End of week two, beginning of week three: the cadets were still making their way to the training grounds bright and early. Some of the cadets weren't even attempting to do their drills, the ones that did so were sluggish and pathetic, and Dante had to send a handful of dropout cadets to do field work earlier that morning.
Sitting in the shade of a tree, arms crossed, Dante gazed out at the crowd of cadets, the space filled with the sound of exhaustion. It was hot, more so than the day before. Sweat gathered on her brow and began to bead, falling from her temple and journeying along the contours of her face, down the skin of her neck before finally gathering at her collarbone. Almost unconsciously, she swiped the back of her hand against her chin; her skin was damp and sticky. Crinkling her nose, she sniffed; the air around was heavy with the odor of sweat, the taste of salt on her tongue just as unpleasant. Many times she contemplated cutting them slack, but then they would never learn. It would be far better for them to go through this small trial in order to survive later. At least, that's what she reasoned with herself.
Some cadets continued to train despite it all. Of course, among them was cadet Jaeger. Arms up, knees bent and feet shoulder width apart, Eren stared down his opponent while getting ready to lunge. His opponent, cadet Leonhardt, stood with arms up in defense and one leg slightly arched, ready for a swift counter. Dante was well aware of an agreement between the two cadets in which Annie would train Eren. The agreement was arranged just a couple days ago.
Eren stalked around Annie, circling slowly, one foot swinging behind the other as he searched for her blind spot. He struggled, she was diligent; her eyes followed his every move while he found no opening. Her stance was strong and steady, so still it looked as though she wasn't breathing. They paid no mind to their surroundings, yet they were also painfully aware.
She took a breath.
Eren charged.
It happened quickly; palm bracing the wooden dagger, he thrusted low. In response, she pivoted on her heel so fast the move seemed as natural as leaves flowing with the wind. She dodged the trust narrowly, swinging her other leg to aim her knee at his back.
He ducked.
It was a dance; it was survival. They were like two predators fighting for food. Annie was a tiger: swift, powerful, yet patient. Eren was a wolf: tenacious, hungry, and bloodthirsty.
Eren abandoned the dagger, twisting his body and moving his arm to loop around Annie's waist.
She had him.
Swooping her leg low and grabbing his collar, Annie flipped Eren to the ground in the blink of an eye.
Dante was impressed. In a short amount of time, Eren had improved drastically. Before instructing the cadets, when Dante read his file, she took note that it was likely he would rise in the ranks and it seems that prediction was coming to fruition.
As she observed, it looked as though Annie was explaining something to Eren, the latter looking amazed all the while. However, the moment was cut short when suddenly cadet Braun (quite literally) flew into the scene. Annie moved away quickly, but Eren was not so lucky, Reiner falling directly onto him.
Reiner, looking dazed, rolled over and sat up, leaning on him arm for support. Eren, looking winded, looked at the looming figuring that approached. Annie, looking cooly passive, peered over her shoulder at the intruder.
Dante observed with interest as cadet Ackerman approached and stood over them, face darkened with jealousy. All of the other cadets stopped to look on, curious to see how the events would unfold.
"Hey Annie," it was so quiet, Mikasa's low voice carried over the whole of the training grounds. "Why don't you teach those moves to me as well?"
Annie was silent for many seconds. "I wonder about that," Dante couldn't pick up the tone in her voice; she was guarded, "these moves were intended for humans. I really don't think someone like you needs them."
The tension in the air was thick, like a thick blanket had fallen onto the field. It was as if she could feel the heat in their eyes from her position on the ground, under the shade of a nearby tree.
"But I'm curious if they work on a beast."
Dante stood, eyes alight with interest. All of the other cadets were already putting in their bets on who would win. They chattered among each other, their voices merging together in an excited buzz; the votes were equal among them. Crossing her arms across her chest, Dante looked on, eager to see how this would unfold. Who would charge first? Who would take the lead? Who would prevail? Who would win?
This was a battle no one thought would ever happen, yet it was a battle everyone dreamed of. Two forces, each so strong in their own right, yet so different it was impossible to know who would win against the other unless they both duked it out.
As far as rank was concerned, Mikasa was superior. She excelled in every aspect of training, with such natural talent it was almost frightening. Annie, on the other hand, was guarded and kept to herself. She had secrets, that much was clear, but just how much she was holding back, Dante couldn't tell. If Annie was a tiger, then Mikasa was a dragon; both forces to be reckoned with. Still, she wanted to see this outcome. The outcome of this little strife could potentially change the whole dynamic of the 104th trainee squadron.
Reluctantly, Dante edged forward; as much as she wanted to watch this showdown, it was not in the trainee's best interest. It would potentially change the whole dynamic, yes, but whether for better or for worse… Dante was not willing to put such a possibility in the hands of two cadets duking it out over a hot-headed boy.
