If you're in this for the plot then this chapter may be disappointing for you, for this is pure AM fan-service and Jean teasing. But if you're in it for that reason, then enjoy!

Darkness

Silence

Emptiness

A flicker

A noise

A sob, unearthly and ethereal.

"It hurts…"

"It hurts so bad…"

The Hero looks towards the source.

He sees nothing at first, his icy gaze unable to pierce the inky void. It's only when he blinks that something pulls backs the cloak of darkness, allowing a ghostly white light to shine upon a vast malformed skull. Half of its haunting visage was stripped down to the bone, while the other half was still covered in muscles and sinews, the stringy fibres pulled tight and moulded into the inhuman face of the Colossal Titan.

The Hero had seen this monstrosity once before. At the time he had only stared it, struck dumb with horror as his last memories, filled with only fire and pain, force their way to the forefront of his mind. He had been so sure he had ended up in some kind of twisted afterlife, that he had nearly broken down and cried in relief when he finally woke up atop Wall Maria alive and well.

But the young and hopeful boy the Hero had been then was gone, replaced with the man he had become. A man moulded by the terrible burden he shouldered, and the weight of the unspoken responsibility he had desperately tried to live up to.

"I know." The Hero finally answered, resolutely staring at the Colossal's sunken eye. There was no need to fear the dead, and even less of a reason to lie to them.

"Why… Why me…" The skull sobbed as a single tear trailed down its face.

"...Because only one of us can survive the coming war, and I intend to make sure it's us." The Hero turned and started to walk away before stopping and calling over his shoulder at the spectral remains of the fallen warrior. "I don't know if she cared for you, but I do know your feelings for her. Perhaps you will find her again someday."

With his piece said and nothing else left to tell the skull, Armin closed his eyes and walked off into the void.

When Armin opened his eyes again he was no longer in the formless dimension of nothingness talking to dead Gods, he was on his side, still fully dressed (but missing his boots and cloak) and lying on a sleeping bag. His vision was filled with the off-white canvas of a weathered tent.

He wasn't quite sure where he was or even how he had gotten here, but something stopped him from panicking. He felt safe here, wherever here was, and simply waited for the fog in his mind to clear.

Two heartbeats later, the memories of the night before started to trickle back to him one at a time, like one of his old childhood picture books.

Bertholdt's face, red from the cold and drink, contorting in pain and fear before freezing stiff.

The tense, silent walk from the campsite, with Mikasa lugging the helpless shifter over her shoulder while he absentmindedly touched the metal case in his pocket with a shaking finger.

Finding an abandoned farm and a broken barn to shelter in.

And lastly the prick of a needle, a burning sensation spreading up his arm and a blinding flash of light.

'Oh… the transfer.' Armin surprised himself at how remarkably calm he was at that realisation, seemingly indifferent to the fact he had done something that not even Ymir, the founder of the Eldian race and the primogenitor of the Nine Titans had done.

He had become the only person in history to hold one Titan, twice.

'Heh. Grandpa did say I would make history some day.' Armin smiled, remembering what the elderly man had said after discovering his grandson's dream of exploring the world. 'Though I doubt he meant something like this…'

The memories of his Grandpa's kindly face was suddenly interrupted by someone pressing up against his back and snaking a pair of arms around his shirt covered chest.

Gasping in surprise, it only takes Armin a few moments to arrive at the brilliant realisation that someone was in his tent.

He very nearly gives in to the natural reaction of screaming bloody murder and violently flailing about after discovering that someone had entered his tent, lied down beside him while he slept and had started to spoon him just as he woke up. Fortunately, before he can give in to this response, a familiar voice breaks the silence of the tent.

"Relax. It's just me."

"M-Mikasa?" He chokes out the name, feeling relieved beyond all words that it was her, and not some random person as he had initially feared.

"Yeah. How are you feeling, Armin?"

