Chapter Seven- Old Wounds
Before Cynthia knew it, two months went by. Her mind was surprisingly preoccupied with her new position - a flurry of meetings, class learning, expedition planning, and, unfortunately, cleaning had kept her busy. She had gotten good at tiptoeing around those who were suspicious of her presence and building rapport with those who weren't. But she still had two thorns in her side, the first being her reluctance to learn ODM gear since her fight with Levi. Second, her bunking situation with Sasha and Mikasa wasn't going as smoothly as she had hoped.
"Sasha!? Is that a rat?" Cynthia yelled, jumping out of her bottom bunk when she saw the animal peering at her from above with black, beady eyes. The small, wiry creature shot underneath Sasha's bedsheets, her tired, wide brown eyes meeting Cynthia's in the dull lamplight.
"Okay, look, I can explain!" Sasha cried, scooping the fat fiend up into her hands protectively, causing it to squeal and wriggle.
"Is it going to give us rabies?" Mikasa asked sleepily from her top bunk, not nearly as perturbed as Cynthia.
"It better fucking not", Cynthia exclaimed. Bunking with the two girls had certainly been interesting, considering their polar opposite personalities.
"Mr Peanut does not have rabies!" Sasha defended, holding the creature to her chest despite its desperate struggles.
"Mr- Mr Peanut?" Cynthia asked for clarification. Sasha nodded fondly, failing to calm the animal with rough pets. Its pink hands scratched at her pointlessly.
"He found my food stash under the floorboards. I was going to cook him, but when I looked at him…," Sasha lamented, staring into Mr Peanut's eyes, "I saw he was hungry. Like me"
"You were going to EAT him?" Cynthia cried, rubbing her temples with pointed fingers. Her head hurt severely from lack of sleep. Fucking nightmares.
"He is meat", Mikasa agreed, totally unconcerned with the information.
"Sasha, I understand you like having a pet, but a rat could spread disease-" Cynthia started, but Sasha yelled.
"I'm not getting rid of him! He's just trying to survive, like the rest of us!" She said, squeezing Mr Peanut.
"He's doing pretty well by the looks," Mikasa said, pointing out the rat's plumpness. Cynthia nodded in agreement.
"Mr Peanut would be happier in the woods, don't you think?" Cynthia asked, attempting the sympathetic angle. Sasha shook her head again.
"He gets a lot more food here. End of discussion," she said, rolling her back to the two of them. Cynthia rolled her eyes.
"Just because you said 'end of discussion' doesn't mean the discussion is over," Mikasa said with a hint of humour in her voice. Cynthia looked at her, a small smile on her lips.
"Guess I'm bunking with you now. I'm not dealing with its little feet running over me in the middle of the night," Cynthia said blandly, grabbing the sheets off her mattress and throwing them onto the bed below Mikasa.
"Oh, are you sure?" Mikasa asked strangely. Cynthia shot her a look. Did she object?
"Yes, I'm sure I want to be as far away as I can be from that bloody thing", Cynthia asserted, already tucking the sheets in.
"That's not very nice' Sasha objected quietly.
"It's just that, uh… you kick a lot in your sleep. Shakes the bed," Mikasa explained. Oh. She had hoped her night terrors weren't perturbing the two.
"Why didn't you say anything, Sasha?" Cynthia asked the girl, only to be met with a loud snore.
"That's why," Mikasa said, lying back down, "Don't worry. I'll deal with it."
"Are you sure?" Cynthia asked, genuinely searching for reassurance.
"Yes…also, Peanut is… well," Mikasa whispered, pointing at the floor next to Cynthia. The rat had escaped Sasha's clutches in her slumber, scuttling across the floor. She walked to the bedrooms door and opened it quietly.
"Go on, little Peanut. I would like some sleep tonight," Cynthia muttered, mustering the rodent to the open door quietly. It slipped away quickly, leaping down the hallway. Cynthia found herself feeling a little guilty, but she had an expedition tomorrow – she needed the sleep.
"You should have put it out the window," Mikasa said. Cynthia shut the door, wondering how Sasha would react in the morning, watching as the girl took shallow breaths in her sleep.
"Yeah… I weirdly feel bad, you know," Cynthia said, settling back into bed.
"She'll get over it… maybe," Mikasa said quietly, sounding unsure herself. Cynthia was frustrated to feel a sense of regret. It's just a rat.
