I sigh and release a stream of smoke as my thoughts continue to run in circles. Been spending a lot of time thinking the past day. I'm currently laying stretched out on a quiet patch of ground between two tents, hands behind my head, trying to figure out what to do, and still somehow just as damn confused as I was yesterday.
Why'd they even trust me to handle their food? I'm their enemy, they should all hate me for why I came here. And why the hell did feeding them feel so damn good? I came here to fight them, or more likely to die getting information others could use to fight them, so why was I happier yesterday than I've been in years? Well, at least those were just some young officers, not like any of them would have the authority to start the rumbling.
A squad of devils flies past overhead and I'm certain I'd have been able to shoot a few if we'd fought during daytime. Part of me is glad we didn't, I might have shot her without ever meeting her like I did yesterday. Part of me feels like a damn traitor for feeling that, for how I feel about Sasha. What a pretty name. And what a frustratingly pointless crush to develop, not like a mere prisoner's likely to get another chance to talk to any of the young officers I fed yesterday, especially the one I most want to get to know. Seems mostly low ranking people patrolling the ground around the tents.
And there she is, flying past with what I presume to be her squad, Sasha and a half dozen younger Eldians following behind that black-haired woman who's name I didn't catch. Damn, Sasha's graceful, like she's dancing on the air. I could watch her fly around all day. Did she just wave at me before passing out of sight, or was that just wishful thinking?
The fuck is wrong with me, feeling hope for something so obviously hopeless? I'm sure she was just being polite yesterday, but damn it would be nice if there was more to it. Not often someone calls me mister. Though I've heard it a fair amount lately, definitely didn't expect to find so much courtesy on the island of the devils. Or appreciativeness.
Aside from being stunned by Sasha's wondrous display of joyful appreciation, and I could watch her eat my cooking all day, it was also more gratifying than it should have been to see the rest enjoying their meals. Everyone except the little angry guy was smiling, and he at least stopped frowning and glaring. At least until I lit the sauce. Such a shame I didn't get to see the reactions to the flavor of the dessert. I really hope Sasha liked it. And I hope she survives when Marley inevitably invades. And maybe if I'm really lucky, I'll get a chance to talk with her again. Shit, since when am I lucky? None of this makes any sense.
"Oi, Niccolo," a familiar voice calls from behind me as I hear footsteps approach.
"Hey, Samuel," I reply without looking back.
"Haven't seen you around," he remarks, "almost thought you slipped off somewhere."
I chuckle at this as he takes a seat and lights a cigarette. "Maybe I'll give that a try if I ever feel like getting lost in the woods till one of you drags me back. Think I've had enough of getting hauled around in the air, though."
"I heard about that," he says with a laugh. "Heard you served up a hell of a meal, too."
"Yeah? So they all liked it?"
He grunts an affirmative as he leans back against the side of a tent. "Rumor mill has it that you served up all kinds of weird looking stuff from the sea that all tasted great, then you set the table on fire and made some sort of dessert on it. Dunno how that would work."
"It was just the sauce burning on the dessert. High proof rum was the last thing I added, so it'd burn hot enough to improve the flavor without scorching anything."
"Now you got me wondering."
"Yeah?"
"You think dumping some gin on my rations and lighting them up would improve the taste?"
"Eh, it can't-" I choke on my words as her squad sails overhead again, then recover and continue after she's out of sight again, "can't make them taste any worse."
"Well." He sounds amused.
"Well what?"
Samuel grins as he elaborates, "Well, looks like someone met a pretty girl and got smitten."
I sigh. Was I that obvious? "Guess that's a dumb thing for a prisoner to do huh? And doing a shit job of hiding it, apparently."
He shrugs at this. "Hey, can't control your heart, man. Dumb or not, it'll do whatever it wants. So, welcome to the club."
"What club?"
He chuckles lightly. "I was in the same Training Corps class as her. At one point or another in the three years we trained together I think most of the guys, including yours truly, and a fair number of the girls had a crush on the woman worth a hundred soldiers. And Mikasa shot us all down."
"Huh? No, I was looking at Sasha."