Taking a few steadying breaths after his near heart attack, Armin answered to the best of his ability.

"I… I'm alright, I think. Less of a shock compared to last time." 'Less painful as well.' He is tempted to add but wisely kept that particular tidbit to himself. "How long was I out?" He asked, noting how the sun is not shining through the tent wall, pointing to it still being nighttime.

Mikasa shrugged against his back, unintentionally drawing her encircling arms further up Armin's chest. "Not long, maybe an hour or two. We only got back to the campsite about 20 minutes ago."

'Only two hours? That can't be right.' The first time he had inherited the Colossal, it had put him out of commission for nearly half the day, waking up only a few hours before the sun was due to set. Admittedly, he had been teetering on the verge of death before eating Bertholdt, so it may have taken a bit longer to recover post-transfer, but still, two hours was much shorter than he had anticipated.

'Maybe doing this before made it easier?' Armin theorised, 'Since it wasn't the first time the process was less taxing on the mind and body.'

"That's… good." Was his lame eventual conclusion, unsure of what to do with this newfound information.

Maybe one day he could tell Hanji about it and see what she thinks, but right now Armin had a second question he needed an answer to, a subject which he wasn't sure how to express politely or subtlety, so he took a leaf from Eren's book and just came out and said it.

"Mikasa… what are you doing?"

The answer he received was short and blunt, and so quintessentially 'Mikasa' in response that he had to actively fight against the amused snort which threatened to escape his nose.

"I'm holding you."

'She's gonna make me work for the answer, isn't she?' Sometimes Armin believed that Mikasa gave such answers to questions not because it was efficient or faster, but because she found people's bewildered reactions to her candid nature amusing. Armin suspected this was one of those times.

"I meant, what are you doing holding me in my tent?"

"Your tent?" Mikasa's quiet voice took on an almost teasing note as she nudged his foot with her own. Looking down, Armin could just make out the faint outline of Mikasa's pack-bag leaning up against the tent's wall, flanked by two pairs of boots. 'Why did she bring her pack ba-'

"Wait, I'm in your tent?! Why?" He stammered out, struggling to keep his voice down. Was it just his imagination, or did the tent suddenly get a lot warmer?

"Yes, it was the easier one to get to, and I didn't want you to wake up alone." Mikasa answered, smiling to herself at Armin's reaction. It was rare to see him so flustered nowadays, with his glowing red face, nervous fidgeting and stammering. The whole thing was oddly captivating, in a way she had never felt before.

'Maybe he's reacting like that because you're cuddling him like a child would to their favourite fluffy toy?' Her inner voice drawled, sounding richly amused.

Mikasa tried to deny this accusation with one of the hastiest and weakest excuses she had ever given anyone. And that included the infamous 'Sasha farted' incident with Shadis.

'I'm not cuddling him! I'm… I'm just making sure he's alright, that's all.'

If the voice had a face, it would have raised an incredulous eyebrow and smirked. 'Oh, so the fact that being the Colossal Titan increases a person's natural body temperature by a few degrees is completely unrelated to you trying to merge into his back, and is in fact, purely coincidental?'

'...'

'...'

'...yes.' Mikasa lied, shamelessly.

Her inner voice didn't reply, only letting out an amused snort as it retreated back into her subconscious, leaving Mikasa with the bizarre sensation that she had just been outsmarted by herself. She didn't know if that was a good or bad thing.

Oblivious to Mikasa's defeat in her own internal debate, and just about over his stammering fit, the heavily blushing Armin managed to squeeze out a reply. "Oh... Thank you."

Waking up alone had been a staple in Armin's life for so many years, even during the times where he shared a dorm or a tent with someone, he had never experienced anything like this before, certainly not in his 'adult' life anyway. Perhaps his mother or father had once held him like this when he was a child, but if they had the memories had long since faded from his mind.

But if it always felt like this; warm, comforting and frankly loving, then Armin would happily give his right arm to never wake up alone again.

