a/n: It's been eighty-four years… okay, more like four, but still! I'll level with you guys and admit that I wasn't sure where to go with this fic after the third chapter, and after losing the original draft for chapter four, I was pretty bummed about the project for a while. But that's in the past; I want to finish this properly.

So what's different this time? For starters, the fic proper has been reformatted to be easier on the eyes. I've also changed quite a few details about the set-up in order to match with the original doujin—which I've been fortunate enough to acquire!—though I should note I am largely going in my own direction. The differences are fairly extraneous, as far as the fic is concerned. (Incidentally, the doujin's quite good for what it is!)


Initially, Annie does not know Jaeger very well, nor is she quite sure how to handle his attempts at camaraderie; so she ignores him whenever possible. She knows a first impression is important, keeps herself discreet and seldom speaks. In time, she's feared by many among the trainees, and not even Bertholdt or Reiner try to get more than a few stray sentences out of her in public.

Hoover and Braun; she finds it's much easier to stay detached if she sticks with formalities.

Jaeger is a week younger, vivacious and fearless: He doesn't seem to notice, or care, about formalities. Initially she chalks it up as a lack of intellect; he's not always on about killing Titans, but everyone knows it's what he's thinking.

But they meet again as the months bleed into each other and the earth freezes and thaws, and she quickly realises she may strike him down, she may steer clear of him, she may dismiss him coolly as many times as she wishes but she cannot truly avoid him, not forever, because in the end he just keeps coming back, and she's not quite unkind enough to do something drastic enough to make him stop.

Braun seems to think it's funny, and it's become impossible to rebuff him with violence alone, because she can't do much to him besides flip him over his arse; it was impressive the first time she demonstrated, but nowadays, more often than not, all it seems to do is give the others a reason to laugh at how unflappable he is.

Hardly anyone tries to talk to her, though, so this must be working. Annie tries to remind herself that she does not hate Jaeger or Braun. She still finds herself unreasonably irritable whenever she runs into either of them in the open. At least Jaeger wants to learn from her; Reiner's been nothing but an arse as of late. If Annie were less cynical she might even let herself find it quaint that the former boy respects her so much.

She keeps forgetting Hoover is there; not forgetting, because she can feel his eyes on her. He'll smile if she doesn't ignore him. She knows he's looking out for her because Braun won't bother, but she's not as cold as she likes to believe. Hoover's already got his hands full with Braun, trying to keep him on the straight-and-narrow, as Colt had once put it: The Warrior program already feels like a lifetime ago…

It's shaping up to be another quiet night in the courtyard. The few cadets that usually hang around to play cards and socialise are already going off to bed, and the sun has just begun to set. Annie has not had much time to think about matters beyond the reaches of her own self-preservation, what with the certainty of graduation looming over their heads—and the ambiguity of whatever will come afterward—but now….

"Oi, Annie!"

She's not alone, she realises. Jaeger is here, too. How he's managed to extract himself from the company of Arlert and Ackermann is anyone's guess. He hasn't said hello to her yet, just lingers in the background like he's got nowhere else to be, but she can feel him watching her.

She does not remember when this started, exactly, only that it's been a problem ever since last spring, and she has come to recognise her mistake for what it is.

She knows that she could put an end to this, if she really wanted. She knows he would probably let her, as she feels his eyes settle on her back like a knife held steady to the gap between her shoulder blades; he frightens her, unlike Hoover or Braun. Her nails are blunt, digging into her palms; she realises she's trembling. Something sparks off rebelliously in the pit of her belly.

She isn't sure what she'll do if she stays here.

"Annie? Wait up a second!" Against all good judgement she stops, allowing him to catch up with her. "I was gonna ask you about that technique you used on Jean the other day; what's it called?"

Annie blinks. She isn't sure what would compel him to ask such an inane question, or why she's bothering to entertain the thought of answering him at all. But she's let him get this far, hasn't she? "I don't remember," she answers truthfully. "And as I've said, the name doesn't matter. It won't help you survive."

He frowns, like he'd known she would say it but is nevertheless disappointed. It's almost cute, she thinks, then catches herself; Jaeger has always been thick enough to ignore her advances, perhaps to his advantage. A new emotion strikes her now, slow and insidious; when she speaks, her words are tinged with disappointment: "Is that all you wanted to ask me?"

His guilty look tells her enough; she's ready to turn on her heel and leave him to rethink his idiotic strategy, but then he swallows, appears to lose a bit of nerve before he recalls himself: "Well, what d'you want to talk about?"

She's taken aback by the bluntness of the question. Jaeger's eyes narrow, and Annie knows she's been caught. "I don't talk about anything," she replies, trying to be cool about it. He grabs her shoulder before she can evade him; on any other night, it would be the last time he tried. But he isn't moving. She really doesn't understand why.

"Am I supposed to read your mind, then?" he retorts.

