December, 1938
Torn away from the warmth of his dreams by reality, Armin shivered as he woke up. He had been dreaming of the summer days he had spent with the girl he had been dreaming of ever since he had to leave her behind. The dreams gave him mixed feelings, of happiness, longing and sadness all combined. A part of him was thankful, for his dreams were the only place where he would see the girl. However, they also made him feel terribly homesick. There wasn't a day that went by where he didn't feel that way, it wasn't because London was a bad town, but it wasn't the place he called home.
The boy sat up and noticed a wet patch on the sofa where he had been dribbling in his sleep again. He looked around the living room which was dusty and cluttered with books as usual. The air was stale, but he didn't really want to open a window because it was far too cold outside. The only sound that could be heard throughout the small house was the ticking of the clock on the mantel piece. His father was out, and the absence of his grandfather meant that he must have gone into town to visit the library. Armin looked to the clock, straining his eyes in order to try and decipher what the time was.
It was just past two in the afternoon and he realised he must have dropped off over an hour ago while reading one of his favourite books. Although he always loved reading, he found himself to be very lonely. Books were now his only friends. Despite living in London for over a year, he had failed to make a single proper friend. He loved school, but only because he enjoyed learning. At first, he had been anxious about going, because he was unable to speak English. Fortunately, he had picked up on the language very quickly, thankful for the fact that it was similar to his mother tongue. The teachers seemed to adore him, and praised him for being a fast learner. They had also deemed him to be one of, if not the smartest child in the school.
However, the students didn't seem to like him. He was often subject to bullying, mostly for being the 'teacher's pet' or at first, 'the new kid'. His German accent still lingered too, and Armin was also very quiet and shy, for these reasons also, the kids would often poke fun at him. Being rejected by his peers had caused his esteem to plummet even further. He had always been a target for bullies even back in his hometown, but at least things had been better then, since he wasn't completely alone. Needless to say, the boy was feeling extremely miserable.
It did not help that other factors in his life were contributing to that feeling. His mother had become seriously ill in September, and it seemed like she was only getting worse. She was currently upstairs, almost completely bedridden due to her sickness. She hadn't been eating properly, and was becoming thinner by the day. The young boy didn't know what to do, nor did his father or grandfather. For the last couple of months, they had been desperately trying to find a good doctor. None of the doctors who had been hired knew what was wrong, and they hadn't even been able to provide a way of making the pain any more tolerable for the woman. He supposed it didn't help that his mother could only communicate with the doctors in broken English. She had never learnt the language, after all, she had never imagined she would have to flee from her homeland for the sake of her family. Armin's father was able to translate some of the time, but he was a writer and therefore often busy at work. His grandfather continued to do his best to research at the library what could be wrong, but so far, he had had no such luck.
Armin let out a sigh and trotted into the kitchen, thinking it was a good time to make something to eat for his sick mother. He made tea and put together soup with bread, knowing that she would only be able to consume something light. When finished preparing the meal, he carried it upstairs on a tray and knocked once, he called out to let her know he was about to enter and then pushed the door open gently, balancing the tray in one hand. His mother was already sitting up in bed, and she gave him a weak smile as he stepped in.
The boy had inherited most of his mother's features, her small nose that sloped upwards, extremely large eyes, and petite frame. However, her eyes and hair were darker than his. Her beautiful auburn hair was now limp around her shoulders, it was usually very thick and wavy. Armin also noticed the dark circles under her eyes and couldn't help but frown, he felt so helpless watching his mother deteriorate like this. He missed the light in her eyes, and the redness in her cheeks. It was as if she was fading away completely, and he felt awful.
Armin placed the tray of food on the bedside table, and brought the chair from the dresser to the side of the bed to sit down, "I thought you would like something to eat," His mother nodded and gave him another weak smile. Armin handed her the cup of tea and he noticed how her hands where shaking as she held it, the motion caused some of the beverage to spill over the edge and onto the bed sheets, "Mama, are you alright?" he questioned worriedly.
"Yes, I'm just very…tired." she let out a sigh and closed her eyes while bringing the cup to her lips.
There was a long silence and Armin began to feel more and more concerned, "You will get better." he suddenly whispered to her.
