Chapter Five

Content warning: torture

"I – I don't know how to thank you." Ilona leant against Kruger, already concocting the mysterious illness her family would find her stricken with.

"We can discuss the note this afternoon. Or evening. Wait for me outside your place. You're not going out alone until whoever stabbed you is found."

"I assure you that won't be a problem." Ilona swallowed. Rather than anger, she felt brokenhearted that Mr. Berg would fall so far.

"Really. Hmm, I wonder why?"

"Shut up."

Kruger glanced at her with a wry smile. "You're aware you would have died without me, right?"

"Quite." Ilona closed her eyes to ward off the dizziness. One foot in front of the other.

"You'd make a decent blind citizen," Kruger remarked.

If she knew her attacker, why wouldn't she want him turned in? Kruger wondered what other secrets this seemingly proper girl hid. Gambling? A disgruntled lover? The last thought left a tinny flavor in his mouth, and he wasn't quite sure why.

Kruger stopped in front of the wrought iron gate that separated Mayor Minsk's sprawling mansion from the rest of the world. "You know how to treat cauterizations?"

"I'm sure I can find a book. We have quite the library." Ilona squirmed, once more uncomfortable with her wealth.

"Don't be naïve. That wound was beside your heart. An infection will kill you within a day." Kruger shoved a slip of paper towards her. "Instructions. I'd imagine a well-stocked house like yours should have the proper materials I've listed."

Ilona held the paper between her fingers, confused by his kindness. "Um. Thank you for your assistance, Sergeant Major Kruger. I'll see you this evening."

"Call me Eren."

"Yes, I suppose you have seen me half-naked," she said matter-of-factly. "Eren."

Kruger felt his face burn, but he managed to reply, "We might as well strip to a first name basis."

Ilona bit back a giggle. "My window is the leftmost on the second floor. You might want to awake me, in case I'm still asleep tonight."

"I have full confidence in your ability to be competent when it matters." Kruger tipped his hat in Ilona's direction and trudged back towards his room, intent on seizing that remaining hour of sleep while not thinking about Ilona Minsk.

The dogs growled as she slipped through the fence and darted for the house, but Ilona was climbing the chimney vines before the creatures fully awakened. Every move hurt, but she only had to resist the pain a little while longer.

Alone in her room, Ilona tore off her bloodstained pants and the soft linen shirt Eren had leant her, which might as well have been a dress given her small stature.

She could not quite understand the requirements of propriety, where it was shameful for someone to see her body even if she was dying. Surely bodies were not so sinful.

All she wanted was to rest, but even in her nightdress Ilona could feel grime and ash coating her. She would have to visit the family medicine cabinet before she could rest, and with no Eren to rescue her, she had better not faint again.

"Another day, another breakout." Gross huffed besides Kruger.

"You're awake this time." Kruger glanced at his partner.

Gross sniffed. "I had a family emergency."

Kruger lifted his eyebrows until the unpleasant little man turned pink.

What were the odds Ilona had been involved? Krugger almost laughed at the thought. Of course the brat had.

Helping her had put him too close to their investigation for comfort. Ever cover, every slip for humanity led him closer to discovery. Not that he exactly regretted saving her; he merely regretted the risk.

If only life were as dissectible as semantics.

By the gate, the two soldiers found Private Ivan Torvald eager to share his story.

"I only took my eyes off the gate for a split second, sir. To investigate." Ivan gestured to the broken window just beyond the ghetto's interior.

"And you turned around and saw someone leave?" Gross asked.

"No, sir. I heard a scream from outside, that is all." Ivan swallowed.

Torvald was everything Lenin wasn't. Kruger shoved aside his morality once again. "And you thought that was enough to raise an alarm?"

"Sir?" Ivan frowned.

"You didn't see anyone escape. For all you know, the two events are unrelated."

"Unlikely. Assuming two criminals were separately responsible, one Marleyan and one Eldian of course – don't you think it likely the shattering glass would have scared the other off?" Ivan shrugged. "And a quick search turned up blood."

Fuck. Couldn't she have bled a little less? Kruger let out a sigh. "Show us where."

"Was it a man or woman's scream?" Gross would be interested in that detail.

"Woman's."

"Torvald, you wouldn't know what a woman looks like, let alone sounds like," Kruger snapped.

Ivan flushed, but he held his tongue as they turned down the nearest alley. "Here, sirs."

Kruger stared at the blood spattered on the cobblestone streets and brick walls.

"That's not from a trivial wound," Gross observed. "And you've not been able to find any bodies nearby?"

"No, and not much of a trail, either. We followed it down that street, but it ended rather quickly."

"We ought to test the blood," Kruger said with relief. Well, thanks for bleeding less, Miss Minsk. And when the blood came back Marleyan, they'd be stumped.

