A/N: The story is very silly, and the majority of 'plot' is just making friends, relationships develop, "look-we-are-alive-sort-of-AU-thing". It trails the development of several relationships: AruAni, Springles, Rivetra (mostly pre-developed), Jeankasa(focus), Mobuhan (pre-developed). I'm sort of nervous about it, as it is the first time I'm writing many of these characters. I am not familiar with their characterisation, so please have patience and forgive me if it falls OOC. For those that still care to read, thank you for your consideration.
I would like to add as well, the story contains an OC: Lilia. (Levi and Petra's daughter). I wanted to write Rivetra children, and although she is not the focus point, she does make appearances. Simply because some are very against OCs in fanfiction, I wanted to mention it at the start. Again, thank you for reading this far and I hope the story isn't too awful. I may continue to post this, if any are interested.
"Hey! Jean! I heard you got sacked!"
"Did you really go looking for me just to tell me that, baldy? How'd you even know I went to school here?"
"I didn't. I just saw you and remembered that I noticed the Captain had sliced you clean through on the time sheet."
"Yeah. Thanks to you, Connie." He increases his pace, though his short comrade only matches him. "Uggggh... Alright, so who are you looking for?"
"Oh, uh..." A slightly nervous laugh. "Sasha. An old friend."
"Haaaah? Really? A girl?"
"It's not like that, man! I've just known her since like, forever."
"That doesn't help your case."
"Well- it's not like being head over heels for Mikasa just days in really helps yours!"
"Wha-?!" His displeasure is cut off mid-shout as the bell to signal the start of class resounds through the now near-empty corridor. "Fuck!"
"What's your name, you pigheaded, horse-faced, squalor loving, sack-of-shit?!" Sharp, militant words. Feels like work again.
Panting, he straightens himself. Great. Late to class. First day. This is going well. Additionally, his instructor, with eyes more sunken in than he thought imagineable looks and acts as if he's just crawled from the grave. "Jean Kirschtein."
"Well, would you kindly take your seat so we can get started with class, maggot?"
Someone laughs, thin orbs darting in the direction to find his gaze matched with Jaeger's of turquoise. Fuck. Electing to ignore Eren, he wonders why scary-Mc-Grave eyes asked him his fucking name if he wasn't going to use it, but imagines the answer he'd receive might only worsen his situation, so he opts to keep quiet on the matter. He sighs, tawny orbs scanning the room for a free desk. Well, this is going to be a pleasant final year to his high school career. Tch. He heads to the only open seat, a screech resounding about the room with the manner in which he so lazily scrapes the chair legs against the linoleum flooring. A plop. Turning to his left, he finds himself faced with the cool, charcoal gaze of the girl in the red scarf, which she wears even now, in mid-summer, atop their navy blue and white school uniform. His body breaks in cold sweat. Okay. Well, I mean—this is a good thing, right? Deskmates with the girl he likes… okay. Cool. Eren on his opposite side? Not as cool. Scary McGrave eyes—scary. Whatever whatever. He gets to sit next to Mikasa. Maybe he can like- talk to her later. Borrow a pencil or something, yeah. Even if they aren't co-workers, maybe he can get close to her this way.
His pensive, half-lidded stare-off into lala land whilst Mr. Shadis rambles about something violent in history during homeroom is interrupted by a thump against his sandy scalp. "Haaaaaah?" A pale, nasalised sound of surprise escapes his lips, turning back to find Connie diagonally behind him to the left. A wide, cheeky grin. A second eraser gripped in hand in case the first shot fired were to miss.
Tawny orbs roll to the ceiling as he faces forward in his seat anew. A paper lands on his desk, which he meets with an unenthused gaze. Haaaah? A pop quiz? On the first fucking day? And what's up with these questions? How many kilos of blood can one lose before passing out? What the fuck? How should he know? This is HOME ROOM. Not health class. Or some militant, rite of passage into seniorship.
"New guy."
"H-huh? E-eh? Yeah?" His heart flutters, turning to meet the porcelain face of his ex-co-worker.
"Do you have a pencil?"
"O-h!" He can feel his face aflame though the girl with the pretty hair doesn't seem to notice, her contours as cool and calm as ever. He shifts about in his empty desk and then rustles through his bag—paper. Paper. Paper. Eraser. Ruler. Eraser. Folder. Why the fuck didn't he bring anything to write with!?
Someone taps his shoulder and he about screams.
"Here."
His long face is matched with a much shorter one, with thick, blonde fringe and golden locks that reach his jaw line. A sky coloured gaze. A pencil in his outstretched hand.
He's the kind of kid Jean would normally pick on, maybe not directly, but at least make a mockery of amongst friends. Well, not Marco. No. Marco wouldn't stand for it. Either way, now, he… he's come to reconsider appearances. This kid's… more like one of those angels descending from the clouds in an old classical painting or something. A fairy godmother. A—whatever. Just someone really helpful.
"U-uh.. uh, yeah. Thanks." He nods, somewhat stupidly eagerly to which the blonde prodigy gives a gentle gesture in return. "Sure. I'm Armin."