However, the feeling, as wonderful as it was, was bittersweet. Mikasa was here because she had been worried about him after the transfer, and she wanted to make sure he was okay. It was a kindness which to his immense guilt and shame, he hadn't afforded her.

After taking the Female Titan, he had carried Mikasa back to the camp, but then immediately fled the girl's barracks after placing her in bed, barely stopping to make sure she was alright.

'Walls, I'm such a coward.'

He shouldn't have left her to wake up alone, confused and maybe even frightened, just because he was embarrassed by the fact he had snuck into the girls' dorms in the dead of night.

"I'm sorry. I shoul-" Armin started to apologise but was swiftly cut short when Mikasa lightly dug a finger into his chest.

"Don't." She warned. Even when staring at the back of his head, Mikasa had known Armin long enough to see the signs he was feeling guilty about something, and it didn't take a genius like him to determine what it was about.

"I know you would have stayed if you could, but had you been found in our barracks, you would have been flogged or thrown out of the military entirely."

"That's not the point Mikasa, I should have done something instead of just leaving you there." Even with Mikasa's reassurance, Armin refused to let himself off the hook that easily. He was the one who had been through the transfer before, and he knew how unsettling it can be. 'I should have been there for her.'

Pursing her lips together in frustration at her friend's stubbornness, Mikasa decided to implement her back-up plan to shake Armin out of his funk. Some people may decry it as brazen manipulation, but she had learnt from the best and had seen how effective it could be to get one's own way.

"Alright, alright, if you really want to make it up to me, then there is one thing you can do for me."

"I'll do it." Armin quickly agreed, eager to make amends by fulfilling her wish, whatever it may be.

Staring at the thick head of blond hair which tickled her nose, Mikasa raised an eyebrow at that, somewhat taken aback by how quickly Armin had agreed to do what she asked, without even hearing it out first.

'Hmm, I wonder...'

A few wildly inappropriate suggestions popped into her mind but were quickly stomped down by Mikasa, who also found the tent to be surprisingly hot even with Armin's higher body temperature.

'Behave.' She chided, realising she still hadn't told him what the condition was for her 'forgiveness' (which she had already given him).

"I want you to go back to sleep."

"Huh?" Armin answered, somewhat dumbly. He hadn't been expecting that.

"There's still an hour or two before sunrise, and we could both do with some sleep." As if to prove her point, Mikasa nestled her face into the back of Armin's neck, muffling a yawn. She had been awake for almost two days now, being unable to sleep after the disastrous expedition, and had been running on adrenaline and willpower alone.

She might be one of the strongest people to ever live, but even she had limits.

"We can't be ready for what's coming if we're both on the verge of passing out."

"Oh... yeah, that makes sense." Armin could see the logic in Mikasa's words and despite the sting of disappointment, he felt Armin started to push himself up and reach for his shoes. He barely made it an inch or two off the ground before the arms wrapped around his chest tightened and pulled him back down.

"What are you doing?" Mikasa asked, sounding confused and, to Armin's surprise, somewhat hurt.

"Errr… I was going back to my tent, so I won't disturb you." Armin replied somewhat hesitantly, unsure what he had done wrong. He didn't want to wake her if he started moving about in his sleep, so heading back to his tent would be the smartest thing to do… right?

Mikasa just rolled her eyes at the explanation, but smiled nonetheless, privately relieved that he wasn't leaving because she'd made him uncomfortable. 'Does he honestly think I would mind if he shuffled around a bit in his sleep?'

Armin may be an absolute genius and masterful tactician, but he was also male, which meant he could be remarkably clueless sometimes.

"Don't be silly," she told him, as she reminisced on some of Sasha's late-night grumblings about clueless boys. "It's pitch black and freezing out there. Just close your eyes and sleep, I'll make sure we're up before the others."

