The fourth time it happened, Armin had a plan at the ready.
Because when he'd left the week prior, he didn't just leave behind his findings.
No, rather than seeking out a work of fiction, this week he instead decided to read through that history tome that had successfully caught Bertholdt's attention. That evening in the library, Armin barely got through a couple of chapters, in part because he was captivated by the barrage of new information — a good portion of which he had already heard, but now presented with so many supplementary details that it was a feast for this mind — and in part because it was rather difficult literature that could come in handy if they were ever assigned to write something about the history of the walls.
To his shame, he hadn't even finished the part on Wall Maria by the time the next Friday came around, but that didn't stop him from going back to the library that evening to declare to Bertholdt that he, too, had taken up reading something he knew interested the other. If it turned out that Bertholdt had dragged his feet reading Tale of Allumia, at least Armin could pitch in and talk about something he did enjoy. If this didn't work, he might just give up and accept that the other boy was too taciturn to accept Armin's attempts at recruiting a reading buddy.
When he entered the library after dinner — Eren and Mikasa were used to him disappearing on Fridays by now and stopped holding him up once they'd figured out he went hunting for books — Armin took up the same spot he took up last week: a comfortable corner in the back of the library, the floor slightly lowered so that he could disappear into that corner entirely, well-hidden to anyone who entered until they stepped further into the room. It was the only spot in the library that had any other furniture besides the bookshelves and a table in front. The little end table that stood against the wall could be useful in the future, in case he had a drink or a lantern with him. All that was missing was a blanket and a pillow to support his back, but he wasn't quite confident enough to sneak those into the library and make himself a prime bullying target just yet.
Several people entered the library while Armin combed through another chapter in the Wall Maria section of his book. Most were just there to quickly come get a new book or return the one they previously borrowed without exchanging many words, some not even noticing him, though one boy did stay around to talk with Armin for about 20 minutes before he left again. Said that the library was a little too crammed for most to stay and read, but all the more power to Armin if he felt at ease there and didn't find the narrow space bothersome.
Dusk fell, and there was still no sight of Bertholdt. Armin's heart sank more and more the longer he sat in the back without a sign of the taller boy. By the time it became too dark to read and curfew was around the corner, he still hadn't come over, making for the first time in a month where he'd broken his usual pattern.
When Armin emerged from the building again, his disappointment was tangible. Slow pace, eyes on the ground as he went over all the rational reasons why Bertholdt didn't come to the library today — he'd finished all his other books and had gone earlier that week, he was too tired and didn't notify Armin, he was clueless about Armin's expectation for him to be there again — and he was almost reluctant to return to the barracks for Eren to question why he sulked.
Whenever Armin ran into Bertholdt in the week that followed, the boy didn't exactly look like he was avoiding Armin's eye contact. He behaved like he always would: aloof and avoidant but not unkind. Armin figured that he must've forgotten to go to the library that day, or he simply didn't have the time to read and wanted to avoid a repeat of last week. Maybe he'd really gone back to the library on a different day. Armin had gone back on Tuesday, but found the door locked. Regardless, there was definitely a good reason Bertholdt hadn't shown up on Friday. After all, they never actually arranged to see each other again the next week. It never went beyond an unspoken arrangement, maybe the taller male simply hadn't picked up that it was an arrangement at all.
Armin held on, but when Bertholdt didn't show up the next Friday or the Friday after that, he felt discouraged from trying. So much so that when he entered the library a month after they'd last met up, he had almost forgotten that he used to meet Bertholdt here on a semi-regular basis. So when shortly before dusk, the taller cadet entered the library, Armin hadn't even noticed him until he was greeted by him, stealing his attention away from a captivating chapter in the Sina part of the book.
"You finally made it! It's been a while, I wasn't sure if you were still coming," was the first thing Armin said, a little dumbfounded because by now he was convinced that Bertholdt was actively avoiding him.
"Oh? I guess it has," Bertholdt responded, scratching his collarbone. "I haven't read that often in the past weeks. When I did, I came back on Thursdays, I suppose."
Armin wasn't sure if it was an excuse or a genuine reason, but he didn't feel the need to figure out which one it was, because held in one hand, there was something he recognised instantly. Bertholdt must've noticed Armin's staring, because he spoke up again without waiting for Armin's answer.
"Oh, I finished this," he said as he held up Tale of Allumia.
"What did you think?" Armin immediately asked, voice too high to mask his excitement.
"You were right, Armin. It was a nice read," Bertholdt responded, his expression a milder version of Armin's.
Sparks surged through Armin's legs and he had to tense his muscles to avoid wiggling them at his victory. Instead, he pressed them flat and crossed them, placing his hands onto the floorboards and leaning forward. "Ah, you liked it too, that's amazing! What's your favourite part?" and immediately, he went on, "Mine is the one where the Druid makes a grave for the Knight to lay his spirit to rest and the Squire has the stitching with his insignia on it. Did you notice how badly he doesn't want to let go of it even though the Druid made it very clear that bad things would happen if he didn't place it in the grave? Isn't that strange? It almost feels unnatural how attached he is to that stitching, but the magic of the land is all gone, so it doesn't make sense."
Armin pointed up his finger, bowing forward his head in anticipation of getting to speak his next words after a month of theorising. "Until you think of how it relates to the Knight. My theory is that he's secretly evil. Demons still have magic, don't they? He will return someday and that stitching is going to be relevant, and maybe he's currently even haunting it, so the Squire is being influenced by him to hold onto it until it's useful to the Knight. What do you think?"
Bertholdt blinked at the whole infodump, letting out a strained chuckle when he processed all that. "I haven't really thought about it that much, Armin." He leaned against the bookshelf where he was standing, though he was too tall to get proper support from it and just ended up hunching over against it. "Well, the Squire is a child, I think he was just attached to the last memorabilia he had of the Knight he served for so many years. Wouldn't you want to hold onto the things your loved ones left behind?"
