A/N

Hello there! This story idea literally spawned out of no idea and wouldn't refuse to leave until I had written it down. Anyways, I hope you enjoy.

Disclaimer: This is a work of fan fiction using characters and ideas from the Attack on Titan and Naruto worlds, which are trademarked by Hajime Isayama and Masashi Kishimoto respectively. I do not own the characters, world, and ideas outlined in the aforementioned worlds.

The day was a sunny day, the fluffy white clouds were parted, and the scorching rays of the sun beat down on the occupants of Shiganshina. It was on such a bright and happy day that a young Armin Arlert was dashing down the cobbled roads of the district as fast as his short and stubby legs could take him. The sweat covered boy seemed to tire as he moved about the pathways of the town. Armin could not recall how long he had been running, just that he had and that he could not stop. The young blonde ran straight ahead past the marketplace. He craned his neck backwards and saw them, the boy quickly snapped his head forwards and saw an older man walking in front of him. Armin's eyes dilated as he turned to the side. He wasn't fast enough, their bodies collided, falling backwards.

Armin could feel panic setting in, he pushed himself up and began to run "Sorry!"

He could hear the old man getting up behind him, "Damn kids," Armin said nothing, stifling his guilt as he ran harder.

The boy turned a corner and swivelled around the people surrounding him. Armin could still hear the nasty chuckles from behind him as his pursuers seemed to gain on him. His eyes looked despairingly at the pathway ahead that was closed off for pavement work. Armin felt a harsh finger grasping at his shoulder from behind. The boy panicked and jerked his body forward. In a display of desperation, he turned a corner and ran inside the alleyway to his right. As he looked inside he realized there was nothing in front of him except for an unforgiving stone wall. The boy turned backwards and wished that his pursuers weren't behind him.

They were, and he could see them clearly.

His hope was gone.

Armin moved his feet backwards until they could go no more. His back hit the wall surface and pressed up against it in fear. He felt his heartbeat raise as he saw the trio of boys facing him with their teeth bared and cruel mockeries of smiles on their faces. Their expressions seemed to be only enhanced by the terrifyingly shaped shadow cast by the nearby roof.

Armin swallowed thickly as one of the boys raised his fists, "You have nowhere to run now, Heretic!"

The three came closer and their thudding steps seemed to echo with a sound that he decided better-suited creatures much bigger than they. Armin became more frightened as it seemed to him that their smiles only grew bigger, and bigger as they approached him.

His heart had skipped a beat, suddenly they were close, too close, he closed his eyes as the first of the meaty fists impacted with his frail skin. He pondered what he had done to them—Another fist met his stomach and his eyes began to water—why did they pick on him? A savage kick was released, and he felt his shins cry in protest—why was it only him? An elbow was poised to strike—he wanted them to stop, but he could do nothing— a scream sounded off as the elbow struck his gut. Armin collapsed on the floor with slight drops of red flowing from his chapped, dry lips. He shut his tearful eyes and laid still.

Armin could hear the nervous tremble in one of their voices as they spoke, "Guys," the young bully paused and quickly glanced around, "I think we should leave." It was quiet for a moment. Armin scrunched up his eyes further and stilled his breath.

"Let's go," he heard alongside the thudding sounds of their retreating footsteps.

The boy let out a breath of relief and laid there on the cool floor, it felt nice, soothing the warm aching bruises the bullies carelessly left behind. He could no longer feel the crippling fear and the painfully fast beat of his heart. As Armin's heartbeat began to relax in its tempo he wondered why he was such a coward, a coward that couldn't bring himself to fight back. Armin relaxed for a while before he pushed himself upwards placing an arm on the smooth, white wall beside him. The bleary-eyed boy took his first step and made to trudge his way home.

