Disclaimer: I do not own Gate: Jieitai Kano Chi nite, Kaku Tatakaeri while Shingeki no Kyojin is the property of Hajime Isayama, I only own the OCs I create. Please enjoy reading this story.
And Thank you
"Hi!"=Yelling/Title
"Hi"= Speaking
'Hi'=Thinking
"Hi" = Flashback
'Hi'= Flashback thinking
Hi=Intro
"Hi!"= Flashback Yelling
Sincerely,
Jackie Robinson
Chapter 9
February 28th, AOT Universe, Eldian Military Training Camp 13
For many the month of February is one which carries a mix of emotions ranging from the bitterness of winter, to the love of Valentines day, to the hope of a much warmer & more inviting spring. It's for this reason that the month of February has been blessed with so many different, and often conflicting titles throughout its existence as the second month in our twelve month calendar
. The younger brother of January, the shortest month of the year, the month of love, and the month which proceeds spring being but a few of them; but regardless a firm fact which is known is that with few exceptions the end of the month of February is universally the beginning of the end of winter's tyranny. Unfortunately, for the fighting soldiers of the 104th Cadet volunteer infantry Corps, also known as the 1st Eldian Legion, and all those who'd been tasked with training them the month of February was not destined to be so kind. Starting from the beginning of December, with the exception of only a few days, the Legion and the instructors training it were exposed to the full might of the region's winter weather patters.
This brutal winter had begun with a snow storm that buried the tiny training camp in several feet of snow on its first night and sadly had continued to do so non-stop for the rest of the week. The result was that, unsurprisingly, most of the military training exercises which had been planned ahead of time, were now instead going to be altered to fit the weather patters; a fact that ultimately meant that the instructors had begun to enter into the darker part of their regimens. That being, the sections dedicated to teaching their students how to survive alone if ever they found themselves in a sticky situation. However, the only thing more surprising than the intensity of winter season was how incredibly perfect the camp had proven to be as a winter training ground. While it was common knowledge to many of the officers that the camp was able to have a wide variety of uses its level of dexterity was not exactly known about the effect winter would have on it.
As such in the nearly three months that had passed since the first snowflakes had begun to fall many of these aforementioned exercises had taken place. It was during one of these exercises that Cesar Tehrani found himself sitting in a small hut at one of the many rendezvous points that littered the pre-purposed training route. Looking down at a small map Cesar couldn't help but take a sip from the small mug of coffee which was placed next to the map before returning his gaze up towards one of the hut's windows.
While he had initially he had opposed the plan for his previously separate unit to merge with the infantry units for this winter training section, the sight of the violent storm in front of him demonstrated the fact that it was possible that the move wasn't so bad after all. Still, there was a good deal of room left for improvement and with that in mind he couldn't help but let his gaze fall upon the letter that sat on his desk. A dispatch sent to every single one of the training commanders throughout the entirety of the unit, the letter had been stamped with the statement "Urgent! Open at the soonest possible moment and deep down Cesar couldn't help but know that the statement was indeed true. However, despite this he personally couldn't find the necessary gumption to go ahead and open the letter. Especially with his trainees stuck in the current winter situation trudging through the snow.
Taking one last glance towards the window, and accepting that glances like it would do nothing to speed up the unit's arrival, he proceeded to sit down and us his finger to tear open the top of envelope before withdrawing the letter and beginning to read.
Deep in the depths of the depressing, dark forest that group of merged training units in question could be seen slowly trudging through the snow. The greatest indication of their gradual and heavily hampered movement being the distinct crunching sound of their boots moving across the ice. However, even if the unit had been cheerfully singing one of the many marching songs that had been drilled into them in order to help them keep step when on parade the chances of you being able to hear them would no doubt be rather slim. At least when one added in the fact that you'd have to try to distinguish the sound of their voices from that of the harsh, loud, angry wind as it whipped its way through the trees of the forest.
The tiny group in question was comprised of roughly 10 people, all of whom were wrapped in a several thick layers of brown clothing and coats that had been given to them curtesy of the Russian Army. If this were a scene from a film it would no doubt be from one of the many European military dramas about the harsh realities of military combat on the Eastern Front during the Second World War, and while the type of suffering might be similar to the soldiers in that theater the level was in some ways worse. It was this suffering, particularly the brutal nature of the cold, that caused one of the group's members, Franz Kefka, to lower the cloth which covered the front his mouth and nose so that he could relieve his nasal from the snot dripping from his nostrils.