"U—uh… yeah. Jean. Jean Kirschtein." Normally, he'd prefer to flash a smirk and boast in some way upon first encounters, but right now, he's so fucking jarred, his own name comes out in a stutter. His tiny eyes are wide with nervousness, an upturned sandy brow, an apparent crimson path from his high cheekbones to his ears, as he turns back to face his aforementioned, solemn Venus.
"H-here, Mik-Mikasa."
"Hn." She takes it flatly, a small hum from her throat in gratitude, though her face reveals nothing of the sort.
He shakily returns his gaze to the paper in front of him, realising he's just rendered himself incapable of taking the examination. Whatever, not like he could have answered any of the bloody questions anyway.
"Get in pairs, maggots!"
What the fuck is up with this guy? Is he fucking dreaming? Because no one aside from him seems all that bothered or confused or ANYTHING by their home room teacher's demeanour. Whatever. This'll be perfect. He –er—that Armin kid—lent her a pencil. He could like, ask for it back and also plug the whole, let's be partners thing. Yeah? Yeah. He turns to his left, a smirk already cemented to his contours.
"So uuuh- Mik-asa." Good going, dumbass – can't even say her name without fucking it up.
However, instead of her silky, charcoal gaze, his tawny eyes meet Eren's, whose face is plastered in the snottiest grin, his chair already pulled up to Mikasa's desk. "A—ah!" Jean turns toward the front of the room again, scoffing. Okay, so he won't ask for the pencil back.
"Where's your partner, maggot?"
Fuck. Marco isn't in his class. He could ask Connie… not that that seems all too pleasant. Darting his head to the aforementioned bald one, he notes he's… sitting with a girl? Fuck. Damn. Fuck. Is it that Sasha girl? Or just someone else? Tch, not like it matters. No way chrome dome would pick him over the ponytailed chick.
"Oh, uh, I'm his partner." The blonde with the bowl cut behind him speaks, raising a hand.
Shadis grunts some angry spew at them that surely involves small bugs before stomping away, undoubtedly to pester some other 'maggots'. Maybe Armin really is some sort of angel.
"Wow. He's uh… overexciteable, huh?" A sheepish tone to his voice.
Yes. He's certain now. An angel. The only other sane person in this room to recognise Shadis as a total freak.
"Yeah." A low laugh with a cautious brow. "So… uh… what are we doing?"
"Writing a presentation on someone who inspires us to not grow up to be worthless maggots." Laughs from the both of them. Yeah, this Armin kid really isn't so bad.
"Okay. So… for what reasons? Who do we choose?"
"I think we should choose a human rights activist or someone who's made exponential advances in the world of medicine."
He picked—okay, didn't exactly pick. Was given, more like. The. Best. Partner. He's smart—like, really smart.
"Yeah.. sure, okay… so who?"
"Time's up, maggots!"
The bell rings and people are out the door faster than Jean knew to be possible, which is interesting, considering his affliction for doing as little as required. He sighs, chair scraping the floor as he stands to leave for his next class.
"Hey, Jean. We have to present tomorrow. Do you—"
"New guy."
His face turns the colour of the speaker's scarf, his body stiffening from behind as he glances back to Armin who nods with a genuine smile, cerulean eyes bright and friendly. A hand raise in gesture of goodbye. "It's okay. We can talk later. See you, Jean." The aforementioned nods a tad nervously, turning to face Mikasa whilst thanking his new, unlikely friend for leaving to let him talk to the girl of his dreams.
"He-y, Mikasa."
"Hn." She touches the scarf at her face, pulling it up higher at the chin.
Huh? Glancing down, he sees her outstretched hand, balled as if to drop something. He places his own beneath hers, the pencil his guardian angel lent him falling against his calloused skin.
"Oh, s-sure." He doesn't even know what to say. Normally, he'd try and flirt, only to fail: flash a smirk and stutter her name or say something about her hair being pretty and shiny before adding something awkward like it being from her oils. So, for once, he tells himself the best thing to do… is turn and go. Yeah. Okay. Play it cool. He nods, speaking as he turns from her, holding his briefcase style bag over his shoulder with a few fingers. "See you, Mikasa."
"Wait."
H-huh? Did… he… did he hear that correctly? "Uh. Yeah. Oh yeah. Huh? What is it?" His speech grows far too rapid, clearly over-eager, though the solemn girl before him doesn't seem to read it as awkward in the least.
"Ms. Ral says you aren't fired."
"O-oh." Should he be happy about this? He never really liked the job—the whole like three days he worked there. Okay—penis cookies with Connie and freezing Eren's apron just before the Captain came in were pretty cool. And—well, working with Mikasa is like a dream come true but… damn, so much of it sucked. "Thanks for telling me."
"Ms. Ral says thank you."
"Haaah?"
"For the compliment you gave her."
His face is set aflame by her flat words. Do—does she know what he said? Really… Mikasa or Petra knowing would be bad, but—both? Both would be worse.
"Ah—a—" His stammers are ended prematurely by the voice of another.
"Come on, let's go, Mikasa."
"Ah, Eren."
The aforementioned touches the end of her raven locks as they head from his side, Jean- newly invisible to the girl with the crimson scarf. "You should cut your hair."
"Alright."
…
Yeah, he really hates Eren.
A/N: Thank you to all that have reviewed thus far; critique or positivity. Your words are invaluable.