"Sasha? The sloppy eating girl who goes berserk over food?"
"She wasn't sloppy, just… enthusiastic," I insist. "And amazingly joyful, appreciative, radiant."
"Huh. Not the way I'd describe her habits, but alright."
I narrow my eyes and quietly demand, "You saying there's something wrong with her?" I know my squad would have objections if I mentioned her around them, didn't think Samuel would.
He lets out a low whistle at this. "You've got it bad. No, there's nothing wrong. She's a little different, but she also saved my life, and introduced me to my wife, by shooting me in the leg."
"She what? Is that… normal dating practice on this island?"
He laughs heartily at this. "No, you don't have to get injured before asking someone out, it just helped in my case. You know much about when your people's titan shifters attacked us a few years back?"
"Just that the warrior unit failed hard enough to lose two of the titans they'd been trusted with."
"You know about the walls, right?"
"Only that there's three, full of oversize titans that might go for a walk some day and kill everyone I care about back home."
"That's only a last resort, I really don't think it'll ever happen," he assures me.
"You seriously think whoever runs this place isn't going to use that power to strike back?"
"Man, we just want to be left alone. Most of us didn't even know an outside world existed till a couple years back. Anyway, seven years back, the armored and colossal broke through our outer wall. Couple years later, I was old enough to join the military and ended up in training with all the folk around our age you fed yesterday, and for some reason all three of your warriors were there too."
Huh, did they somehow not notice there were four? And he enlisted five years ago? That doesn't sound right. "Wait, how old were you?"
"Twelve."
Damn, that's almost as early as warrior candidates. And he said three years? These guys were graduating when I was getting drafted. "Why's the training so long? We just got four months before they sent us out to fight."
"That's just how long it takes to master flying around on ODM gear. So after we graduated, they put us on wall duty before letting us choose what branch to go into. Sasha graduated in the top ten, but wasn't taking wall duty seriously and was wandering around visiting with other squads. So lucky for me she happened to be nearby when the colossal attacked and I was knocked out and fell off the wall. I'm told she didn't even hesitate before going over the edge and sprinting down the wall after me."
"Down the side of the wall?" I'm trying to visualize what he's telling me, but it doesn't make much sense.
"Yeah, you see there's a limit to how fast you can fall, because the air slows you down. She used the wall to drop faster so she could catch up to me. Shot a hook into my leg when she got close enough, then hooked the wall and stopped about five meters before I would've splattered. I'm told that my boot and her hook were about all that was holding my leg together when I got to the field hospital, they weren't sure I'd even walk again. I was laid up for months healing and got kinda close with one of the nurses. So after I got discharged, I walked back in and asked her out, and that turned out pretty well."
"She always gutsy like that?" Impressively decisive, too.
"That's why she's one of the elites."
"Yeah?" Elite. Sounds like the girl of my dreams is even further out of reach than I thought.
"Second in command of Mikasa squad, that crew's second only to Levi squad." I have no idea what those names mean, but his tone tells me it's something impressive.
"Sounds like someone only a hopeless idiot of a prisoner would catch feelings for," I glumly remark as the squad in question passes again and hopeless longing twists in my heart.
"You should talk to her next time you get a chance."
"What?"
"She literally just waved at you, man. You should talk to her."
"You sure she waved at me?" Feeling a bit of hope now. Just a bit.
"She sure wasn't waving like that at me, Sasha's no homewrecker. No, somehow you've managed to catch her interest. Maybe you should do something about that."
"What, should I go climb a tree to chat her up or something? Elites don't seem to spend much time on the ground." Yeah, I'd probably fall and break a leg or something. Definitely wouldn't get a chance to talk with her laid up in an infirmary.
"I might have something," he says as he stands back up. "I'm supposed to be fetching you to talk with Yelena about another job, but wanted to see what was up with that face you were making first."
Huh. I never did have the best poker face. "More cooking?" I ask as I stand.
"Can't think of any other reason she'd ask for you specifically," he states as he begins leading the way. "Unless you're not the only newcomer to develop a crush."
"Ugh, I hope not."
"Too tall for you?"
