Chapter Fourteen: Humanity's Struggle
(Year 847)
Another year, another "humanitarian crisis." Gee, nothing's changed. You'd think by now that they'd have something better in place for taking care of the refugees. Dirk's eyes skimmed the lines of people coming to get their food rations. The teen had recently turned 16, triggering his father's attention to turn back to him. Rod had the brilliant idea that as a noble family, their children should be seen working in charity or humanitarian work once they had come of age. So, here he was, handing out food rations alongside Wall Worshippers and those there to keep the peace.
Of course, when Wall Worshippers were involved, peace was never really an option.
"This is but a taste of the wrathful vengeance of the Lord!" one of the priests shouted, his voice grating on everyone's eardrums. "Defiling the Walls will bring humanity to ruin and-."
"You're a fucking idiot," he muttered to himself, not realizing his voice carried.
"You dare to curse about our sacred Walls!?" The priest was enraged at the very thought.
"No, I curse your lack of basic intelligence," Dirk shot back without missing a beat. He was already gaining the attention of the locals, who were watching these two like a thrilling scene in a play.
"A curse upon you and your family! No good shall befall those who dare speak ill of the Walls!" the priest warned solemnly.
The teen raised his eyebrow at the man. "Um, I only bad-mouthed you, Priest. Are you feeling alright? Perhaps you need an escort to the Disabled Zone."
The priest's face turned a deep shade of purple as he seethed with indignation. "How dare you! I shall have you removed from the area at once! Where is your superior? I demand to speak to him right this very instant!"
"Whoops! The instant passed. Too late." Dirk cracked a grin. "But hey, you made yourself useful. You made these fine people laugh. Let's have a round of applause for Priest… I'm gonna call you Fred. Priest Fred, everybody!"
By this point, a large crowd had gathered around to listen to the banter between the teenager and the aged priest. The group roared with laughter at Dirk's quip about the instant, cheering and clapping for the newly dubbed "Priest Fred."
Said priest huffed and shook his staff at the teen. "You have no respect! None for your elders, none for the divine! I hope you burn in hell for your lack of proper respect."
"You want that respect, Fred?" Dirk shoved a basket of bread into his hand. "Shut up and start helping people like a real man. Oh, by the way..." He leaned in and whispered, "My name is Dirk Reiss."
The priest's countenance immediately changed, his face going from purple to ashen. "R-Reiss?" He gulped audibly. "My apologies, good sir. I take back everything that I said." He ducked his head and went around the corner with the basket, nearly running to flee from the crowd.
Contrary to his personality, Dirk wasn't a fan of dropping his last name as a way of getting what he wanted. However, the expression on the oaf's face was worth every second. He turned back to the crowd and they started going back to their business. He placed another basket of bread on the ground as he knelt in front of a blond, blue-eyed girl that seemed slightly older than Florian. "Hi, what's your name?" he greeted with his trademark grin.
"Annie," came the expressionless response. She opened her hand for the food he was holding. She didn't seem to be especially talkative.
"Name's Dirk," he said, giving her a small loaf of bread. "What, for your sick brother? Here, take another one." Dirk added another loaf to her collection.
Her eyes widened in slight surprise. "Thanks. It was pretty funny the way you put that idiot in his place," She looked up at him with a small smile that quickly faded back to her neutral expression. "I wish more people could make those windbags stop running their mouths."
Frieda, I've got a royal decree for you. Dirk thought as he chuckled. "Laughter takes away their power. The more people laugh, the less seriously others will take them." He playfully ruffled her hair. "Take care of yourself, okay?"
"Don't have much choice now, do I?" came the response before the short blond vanished into the crowds again.
As Dirk straightened, a voice hissed in his ear. "You can't keep giving the kids extra food. Every loaf you give away as extra is starving another person." Dirk's eyes met those of a Garrison Captain, the last name of Gabrela stitched across the front of his uniform.
The teen let out a sigh, staring at the other kids. "I can't help it, you know? I just want a chance to give them something to smile about."
