Right I'm starting this one by thanking Lyra Sprinkles for the lovely review. I'm really thankful for the support this story has gotten and I look forward to writing my furture plans and hearing back what you think!
Bertholdt sat in the dark twiddling his thumbs. He had been waiting for over twenty minutes and he was beginning to wonder if Annie was even going to show up. The had long since set and the only light in the park came from the scattered lamps.
"It's coming up to half past…" Bertholdt sighed looking down at his phone. "Maybe I should just go home." He had texted Annie several times since arriving at the park but he hadn't received a single reply. After eventually deciding that Annie was a no show Bertholdt stood from the bench and stuffed his phone back into his pocket.
As he started walking down the path a voice called out from behind him. "Hey, where are you going?" Bertholdt turned to see Annie slowly walking towards him.
"I didn't think you were coming." Bertholdt mumbled.
Checking her watch Annie sighed. "Well I was late."
"Did you not check the messages I sent you?" Bertholdt asked as he approached her.
Annie shook her head and pulled out her pockets. "Because of my dad I don't have the luxury of a phone."
Bertholdt threw his head back and moaned. "I'm sorry, this is my faul-."
Annie raised her hand to stop him. "Don't care, I don't need a phone. I need you to learn how to fight."
"And that involves a park how?" Bertholdt asked with a raised eyebrow.
"Because this is where we're going to train. You can't come over except to fight," She explained. "If by some miracle you win then you can train in the gym. I talked with dad about it."
Looking down at the figure in front of him and narrowed his eyes. "If I win? Do you think I can win?"
"I'm teaching you aren't I?" Annie said with the slightest pricks of a smirk on her lips. "Speaking of which, get in the stance."
Bertholdt's eyes widened. "What? Like right now?"
"That's why we're here," Annie explained as she removed her coat and threw it onto the bench. Bertholdt rolled his eyes and folded his coat before bending his knees and raising his fists. "Good to see you remember the basics."
Without giving Bertholdt a chance to reply Annie swung her leg around in a tight, fast arc in hopes of catching him off guard. She did. Almost.
Her calf struck Bertholdt's ribs with enough force to drive most of the air out of his lungs and while enough to send rockets of pain across his chest Bertholdt quickly found his footing.
Digging into the dirt Bertholdt clasped Annie's calf, with every ounce of strength he could muster Bertholdt threw Annie's leg away causing her to stumble.
"You're almost there with the blocking, just got to work on your reactions." Annie huffed after regaining her balance.
"How do I do that then?" Bertholdt asked brushing the dirt from his shirt.
Annie smirked in the darkness before swinging her other leg around so quickly Bertholdt instinctively threw his arms up, completely exposing his sides. Annie's kick struck him so hard in the side Bertholdt buckled over coughing violently. "Practice."
Clutching his stomach Bertholdt slowly stood up and glared down at Annie. "A little warning next time would be nice."
"You think Jean is going to give you any warning?" Bertholdt balled his fists and shook his head. "Exactly, I'm teaching you how I was taught so get used to it."
As Bertholdt went through the motions of assuming the stance Annie had shown him and then promptly being sent into the dirt by a kick that appeared to move in a blur a question stuck in his mind. Only after being knocked down for what felt like the hundredth time did he finally ask.
"Annie, who taught you how to fight like this?"
For a moment Bertholdt considered apologizing, in the short time he had known Annie she didn't appear to be the most open person in the world so when she sat down on the bench Bertholdt was more than a little surprised.
"If I'm going to answer you," She started. "Then you're not going to interrupt and learn how to block properly. Got it?" Bertholdt nodded sharply. Taking a deep breath Annie ran her fingers through her golden hair before answering. "My dad taught me."
Bertholdt's eyes widened in horror. "You're dad taught you like this?" Annie shrugged and nodded. "That's-"
"That's how I learned how to fight," Annie snapped. "That is how I beat a woman taller and stronger than me. I turned Nanaba into a crying mess thanks to the way I was taught."
"But he's your dad. He shouldn't attack you." Bertholdt protested.
Annie rolled her eyes. "I asked him to teach me. I saw how strong he was and I wanted to become just as strong, and now I'm trying to make you a fraction as powerful."
"So you enjoy fighting?" Bertholdt asked cautiously.
After stretching her arms over her head Annie stood from the bench and made her way over to Bertholdt. "Yes, so if you would learn how to block it would make my day." Bertholdt gulped as he bent his knees and raised his fists. "We're not stopping until you block ten kicks in a row by the way."
"What!?" Bertholdt gawked as Annie's leg sent him crashing into the grass, as he pulled himself up from the ground Bertholdt swore he could see the outlines of a smile, not a smirk, a smile on Annie's lips however in the coldness and darkness that surrounded him he quickly dismissed the cheek reddening thoughts that had momentarily come to mind.
The following hours saw Bertholdt fall to the ground over and over again, yet despite the strength of Annie's strikes he found himself picking himself up to face her again and again. Eventually Bertholdt managed to block kick after kick and after stopping Annie's tenth kick he fell to his knees, lungs burning for oxygen as Annie crossed her arms and gave him a nod of approval.
"You know," Annie hummed as she stretched her arms above her head. "You might actually stand a chance against Jean."
Bertholdt's grey eyes light up at Annie compliment. "Really? You really think so?"
"I said might," Annie explained. "Jean is still a decent fighter. Just keep up the practice."
As he stood and brushed the dirt from his knees a thought burst into the front of Bertholdt's mind. There's no way… Should I even bother asking? "Um… Annie?"
"Yeah."
"What happens if I… win?" Bertholdt asked.
Annie folded her arms and hummed. "The fight in the other pool is Mike and Gelgar. So IF you win against Jean you'll probably go against Mike and that will be the end of you."
"What? Why?" Bertholdt asked as he started to feel worry creep into his chest.
"Mike is nearly 7 foot. He weighs so much that even I'd struggle to throw him and he's strong enough to toss a sack of flour over his head like it was a pillow," Annie scoffed. "He's a monster in the cage."
Bertholdt's jaw dropped as Annie described an opponent even she would find difficult to face. "B-but I thought Levi was the strongest."
Annie's brow creased at his remark. "He is. Levi could beat Mike any day. Mike maybe a monster but Levi is something else entirely."
"Could you beat Mike?"
Annie simply shrugged. "I've never fought him. I'd like to but I'll probably fight Levi this season."
Bertholdt scratched the back of his head. "Wait. How does the league work? I thought it was two. Men and Women."
"It is. Until the finals. Then it's the best female fighter against the best male."
"Isn't that unfair?"
Without realizing it Annie had balled her fists. "I don't know. Maybe a frail maiden like myself shouldn't be in the ring with big, strong men like yourself." She hissed.
Bertholdt quickly understood what Annie meant. "I'm sorry I didn't mean it like that! I just thought because Levi was so strong that no one could stop him. Not even you."
"That's how it's been. But this year I'm gonna put him in his place," Annie growled with a sharp smirk. "You, however, don't need to worry about that," Annie said as she gathered her things. "Go home and get some sleep. Tomorrow I'm gonna teach you some throws." After grabbing her coat Annie waved goodbye to Bertholdt and made her way back home through the park leaving Bertholdt alone.
During the walk home Bertholdt rolled his arms and soothed his bruises knowing that the next morning would be one he would be dreading.