'It's so annoying that inspire of the fact it's snowing I still have to blow my nose' Franz thought to himself as he wiped his face before returning the cloth to its previous place as he felt his nose beginning to go numb. Like most of the soldiers who'd joined his unit Franz did not in pursuit of revenge or glory, but rather a stable source of income to avoid being sucked down into the dregs of destitution and it was this matter of fact attitude that had propelled him to join the unit's flying corps when the opportunity was offered. If he was to face certain death whilst in the Survey Corps he might as well be useful, right?
"Hey Franz, I know you're our group's Tail End Charlie, but would you mind trying to keep up?" A loud, and more than slightly irritated voice called causing Franz to turn and find himself facing in the direction of a blond haired, blue eyed, girl.
"Sorry Annie, I was just thinking" Franz answered causing another one of his group with a feminine voice to chime in.
"If you think as slow as you walk then you'll be dead before you learn anything" which earned her a gentle shove from the figure next to her and a frown from Franz.
"Come on Ymir, that's not very nice" the other girl said in soft yet scolding tone indicative of more so how Ymir should have felt rather than how she did.
"Come on Christa, it's just a little fun" Ymir responded in her usual condescending manner that caused one of the other members of the group to pause and turn towards her.
"Oh, then I guess the drill sergeant was just 'having a little fun' when he made you do those 100 pushups every morning for 8 days in a row?" the boy asked, causing the look on Ymir's face to change from condescending to angry.
"You better shut you damn mouth Jean!" she thundered, earning a cheeky chuckle from one of the others and adding.
"That goes for you two Eren!" In all honesty it couldn't have been more than three seconds from the end of her declaration to when the sound stopped coming from the figure in question's mouth, an indication of the influence Ymir held even in a situation when her hands were metaphorically tied.
"We better keep moving" a quiet yet firm voice suggested with a softness that made the words seem to float through the air rather than carrying the authoritativeness that they truly possessed. If there was any concern as to the possibility of a brawl breaking out during this dire situation it suddenly fades away faster than the heat vapors of the cadet's breath against the brutal wind that caused everyone except Ymir and Mikasa to experience the occasional shiver make its way down their spine when the wind somehow managed to find a way through their many layers of winter clothing. Moving towards the individual at the front of the group, the only one who was gifted with a map as to the paths that had to be followed if there was any hope to make it through this intolerable exercise, Mikasa lowered the cloth over her mouth to speak.
"How is it Armin?" She asked, causing the individual to shift his head from focusing on the map to give a visible sigh to the fact that he acknowledged Mikasa's presence.
"Fine" Armine answered, desperately trying not to sound even half as cold as he really was,. The decision to focus on preventing himself from sounding physically weak caused his tone to instead yield the fact that he was feeling mentally labored about something, a reality which earned him more of Mikasa's attention.
"What's wrong?" she asked, causing Armin to almost instinctively look over his shoulder before returning his gaze to the map.
"It's nothing" he began before, feeling Mikasa's unyielding stare, electing to add.
"It's just that, I think...that, given, the conditions, the topographical land marks on the might be... useless" he answered, trying to do so in a way that would convey the potential seriousness of the situation they were slowly being pulled into without soliciting any unnecessary panic. While this strategy might've proved clever or useful on a different soldier it proved to have little effect on Mikasa. At least outwardly, as personally Armin didn't think that there was a man alive who could come anywhere near guessing the full range emotional complexities that were held within her subconscious.
"How about the roads?" she asked, in a hushed tone before once again glancing over her shoulder to the group.
"Perhaps, but the patrols will no doubt be there waiting for us so we should either look to move with caution or continue on our current path through the woods while making as well educated of guesses as we possibly can" Armin whispered back, causing Mikasa to respond with a nod before adding.