"Everything between us now and that mountain range is unexplored – the woods were too dense to map with the limited supplies we had at the time," Hange said, pointing to snow-capped peaks across the valley. Cynthia adjusted the weight of the supply pack on her shoulders, scribe board clutched in her hands.
"Were there any water features recorded?" the cartographer sitting beside Cynthia asked. Sophia was a neat, composed young woman, nervously twirling a pencil in her fingers. She went rigid every time Cynthia moved, ODM gear clattering against the cart seat. Cynthia tried to ignore her obvious discomfort with her presence, silently working on a report about quarry supplies. That meeting, in particular, was difficult not to snooze through.
"We saw some streams on the north-side running into the forest. You and Cyn will be going south, however," Hange said, writing a note on the crude map on her own board. They were radiating today – the most energetic Cynthia had seen them.
"Sin?" Sophia asked. Hange pointed to Cynthia, who sat across from her. The nickname earned a raised eyebrow from Cynthia.
"Cyn-thia", Hange clarified.
"Oh. Nickname. Got it," Sophia said awkwardly, writing something in a notebook. Cynthia shot Hange a questioning look, wondering if she knew what the military recruits issue was. The scouts were somewhat accustomed to her presence now, but Sophia lived within Wall Sina as a Military officer. A flying insect got caught in her auburn hair, causing her to violently and compulsively brush her fingers through it, disgusted.
"Don't worry, Cyn, Sophia ranked eighth in the 101st cadet corps and has a university education in maps. You're in good hands," Hange said, incorrectly interpreting Cynthia's stare.
"Cartography", Sophia corrected quietly, her eye's unmoving from her notebook. Oh boy. A cocky smirk crept onto Hange's face, causing Cynthia to dawn on the realisation that she didn't misinterpret the stare at all. They were teasing, chocolate eye holding sharp wit.
"I'm not worried", Cynthia protested, holding back a smile. It was true that she was excited to spend the following days in the wilderness and out of Hange's lab. Some days it was suffocating, especially if Hange wasn't there to distract her. Only the price for that freedom was that she aided Sophia as an illustrator as they prospected the land for new sources of natural resources.
"What are you working on, Cynthia?" Hange asked suddenly, pushing her glasses up her nose to see her more clearly.
"The resource requests letter. I got the man-power calculations from Armin this morning, so I could finish it before we get back. Frees up sometime next week," Cynthia explained, methodically going over a list in her head. Hange seemed surprised.
"You're… I appreciate it," Hange said, pondering something. Cynthia did her best to ignore Hange's gaze as it settled on Cynthia's face. It caused her to shift in her seat, fighting off her self-consciousness. She thought she would be used to everyone staring at her by now, but being the subject of Hange's focus for more than a second always caused her cheeks to burn.
"It's my job after all," Cynthia said, trying to deflect Hange's stare before her face flushed pink. The last thing she wanted was to be teased for her obvious discomfort. She looked over at Sophia, who was thankfully absorbed in her work, seemingly oblivious.
"And you are not making me regret my decision to make it your job – which is more than I could have hoped for," Hange said softly. Cynthia looked at her, her heart racing against her ribcage. She hadn't really considered the amount of effort she put into her position; she just did what Hange wanted. Such obedience would usually come with some reluctance, yet with Hange, Cynthia naturally found herself helping without thinking about it. She clenched her jaw at the realisation.
"I guess… I feel like I have no choice?" Cynthia said while regarding the consequences of this new development. Hange sighed, gesturing to Sophia to swap seats. Unquestioningly, the cartographer did so. Cynthia froze when Hange sat close beside her, their thighs making contact as the cart swayed. The heat radiating from her body countered the chill of the wind. Hange rested her elbows on her knees, long, delicate fingers laced together in thought.
"When I first met you, I realised you were adaptable. A survivor. You would do the bare minimum to stay alive, and yet, you go beyond for things I know you think are frivolous bullshit," Hange explained quietly, "I guess I'm just trying to figure out why."
Me too, Cynthia thought. Maybe I like my newfound purpose.
"Am I really doing more than what's required?" Cynthia asked, preferring to stay in denial. She was more comfortable not exploring that question.
"You're completing reports days in advance!" Hange pointed out, gesturing to the documents in Cynthia's hands.
"So I have more time for other things", Cynthia defended. More time to sneak off and… well. Headquarters was not a place where she felt comfortable 'fraternising' – but she still had urges to manage. The showers were too cold and the living quarters too busy. A stroll into the nearby forest had to do – a large tree to hide behind and a stream to muffle her moans. Her only alone time, usually with her hand down her trousers. She didn't know what was worse – the fact she did it or the shame she felt.