Armin once again considered his options. Did he wander out into the cold, blindly stumbling around in the dark until he found his own tent? Or did he stay here, warm and cosy, with Mikasa?

It took less than a second for him to decide.

"Okay. Just for a few hours, then I really will need to go."

The noncommittal grunt he received was as close to an agreement as he was going to get so, still heavily blushing, Armin settled back down, taking a moment to shift his body weight around until he found a comfortable position. He didn't fail to notice how the arms remained tightly wrapped around his chest, even as his movements came to a halt.

A few minutes later, as his blush receded from bright red to a healthy pinkish hue, and his eyes started to droop, Armin felt something being placed over his shoulder which dropped down across his neck, touching the sleeping bag below. He didn't even need to open his eyes to know what it was, for there was only one thing Mikasa would drape over him like this.

Armin smiled as he tenderly clutched at the crimson scarf, running the soft fabric between his fingers. 'It smells like her.' was his last thought before he slipped into a dreamless sleep.

Sometime later

Jean Kirschtein had a problem. A terrible problem he could no longer ignore. A problem that has faced mankind since the dawn of time, yet never been solved by human minds.

Did he leave the warm confines of his bed to relieve the growing pressure in his bladder, or did he just ignore it and hope the pain would go away, so he didn't have to venture out into the cold?

It was indeed the second most significant problem the intrepid teenager had grappled with since waking up approximately five minutes ago.

Putting his mind to the problem Jean deliberated and pondered, planned and considered, bargained and schemed, yet the pressure continued to rise, and the pain grew alongside it. Eventually, the pain became too much for him to ignore, and with a heavy heart and a sigh Jean gingerly rose out of his sleeping bag, pulled on a pair of trousers and pushed open the flap of his tent, only to be rewarded with a faceful of the brisk morning air.

"Fuck," Jean grumbled as he clambered out and starting stomping over to a nearby tree. "Why is it so cold?" A small part of him wished he had grabbed a shirt before he had left his tent, but a larger part just wanted to get this partially undressed streak across the unstirring campsite over and done with. If he was quick enough then maybe, just maybe, he might be able to catch another half hour of sleep before Hanji woke them up for training.

The sun still had not risen over the top of the towering Wall Rose, but the orange glow of dawn's first painted across the clouds illuminated the camp just enough to allow Jean to reach a tree to relieve himself against, without tripping over or crashing into someone's tent.

A minute later, Jean was relacing his trousers and planning his route back to his tent when he heard a faint rustling noise. It was the first sign of human activity he had heard that morning, and his curiosity was immediately piqued as to who else was awake at such an ungodly hour. Stealthy craning his head around the tree, Jean noticed a tent which had been set slightly apart from the others was shifting about as someone moving around inside and pushed open the flap.

In an instant, the air was stolen from his lungs, as he saw who it was. Climbing out of the tent on all fours was the pride of the 104th and the girl of his dreams, Mikasa Ackerman.

Jean felt a brief pang of guilt as he silently watched her from afar, like some creep, but the teenage boy, who's mind and body was still firmly in the midst of puberty, found himself unable to look away.

Dressed in her usual sleeping wear which consisted of a plain short sleeve shirt and a well-worn pair of slacks, Mikasa was utterly unaware of the gaze that had fallen upon her. Still only partially awake Mikasa let out a long yawn as she stretched her toned arms around her back, letting out an unconscious moan as her back popped, instantly relieving the tension that built up overnight.

With a tiny sigh, Mikasa started rolling her shoulders but quickly stopped when the movement caused her shirt to ride up, exposing her stomach to the morning frowned down at the material, quickly tugging it down to cover herself.

There was an uncomfortable tightness in some regions of the material which hadn't been there a few weeks ago.

'I'll need to get some new sleepwear soon. Growing up again is such a pain.'

While Mikasa was lamenting the growth spurt she was experiencing and the effect it had on her clothing, Jean was currently praising every deity known to man for his luck. 'Thank you,' he prayed to the heavens, tears of joy dancing in his eyes. 'Thank you so much.'