"Alright, break it up!" Dante clapped her hands as she broke through the crowd.
Mikasa and Annie stared at each other for many long seconds, holding each other's gaze as though they could kill each other with that alone. Soon, they backed down. All of the other cadets, however, groaned in disappointment when their anticipated entertainment was interrupted.
"No griping!" She barked, a frown quickly finding its way onto the features of her face. "None of you have the luxury to slack off! Not unless one of you can tell me how you can defeat something that's bigger than you?"
"This is stupid!"
With a slow and soft sigh, Dante turned her gaze to the only loudmouthed cadet that always managed to have something to say, Jean. She looked at him with a mildly annoyed expression while his own reflected the same kind of agitation.
"We all know you're talking about the titans! There's just no way we can take on something that big with hand to hand combat!"
At that, all of the other cadets began to whisper among themselves, suddenly finding the courage to speak what's been buzzing through their mind. But Dante was silent. She remained silent for many seconds and soon all the cadets joined, questioning her with their eyes. The expression on her face was hard and unyielding, contemplating, and beneath it all was subtle traces of understanding.
"Alright cadets, gather around; I've got a story to tell." The cadets stood with a dumb look in their eyes. "I don't have all day. Move it!"
Quickly, the cadets gathered around, forming a circle around her, just close enough to hear.
"I know it's frustrating," all of the cadets were caught off guard; her voice was much softer than usual. "Only a small portion of you have actually seen a titan, but even so, all of you are smart enough to know that, logically, hand to hand combat can do little against them."
They listened carefully.
"Well, what the hell does that matter?" Dante's voice carried a soft hiss to her words, a dare to challenge her words. "Your top priority, above all else, is to survive, and it is my job to help prepare you for that!"
Some leaned in with interest.
"There once was a man that snuck beyond the walls… He'd never seen a titan before and wanted to see with his own eyes these monsters humanity feared. So he stowed away in a supply carriage of the Scout Regiment and went beyond the wall. Mind you, this was before ODM gear had even been invented. Anyone care to guess what happened to him?"
All remained silent.
"A titan came; he had only a small dagger to protect himself. When the titan reached out and had him in its grasp, just as he was about to be eaten, the man used that dagger to escape. Jumping on the back of a scout's horse, he returned to inside Wall Maria and lived."
Dante looked around at the, usually bustling, quiet cadets. They all seemed deeply intrigued by her tale as they all began to process her words.
"My point is this: you never know what predicament you might get into. For those of you going to the Scout Regiment, any knowledge and skills that may help you survive is essential. For those of you planning to join the Garrison, Wall Maria has fallen, how do you plan to protect the other walls? And those heading to the Military Police, these walls will not hold forever. When they fall, what will you do?"
Almost simultaneously, many of the cadets bowed their heads, a near hopeless look passing onto the features of their face. Even the hot tempered, rebellious, chatty cadets kept silent.
A soft sigh left Dante's lips. "Early dismissal, cadets. You get the rest of the day off."
…
Marco stood under a scattered cascade of water, head partially bowed to keep the droplets from getting into his eyes. Drops of water landed onto his hair, sliding onto his temple and journeying along the outline of his freckled cheeks. It was late afternoon, on the cusp of twilight, and the cadets had been given the rest of the day off. With how for that past two weeks their training consisted of long hours of training and short hours of sleep, many of the cadets had began to treasure rest over hygiene. That being said, with this new day off, the cadets happily used the time to shower and sleep. Marco was among the last group to step into the shower. The water was cold and sent an uncomfortable chill down his spine, but he paid no mind. Dante's tale played in his ears like a broken record.
These walls will not hold forever. When they fall what will you do?
He had always had a goal in mind: to change the dynamic of the Military Police, but what will he do if things don't go as planned? It was something he'd never really thought of, honestly.
He heaved a frustrated sigh, turning off the cold water before running a hand through his drenched hair. Wrapping a towel around his waist, Marco stepped out of the shower, goosebumps rising on his skin at the rough touch of cool air that assaulted him. The washroom was empty with the exception of him; he was alone. He hadn't realized that he'd stayed in the shower so long, lost in his thoughts. Though, he was still lost. The silence of the washroom was so loud it seemed to screech in his ears, but he found escape in his thoughts, so in his thoughts he stayed.
He wanted to be stronger.
It repeated in his head like a mantra, over and over until the words blended together to become a distinct feeling; a desire, a craving. An instinct so prevalent in him it was almost addictive. Stronger was a necessity for his goals. It was an echo that whispered to him; stronger, stronger, stronger.