Captain Gabrela gave a slight huff as he turned away. "I'll pretend that I didn't see anything. Just make sure that nobody else does either, or you'll be in for a harsher talking-to than this."
Dirk nodded before taking a leave from the area. It was best to distance himself before he inadvertently caused another food shortage. Unfortunately, wherever he walked, there was some sort of issue going on. Garrison soldiers complaining about giving up their food to the brats (their words, not his), other Wall Worshippers who thought preaching about the wrath of God was a brilliant idea, and more than a few scuffles over how much food someone could take. Fortunately, none of the fights escalated to the riot in Krolva a year ago… at least, not yet.
Even with twenty percent of population gone, this is still going on. Dirk thought grimly.
A harsh slap on the back knocked the thoughts out of him and nearly sent him stumbling. The teen spun around to see a blond-haired boy a couple years younger than him, though his build was unnaturally fit for a guy his age. How can a guy younger than me be taller than me?
"Nice job taking care of 'Fred,'" Blond Boy commented with a grin.
"Just doing my civic duty for the people," Dirk replied, shaking his hand. "Name's Dirk."
"Reiner. You seem like an alright guy."
"Great! Can you come over to my house and tell my family that?" Dirk requested jokingly.
Reiner laughed. "Name the time and place."
"Reiner, we should get going," a mild voice said behind him. It belonged to a black-haired individual that was taller than Reiner.
Reiner rolled his eyes, gesturing to the newcomer. "Nursemaid over here is Bertholdt. He worries too much."
Dirk just nodded, keeping his thoughts to himself. I'm always gonna be short, aren't I?
"See you around, kid," Blond Boy said as he departed.
That did it. "I'm older than you!" Dirk shouted, his face turning red with embarrassment and frustration. He threw his hands in frustration before heading back to the food stand. Much to his annoyance. Captain Gabriella, or whatever the hell his name was, repeated the same lecture: one loaf per person no matter what kind of sob story was given to him.
He lasted two minutes.
"Come on, Captain, she counts as two people," Dirk protested, indicating a very pregnant woman that was trying to get bread.
"And how do you know she didn't stuff a pillow down her shirt?" Gabby shot back, crossing his arms.
"I, uh…" Dirk didn't know how to answer that. She could be conning him for all he knew.
"Tell her to lift her shirt," the captain suggested seriously.
Dirk's eyes widened in horror, waving his hands back and forth quickly before the woman could call them perverts. "No, no, no, no, no, no, no! That will not be necessary!"
Said woman chuckled. "It's no trouble. This is my third child. I've nothing to hide." She lifted her tunic enough to show the captain and Dirk the swollen belly with a protruding belly button. "That satisfy you boys? Now if you don't mind hurrying this along, I've got two other hungry boys waiting at home for me."
The captain rolled his eyes in annoyance. "Just give her the damn bread, kid. And watch yourself."
The teen's eyes blinked several times at the strange sight in front of him. "That's a… big stomach." His voice was an octave higher than usual.
Gabby facepalmed, letting out a growl of frustration.
She laughed, covering her belly once more and outstretching her hand. "Won't be long now. You take care of yourself, young man," she said in a motherly tone.
"Yeah, uh, you too, lady," he replied, handing her the loaves of bread.
"You are testing the limits of my patience, kid," the unfriendly captain stated once the woman was gone. "You cause trouble one more time, and I don't care who you're the son of, I will kick your ass onto the street faster than you can blink." He gestured to the refugees. "You think any of them have time for your jester antics or you gawking at a pregnant broad? One loaf per person, or you're done!"
Dirk gulped audibly. Despite his stupid name, "Gabriel" could be intimidating when he wanted to be. He shook off the incident and came face-to-face with a green-eyed kid. "Hi, I'm-."
"No talking. Hand him the bread."
He sighed, giving the boy the loaf without another word.
"'Hi, I'm a spoiled brat from the Interior, and I don't give a shit about the refugees except how they make my family look better.'" The boy scowled at Dirk, snatching the bread from his hand.