"Good idea, sir!" Ivan's eyes lit up, desperate for approval.

But Kruger's eyes had already moved on, to the weeds and broken beer bottles further up the alley. "Wait."

He squatted down and scanned the glass. He'd known she couldn't have been wounded with a knife, but glass would fit the wound pattern. He donned gloves and lifted a long shard coated in blood. "Our weapon, perhaps?"

"Must be," Gross agreed. "We'll test that, too."

Kruger nodded sharply. He wanted to know who'd done this, and why. Just what sort of shenanigans had her bleeding heart locked her in?

"Good work, Private Torvald," said Gross, patting Ivan's shoulder.

"Thank you, sir." Ivan smiled, though he was too intimidated to meet Kruger's gaze again.

"I bet you some Eldian bitch escaped and got what she deserved," Gross said.

Kruger's breath caught. "We can have the hospitals keep a lookout, but if they had an Eldian victim, they'd have informed us by now."

"You never know. Bleeding hearts, those doctors." Gross lifted his head. "If there's anyone whose loyalties I wouldn't trust, it's a doctor."

Kruger snorted. Gross frequently surmised more than he ought, but he'd never been smart enough to recognize his instincts.

"Mom?" Tiberius peered at the frail woman lying in the dingy hospital bed before him. The bed was lined with four cracked walls who'd long shorn their paint, and he didn't like it, not at all.

"She can hear you," Dina encouraged. "They just had to make her sleep while they healed her brain. Go on, you can talk to her."

He nodded at her, before slowly reaching out to take Alma's hand. "Mommy?"

"I'm okay, and Sally is, too. She's sleeping too, just down the hall." Tiberius' lips trembled. "I miss you."

He looked back at Dina for approval. She smiled in response, squeezed his shoulder in approval. This mom was sweeter than his own.

Dina stepped forward. "Alma, I'm Dina Jaeger. Don't worry about Tiberius; he's staying with my husband and I and our son. When you get better, I think our families could be good friends."

Grisha wouldn't like it. He'd say Alma would jeopardize them. But Dina looked at the weepy boy before her and couldn't help herself. Eldian restoration might be the most important thing in their lives, but it couldn't be the only thing.

When she returned home to find Zeke already home from his "important military school," as Tiberius labeled it, Dina's resolve only strengthened.

"See, this is called division. It's like subtraction but more efficient," Zeke explained, moving his toy soldiers around to illustrate his point.

"I wish," Dina said to Grisha as evening fell, "that Zeke could have more moments like this."

"His children will. Someday." Grisha swallowed hard as Tiberius took his turn dividing the toys.

Dina nodded. She felt more proud of Zeke now than when he memorized more of their secret history, and a quick glance at Grisha's furrowed brow told her he felt the same.

"You should join them," she said, jabbing him with her elbow. "I'm sure your wise doctor skills could teach them more mathematics."

"We have a meeting in ten minutes." Grisha squirmed. Zeke couldn't miss him if he never joined them, right?

"You're right." Dina lowered her voice. "How should we explain this?"

"Zeke knows better than telling," Grisha said.

"He's still just a child," Dina pointed out.

"Children are more trustworthy than we give them credit for. We're meeting old friends, that's all." Grisha shrugged and reached for their jackets.

Zeke stopped paying attention to Tiberius. "You're going now?"

"Going where?" Tiberius asked.

"Meeting old friends," Dina parroted. "You two be good now, all right?"

"We always are," Zeke said grumpily as his parents slipped out to meet their revolutionist friends. As soon as the door shut, he whispered, "Tiberius, do you want to know a secret?"

Tiberius shivered. "What kind of secret?"

Secrets like him and Mom being beat up? Or secrets like Ilona helping them? And speaking of Ilona, where was she? Where was Father?

"I'm a spy," Zeke said.

"You're what?" Tiberius frowned. "Very funny."

"No, really, I am. Mom and Father are at the spy meeting right now," Zeke said, scrambling to his feet. "Here, look in my father's desk. I'll show you."

Tiberius stood, but hesitated to follow his friend. "Won't your Father be mad?"

"He won't hurt us," Zeke replied. "They're strict, but they would never hurt me."

Look at the pages, Zeke. Memorize it again, or no dinner. It's not that difficult; what are you crying about?

Zeke forced a smile. "I promise."

"The last time someone tossed pebbles at my window, I had my father send the police after him." Ilona slid next to Kruger, amused and only in moderate pain. Hidden beneath ferns and a leafy oak that towered above, not even the dogs would give them trouble. Not that she didn't have meat to be safe anyways. "I was, oh, all of sixteen and this boy in my class at school wouldn't leave me alone."

Kruger's eyebrows practically met his hairline.

"I didn't have him arrested," she hastened to add. "I thought he could be frightened into proper behavior."

