A/N: Hello everyone! I forgot to make an author's note for the last chapter, sorry about that. :/

But I'm basically hoping to be able to upload a new chapter per week, so we'll see how that goes. It all depends on how much schoolwork I get and how addicted I become to the new Pokemon game. Also I pretty much know how I want this story to go, so there hopefully won't be any random hiatuses.

I'll also be posting this story on AO3: /works/1004552/chapters/1990497

And on my Tumblr account: post/64333030484/dead-hearts-chapter-1

Howling ghosts they reappear

In mountains that are stacked with fear

But you're a king and I'm a lionheart

A lionheart

-King and Lionheart, Of Monsters and Men

School started a few weeks later. Armin was enrolled in the local elementary school, in kindergarten; he was thankfully put in the same class as Eren and Mikasa but, much to their dismay, Sasha got put in another class. The night before the first day, he sat in the living room with his grandfather, putting his school supplies into his brand new backpack.

"Mummy helped me pick out my stuff for school last year," Armin said quietly, putting a brand-new pack of markers into the backpack. "She didn't buy everything that was on the list, though, because she said I didn't need it."

Armin rarely talked about his parents or what it had been like with them. His grandfather didn't even know what exactly had happened. He knew they had been arrested after Armin called 999 one night, but he didn't know why the boy had done what he had done and he refused to talk about it. He also knew his son and daughter-in-law had been charged with several accounts of drug use and possession, as well as child abuse and neglect. About a month after their arrest, Armin had testified against his parents in court, but he had only said the bare minimum; just enough to prove what they had done.

Mikasa, Eren, and Sasha had no idea why Armin had really moved in with his grandfather. Instead he told them that his parents had gone away, almost hoping they'd interpret that as them dying. Of course, their parents knew a bit, but that was even less than what his grandfather knew. Maybe one day Armin would tell the whole story, but for now he kept it bottled up inside, only bringing the memories out when he was by himself, carefully going over them with unsure emotions.

The next morning, Armin's grandfather walked with him to the bus stop. Eren was already there with his mother, standing by the stop sign. He perked up when he saw Armin, smiling widely at him.

"This is gonna be the best school year ever!" he said cheerfully, rocking back on his heels.

Armin nodded slightly, picking at the sleeves of his sweater. He knew this year would be much better than his last one, but he still had reservations about it. Before he could think too much, however, Mikasa and Sasha arrived, grinning and talking happily. The bus came soon after, yellow and looming as it stopped in front of the group of kids and adults. The doors opened, and an older lady with short graying hair smiled down at them. Eren grabbed Armin's hand, leading him towards the bus and up the stairs. The small boy was able to give his grandfather a quick wave before the doors shut and they all took their seats.

They were the youngest kids on the bus, and sat at the very front, two to a seat; Armin with Eren, and Mikasa with Sasha. The ride wasn't very long, though Armin wished it was longer; anything to prolong getting to school.

Normally, Armin loved school. He had only been in reception in England and he hadn't had any friends, but it had been a chance to get away from home and learn new things. And while he had friends this time, he was actually happy at home; his grandfather had tons of books that he would read to Armin, and they often talked about the things he liked. Eren was always over, and they were often outside running around with Mikasa and Sasha. Going to school would thrust him right back into the unfamiliar just as he was finally getting used to his new life. He still tried to be excited though, listening attentively as Eren chatted with him the entire way.

As they climbed off the bus at school, Armin kept his grip tight on Eren's hand. Mikasa grabbed Armin's other hand, and Sasha grabbed her's. Together, they walked to the front of the school where the other students were lining up by their teachers. They had to leave Sasha then, but there were only two kindergarten classes, side by side, so they were able to stay relatively close to each other. Armin stood quietly at the back of the line as the remaining buses arrived and the kids on them got off. It didn't seem anyone else from their class would be arriving, so when the bell rang and their teacher led them inside he stayed at the back, behind Eren and Mikasa.

The classroom was near the front of the school, in a little hallway that branched off near the office. There were about five classrooms in it, all for kindergarten and first grade. It wasn't much different from his class in England; the desks were put together in groups of four, and there were posters and drawings tacked up everywhere. There was a box with markers, pencil crayons, and other supplies in it in the middle of each group, and a name tag was stuck to the corner of every desk with Velcro.

Everyone was told to find their names. Armin found his quickly, though he realized that neither Eren nor Mikasa were in his group. This made him a little nervous, but he still sat down, keeping his eyes focused on his hands.

When everyone was settled, the teacher stood at the front of the classroom, smiling at them all. She introduced herself, and told them several things about herself, like what things she liked to do and where she was from. She then told them to introduce themselves like she had, starting with the boy sitting beside Mikasa. As he stood up, Armin glanced over at him, and felt that same strange feeling he'd gotten when he first met Eren.

The boy had short light brown hair and dark eyes, and as he stood he gave everyone a big smirk that Armin could only describe as undoubtedlyhim—which confused him to no end, as he'd never seen the boy before in his life. Armin felt as if his name was on the very tip of his tongue, but no matter how hard he thought he couldn't remember it. It was like it was buried in the deepest part of his mind, and refused to move.