"Hi, Spoiled Brat. I'm Dirk." He couldn't help it. He just couldn't help it.
A pair of arms on either side of the kid physically restrained him from taking a swing at Dirk. "Eren! Now is not the time for this. Just take the bread and we can go," the blond boy on his left pleaded.
Dirk, however, found his eyes locking onto the other child. There was something about her appearance that seemed familiar, but he couldn't place it. He shook it off and added two loaves to the pile. "I hope this is enough for you three."
Eren spat at his feet. "Noble pig. All of you are the same, faking compassion-"
"Yeah, yeah, yeah. I'm the spawn of the devil. Can you just take the damn bread?" Dirk asked, his own patience wearing thin. It was less about the kid's attitude and more on the fact he couldn't verbally roast him on the spot. Not to mention how two people in less than five minutes brought up his noble status, something he was desperately trying to hide.
"Eren, that's enough. Just take the bread, please," the raven-haired girl said gently.
"Mikasa, just look at him! He oozes of being a spoiled rich kid. Bet he's never tasted the agony of losing family to Titans. All you nobility are the same! Sacrifice the outer Walls to save your own fat, lazy asses! I hope you all burn!" Eren raged.
Dirk winced. He knew that disgusting tragedy Eren was referring to all too well. None of those people deserved to die like that. He felt sympathy for the kids and guilt from his status, how couldn't truly relate to them because of his bloodline. On the other hand, the kid was an asshole. So, he looked to his right and yelled, "Priest Fred, I found your long-lost son!"
Eren's eyes flew to the Wall Worshipper. "You dare compare me to that religious scum? I'll kill you myself!" Seeing red, he shook his arm free from the blond's grasp and punched Dirk in the face.
Dirk's head whipped backwards from the sudden blow before he brought it down. There was some blood on his lip now. His smile was frozen. "Feel better?"
An enraged roar was the only answer he got, the kid swinging at him again.
Dirk easily caught the swing and used the momentum to toss him into a nearby stack of empty baskets. "Word of advice: angry people are stupid people."
By this time, a crowd had gathered around the area yet again to watch the tousle between the two boys. There were some mixed claps and cheers in response to Dirk's advice.
Eren staggered to his feet, running at him with his fists raised, but at the last second, he swung his boot up and kicked the teen hard between his legs.
The teen's body seized, his eyes bulging out. The crowd, most of the men, grimaced at the low blow that was landed on him. Sinking to his knees, Dirk looked up at the idiot who struck him, all pretenses vanishing to the winds. "Like I said; stupid." He shot up and punched Eren so hard blood flew out of his mouth. Eren staggered back from the severe blow, but Dirk shoved him to the ground, locking his arm behind his back.
"Guys! Cut it out! You're going to get us all in trouble," the blond boy cried from the edge of the crowd.
A blur flashed out of the corner of Dirk's eyes, then pain shot through his kidney and back, causing him to recoil in agony and crumple to the ground. The black-haired girl shoved past him and pulled Eren to his feet, shielding his body with her own. "Leave him alone," she said coldly.
"He started it," Dirk retorted, clutching himself in pain.
"That's it!" The teen was grabbed by his collar and dragged away from the fight. "I warned you, you little shit."
Dirk could only watch as a couple more Garrison soldiers apprehended the girl and the dumbass. The blond seemed to be trying to reason with them, but his words were falling on deaf ears. He couldn't ponder this further as he felt a boot hit him right in his backside and sent him crashing against a trash can.
"Get out of here and go home!" the captain shouted as he went back to his post.
"Up yours, Private Gabby!" Dirk writhed in pain, but he still managed to give him the finger. No one spared the teen more than a glance as they walked past him. Apparently, all those from the Interior were scumbags. He didn't bother wasting his breath calling for help as he struggled to stand. For a girl her size and age, she packed a wallop nearly as hard as Kenny did.