"What about, say, when you bring me lunch, so I don't have to leave the office?" Hange teased.
"So we get the work done more quickly. It's efficient," Cynthia explained stiffly.
"What about those stool samples from the sick horses?" Hange pushed.
"Levi didn't want to do it", Cynthia said. It was a half-truth; he really didn't. But he was going to before Cynthia offered to do it instead.
"And my uniforms? Cleaned themselves?" Hange asked, closer now.
"Now, that was Levi… but I did collect them", Cynthia conceded.
"Exactly! You claim its efficiency, but you just use that time to do chores that you claim to hate," Hange theorised, clearly entertained with Cynthia's reluctance to admit anything. She rolled her eyes.
"Maybe I just want to impress you," Cynthia said slyly, not meeting Hange's gaze. The words escaped her mouth before she could stop them. Stop it.
"You already do", Hange whispered to Cynthia's surprise. She could feel Hange's hot breath on her neck. She was painfully close, causing her heart to hammer within her chest even harder. All she had to do was turn her head, and their lips would make sweet union. At the mere idea of it, desire silently crept its way into Cynthia's chest, pooling into her stomach and between her thighs. Her mind was turbulent – desire and shame at odds with one another.
Hange had power over her in more ways than one, and Cynthia was afraid to admit that might be what attracted her to the Commander. Did she not care about her freedom anymore? She could hear her mother scolding her already, her voice invading her thoughts. Oppressors will always take and never give. Gideon was enough evidence of that. And yet Hange… Hange was more of a custodian – also, not Marleyan, Cynthia argued with herself. But being a custodian was bad enough -
"What about your last assistant? Moblit, right?" Cynthia asked, desperate to get away from such jarring feelings. Hange's warmth died away as she took that as a hint. Cynthia suddenly felt like she could breathe again, yet she missed the heat. She snuck a look at Hange, who seemed wistful, a heavy emotion in her expression. Loss. Anger. She placed a hand against her eyepatch.
"How do you know about Moblit?" she asked hesitantly.
"His name is signed on every drawing that doesn't look like a scribbled mess in your office. And on some of the things you gave me. I just assumed…."
"Assuming makes an ass out of you and me", Hange said more coldly than usual. Cynthia swallowed. There was that same regret again, the same she felt when she let that damned rat out of the room.
"I'm sorry", Cynthia simply said, silently cursing herself. They sat in silence for what felt like an eternity before Hange sighed dramatically.
"In any case, I appreciate that you didn't fall asleep during that meeting about the quarry – and before you say anything, yes, I saw you dozing off," Hange said, humour masking pain in her voice. Before Cynthia could respond, the cart came to a halt at the scout's campsite.
"I'll see you tonight, Hange?" Cynthia asked, cautious. Hange only nodded.
"We need higher ground", Sophia declared, driving a map marker into the dirt. The pair had reached a clearing in the southeast quadrant of the forest, the foliage becoming denser as they travelled through, searching for the markers that would indicate the forest boundary. So far, they had only hit the mountainside.
"If you say so," Cynthia said, content to let the far more experienced person take the lead. She was busy being amazed by the amount of greenery she could perceive. She weirdly looked forward to the survival element of her training.
While struggling through the bush, Cynthia noticed some violet flowers she didn't recognise at the base of a conifer tree covered in vines. Compulsively, she set her illustrations aside and travel pack down, pulling out some collection jars. She picked the flower stalks just like Hange had shown her. Why am I doing this? Hange was right. What the hell do I want?
"What a joke," Sophia said under her breath, eyeing her. Cynthia turned to her, stomach lurching.
"What was that?" she snapped, causing Sophia to jump.
"Nothing," the officer said regretfully. She must have overheard us in the cart, Cynthia thought. Even she knows you're a meek piece of shit. Cynthia gripped the flower stalks tightly, knuckles turning white.
"Up there!" Sophia suddenly said, pointing out a ridge in the mountainside. The rock looked fragmented and too loose for Cynthia's liking.
"Are you sure?" Cynthia asked, eyeing the ODM gear. She's just desperate to get away from me.
"It's perfect; it's just above the tree line," Sophia said hurriedly, initiating her gear, gas hissing loudly.
"Wait-" Cynthia started, but Sophia was already moving, leaving Cynthia in a cloud of steam.