Her golden brown eyes opened again and she set the cup aside, "Hopefully." There was a faint smile on her face, and she took hold of Armin's hand that had been resting in his lap. He winced ever so slightly at the contact, because she was stone cold.
"You will. We'll find you a good doctor." Armin felt tears burning at the corners of his eyes and he tried desperately to blink them back, but to no avail.
His mother nodded, "Don't cry, Spätzchen (little sparrow)." She brought her other hand to wipe away the tears that had already made their way down her son's cheeks.
Armin only frowned.
I hate feeling so useless and helpless. I don't want to cry. I don't want to show how scared I am. She needs me right now. Why must I always be so weak—?
The boy's thoughts were suddenly derailed at the sound of a knock on the door. His father—a man of average height, who wore glasses, and was blond-haired and blue-eyed just like his son, stepped inside. Behind him, there was another man, a bit taller, darker haired and also wearing glasses.
"Frieda, Armin," Armin's father greeted both his wife and son, "I've found a man who might be able to help."
"Hello, Mrs Arlert." the taller man's eyes rested on the women in bed and then moved to the boy next to her, "Armin," he smiled, "I am Dr Grisha Yeager. It's nice to meet you." He approached the red-haired woman and held out his hand, she took hold of it.
"Doctor." her accent was heavy and she clasped his hand tightly, desperately, almost as if the man was her last hope. Dr Yeager then turned to Armin who was still in the seat beside the bed.
Armin quickly stood, "Pleasure to meet you, sir." he held out his hand and Grisha Yeager shook it.
"You too, Armin." He smiled kindly, the doctor then placed his large medical bag on the seat Armin had been sitting on and spoke again, "Right now, let's see what I can do for you, Mrs Arlert."
In order for Armin's mother to understand what the doctor had said, his father quickly translated from English to German. Armin decided to leave the room, thinking it was best that his parents and the doctor had some privacy. He felt his father give him a gentle pat on the shoulder on the way out, and the boy only turned back to give him a smile. Armin could now only hope and pray that this doctor would be able to help his mother.
As he neared the bottom of the stairs, he heard movement coming from the kitchen. Concluding that his grandfather must have returned from the library, he rushed to tell him the news.
"Grandpa I—"Armin began, but suddenly stopped, realising that the person in the kitchen was most definitely not his grandfather, "Oh". A boy slightly taller than himself, with dark brown hair turned around. His eyes were a unique turquoise and his facial expression looked surprised and awkward, he obviously felt equally uncomfortable about the other's presence, "Sorry but, w-who are you?" Armin asked, suddenly flustered. He was not expecting a stranger to be standing in his kitchen to say the least.
"Uh, hello," The brunet boy spoke, "I'm sorry…uh, your father told me I could help myself to something to eat or drink." He walked towards Armin and held out a hand, "I'm Eren Yeager, Dr Yeager's son."
Armin nodded slowly, allowing everything to sink in and then returned the gesture. He figured his father must have forgotten to mention that Dr Yeager had a son. "I'm Armin Arlert." He replied, smiling softly at the boy.
"I'm…really sorry about your mother," Eren turned his head slightly to the side, once again feeling awkward. Armin just shook his head.
"M-may I ask why you came along with your father?"
"Oh, well, my mum is busy. She told my father to keep an eye on me, but he got an urgent call and so I had to come with him."
"I understand. It's just unusual for a doctor to bring someone other than a nurse." Armin let out an awkward laugh.
"How many doctors have visited so far?" Eren questioned.
"Um, well, let's see…uh," Armin had to make a mental count of how many had come by the house before, "Around seven or eight."
"Don't worry. My father is best in town, I'm sure he'll be able to help." Eren grinned confidently.
"I really hope so!" Armin smiled, truly hopeful for the first time in a long time.
"Where are you from? Your accent is not from around here." Eren suddenly asked, picking up on it.
"Bavaria, Germany. A small town called Rothenburg ob der Tauber, actually." Armin said proudly, though he doubted Eren had heard of it.
"Germany? My father's roots lie in Germany and Russia." Eren stated, "My last name is German in origin. You probably noticed."
Armin nodded while smiling, "It means hunter."