He often thought that his aggressors hated him because he wanted to see the world outside the walls that caged them. He had always wanted to see the scenes from his grandfather's book, the ice-covered plains, the snow-covered mountains, and most of all, he wanted to see the ocean, a salty blue expanse that stretched out as far as the eye could see. The ocean was big, it was blue, and the sounds of the waves were said to be relaxing. He thought of it often, he thought of what it might be like when he visited.

Would it be warm when he went?

Would there be those white squawking birds?

The more he thought about it, the more Armin felt like he had to go. He just had to go, and he would go. It wasn't fair that he got picked on for that the young boy concluded, nodding his head.

Armin stretched briefly and winced at the slight jolt of pain that crawled up his body, he drowned the pain out and thought of his oldest friend, Eren. They shared a dream to leave the walls that trapped them. Both of them often daydreamed together, thinking of being able to see the vast sights the world had to offer. It was his grandfather's old book that inspired them both, and it was that very same book that awoke in them a sense of curiosity for the outside world.

Eren, he decided was a good friend, he helped him when he was down and often got himself hurt in the process. It pained him each time Eren stepped in for him, bravely looking down at his bullies and fighting until his face resembled a plum. It was only after Mikasa entered their lives that Eren stopped getting hurt because of him, and for that, Armin was glad. This time, however, he was alone, Eren was on a trip with his father and Mikasa had gone along with him. There was no one who could've helped him, not today, and Armin couldn't have fought back, no he was too weak for that. No matter how much it hurt to admit it, he knew he was a burden for his friends, and someone they had to protect.

It was upon thinking of such thoughts that the boy arrived at the doorstep of his house. Armin stopped hiding his pain and somehow mustered the strength to stumble up the stony cut tiles of the stairs. The boy extended his hand and gently rapped his knuckles against the wooden door. The sound echoed clearly in a rapid series of thunks. Armin didn't have to wait too long before the wood door was pulled backwards, exposing a yellow and warmly lit interior. His grandfather stared outwards at the young boy and recoiled. Armin was quickly dosed in a stare of concern as his grandfather's brown eyes focused themselves on his injuries.

"Armin?" The older man stepped out of the door and placed a gentle hand on top his grandson's head, "what happened?"

Armin felt his throat clog up and choke, he found that he could not speak. A slight drizzle of tears escaped his eyes.

His grandfather bent down and pulled him into a hug, his warm and strong arms wrapping around his frail childish body as if shielding him from the world, "It was those bullies wasn't it?"

Armin only sniffled his reddening nose and cried harder.

The old man held him tighter in response and remained silent for a moment. His grandfather then removed the arms encircling Armin and gently guided the young boy to a soft plushy couch inside the house. The elderly man waited for Armin to sit before lifting the boy's shirt upwards, baring the child's injured stomach to the world.

His grandfathers normally rigid eyes softened as he stared at his grandson, "Does it hurt anywhere else?"

Armin pushed down his emotions and raised his face caked with tears to look at his grandfather, "Yes," he shook slightly as he shakily pointed to his right shin.

His grandfather carefully lifted the right pant leg and looked at his shin. The man paused for a second before Armin could feel his grandfather's hands as they gently picked up his light, small frame. He felt safe as the man carried him, his grandfather seemed to have that effect on him. Those gentle hands carefully placed him down on a bed in the nearest room.

"Stay here," he heard as the pitter-pattering of his grandfather's feet grew more distant.

Armin sat and wondered sometimes what his life would be like without his grandfather. His old wrinkled features were a comfort that no one seemed to be able to produce, not even Eren. Armin realized he was lucky, oh so very lucky to have family who loved him so dearly—

"Drink it," his eyes refocused as he saw his grandfather holding a glass of water in front of him, "you'll feel better."

Armin extended his small pale fingers and grasped the cool see-through glass. He raised it to his lips and greedily drank the water inside. The feeling of the water was comforting as it flowed down his throat, it seemed to make him feel better, it made him feel safer.

He stared at his grandfather, the man who had comforted him when he was weak, the person who had supported him always, "Grandpa I—" he paused, his throat refusing to speak "I love you."