Jean had thought his heart was about to explode when Mikasa had let out that yawn and stretched her magnificently toned arms behind her back and unwittingly pushing out her chest towards him.

He was sure it had exploded when her shirt had ridden up, unveiling the pearly unblemished skin below.

Even with one of the worst cases of bed hair, Jean had ever seen (seriously, it looked like a bird had created a nest on top of her head), Mikasa had never looked more stunningly beautiful to the hormonal boy.

Suddenly, an idea struck him like a lightning bolt, causing his eyes to widen and pupils to dilate as he contemplated the sheer genius of it.

They were the only two up, and no one else was around, for the first time since joining the military Jean finally had the chance to go talk to her without being interrupted by Yeager or Armin. And he wasn't going to waste this chance.

His shirt, or lack thereof, wasn't an issue. In fact, the lack of coverage over his muscular chest was the cornerstone of his brilliant idea.

Psyching himself up to fulfil his grand plan, Jean mentally recited his opening line to Mikasa, wanting it to be the smoothest conversation he had ever had.

'Oh hey Mikasa, I didn't know anyone else was up… My shirt? Well, I was doing my usual morning workout session of 100 push-ups, sit-ups and crunches and I didn't want to get it all dirty… Yeah, a 100 can be tough, but it keeps me in shape… No, I don't mind, go ahead, you can touch them if you want…'

Then, after allowing Mikasa to feel up his well-formed chest and abs for a few minutes, which he just knew she would want to do, he would gently lead the conversation back to her, to find out more about the beautifully exotic girl.

He could finally find out what she liked and disliked and hopefully discover what her dreams and aspirations were. Maybe slip in a few well-deserved compliments here and there, and before long they would know each other so well, that Mikasa would fall head over heels for him.

It truly was a genius and totally flawless plan that only the mind of a teenage boy could devise.

Swallowing down his nerves, Jean was about to step out from behind the tree when his blissful fantasy about a private early morning bonding session with Mikasa came crashing down around him, as Mikasa's tent started to move again.

'No…' Jean stood aghast, staring in absolute horror as the tent's flap was pushed open and another figure came crawling out. 'This has to be a bad dream... it has to be…'

Crawling out of Mikasa's tent, with dark shadows under his eyes, but a small smile half-hidden under his messy blond hair, was Armin fucking Arlert, the 104th's resident genius and Mikasa's supposed 'childhood friend'. And if that wasn't bad enough, wrapped around his narrow shoulders was Mikasa's 'anyone found touching this will die a painful, bloody death' scarf.

'This can't be happening, this CANNOT be happening!' Jean silent screamed into the void as anger, heartbreak, shame and humiliation warred within him, freezing him in place and preventing him from looking away.

He watched the two 'friends' whispering something to each other that he had no chance of catching, with dead, soulless eyes. He couldn't believe it, he just couldn't. There was no way the world was this cruel, right?

If fate was a person, they would have been rubbing their hands together with glee at hearing Jean's temptation of their fickle whims. Now the boy had really done it.

Reeling back their non-existent arm, fate answered Jean's cry with another emotional gut punch as Mikasa gently removed the scarf from Armin's shoulders, and wrapped it around her own neck with the most genuine smile Jean had ever seen from the usually stoic girl.

Fate then delivered their finishing move to Jean's battered ego as Mikasa pulled the blond into a tight hug.

That was the final straw for Jean, as the roiling whirlpool of emotions in his heart finally boiled over and forced him to tear his gaze away from the embracing pair.

"Fucking Yeager!" Jean hissed like an angry snake, punching the tree with all his might.

Quite why Eren received the blame for this was anyone's guess, as not even Jean himself could adequately explain it. It just felt right for him to curse Yeager for all the bad things that happened in his life, and this moment was definitely in his top ten worst moments.