"Was he?"

Ilona traced the pliant soil with her fingers. "He moved on to someone else. And then another girl. Eventually he joined the military and went out east, where I'm sure he's found someone else."

"I see why you don't trust the military." Smart move.

"How can I anyhow, when we treat Eldians the way we do?" Ilona looked into his eyes. "Would you have saved me if I were an Eldian, Eren?"

She had used his name. He hesitated. "An escaped Eldian would be dangerous."

"Who's to say there hasn't been one already?" Ilona jabbed a finger into his arm. "Your guards aren't the best. But I…I don't see an increase in danger. If someone escaped, maybe they just wanted a better life, and I can't fault them. I rather think I'd help them. So arrest me."

"They're not like us." Why? Why did he have to test her?

"I'm not like you, either. And you're not like me." Ilona leant forward. "You ought to think about it."

"Who's to say I haven't?" Who's to say it hadn't consumed his very being for over a decade?

"Well, clearly you've thought some of this through." Ilona held up a sheet of paper. "I transcribed your letter for you."

Kruger snatched it. "You won't tell if I keep your secret."

"I suppose we'll have to see which one of us breaks first," she said slyly, with the type of innocence held by someone inexperienced in life stakes. It was almost charming.

"I don't expect either of us to break."

"No, certainly not." Ilona held out her hand. "Allies, of a sort."

He gripped her hand in reply.

"May I inquire further?"

Kruger hesitated. "How much further?"

"Not into your activities. Rather, the man behind them. Why are you helping them?"

He was the sort of man more comfortable discussing actions than motivations, she noted by his sudden shiftiness.

"How much," Kruger said at last, "do you know of the Marleyan Titan Warrior program?"

"It's being done to protect us from the Eldians on Paradi," she said. "Though it seems manipulative, encouraging parents to weaponization their children for financial gain we otherwise deprive them of. Ethically, I know my father has many concerns."

"But he still approved it."

"Well, what could he do with nearly the entire council against him?" Ilona's eyes flashed.

"Be a leader? Go against the majority for what something he claims to believe in?" Kruger laughed sadly. "That would be foolish."

"Maybe, if more of us did risk for what we believe, the world would be better," she said.

"Well, given the diversity of humanity, I'm inclined to think we'd still kill and pillage each other." He sighed.

"You don't like thinking that."

"No, but reality is frequently grim." Kruger met her gaze again. "There is no threat from Paradi. We want their oil and minerals for help with our Eastern enemies."

Ilona stared at him as if she'd been stabbed a second time. "You lie."

"I assure you, I do not."

His weary posture scared her. "No, my father would not approve such selfishness. No human would."

Wouldn't they?

"Be – besides, it's nonsensical. We'd create a threat from their titans if we fought them unprovoked," Ilona said. "But – but that would kill many Eldians, like a civil war of sorts…Oh…"

And who exactly would be sad?

She held her head in her hands. "Forgive me, but I can't – I can't believe you. Wait! Then why would you help send a child through a pointless program? Are you a monster?"

"Maybe," he said. The shadows on his face made him look much older than his years. Despite herself, pity stirred in Ilona's heart.

"Let me guess: the child will have no choice but to pass, or face consequences more dire than a pointless war?"

Why not tell her? Kruger suspected she could handle the truth. "Death."

Ilona sat perfectly still until Kruger halfway suspected her to be a statue. She was unpredictable, and unpredictable was dangerous.

Finally she grabbed him by his tie and yanked him close, close enough to feel her breath on him, close enough to see the spirit behind her wrathful golden eyes. "Then you better fucking help this kid."

"Dear, you still look very pale," Raina said the next morning.

At the door threshold, Ilona waved her coffee-colored hands around. "I find that impossible, Mom."

"You know what I mean. You look awfully weak. And you're wearing those turtleneck clothes, like you've a chill." Raina stepped forward and took Ilona's face in her hands. "I know you want to help, but, dear, don't lose yourself in the process."

Ilona softened. "Is that what happened to you?"

"And look at me: I never recovered." Raina smiled sadly. "Not completely, anyhow. I recovered enough to love you and your father, and that's all that matters. But if you can spare yourself such a burden, I wish you would."

"You recovered the important bits. And I love you," Ilona said, risking the pain to embrace her mother. "I will try to take care of myself, I promise."

"Try." Raina rolled her eyes. "I said the same. You're my daughter, there's no doubt."

"Oh, was there ever?" Ilona shared a chuckle with her mother before making her way outside. Mom was right, but unfortunately, people couldn't wait for aid or her recovery.

"Our man seems compelled to help the children – or at least one child – in the Marleyan titan program. Perhaps he's trying to redeem his crimes, though I doubt it. Seems he's more a passive bystander to Gross's crimes." The words rushed out of Ilona's lips before she and Jack had even had a proper greeting.