"Too backstabbing for me."
"Fair enough. Anyway, if you're cooking again, she'll find a way to come get a taste. That's your chance."
"What if she's not invited?"
"Even better, she'll sneak into the kitchen and you can talk there."
'I get an actual kitchen this time?"
"Probably. We've been building a more secure camp just south of the city our headquarters is in and it's far enough along we've started moving prisoners to it. Now wait here, Yalena's meeting with the Commander; I'll let you know when they're ready to see you."
I end up cooling my heels outside the tent for a good 20 minutes before Samuel opens the tent flap and waves me in, then leaves to resume his patrol. Guess hurry up and wait is a thing in the devil military too. Inside I find the one eyed commander, along with that short man who seems to always be around her, the tall traitor, the traitor with the really long name I can't remember, and a traitor I haven't met yet. More importantly, I smell coffee. My eyes are drawn immediately to the small pot on a table, standard Marley naval issue and steaming away wonderfully. Damn. It's been days since I've even smelled coffee, didn't realize how much I missed it.
The sound of snapping fingers and a barked "Oi!" brings my attention back to the other people in the tent. Shit. Guess I zoned out a bit there, the little guy and the tall freak are glaring at me while the Commander and that guy with the long name both look damn amused.
"Ah, could you repeat the question?" I request.
"I was just saying hello," the Commander replies. "Are you feeling alright, Niccolo?"
"Maybe he's thirsty from waiting," the long-named fellow suggests.
"Could be, Oyankopon, he was staring at the drinks. Would you like some tea, Niccolo? Or maybe some of this, what did you call it, coffee?" Oyankopon nods and I utter a perfunctory thanks as I rush to the coffee pot. By the scent, whoever brewed it knew what they were doing.
I take a moment to breath in the aroma before taking the first sip. Might be my last cup, since they don't seem familiar with it here, probably oughta enjoy it. "Thanks," I repeat as I turn back to my captors. "I missed this stuff."
"What, you don't like our tea?" the short one demands. Normally I take a question like that as a joke, but his stonefaced expression is absolutely serious.
"Maybe they steep it too long sometimes, but it's fine. I just prefer coffee." His eyes narrow and I notice he's the only one in the tent with tea in his cup. Maybe he brewed it and doesn't like the fact nobody else wants it? I should say something nice about tea. "Ah, it's not always my first choice, though. Especially if you have some oolong or orange pekoe leaves, haven't had either of them in years."
"Wait, you have more types of tea out there?" His intense gaze seems to bore to the back of my skull as he crosses the tent to stand in front of me. "Tell me about this oolong," he orders.
I never expected to be interrogated about tea. My only consolation in this bizarre situation is that the tall traitor is looking increasingly angry and upset as it goes on and every time she attempts to steer the conversation to what she needs, the short guy finds a new vulgar way to tell her to shut up. All I really know about the subject is about the teas served in the restaurant I trained in, and he seems intent on dragging out every detail about them, right down to temperature and steeping time.
I'm on my third cup of coffee when the Commander, who's been chuckling into her own cup this whole time, finally puts a stop to it. "Levi, you two can finish this talk later, we need to discuss business before Niccolo misses the last cart to the new camp."
"Tch, just tie him to a horse if he misses his ride, he'll be fine."
"You can track him down later if you want to talk more," she orders.
"Fine," he concedes. "We'll finish this later. Don't go giving four eyes any more dumb ideas, she almost burned down the tent this morning."
"The fireball wasn't that big," she denies." Looking closer, I notice her eyebrow is missing.
"Did you flambé your porridge?" I ask.
"Is that what it's called? The thing you did with dessert? It was pretty good on breakfast, too."
"Waste of rum," Levi grumbles as he sits at a table on the side of the tent and begins flipping through what looks like a cargo manifest.
"We didn't call you here to discuss breakfast or tea," the overly tall blonde speaks up before the discussion can go off on another tangent. "I've been speaking with the Commander about the meal you prepared yesterday and we have a proposal for you. How would you like to open a Marley-style restaurant?" Looks like Samuel was right about this being a good opportunity for me.