Armin's mind travelled to the old straw hat that still lay in his quarters, despite how much of the limited space that the cadets had at their disposal it took up. "Oh," he muttered, feeling stupid for looking past such an important detail. When he looked back up at Bertholdt, the boy looked slightly panicked.
"It's not bad, of course!" Bertholdt placated, turning his hands up before he dropped them onto the bookshelf again. "But… I did notice something else, now that I think about it."
Bertholdt's willingness to indulge Armin immediately cleared his mood. "Oh! Tell me!"
"Well…" Bertholdt hesitated for a moment, like he was about to divulge a deep secret. "Did you ever notice that there's been a lack of mentions of what exactly happened to the Knight? That the Squire is attached to something important to his mentor I can understand, but he seems awfully secretive about him in general. He probably knows more than he lets on, but the Druid chalks it up to him being young and in mourning. And because she has an explanation for it, we assume that she's right. But what if she isn't?"
How did Armin miss that? Or did he pick up on that subconsciously but fail to articulate these thoughts? It had been a month since he last read the book, but when he went digging through his mind for the scenes that talked about the Knight, the Squire was indeed always vague about him.
He looked up at Bertholdt again like he had discovered something life-changing. "So you're saying he's alive?"
Bertholdt nodded, a rare confident smile accompanying the gesture. "I mean, we can't know for sure. But it would make sense, don't you think?"
"That does make sense, actually," Armin spoke as he turned his eyes to the floor in front of him, a hand on his chin. "And maybe the Stranger — you know, the one with the hat? — was a sign of that?"
Bertholdt nodded. "Probably. Maybe the second book has answers."
Right. Justin Huhn's other works. Armin had been so caught up in putting effort into matching Bertholdt's interests that he'd neglected to look for any other books in the series.
There was so much more that he wanted to talk about, but it was already getting dark and the window of opportunity had passed. "Ah, I wish you'd been here sooner so we could talk about it more, Bertholdt. We'll have to leave soon if we don't want to anger Shadis."
"Yeah… Sorry," was all Bertholdt said, averting his eyes.
If there was one thing Armin knew, it was that he'd have to help this boy build up a habit of coming here and enjoying himself. He was good at theorising and had decent reading comprehension, noticing things Armin took for granted. He couldn't lose this asset.
"It's okay," Armin said as he pushed himself upright, then picked Maria. Rose. Sina. off of the floor to take with him. "Want to walk back together?"
Bertholdt seemed caught off-guard, and after glancing sideways, he nodded in agreement to the suggestion, making one small detour to retrieve new reading material as Armin made his way to the door.
This late into October, the transition from inside to outside was quite constricing. Armin wrapped his scarf around his neck before all his body heat could escape from under his coat's collar. He took his chance to show he wanted to reciprocate Bertholdt's efforts. "Look!" he said as he held up Maria. Rose. Sina. but he only received a puzzled look from the taller cadet, prompting a little more explanation. "I've been reading it over the past month because I saw you had read it too. Now we'll have something to talk about that you picked. Pretty neat, huh?"
"Ah, I uh… I see," he responded, looking away as if he'd just been caught reading something raunchy. Armin thought it was endearing how embarrassed he was over his other interest.
"Don't tell me you lied about reading this one too," Armin teased.
"What? No, I… did actually read it this time. The part about Wall Sina surprised me the most." Voice gentle and timid, much softer than he was speaking in the library.
"My parents always used to tell me stories about the Walls," Armin fondly reminisced as he looked in front of him. "They always had so much to tell me, but it was nice to see what they told me verified in a comprehensive book. You are from a secluded mountain village, right? How did you come to be so interested in history and how the world works?"
In other words, where did he figure out people so well if he lived in a small community for so long? Maybe his silent nature made him someone interested in people-watching. This was the part where Armin expected Bertholdt to deny his interest, but after brief silence, he was surprised to get an answer.
"I didn't leave the village very often. When I did, it was to hunt or chop wood. Never to go to the city or even to a larger village and never very far. Reiner and I, we grew up isolated. Sometimes, other people in the village would leave for the city, but my father… He didn't, so he didn't have a lot to tell me. What he told me wasn't bad, but it was limited in scope."
He cleared his throat, walking in silence for a short while until he spoke up again. "After Wall Maria fell, I realised how different the world was from what I thought it was growing up. I found out that I didn't know anything, and… Yeah."
That story didn't feel complete, but it said enough. Bertholdt was a thinker who wasn't allowed much information about the world when he was growing up. "That's why you wanted to know more? To compensate for knowing so little growing up?"
Bertholdt nodded, breaking eye contact to instead look up at the dark sky above them and walking on without responding.
"I see. It's great that you've found your passion. Can you tell me more about your father?"
Bertholdt shook his head, looking straight ahead as he wore a stoic expression. Armin accepted the secrecy. They all had their own sensitive topics, and now Armin felt a little rude prying so deep when he already knew that Bertholdt and Reiner had left everyone behind in a rush.
The boys' barracks came into sight and Armin was relieved that he could steer the conversation away from this topic. He looked back up at Bertholdt, who in turn looked down at Armin when he noticed he was being watched.
"Bertholdt, I'd really love to talk about our books whenever we have time again. We couldn't discuss much today, but I'm sure that next time we'll have plenty of time to talk about everything."
The two halted before the barracks. From the sound of it, the moment they'd enter, their voices would be drowned out by the commotion inside. Bertholdt smiled at Armin, beaming in the light of the barracks. "Okay. I'll see you when I see you, then?"
"See you soon," Armin replied, a warm smile on his face. With that, they entered the building and each went their own way.