He had been so focused on competing and fighting with Yeager, both over how annoying he was and the way the suicidal bastard treated Mikasa, that Jean had been completely blindsided by this development. Armin, someone he hadn't even considered to be a rival, even with the hushed rumours which had circled boot camp several months ago, had beaten him to Mikasa's heart.

As quickly as it arrived, the anger left him, leaving behind just a cold emptiness twinged with a flicker of pain. Staring at where his fist struck the tree, Jean only had one thought on his mind.

'...My hand hurts.'

Pulling his hand away, Jean cradled it against his chest, pitifully rubbing his thumb over the tiny grazes on his knuckles feeling like a complete jackass.

'Punching trees... really? Only dumbasses like Yeager would do something that stupid. Yet there he was, making a complete fool out of himself.

"I wish Marco was here." Jean mumbled, missing his freckled friend. He always knew just what to say, even if Jean pretended not to listen sometimes. 'Better yet, I wish I was with his group. Even with Ymir and Reiner probably at each other's throats, it couldn't be worse than this.'

Apparently a bit of a glutton for punishment, Jean found himself peeking around the tree once more to see what the two 'friends' were doing. Fortunately, for the suffering scout, fate had found someone else to bully, and had separated the hugging pair, and had sent them on their separate ways. Armin was sheepishly walking back to his own tent, gingerly stepping over taut ropes and metal pegs as he rubbed his arms, trying to stave off the morning chill.

Mikasa had already made her way over to the long-dead campfire and sat cross-legged on the log, acting as if she had been there the whole time.

Had Jean been a lesser man, he might have considered reporting the two of them to Hanji, letting the slightly insane section commander know they had abandoned their posts just so they could go… do things in a tent.

But despite what some people might think of him, Jean was a good man and regardless of how badly broken his heart was, he wouldn't snitch on fellow trainees to a superior just to get some petty revenge. He wouldn't even do that to Yeager, let alone to Armin or Mikasa.

With the dejected sigh of a defeated man, Jean's eyes snapped back to Armin's retreating form. 'Well played, Arlert. But I swear if you hurt her...' He mentally trailed off, realising that if Armin did ever do something to hurt Mikasa, it would probably be the first and only time that he and Yeager would ever agree on something.

Jean shuddered. Now that was an uncomfortable thought.

6:47 am

5 hours before Armoured Titan sighting

Breakfast that morning had been a completely unremarkable experience, almost surreally so, knowing what was coming.

Most of the scouts had risen from their slumber and huddled around the fire, nibbling at their bread and chewing down bowls of oatmeal. Hanji was sipping at a cup of tea, claiming Captain Levi had gifted her the tea-leaves a few days ago, but the smirk on her face fooled nobody.

Armin and Mikasa sat together, listening half-heartedly to the drone of conversation as they ate, giving off the impression they were both still tired from being on watch. It must have worked for with the exception of a few 'Good mornings.' they had been left alone.

Mikasa did notice Jean glancing at the two of them a few times but would always look away when she caught his eye. There were also a few cuts on his hand that hadn't been there yesterday. 'Strange.'

Softly nudging Armin with her shoulder, Mikasa inclined her head ever so slightly towards Jean, wondering if he had picked up on the odd behaviour. If he had, however, she wouldn't know, as his response was interrupted by the penny finally dropping.

"Hmm," Hanji hummed, peering over the lip of her cup at the amassed soldiers, counting how many there were. "We seem to be one short. Who's missing breakfast?"

Even though both of them had expected and planned for this, the question still made their hair stand on end and twisted their stomachs into knots.

This was it, they both knew, this was the deep breath before the plunge, the final moments of calm before the oncoming storm.

They both knew that Hanji was smart, very smart, and that she had been picked by Commander Erwin to succeed him for a reason. If she hadn't been already told outright by the Commander why they had been sent here, she would have figured it out on her own by now. Erwin was hunting for the shifters, and when she finds out one of her charges has suddenly disappeared, Hanji will make the obvious connection.