However, when the boy introduced himself as Jean, it seemed like the most obvious thing in the world—of course his name was Jean. What else would it be? Even as he sat down, Armin kept his eyes focused on him. Nothing else like that happened with the rest of his classmate's introductions, though. None of them felt familiar, none of them had names Armin felt he should know.

When it was finally his turn, he slowly stood up, balling his hands nervously around the sleeves of his sweater. Everyone's eyes were on him, most of them wanting to know who the kid they'd never seen before was. "Um, I'm Armin," he started, stuttering and fumbling around his words. "I like to read and draw, and—,"

"You sound funny," one of the other students cried out, cutting him off. "Why do you sound funny?" The teacher quickly scolded them, telling them not to interrupt, before motioning at Armin to continue.

"Uh, I'm from England," he said quietly. "Everyone sounds like this there."

This seemed to fascinate the majority of the class. "Where's England?" someone asked, looking from Armin to the teacher.

"It's in Europe," she explained, going over to the board and pulling down a map. She pointed to where they were, in America, before showing them all where England was. "It's this island right here. Where in England did you live, Armin?"

"London," he said, slowly sitting back down. Everyone was looking at either him or the board, and when he glanced at Eren he had the biggest grin on his face. He still didn't like having so many eyes on him, and curled in on himself, picking at his nails.

"Why did you move here?" the teacher asked, general curiosity in her voice.

"Um, I-I came to live with my grandfather," Armin explained. The teacher nodded, and thankfully didn't ask any more questions. The next person stood up to introduce themselves, and Armin sank down into his chair.

School wasn't nearly as bad as he had thought, even though he already knew it wouldn't be horrible. The people he sat with in class were nice, though they liked getting him to say different things to hear how they would sound. At lunch and during recesses, he spent his time with Eren, Mikasa, and Sasha. He loved learning, and was one of the smartest people in his class; his teacher was constantly praising him. There were, however, some people who liked to pick on him, but Eren and Mikasa always stood up for him.

Halloween rolled around almost two months after school started. Armin had never really liked the holiday; his parents never took him out trick-or-treating, and instead spent the night at parties, leaving him alone at home. Last year, he had sat in front of the window looking out on the street and had watched the few kids who lived in his neighbourhood walking around with their parents, dressed up. Not many people trick-or-treated on his street, as it wasn't a particularly good area of the city.

This year, however, he would be going with Eren, Mikasa, and Sasha. They were all very scandalized when he told them he'd never gone trick-or-treating, and vowed to fix that. They helped him pick out a costume (a wizard), and ran him through all the ropes as if trick-or-treating were a very serious business.

On October 31st, his grandfather gave him a bag for his candy and brought him over to the Jaegers. Eren's father, Grisha, and Mikasa's father would be taking the four kids around the neighbourhood. Everyone else was already there when he arrived, and left soon after.

Eren, who was dressed a knight, insisted on ringing the doorbell at every house. After a while, Mikasa got tired of this, and punched him in the face to get him to stop. And while she did get in trouble for doing it, Eren stopped, which seemed to make her happy. At about 8:30, they got tired and cold, so they all trekked back to Eren's house. There, they went through their candy together, trading and talking about which were their favourites.

Armin's grandfather came to pick him up near 9pm, and he fell asleep still dressed in his costume.

"Armin, get down!" Eren whispered harshly at the blond boy, grabbing his head and pushing him down behind the pile of snow. "Mikasa will see you!"

"Sorry," Armin said, pressing himself up against the snow. There were several snow balls stacked beside him, ready to be thrown at a moment's notice.

Christmas vacation had started two days ago. Since then, there had already been a large storm that had covered the ground in a foot-tall white, fluffy blanket. Eren had dragged him outside to build snow forts, and they'd ended up in a snowball war with Mikasa and Sasha, who were currently nowhere to be seen.

"Wait… I think I hear them…" Eren muttered, slowly peeking about the snow bank. As soon as he did so, however, there was the sound of two loud battle cries as Mikasa and Sasha jumped over the bank, pelted them with snowballs. Armin was thrown onto his back as he was attacked from all directions, and while Eren attempted to make an escape he didn't get far before a particularly hard throw from Mikasa nearly knocked him over.

"Ha! We win!" Sasha said, grinning at the two boys.

Eren glared at her. "Dummköpfen," he mumbled, rubbing his head where Mikasa had hit him.

"Your mom said you're not allowed to say that," Mikasa said, crossing her arms and smirking at him.

"Dummkopf!" Eren yelled, sticking his tongue out at her before running off as she started chasing after him.

On Christmas Eve, Armin sat by his window, looking up at the sky. The light was off in Eren's room, just across from his, but he could see the boy's nightlight shining dully from a corner. The moon and stars, however, were bright, and the snow sparkled several feet beneath his window.

He wondered what his parents were doing. He hadn't heard from them since he saw them in court, all those months ago. He wondered if they celebrated Christmas in jail. The holiday had never been horrible for Armin; he would decorate a tree with his parents, and on the morning of December 25th there'd be some presents under the tree—just a few small things, but he always loved them.

Armin didn't miss his parents very often, but as he thought about their past few Christmases together he felt tears stinging his eyes. Shuffling away from the window, he crawled beneath his covers, pulling his blanket up around his face.