"Yeah!" Eren beamed, "So, tell me Armin. Why did you and your family decide to move to London?"
"Um, well, it's a long story." Armin looked down and shuffled his feet.
"Well, it's not like I'm going anywhere just yet." Eren encouraged, taking a seat at the kitchen table.
"T-true" Armin smiled, feeling happy that the boy was actually interested, after all, most people weren't. The blond joined Eren at the table taking a seat opposite, "My grandfather, my mother's father, is Jewish. A-and well, it's just that Germany is not exactly a safe place for J-Jews right now. W-well, it hasn't been a safe place for a long time, ever since Hitler declared himself Führer. So, before it got worse, last year, my parents decided to leave with my grandpa. I-I was once even threatened, b-but I would rather not talk about that." Armin felt himself become nervous at the memory, and he felt his stomach and heart twist painfully.
Eren frowned, "I don't quite understand" he admitted.
"Do you not know?" Eren shook his head and Armin was surprised by the boy's ignorance, but he quickly realised that he was being unreasonable for expecting Eren to know anything.
How would he know? It's only the people living in Germany that know of this, the rest of the world is oblivious to the true nature of the man who rules over my homeland. If not oblivious, they sure do not want any involvement.
"I heard the news on the wireless that Hitler has already taken Austria. Every European power has turned a blind eye, and there is no doubt he'll take over another country in the near future. He already has his mind set on Czechoslovakia, from what I've read and heard." Armin tried hard but couldn't hide his anger, it was because of Hitler that he and his family were forced to leave everything behind. Eren just blinked, not knowing what to say. "I really think there is going to be a war soon." Armin was once again looking down, fear consuming his heart.
"W-war?" Eren choked out, completely stumped.
Armin nodded, "I hope not, but I have a horrible feeling about it…if he is not stopped…"
The darker haired boy only swallowed, once again lost for words. Silence followed.
"…I don't think there will be another war. Not after the Great War." Eren finally said, nodding his head, fully confident in the conclusion he had drawn.
"How can you be so sure?" Armin questioned, feeling sceptical but not wanting to refute what Eren was saying.
"I know it was before we were born, but your parents will remember the Great War, like mine do. Just ask them and they'll tell you that there won't be another war. Not in our life time, that's for sure."
"I know how terrible it was. My grandpa was a soldier in the war and he told me about it. But, this time, if there's a war…it will be different."
"How?" Armin could hear the irritation in Eren's voice and cringed slightly. He had not wanted to argue.
"The world has c-changed since then."
"It was just over twenty years ago, I doubt the world has changed that much."
Not wanting to argue anymore with the boy, Armin just nodded, "I s-suppose you're right."
"You shouldn't worry about that type of thing." Eren added.
"Y-yeah."
How can I not worry when the girl I love would be in the middle of it all if something like that was to happen?
"Where do you go to school? And, how old are you?" Eren suddenly asked, which snapped Armin away from his thoughts.
"Oh um, I just turned twelve in November and I go to the school just slightly down the road, opposite the big park."
"I go to that school too! Why have I never seen you before?" Armin shrugged, but smiled. "I'll be twelve in March, by the way." Eren added.
"Now that I think about it…you do seem familiar. B-but our school is very large, much larger than my old one in Germany which was actually very small. I've noticed how there are several classes for each age group alone, each one set according to ability—"
"I know." Eren quickly muttered, silencing the blond boy before he could finish his sentence. Eren's cheeks had flushed red, he seemed embarrassed or even angry, and Armin couldn't tell which of the two emotions he felt more strongly. The dark haired boy looked up at Armin, and noticed the surprised look on his face, "I'm not that smart." he added quietly.
"I would never judge you, or anyone, for something like that." Armin quickly assured.
"I'm in the lowest class…I also don't have a lot of friends…" Eren looked down again, eyebrows brought together in a frown and cheeks still red.
"I d-don't really have any friends either." Armin decided against mentioning that he was in the top class. He knew Eren would feel insecure knowing that little detail.
"Well, you have me…If you want." The boy still looked vaguely embarrassed, but there was a friendly, eagerness in his eyes.
Armin nodded and a huge smile formed on his face, "Yeah, I'd like that."