"Do what you think is right Armin" and turning to begin mingling with the group once again. Of all the things that Armin had been forced to begin doing since he'd joined up the most challenging of all was undoubtedly having to do what he thought was right. It wasn't that Armin was unable to form his own opinions, spending even 5 minutes in a basic conversation with him would almost instantly disprove that theory, it was more so that he was rather silent by nature. However, unlike Mikasa this silence was not made up for by simply and brutally honest language or an aura that could exude hostility at levels that would intimidate many of those who opposed her. Rather it manifested in the development of a timid child who, in exchange for being considerate to others, often was willing to sacrifice what he thought or knew was the right course of action in any given scenario. So one could imagine his surprise when he received the news of his appointment to the rank of sergeant, with the possibility of further rapid advancement if he should prove capable in the position.
"If you don't mind sir, may I ask 'why'?" he'd inquired moments after the notices for rank advancements had been posted outside of the mess hall for all of the recruits to see. The officer in question, an old lieutenant by the name of Giovanni Sarkozy who sported a mustache that was as dark as ebony and as curly as they came, proceeded to let out what seemed like a sigh that was both annoyed as well as disappointed upon hearing the boy's declaration.
"Cadet, have you by any chance seen the scores that you've managed to obtain on the majority of the courses that we've put you on over the course of the past few months?" Sarkozy had asked, causing Armin to begin to mentally sweat. Sure he'd glanced at the first few tests, but as time had gone on he'd found it harder and harder to focus on anything other than the mistakes he'd made whilst also being able to comply the current training schedule. A fact that meant that he was by no means receiving the full picture of his abilities.
"N-Not really sir" Armin had answered with a slight tone of shame in his voice as he did so.
"According to those scores you have managed to demonstrate an incredibly large amount of skill for an individual of your age given the lack of formal education that you've been allotted you" the lieutenant began, causing Armin to begin to feel a slight rising his ever low self-esteem.
"However, in spite of these abilities there is one thing that most of the instructors here have noticed that you lack; that being a badly needed amount of self-confidence" the lieutenant added causing the ever familiar feeling of dread to suddenly appear in Armin's gut. Causing his to begin to visibly tense up at what at the time had looked to begin the beginning of one of the many tongue lashings that Armin, and so many of his fellow cadets, had been exposed to during the majority of their training. However, if that was what he had been expecting what he received was something completely different.
"As such the majority of the instructors here felt as though this would be a good way to increase that confidence in a controlled environment before you end up on the front lines,and I must say that while I do not think that this is the best way to do such a thing, I personally believe that the goal is indeed one to strive for" he'd seemed to finish before proceeding to add, much to Armin's surprise.
"and honestly Sergeant if I were you I'd seize the opportunity and see what I could do"
Honestly, things hadn't really changed that much for Armin. Well, except for the fact that all of the friends that he had previously been able to speak casually with were now required to address him as either "sergeant" or "sir" to which he would almost always have to reply with "at ease". A minor detail which made these previously entirely uninteresting conversations suddenly a little more awkward than they should have been. However, like so many other things that they'd been forced to endure, the group had managed to eventually adapt to the new situation they found themselves in and it was in the memory of this that Armin was currently racking his brain as he analyzed the situation. A situation which would result in them either continue blindly trudging through the snow based on an estimated path of trajectory derived from landmarks on a map or risk "capture" in this training scenario to follow the road to the checkpoint that would mark the end of the training session.
'So many choices' Armin sarcastically thought to himself before shifting his gaze up from the map again to examine his surrounding for the umpteenth time.
"Sergeant" a voice called, causing Armin to suddenly turn around and find himself staring nearly face to face with Eren who was standing in a respectful, and slightly pained pose with a shaky salute. Of all the individuals in their tiny group who'd had to get used to the idea of Armin their superior in rank instead of equal Eren had somehow managed to do it the fastest. While there were a plethora of possible reasons the most likely, that meaning that the one Armin personally hoped was the most rue, was that this new adoption of duty was based out of their friendship and the fact that Eren respected him. Regardless, it would be nothing short of a poorly fabricated lie to say that Eren, and therefore by default Mikasa, were willing to help him in terms of securing some level of discipline in the enforcing of his orders. In other words if he was their squad's brain, they were its spine.