The gear's anchor's launched into the mountainside with a zip, pulling Sophia upward onto the rocky surface. The ease and precision of the action reminded Cynthia of a spider on silk, her weight effortlessly balanced on two strings. She went up further until she hit the ridge's top, precariously standing on the available stone surface. She looked down at Cynthia before following the ledge along the rock wall and disappearing amongst the jagged outcrops. Cynthia watched the ridge anxiously for some time, waiting for the woman to reappear. When she didn't, Cynthia could feel herself clenching her jaw again.
"Fuck's sake", Cynthia muttered, collecting her things and approaching the mountain ridge. She wished she could follow, but it was impossible without gear.
"Sophia?!" Cynthia called upward. Around a hundred feet to her right, she heard rapid footsteps above. Sophia reappeared, and a cold weight settled into Cynthia's stomach. The cartographer was clearly panicked; her eye's wide with what could only be described as pure terror. All grace and composure were gone. Cynthia could see she was going too fast, and before she could engage her gear, she was sliding down the cliff face feet first.
"OI! Sophia!" Cynthia cried, but it was too late. Sophia deployed her gear as she plummeted to the ground, only one grapple hook making contact with a tree branch. The wood screeched under her weight, a sickening snap striking Cynthia's ears, followed by a scream as the officer hit the ground. The image of her body flailing in the air caused Cynthia's blood to turn to ice, nausea overcoming her as memories of the bakery fire flooded her mind. As Sophia's screams continued after impact, Cynthia's lungs suddenly felt like to be in a vice as it became more and more difficult to breathe. It was like her own ribcage was trying to constrict her, her own throat trying to choke her. It was like drowning, the pressure unbearable.
"Oh god," Cynthia whispered, gripping her sides, paralysed as she was transported back to Marley. Her vision became fuzzy, and the world started to spin as her mother's screams echoed alongside Sophia's. Her legs trembled beneath her. I have to help her. She forced one foot forward after another, following the cries for help through the trees. By the time she reached Sophia, her screams had transformed into harrowing wails as she struggled for breath. She had not hit the ground.
"Holy fuck", Cynthia exclaimed, a whole new fear gripping her. Sophia had fallen into a crude spike pit, thin wooden stakes with sharpened points designed for one purpose. Cynthia's eyes drifted to where Sophia hung upside down from her impaled right leg, the wood turning red with her blood. The spike protruded through her thigh, the muscle spilt but not torn. The intact flesh was taut with the strain of Sophia's hanging weight. She was totally immobilised, any attempt to curl upwards clearly agonising. Protocol, what the fuck is the protocol Cynthia deliberated, failing to collect herself as Sophia's screams continued to cut through her train of thought.
"Help me! Get me out!" Sophia screeched, voice going hoarse. Cynthia couldn't help but shake her head, eyes darting around the environment. A spike pit means people. There shouldn't be people here.
"CYNTHIA!" Sophia hopelessly cried, face contorted in pain. The sound of her name snapped Cynthia back into focus. She pulled her pack off, searching for the emergency flare. She couldn't get into the pit herself; otherwise, they would both be stuck.
"What are y- GET me out, PLEASE. WE NEED TO GET OUT OF HERE," Sophia cried again. Cynthia felt sick. There was no way she could without help, she thought. She found the flare gun, shaky hands loading a red flare into the chamber. She aimed it at the air without hesitation but couldn't pull the trigger. An awful, guttural roar tore through the air, coming from the mountain… within it.
Cynthia froze, terror striking her like a viper – so quickly she hadn't realised she was immobile before an arrow whizzed past, slicing her forearm open. She screamed out, dropping the flare gun into the pit. Instinct kicked in, and she threw herself back into the tree line, hoping to be out of sight of her attacker. She looked at the bleeding wound, seeing that it was a prominent cut she couldn't leave unattended. Another arrow flew past, striking the tree trunk in front of her.
"What the hell do you want!?" Cynthia yelled, clamping a hand over her wound, blood slicking her fingers. She was totally defenceless without ODM gear. Getting no response, Cynthia lunged forward, grabbing the arrow out of the tree, glad to see the tip still intact. She slid it under a leg strap of her harness, left with no other option but to run.
"Cynthia!?" Sophia howled, filling Cynthia with guilt at the thought of leaving her. She couldn't force herself to move, to save herself. She wanted Sophia to urge her to run and find help. She wanted a reason to leave her behind, feelings of horrible selfishness overwhelming her. She didn't notice the person creeping up behind her in her stun locked state. She whipped around to be met by a giant fist barrelling into her torso. She vomited, bile burning her throat as the mystery man went to hit her again. She dodged, throwing a concise short punch into his ribs in retaliation.