Annie knows she's lingered too long; she's breathing him in, can feel the heat of his body through his shirt and wonders—if it's mutual, and if she keeps him up at night. She needs to get away before one of them makes a mistake.

His grip tightens, alerting her. "O.K., enough of this cryptic shit. Give me a straight answer."

She sneers. "You're an idiot, Jaeger."

His jaw sets. "Funny."

Annie ignores this. "But you're not hopeless. You just need a little coaching, that's all."

He scowls at her. "Look, I'll go, if that's what you really want."

Retreat is inadvisable. She studies the shape of his wrist, deliberates how best she could break his fingers, and makes her choice: "Have you ever been kissed?"

"I'm not—what?" Gone is his agitation. He looks bewildered. "Wait, uh. Is that what this is about?" Annie's beginning to regret her decision. She can't quite look at him, and her heart skips when he adds, gruffly: "I mean, you could've just asked." Trying for bravado, but he jumps when she glances at him, just to be sure. His eyes seem a little darker in the low light, his lips chapped, jaw relaxed. His shirt is threadbare but it's all he wears in the warmer months; he's growing out of it. She's never really thought about another human in this sort of detail before, and before she has time to realise the gravity of her error he's drawing her in.

It's not the first time she's been kissed, or thought about it—but it's never escalated beyond the limitations of common sense, and it's never mattered beyond the principle of the thing. For all of the heat in his gaze and the firmness of his grasp, he's very tentative with her. Annie thinks she might be grateful.

They part with a soft, awkward noise. "Um," says Jaeger. "Yeah, so."

He says something else but she doesn't hear for the frantic pulse of her own heart. She shuts her eyes tight, opens them. Making up her mind with the turn of her heel and heads for the girl's barracks; she will not lose control now.


She doesn't give Jaeger anymore thought. It's shaping up to be another uneventful night, which is preferable.

Camaraderie is a foreign concept, better utilised as a tool, and it's why she keeps her mouth shut among others. The girls have learnt quick enough to stop asking where she's been, or why; Ymir is the only one that bothers her, because she doesn't care enough to ask, just keeps tabs on everyone else and will only offer smug rejoinders when questioned, especially when Krista isn't there to keep her in line. She reminds Annie a bit of Reiner, or Marcel, when he was still enlisted.

She's heading for her bunk when someone calls: "Hey, Annie."

It's not Ymir, of course, just one of Mina's friends. Annie had been hoping to avoid this altogether, but she can't be lucky all the time. With a feeling of resignation, she turns her head. "What?"

"We were just…" pause, not to play coy, just testing the waters "…talking, about people we liked." Annie notes the strategic phrasing: people, not boys, elsewise the conversation would've ended seconds ago. She's not entirely sure why it hasn't ended already, because it's not like she'll suddenly learn how to socialise. "Is there anyone you're inter—?"

"No."

An exasperated sigh. "Aw, you're no fun."

"Leave her alone," Mina chides, and Annie has never been more thankful to have another girl on her side.

"But she always does this whenever we try and talk about anything with her!" Greta complains.

"Because I don't care," Annie mutters. No one is listening.

"She was really close with Eren during our hand-to-hand sessions. Weren't you?" Mina adds, looking hopefully at Annie, as if under the impression that she holds some kind of sway in this argument. Or maybe she's just trying to help. It doesn't matter.

"I just said I don't care," Annie reiterates. It's all stupid, anyway.

Greta gives up quickly, stealing Mina away to talk about whatever inconsequential matter has grabbed her fancy. Annie reclines herself and watches the sky turning dark, tries not to think about how inane life will be in the Military Police; at least here she has something to whittle away her days, pretend she has some purpose outside doing what comes naturally—they haven't even sorted out where the Progenitor is, or who has it, or what it would be manifested as—wake up, train, throw herself into this stupid ODM gear exam and then it'll be over and she won't have to deal with girl-talk ever again.

It should make her happy, she thinks. Few things do.

Eventually Mina comes back to see how she's doing: "We have the day off, to-morrow. Did you have any plans?"

Annie shrugs. So Mina sits down beside her. "We're going to graduate soon," Annie says. "I'm going to enlist in the Military Police."

"Well, that's you, Annie. You've definitely got the grades to show for it." Mina grins. "All you and I have to do now is pass the ODM gear exam. Why do you want to be an MP, anyway?"

"Does it matter?"

"Well, you don't really seem the type," says Mina. "You're not like most of the other cadets who apply. You're too…."

Annie waits for her to finish the statement, but she doesn't. Impatiently, she asks: "What, Carolina?"

Mina shakes her head. "Never mind. As long as you get where you want to be; that's all that really matters, right?"

"I guess."

Annie knows by now that pressing for information will only make the situation worse. "I don't know if I'll be able to cut out for much, maybe a spot in the Garrison or something," Mina finally admits, as Annie had dreaded. A knot twists her stomach; providing comfort is considerably out of her scope.

"You'll be fine," she lies. We're almost out of here.