The shifter has fled.

It was the wrong conclusion of course, but the only one which would make sense to the section commander, with the limited information the scouts have available. But the result will be the same, she will know Bertholdt was a shifter and is now missing, so she would organise a search party to find him. And when they find no trace of him, they will dig into Bertholdt's 'history' and who he is close with, then all eyes will fall on Reiner.

Their window of opportunity to take the Armoured Titan may be measured in a matter of hours before the Corp gets too involved for them to act freely.

Keeping their eyes firmly locked to their meal, Armin and Mikasa both pretended they hadn't heard their old Commander speak. Unfortunately, the others around the campfire, eager to get in Hanji's good books knowing she could influence which squad they joined, had no inhibitions about answering her question.

"I haven't seen Bertholdt this morning, Miss Hanji." Sari Ikra, a short girl with chestnut brown hair answered, fiddling with a silver bracelet under Hanji's gaze. She was one of the 104th cadet corp who had joined the scouts in both her lifetimes, but, to Armin's great shame, he could barely remember the girl.

Mikasa had vaguely recalled her, muttering something about girls nights or something, and had informed him that Sari had survived Trost (where she lost all of her closest friends), and the 57th expedition (where she achieved an assist kill working alongside two other scouts) but had been killed during the impromptu-expedition to rescue Eren from Reiner and Bertholdt. And Armin had only found that out yesterday.

Six years. It had taken him six fucking years to realise someone he had trained with and fought alongside within the corp, had died.

How many others had a similar story to her? Died alone, friendless, ungrieved and forgotten? It made him feel sick.

'She deserved better… they all did.'

"Yeah, same." Robbert Jojin added, shooting Sari a cheeky grin before turning back to Hanji, "I didn't see him by the latrines either." His was a face both Armin and Mikasa had forgotten, even with his bright ginger hair pulled back into a small ponytail. They hoped he had just been one of the many cadets who had joined the garrison, but the grim face soldier within both of them suspected he had died in Trost.

"Really?" Hanji queried, putting her cup of steaming tea down beside her. "Well he was on watch last night, so he may have just overslept. Which one is his?". To anyone not familiar with Hanji, they would have missed the subtle changes in her demeanour as she looked over the assembled tents.

The cheeriness of her voice, which had been so genuine moments ago as she flaunted her 'borrowed' tea to everyone, was now strained and forced, which immediately put her own squad on edge.

Her dark brown eyes had turned cold and hard, another sign that the carefree eccentric scientist had just handed over the controls to the deadly serious, and sometimes vicious, section leader.

That was enough of a reaction to make Mikasa give up on pretending to eat and quietly discard the half-empty bowl. Copying the others in following Hanji's gaze, Mikasa rested her hands in her lap, feeling the shape of her concealed pen-knife press into them.

She didn't expect to need it right now, but it was nice to have it present, just in case.

"That one," Jean grunted out, pointing towards Bertholdt's tent. "He's probably doing his morning dance." There were a few wry chuckles from the male recruits who had seen the bizarre contortions Bertholdt managed to get himself into while sleeping. It didn't last long though as Hanji stood up without a word and stiffly walked towards the tent Jean had gestured to, leaving an awkward hushed silence behind.

Everyone watched as she moved over to the tent, noticing how her fingers would twitch every few steps. Most of the scouts from Squad Hanji had stood up as well, looking back and forth between their leader and the confused recruits, equally as baffled by their Commander's unusual reaction.

Hanji came to a stop in front of the tent and seemed to hesitate for a moment, taking a deep breath before crouching down and grabbing the seam of the closed flap.

'This should be interesting...' Putting her ability to understate the most serious of situations to good use, Mikasa coolly watched as Hanji yanked the tent flap open and revealed the unused and abandoned sleeping bag inside for all to see.