Running footsteps caught his attention as he turned his head to the right. Another girl, though this one was different. Her bright blue eyes sparkled with concern and her blonde hair seemed to reflect the rays of the sun. That was not normal. Kinda weird, actually.
"Oh my god, are you okay?" she asked, crouching down by his side. "What happened?"
"I got beat up by twelve-year olds," Dirk answered, annoyed. "I won't hear the end of this." He managed to get to his hands and knees before nearly collapsing. "Gah, son of a b-basket-weaving, clunky degenerate." Might as well keep the girl's innocence in one respect. Least he could do.
She giggled at his word choice. "I'm sure it's not nearly as bad as you thought. Where are you hurt? Is there anything I can help with?"
"Not unless you have a first-aid kit and healing abilities." Damn you, Frieda. Learn to share!
"No healing abilities but I always carry some bandages with me in case I encounter anyone who might need my help," she replied, pulling out a rolled bandage from her shoulder bag. "Where does it hurt?" she asked again.
"Just below the shoulder blades here." Dirk indicated the spot as best he could. "Name's Dirk. What's yours?"
"Krista. Glad to meet you, Dirk." She hesitated for a moment. "Would you mind lifting your shirt so I can wrap it around your chest? It'll only take a moment, I promise." Her cheeks flushed slightly with the question.
"Alright." Dirk removed his shirt, though he kept his back to her. "Be careful. It's still swollen, though it's a less strange sight than… never mind."
Krista giggled again. "I'm sure that's quite an interesting story. But I'll be careful," she promised, unrolling the bandage and snugly securing it around the injury, earning a wince from the teen. "I'm sorry that I don't have anything to give you for the pain," she trailed off, stepping back.
"Don't worry about it," Dirk assured, putting back on his shirt. "Thanks for your help, Krista. I can take it from…" It was his turn to trail off as he stared at the girl. "I'm sorry, but have we met before?"
She cocked her head to the side, studying his face. "I don't think so. Why do you ask?"
"You ever look at someone and think you've met them before?" he wondered. "Can't help but think you look familiar." He shook his head as he slowly started to stand. "Sorry. That got really weird."
She gave a soft laugh. "Well, there's a first time for everything. I think I would remember a name like 'Dirk'." She smiled at him. "You going to be okay?"
"Don't worry about me. I can manage." He playfully ruffled her hair. "Stay out of the sun. You're gonna blind someone with that reflection."
"Awww, but the sun is so nice and warm," she fake pouted. "Take care of yourself, Dirk."
"You, too, kid."
Dirk headed in the direction of his carriage, grimacing as pain shot up his back. It was slightly less now, but not by much. However, as he looked around, his injury started to pale in comparison. People of all ages were sitting on the streets with rags for clothes. Mothers trying to soothe their crying infants and lull them to sleep in this hellish environment. The stench of human excrement was pretty severe in some cases, making him watch his step.
He couldn't understand why this was happening.
A year ago, 20 percent of the population was sent out into Wall Maria territory. That should've given the survivors more room to have homes and have food, yet this was still happening. What was the point of exiling all those people if it did little to change the circumstances? More importantly, why wasn't Frieda doing a damn thing about this.
When I get home, Big Sister, you and I are gonna talk. He inwardly swore as the carriage got into view. He gave a brief wave to the driver and put a hand on the door handle before stopping. Wasn't the driver supposed to be a brunet, not a black-haired guy? Curiously, he glanced over at the man to get a better look when he heard running footsteps. He turned around just in time to meet a club that bashed into his skull.
Crod42: I think we all learned a valuable lesson from this chapter: Dirk is a living punching bag.
MickeyTaco: I thought you were going to say that we shouldn't act like pompous fools like Priest "Fred."
TheDoctor: No, clearly the valuable lesson here is to always keep in mind beautiful young ladies you meet could be your half sister.
Crod42: Oh, that's a given. Well, what new spore of madness has Dirk stumbled into? You'll have to wait a week to find out.
MickeyTaco: We hope that you enjoyed this chapter. We look forward to your reviews, and we will see you in the next chapter.