Marco rubbed his hand over his face, trying to chase the thoughts away. He needed a distraction from his thoughts; they were screaming at him, now. The silence made it louder. But they completed with each other. Everything seemed so loud he could feel his head about to split open, a headache quickly forming.
He needed to become stronger.
…
Dante looked up from her pile of documents at the sound of a knock on her door. Briefly glancing out the window, she saw it was close to the head of night. All of the cadets should be sound asleep by now.
The knock sounded again.
Curious, Dante removed her person from her desk, and slowly crossed the small expanse of her room, toward the door. Her hand reached for the doorknob, fingers clenching and unclenching all the while. Naturally, her guard was up, mind unconsciously thinking of negative outcomes. Who was on the other side of the door? What was their intent?
The knock sounded again.
Reluctantly, Dante jerked the door open, surprise jumping in her chest at the sight before her.
"You wear glasses?"
"What do you want, Bott?"
Dante peered up at the cadet from over the rim of the glasses that rested on the bridge of her nose. His stance was stiff and awkward as he stood before her in his sleepwear. He must've just stepped out of the shower not long ago, she noted; the ends of his hair were still dripping wet.
"I didn't know you wore glasses…" Marco coyly rubbed the back of his head, with drawing his hand immediately once he was reminded of the state of his hair.
She let out a long sigh, turning her back to him to return to her desk. On the way, she grabbed a towel off a nearby chair and tossed it to him.
"Dry your hair. You're getting my floor wet."
An embarrassed look crossed the features of his face as he caught the towel and proceeded to dry his hair. Dante sat at her desk, crossing one leg on the chair and the other lifted to be used as a rest for her arm. She leaned back against her chair and lifted the documents she'd been reading before while lifting a quaint mug of coffee up to her lips.
There was a silence between them, the only sounds echoing through the room being the sounds of pages turning, the shuffling of documents, and the soft clank of a mug being placed on the wood of a desk. Marco gazed at her as she worked, hands slowly going still as the towel had soaked up as much water as it could. She worked diligently, it seemed, but one glance at the stack of papers told him she'd probably just put it off til the last minute.
Dante seemed overly aware of his presence, he noted. Her movements looked fluid, yet also calculated. Every time she lifted her mug to her lips her arm moved almost mechanically, as if planned far in advance. Her eyes would scan down the document in her hands only to inevitably go back to the top to read again, doing so several times before finally moving onto the next document. He doubted she was really paying any attention to those documents.
"Do you need something, cadet?" She said finally, setting the papers down with a defeated huff, completely disregarding them. Now, she focused only on reclining in her chair while sipping at her coffee, which seemed to almost be finished.
Marco stayed silent for several moments, thoughts running through his mind as he inwardly searched for the words to say. But she was patient. Dante gazed at him through her glasses, occasionally taking more sips of her less than lukewarm coffee. It was cool on her tongue and down her throat, the bitterness urging her to rub her tongue against the roof of her mouth.
"Will you train me?"
"Huh?" The sound left her lips as if on instinct; she was clearly surprised. Her glasses slipped down the bridge of her nose and her mug was placed so close to her lips, waiting to be drank from. Dante was sure the look on her face was comical; her brows were raised in such a way that made her surprise very apparent. "Why do you want me to train you?"
"I need to be stronger!"
"Why do you need to be stronger?"
Each question and answer was said immediately after the other, almost as though it had been rehearsed. By now, the coffee mug had been abandoned on the desk and Dante was leaning over it, hands pressed to the wood while her arms supported her weight. Her brows were furrowed as she tried to comprehend the sudden request.
"I… I want to join the Military Police… and change the way things are from the inside!"
The expression on Marco's face was one of determination. Dante's expression, however, changed from one of confusion to one of near exasperation. Heaving a sigh, she removed her glasses and rubbed her hand over her face, her thumb and forefinger massaging the bridge of her nose.
"Get out."
"Please!"
She looked at him through her long lashes. She could tell he was serious and that his reasons were genuine; she could see it in his eyes. They were determined, noble, and blissfully naive.
"Cadet, I'm going to ask you a serious question…" Circling around her desk, Dante approached, stopping only once she stood in front of him, looking up at the slightly taller boy. "What is the true enemy of man?"
Marco opened his mouth to respond, the answer seeming painfully obvious, but stopped short. Right as the words were about to leave his mouth, his tongue felt heavy and a dull pain pressed on his chest.
"The titans are, of course." He forced his tongue to form those words.
No, that wasn't right. He could tell by the expression on Dante's face. Just moments before her expression was expecting and challenging, but now only disappointment remained.
"You're an idealistic fool." Pressing her hand against his chest, she urged him out the door. "Until you can find out a proper answer to that question, I don't want to hear another word of this foolish request of yours."
With that, she closed the door on him; firmly, but quietly.