The older man simply looked at Armin and smiled, "I know," the man then raised a hand and tousled the boy's hair, "I love you too."

Armin felt warm and smiled. They sat like that for a while, simply enjoying one another's presence. Eventually, the elder man seemed satisfied and walked out of the room, leaving the boy to rest.

With a more relaxed and confident state, Armin finally realized where he was. It was his parents' room, a room that hadn't been used in ages, a room that seemed to be barren of the signs of day to day life. His parents had left a while back, they had gone to see the world outside of the walls. He remembers telling Eren and Mikasa, he recalls his own joy and excitement at the possible stories his parents would bring back, and he distinctively remembers the absence and the sadness in his grandfather's eyes thereafter.

Armin placed the now empty cup down on the bedside table beside him. There was an oddly familiar object that seemed to catch his eye. It was a small black book, a book he remembered that his mother had never let him read. His curiosity was peaked and so he did not hesitate to lift the book off the wooden table. He pushed away the dust layering the cover and placed the book in his lap. His fingers grasped the black cover and gently tugged to open the book. The book was resolute and refused to open. This seemed to only make the boy more curious, lighting a flame of curiosity within his baby blue eyes. He tried again, this time more forcibly and yet it still refused to budge. Armin was getting frustrated and placed his hands on the middle pages of the book. The boy yanked hard and yelped as he brought his hand away from the page that cut his finger.

Armin placed his hands back on the cover of the book and scrunched up his eyebrows in thought. He enjoyed thinking about puzzles, they seemed to make him wonder and want to know more. He stared hard at the book as if it would give him the answers he desired. To the boy's unyielding surprise, the book began to glow from the very point where his wounded finger lay.

Armin's eyes light up in awe as he watched dark, entrancing, red runic symbols spread out from under his finger in crisscrossing and spiralling patterns. The lines spread for a while before they glowed a bright white colour in a final display of splendour, disappearing without a single sound. He wondered if what he saw was magic. Armin shook his head and pulled himself out of his thoughts. He grabbed the cover and yanked it open. This time it came free easily without any resistance.

The young boy's stare greedily drank up the lines of text that covered the old yellowed pages of the small book. Armin read to himself:

A beginner's guide to sealing—Minato Namikaze. Armin already had so many questions, he wondered what sealing was and who the author was. In his amazed state drunk on the display of magic, he flipped through the book to the start of the guide.

Sealing is the act of inscribing symbols and text onto a surface to achieve different results. Its limits are near boundless, you are only limited to the extent of your imagination and energy reserves.

Armin was interested, sealing? Magic? He had never seen anything like this before and it seemed to suck him in a search for answers. As he flicked through the text he saw images of a large fox-like creature being sucked into a red-headed woman, he saw a man with bright yellow hair vanishing and reappearing from symbol to symbol, and he saw a man keeping his food warm with another one of those strange runic markings.

Armin's hands shook slightly as he excitedly flipped backwards to continue reading.

However, be warned, this art is dangerous and should be learned with the utmost caution. A single misstep, a single mistake could mean the difference between life or death for yourself and those you hold dear.

Even after reading of the potential danger of this newfound magic, of the art of sealing, Armin could still not contain the bubbling feeling of excitement and curiosity that seemed to swallow him whole. The boy didn't want to be a burden, not to his grandfather, and certainly not to his friends, he didn't care about the danger. He wanted to learn what was in this book, he wanted to learn its magic. This was his book, it was his, something that he didn't have to share with anyone, something that he didn't want to share with anyone. Armin placed the book back on the table and closed his eyes. The boy's lips stretched into a small sincere smile as he descended into the realm of sleep, consumed only with the thoughts of his small black book.

A/N

Well chapters over, did you enjoy the idea/premise, any thoughts, advice? Send me a pm/leave a review if so. Anyways, folks, I hope you enjoy your day :).