Eren stared down the winding path through the city, unseen by the familiar ghosts.
A hunter carried his catch. Another smiled at the sight of its corpse. The ghost's children rubbed their stomachs in their drooling anticipation.
The catch's children called for their mother.
And just down the road, another ghost was starving. He wouldn't admit it. No, he'd never burden his friends with that. He just talked and played and joked and walked and ran and was there with them.
He's not with them now.
He left them for enemies.
Eren fought for him that day. He gripped the captain's boots from the bloodied floor he lay on and he begged. "The ocean," he cried, "the ocean!"
"Captain, have you ever heard of the ocean?"
His wit was sharp, maybe even more than the Commander. He sure as hell wasn't born a leader, but what he lacked in confidence he made up in mind. He also was selfless, choosing to sacrifice himself over others.
Maybe that's where they differ.
But Armin became dull. He grew distant and vague. He occasionally would sneak out of Survey Corps HQ when he thought no one would see him. Not Eren or Jean or Connie or Sasha could tell you where he went or what he did.
Then he started coercing with the enemy. He took all his pain, his sins, and his guilt; he took all the pressure that was weighing him down and left. He chose the frozen murderer over his friends. His family.
The color red.
As the useless military did nothing and time began running out, Armin's disappearances came more often. Once, Eren tried following him. Armin led Eren down the river and into the forest. He stopped in the middle of the woods and glanced around. Then he screamed.
"Useless! Useless!" He clenched his sides and screamed at the floor, "Just die already!"
He beat himself bloody, and cried faced in the dirt. He choked and cried until he healed. Then Armin got up and left.
Eren watched him laugh and joke with Jean the next day. He helped Hanji play with her time-wasting toys. Then he smiled at him as if nothing were wrong.
He was too caught up in his shit to do anything. He put so much into keeping up his facade that he became "useless". Sometimes Eren even regretted his choice.
If there were a solution it wouldn't come from Armin, and it sure as hell won't come from Hanji.
Eren looked around Shingansina. One man he saw had 672 days before a Bulder pulverized him. There also was the grocer. His head was bitten off. There was a woman. Blown into a window with her newborn daughter.
There were ghosts he knew there too; a drunkard who wasted most of his life and only ever fought to do it again. A man who's pain pushed him to call for violence, until he saw what he called for and lost his spine. A woman who claimed that there was absolutely nothing special about her child. And there was no one else.
Eren adjusted his scarf.