"At ease Eren, what is it?" Armin asked, causing Eren to lower his salute. That had been another thing to be altered by their instructors, the unit's salute. Instead of performing the traditional salute that the rest of the Eldian military was known far, the clenching of one's hands into fists before placing one fist on one's chest and the other behind one's back, they were given a new one. Needless to say that when the cadets had first been instructed on the manner in which the salute was conducted they, including Armin, had all felt a little bit...silly. After all who simply uses one arm and flat hand in a sight of loyalty or respect? How could the officers instructing them keep such a straight, dare he even say tense, face when doing it? But as all things in the military after enough practice, and punitive push-ups, the units had managed to get the relatively simple gesture down.
"Do you know when we'll be moving out again?" he asked, causing Armin to feel his gaze slowly begin to drift towards the map before swiftly returning back to Eren.
"Yes, in a few minutes" he began before shifting the pack on his shoulder and adding.
"Tell everyone that we'll be making our way towards the main path, but to stay hidden in the tree line so that when we reach it we can follow it without being detected".
"Sure thing" Eren declared back and began to run back towards the group before turning around and briefly adding.
"Sir" to which Armin simply saluted. Once Eren had gone from sight Eren proceeded to let out a silent sigh as he turned his attention back to the map in front of him, giving it one last self reassuring look before stuffing it into his pack and preparing to move out with his small unit. Hoping that he'd made the right decision.
February 28th, AOT Universe, Eldian Military Training Camp 13 (1 Hour Later)
Cesar couldn't help but gently place the letter down as he finished reading it for what must've been the twelfth time, finding it's contents just as surprising this time as when he had first read it. This must've been some sort of sick joke. Some mistake. Or at least that had been what Cesar had thought when he'd finished reading the letter for the first time. A feeling which had only slightly decreased on his second reading which had caused him to read it again, and again, and again studying every single word, sentence, and paragraph each time that he did. Before he knew it he was in his current position, the truth having by now fully sunk into his brain.
'Spring' he thought to himself before he cast his eyes back to the window of the rendezvous shack and took a deep breath. Boy, how he wished Joseph was with him right now. Maybe then he could convince him to give him a cigarette, you know just to find out what it was really like to smoke one so that he might've been able to create an allusion of calmness in doing so. But of course that was one might get addicted, right? Hooked on the illusion and then pursuing any means to reach the same intensity of your original illusion. An intensity that could never be reached, laying the grounds for a craving that could never be satisfied.
"Spring" Cesar muttered, before leaning back in his chair. Spring, late spring to be exact, was when the Legion was to be put into the field. Their capacity would be limited at first, but would gradually grow with the intention of eventually having them be fit to the point where they could manage themselves. In other words in a little over 2 full months this unit was going to be in the field as per the orders from head quarters, whether they were ready or not. Cesar most likely would've most likely continued to sit as he now was, silent with leaning forwards in his chair with his hands firmly clasped together, if the door hadn't suddenly swung open allowing a burst of frigidly cold air in.
"Sir!" a voice shouted, causing Cesar to realize the door's opening was not the doing of a faulty hinge, but rather a soldier and as such he rose from his position to meet him.
"What is it private?" Cesar asked, to which the soldier proceeded to salute before responding with.
"Team 4 has just entered into the camp with all of their members accounted for" the soldier declared causing Cesar to pause before casting his gaze at the letter.
"Thank you for the news private, see to it that they are given warm food a fresh clothing and good sleep" Cesar began before adding.
"and private make sure to securely close that door behind you" hearing this the soldier proceed to give an affirmative salute before declaring "yes sir" and leaving the shack. Rising from his seat and donning his thick woolen jacket Cesar cast another glance back at the envelope in question. Spring, sure he could do it. The troops would hate him, his friend would never forgive him, and he might never be able to live with himself. But sure, spring would do fine. After all wasn't that the trade mark of anyone who was a soldier of the French Foreign Legion? Unflinching adaptability to any and all problems thrown at them or die trying. This train of though caused him to almost flinch.
Dying. What did he know of death? Other than how to inflict its visitation on another human being, what did he know. Not enough obviously, because if he did he might be so casual about saying or thinking it in a sentence like that. Regardless as to what eh currently knew about death he could guarantee one thing for sure; and that was that within three months he would probably know a heck of a lot more. With this he quietly zipped up his coat, grabbed the letter, opened the door, and headed outside. There was some news he had to deliver to the his unit. To his team.