"You piece of shit!" he yelled, going to grab her. She did a sweeping kick, the front of her foot hitting the back of his knee. He stumbled but didn't fall. Cynthia spat, acid burning the inside of her mouth.
"Fuck off!" Cynthia screamed, feeling faint. She couldn't keep her guard up, the pain in her stomach weakening her. She couldn't move in time as he lunged forward again.
"Shit!" Cynthia yelled as muscular arms restrained her, crushing her into a suffocating hold and lifting her into the air. She kicked her heels into the assailant's shins, but he ignored the blows.
"I got her!" he shouted victoriously, carrying Cynthia back into view of the sniper as she struggled. Cynthia spotted her high up in the trees, clad in brown hide and a set of ODM gear. A scout?
"Coming!" she shouted back, using the gear to land on the ground in front of them with ease. Up close, Cynthia could see she was a young waifish looking thing, gripping tightly onto a bow. She was pale and quant, black spots of rot dotting her face.
"How did you get that gear? You're not a scout!" Cynthia questioned, fruitlessly kicking her legs into the air. Looking past the girl, she could see Sophia had gone quiet, her breathing harsh and shallow.
"I didn't expect them to get out here so quickly," the girl said to the large man restraining Cynthia.
"Doesn't matter. Quick, get the gear off this one," the man instructed, moving an arm around Cynthia's throat. The pressure caused her to choke and claw at his arms, but his grip was like iron. As she kicked aimlessly in panic, she realised he was also wearing ODM gear.
"Hurry up!" he yelled, spurring the girl into action after she hesitated. She stood in front of Cynthia, proceeding to undo the buckles across her torso. Cynthia saw her chance.
"Idiots!" she shrieked, bringing her knees up and planting her heels straight into the girl's chest, kicking hard. She extended out as much as possible to create enough momentum to cause both of them to fall backward. The girl fell backwards into the pit, a silent scream on her lips. The man's grip on her loosened as his back hit the ground, letting Cynthia twist out of his arms and onto her feet. She could see attached to his ODM gear was a pistol holstered on his hip. Without a second to consider, she grabbed it, aiming it at his face. His expression shifted from anger to alarm.
"You wouldn't dare-" he started, but Cynthia pulled the trigger. Instead of a bullet as Cynthia had expected, a grapple anchor launched from the grip of the weapon into the man's eye socket, blood spurting into the air. She dropped the gun in shock as the man stilled instantly. She heard the zip of the girl's grapple hook hitting timber seconds before she dashed into her at lightning speed. Cynthia hit the ground, head ringing with impact. Suddenly, the girl was standing above her, hands wrapping around Cynthia's throat.
"Bitch! How could you!?" she cried, tears running down her emaciated cheeks. Her hands were un-expectantly strong, thin fingers digging into Cynthia's skin, causing her to gasp. Her vision started to blur again, her head throbbing. I'm not dying here. Through the fog of adrenaline, she remembered the arrow in her harness.
"I'm sorry", Cynthia gasped, pulling the arrow from her leg and stabbing it into the girl's neck. A warm shower of red sprayed across her face, and the girls grip released as she rolled off Cynthia. She coughed loudly, gagging on the blood filling her throat, terror in darkened eyes. Cynthia stood, repulsed by the scene of the woman drowning in her own blood. I'm sorry. She kneeled down beside her, placing a hand over the wound to try and slow the bleeding. It was to no avail. The horrible cry from the mountain filled the air once again, causing Cynthia to shake.
"What the fuck… is that?" Cynthia asked the girl, who only gagged in response. Cynthia already knew the answer – she just didn't want to believe it. She couldn't.
"C-Cynthia…" Sophia weakly called, prompting Cynthia to let the girl go. She turned to Sophia, spotting where the flare gun had fallen. Feeling defeated, she grabbed her pack and carefully lowered herself into the pit, teeth gritted in pain. Sophia was sickly pale and sweating profusely, clearly drifting in and out of consciousness. Cynthia could barely hear her whispering to herself.
"Mother… m-other…?" Sophia whimpered, causing Cynthia's breathing to hitch. She quickly slipped her belt off and looped it around Sophia's upper thigh, above the wound.
"This is going to hurt", Cynthia warned, but it fell on deaf ears. She tightened it, a weak scream escaping Sophia's lips. She grabbed the flare gun and finally shot it into the air, red smoke filling the sky. Only then did she allow herself to sob uncontrollably.