and his inability to fight like the others. He has always known of it, always been familiar with it. There are times when he finds it a miracle that he is still breathing after all the things that have happened – from the destruction of Wall Maria five years ago to this moment…

This moment… When he sits comfortably on a chair behind a desk, watching intently the crystallized form of a female who he seemed to be well acquainted with.

Annie Leonhart. One of the top ten graduates of the 104th squad. A new recruit and an asset for the Military Police. An exceptional soldier. An astounding lady.

And a friend and comrade, he thought to himself. Closing his eyes, Armin Arlert rested his forehead on his clasp hands as the two words continued to echo through the recesses of his mind.

"Why did you do this, Annie?" he whispered. "Why?"

He waited for an answer. He has been asking that same question for the past three days since she was given to the Scouting Legion's custody. And he has been receiving the same answer each day – silence. No more, no less.

Then, just like a twig snapping in two, Armin rose from his seat, grabbed the chair and flung it on the crystal in front of him, attempting to crush it or at least scratch it. The chair shattered into pieces and the crystal remained unharmed. Gritting his teeth, Armin grabbed the stack of papers on the desk, crumpled as much as he can in his fists and threw them at the unmoving form of his comrade. When the papers are gone, the ink bottle came next in contact with the crystal. The ceramic bottle smashed into bits and pieces and the dark liquid smeared the pristine rock.

As the dark ink started to drip to the floor, Armin could feel hot, bitter liquid drip from his eyes as well. He could feel his chest wanting to explode. He could feel his palms sweat and he could feel his whole body trembling. In an attempt to control himself, the young blond grabbed the edges of the desk, held it hard until his knuckles turned white, and with a deep intake of breath, and heaved the heavy object enough to crash it through Annie's crystal prison.

The sound of wood shattering echoed through the underground dungeon. But it was nothing compared to the voice that floated through after that. A voice that couldn't possibly be from Armin Arlert, the ever calm and understanding strategist and tactician, the meekest of all of the 104th squad graduates.

"ANSWER ME, DAMN IT! I WANT YOU TO ANSWER ME, DAMN IT, ANNIE! ANSWER ME!" the young man demanded. Tears streamed down his cheeks and his knees buckled. And yet, despite the urge to crumble and cry, he charged at the transparent rock in front of him and punched it with all his might.

He attacked and attacked and attacked. He cursed to hell and high heaven, demanding an answer to the unmoving beauty in front of him.

Finally, his knuckles broke and the bleeding became incessant. The crystal was smeared with blood and dried ink. Armin looked at Annie, her face calm and emotionless. Just like the way she always looked from the moment she entered the military. It was the same face that he remembered looking at during combat training or during meals. It was the face he has always thought of when the evening has set in and lights are out. It was the face that he has strong feelings for.

And it was the face who tried to kill his best friend, who betrayed them all, and who went to lengths to kill what was left of humankind.

Agitated, frustrated, and hurt, Armin punched the crystal again, breaking more of his knuckles and smearing more blood. The pain finally drained him of power and so he leaned forward and rested his forehead on the cold crystal, eyes closed, tears running down his cheeks. After a few intakes of breath, he finally released his fist and laid his palm on the surface of the crystal.

"Annie," he whispered, falling down to his knees. "Annie, please answer me. Please. Please answer me."

"She won't answer you, Armin."

The entrance of another voice startled him into opening his eyes. It took him a second to realize from whom the comment came from. And he knew he needed not to look at him. In fact, he doesn't want to look at him right now. Not like this.

"What the hell are you doing, Armin?" the brunette asked, fists clenched at his sides. Without receiving a reply and growing rather impatient, Eren Jaeger bent and grabbed Armin's shoulder and pulled him to face him.

"I asked what the -"

"I heard your question. No need to ask it one more time. I'm not deaf, Eren!" the blond retorted, swatting away the hand that held him firm on the shoulder. Rising from his position, Armin pushed Eren away and started to head off. Halfway out the door, the blond stopped.

"Eren,"

The tall brunette shifted his gaze from the debris on the floor to the back of the young man ahead of him.

"Mikasa was right, wasn't she?" Armin asked, calmly this time.

"Right about what? What are you talking about, Armin? What exactly are you doing? Look at this mess. Look at your hand. You're a mess." Eren replied.

"She was right when she said you have feelings for Annie and that's the reason why you couldn't make yourself transform into a creature that should kill her." Armin said, still keeping his back to his friend. Eren was caught off guard. He couldn't speak, let alone breathe lightly. He lowered his gaze in the absence of any reply to that statement.

"I see," Armin said to nothing in particular and started to walk away.

"Armin, wait. Listen first."

"I don't have to listen to words anymore, Eren. I don't need them anymore."

For the first time since Eren entered the dungeon, Armin faced him and stared at his eyes. And for the first time, Eren saw something in Armin's eyes that he has never seen in all his years being with him.

Emptiness. Armin's eyes were empty. There was nothing there. Not pain. Not anger. Not jealousy. Not determination. His blue eyes were blank, translucent, crystallized.

"Armin,"

"She won't say a word to me, Eren. Not a word." Armin replied, nonchalantly. "Maybe, she will say something to you."

And with that, the blond young man left his friend.

Eren sighed heavily. He turned his gaze at Annie's crystallized form, then shifted them on the spot from where Armin once stood.

"No, Armin, you're wrong. She wouldn't say anything to you because she cares more about you than she can ever care about me. Her silence, her crystal, was made for you. It was never for me. Never for me."

Eren took out a white kerchief from his pocket and started to wipe away the smeared blood that was drying up on the surface of the crystal.

Meanwhile, just outside the dungeon hall, Armin, seated on the cobbled floor, clutched his bloodied hand to his chest, trying his best not to make a sound, trying his best to be in control, and trying desperately not to cry.