Disclaimer: I don't own Shingeki no Kyojin.


Under Darkening Skies and Falling Petals

"I hear they're coming home today, Armin."

The petals of a crown resting atop a pillow of blonde rustled with fervent nodding. "Mmhm! I can't wait to see them again! I want to ask them if the books are right about what's out there."

The young brunette grinned at his excited companion. "I know! Ma was baking stuff for your family, too! And you know how good Ma's cookies are. They're a del… a de-lick-acy!

"Delicacy, Eren." Their laughter rang out in the open pasture under the summer sun, soon overthrown by the heavy chime of iron bells at the gates. Their heads snapped up in that direction, the grins on their faces never faltering as they turned to each other, noses nearly bumping in their haste, "They're here!"

The two were off, stumbling hand in hand down the hill and to the inner gates of Shiganshina, Armin holding the crown of flowers to keep them from flying away with the winds that blew from darkening skies and low, grey clouds. They dashed past Hannes and the other Garrisons, past the beginnings of the market, past older children who shouted things that fell on their deaf ears. Armin's grandfather was just closing the door as they ran up to the porch, jumping around the elder man and tugging on his hands.

Grandfather chuckled at their enthusiasm and told them to run ahead and grab a spot in the street to watch the soldiers march in. Eren nodded and took Armin's hand again, leading them back to the market square.

"Over here, Eren! Over here!" Armin waved him over to a place where they squeezed between a few people, Grandfather soon joining in behind them. "Do you see them?"

"No, not yet. Maybe they're near the end?" Armin's mother had always been a pretty lady to Eren; he'd know her in a crowd of hundreds, yet he couldn't find the smaller woman in the rows of soldiers. Nor could he find Armin's father, who easily towered over many, a sharp contrast to his wife.

The clouds rolled in time with the heavy footfalls of the soldiers, weighing on their shoulders and seeming to hunch their backs forwards and push their expressions down. Many clutched at wrapped up limbs, some just bleeding, and some fully missing. Eren tried to jump as high as he could to see if Armin's mother or father were lying in the carts, something he hoped he wouldn't find.

He bit his lip in frustration and watched as the end of the sombre parade filed up the street and away from where they were. Shifting his gaze to fall on Armin, he found his friend stepping a little further into the street, a bold move for the young blonde.

"Where… Where are they? I didn't see them, and they weren't in the carts… Where…?" Blue eyes were filled with unease, dark like the skies looming above. Hands worried together, fingers rubbing over tiny knuckles, something Eren knew Armin to do when he was anxious. He took his friend's hands apart and held them in his own, "Maybe… Maybe they're still coming? They could be late. Maybe they took another way to go talk to someone important?"

Armin's eyebrows knotted themselves up in concern and he looked at Eren silently before turning up to question Grandfather, blue eyes large and glazed over with worried tears, "Gran'pa…? Where're Mama and Papa?"

The elder's expression was grave; his eyes soft as he stooped lower to Armin's level. He moved to say something, the hair on his upper lip shuddered as he exhaled. Then he placed his hand atop Armin's head, careful of the crown of now wilting flowers, and shook his head slowly.

Armin knew what it meant. It was the same as saying it out loud. Grandfather's rough voice whispered in his mind, I'm sorry, my boy. They won't be coming home.

Armin stared with his still-wide eyes, then turned them down to the gravel.

"… Oh."

Eren heard the tiny crack in his voice, saw the little point where the tears began to spill out over round, pale cheeks, and felt the small tremors in the blonde's little hands that he held onto tightly.

"… Oh," Armin mumbled again, shaking like the petals that fell from his crown and hair, "Oh, alright… I-I hope they're still out there, though… I hope they can make it to those places in the books."

Eren watched his friend carefully, mouth parted in shock at the words as Armin raised his head to see him. Warm tears flowed freely from his friend's dazed eyes, a single white petal clinging to the moisture on his cheek, "M-Maybe they should've brought the book with them t-to know where to go…"

It took all but a second for Eren to drop their hands and throw his arms around Armin, holding him tight as he tasted his own salty tears running down his face. Eren briefly wondered if that was what ocean water tasted like; warm and bitter like tears of loss and grief. The thought made him feel sad.

He could feel Grandfather's hands on their backs, rubbing soothing circles between their shoulder blades, trying to calm Armin's sobs. Eren kept his hands below Grandfather's, just nestled on Armin's lower back, gripping at the fabric of his baggy blue jacket.

"We'll find them. When we go out there ourselves, we'll find them waiting and they'll have everything mapped out and we'll follow that map and explore, okay? We'll find them, Armin."

Armin's cries were muffled in his shoulder, and died down as he nodded.

Armin's tears stopped a few days later, yet he was numbed. His blue eyes stayed dark like the skies overhead and his smiles muted. Whenever Eren would see him, he would grasp at his hands and take him to their open pasture outside of Shiganshina's gates, within Wall Maria, and make crowns of flowers for the blonde, placing them gently atop his head and hoping the summer skies to turn bright blue once more.


My headcanon on Armin's parents has changed since I wrote this one, but sad/comforting Eremins will always be relevant.