He tugged on his beard, unsurprised by her urgency. "And what makes you say that."

"I, uh, got into a bit of a scuffle that night, and he provided help. I'd rather not talk about more than that, though." Ilona shrugged.

"No, of course you wouldn't." Jack eyed her. "And how is the girl, dare I ask?"

"I was going to pay a visit today. She got to a proper hospital, if that's what you're asking. I would have come yesterday and told you, but I've been – occupied."

"Obviously." Jack sipped his coffee. "Muriel will be glad to hear that, however."

"And the father?"

"No word. He'll be caught sooner or later. Best neither of us are around for that." Jack knew he sounded cold, but he never saw the need to waste emotion. His life already spent enough of it.

Her jaw twitched, but Ilona knew better than to argue with Jack. "The Marleyan titan program. How much do you know about it?"

Jack hesitated, of that there was no doubt. "Why do you ask?"

"Why do you hesitate?"

"The world is colder and darker than you might bear, Ilona. Best to ease into it."

"Oh, fuck ease." Ilona spat out the curse as if she'd spent her entire life around sailor ruffians, and Jack wasn't sure if he admired or took offense to it. "I need to know, Jack. If you can't tell me what I want, at least tell me where I can find it."

"You can find it in my office, Ilona. You will not like it," Jack promised.

"I will not like ignorance, either. You know that," Ilona replied. "I've come too far to retreat."

"You can always retreat," Jack countered, draining his coffee. "It's commendable that you won't."

"The blood was Marleyan?" Gross wrinkled his nose. "I don't believe it."

"You don't believe it because it's not what you want," Kruger replied.

"Not only that," Gross freely acknowledged, "but an Eldian did escape. I've just received a letter from a hospital."

"Really." Kruger barely felt anything. He was numb by this point.

"He's refusing to cooperate, apparently. I'm sure we can work around that." Gross's lips curled in a grotesque smile.

Somewhere in his mind, he wondered what Ilona would say if she knew.

When the sobbing Eldian was dragged in, Kruger's heart skipped. He'd seen that face before, drool-coated, drunkenly inviting Ilona and Miller into its home.

Reality crystalized before him. Somehow, this bastard – a bastard that gave Eldians their bad name – had escaped and stabbed Ilona.

"We'll take him," said Private Kristoph Wertz, beads of sweat already appearing on his forehead. If Kristoph had been in any other circumstances before joining the military, he probably never would have hurt so much as a fly. Soldiering was slowly eating his soul.

"N – no," sobbed the man, collapsing to the floor. "Please let me go."

"I think not," Gross said, rolling his eyes.

Kruger saw the fear shimmering over Kristoph's face. "Let me handle this, Wertz."

"And some point the boy's gotta learn!"

"At some point, but on such an easy case? He's above that." Kruger dragged the kicking man into a room and thrust him into a chair. "Now, you're going to tell me what I need to know."

"My name is Tiberius Berg," babbled the man as tears and snot ran down his face. "I just want to go home."

"Home, to Liberio, where you just escaped?" Kruger crossed his arms. In his peripheral vision, the gleam of knives taunted him.

"They were coming for me and my daughter!" the man squealed. "For me and Salome. I had to get us away."

"Your child is out here somewhere?" The children were always the worst.

"No, because this fancy Marleyan bitch – lady, lady, I mean lady! – tricked me. She stole Salome and brought her back into the ghetto. I know it sounds preposterous, but I was sober then. I only stole from the liquor shop today because I needed it," pled Tiberius Berg, Sr.

There it was. But if he'd stabbed Ilona, how had she helped the girl?

"And drank yourself near to death." Kruger scanned the report detailing how he'd been discovered lying on the floor after having drunk a quarter of the store's alcohol.

"I lost my Salome," mumbled the man. "And my Tiberius. He's my son. They're both gone now. Because I'm gone." He began to cry again.

"How did you escape?"

"I never thought this would be me," Tiberius wailed. "I always laughed at reports of the stupid ones who left the ghetto. Please let me go back. It's not right – one mistake shouldn't give me death!"

"Life is not fair, either. And I'm going to need more answers." Kruger turned to the knives, for no interrogation was complete without them.

Think how it should be! Ilona's shouts echoed in his ears.

Some blades were thick for fingers, toes, dicks and breasts, others finer and sharper for skinning. And he fucking hated all of them.

He picked up a delicate one.

I'm sorry, he prayed to the trash before him, his trashy comrade and Ilona's enemy, yet the man Ilona had still tried to save.

He chose the most delicate knife. He'd go lightly on him – it was all he could do, for him and for her and maybe, just maybe, for himself.

NOTE: IM SORRY Y'ALL. L