And show them you did.

Eren huffed into his meal the night of initiation. The Training Corps was everything you expected it to be. Grueling, loud - you glanced at the other gaunt faces in the cafeteria. Some had plumper cheeks, obviously relaying aspirations geared towards continued safety in the walls, while others were more haggard - just happy at the sight of a meal.

He had gotten the brunt of Shadis' shouting, and had the fatigue to sulk over it. "How are you three fine?" he pondered aloud, soon realizing that he was alone in the exacerbated aches resonating throughout his body.

You watched Mikasa shrug. Once you realized that you had accepted your fate as one being tied to the main plotline, you had set to work on preparing your body for the worst. No amount of exercise would give you omni-directional gear experience, but you stipulated that increased muscle mass and endurance would surely give you an advantage in bolstering your body against its gravitational demands. So you had spent the past year working out.

Digging through your old memories, you recalled boxing regimes you once pursued to strengthen your body and began practicing them in the shadows of barracks; you did laps in the tilled farms; stole food from tyrant workers. It was Mikasa who noticed the shift in disposition, the carefully scheduled drills. She and eventually, Eren, participated, but the latter was never a good student. Feeling directionless and bored by the routine exercises, he only participated when he was bored or if Mikasa had managed to drag him to your sessions.

In comparison, it was Armin that was your loyal student. At first, you had suspected that he had latched onto you to remember his grandfather, but after a few months of hesitant smiles and sporadic laughter, you two had grown into each other's lives. He worked the routines with you everyday, eventually chiming in to help develop more rigorous drills. He was more fleshed out in this world, leaner and stronger; a prodigy you should have emulated your sister to be. He didn't condone the stealing though, but begrudgingly took its rewards. He was the one that deviated the most from them. He sat next to you in the mess hall, back straighter, eyes less wary; in some ways, he was your second chance. Someone who your sister could have - should have, been if you had accepted the consequences of your reality sooner than later.

You were proud of him.

When the four of you finished your meal, you gathered outside on the awning. Ignoring Eren's exuberant bravado and previous altercation with Jean, you opted to sit at the edge of the group, draped in the shadows of the cool night. Somehow, and as usual, Armin found a spot next to you.

"Can you believe it?" he spoke quietly.

As the year went on, he realized you were as vocal as Mikasa was. That being, hardly at all unless it was to chastise or instruct one of them. He had noticed your tentativeness regarding being open with them, but he never called it out. Behind your crumbling facade, he acknowledged that you were trying .But he still always tried to get you and Mikasa to talk more, claiming your voices were heaven sent when he was forced to endure Eren's endless tirades.

The door behind you two swung open again, and from the periphery, you eyed Annie - stoic and silently moving to the female-assigned barracks. When you had made the decision to survive, it meant interfering with the storyline as you knew it. While you could have basked in the safety of knowing the plotline, you refused to be a bystander to any casualties that could not only endanger your life more- but your friends as well.

You didn't know if the so-called plot armor extended to them with your sudden entrance into the story - not with how Armin was turning out thus far, so that meant finding a way to expose her sooner than later.

Armin reached out to squeeze your hand, a customary action he realized that was efficient at garnering your attention again. He could have called your name out too, but for some reason, your response to it was fifty-fifty. You had played the role of an older sister for so long, and well too - that you had forgotten your origins until she had been ripped away. Until you had been forced to remember your fragile reality and humanity. And since then, you remembered your older persona from the Old World.

That older girl, with angry eyes. The one who moved with ambition and spite.

You had to remember her because she had the beginnings of someone who could survive in this world. She could inspire the fire that your sister's death had blown out.

You squeezed Armin's hand back, once again choosing silence over words.

Shadis didn't like that.

How quiet a handful of his new recruits were. Sure, he had observed that Reiner had some boisterousness in him, but for the most part - that recruit was also selective when he spoke. You had made the same observation as well, when the two of you had been paired off to fight.

Reiner had appraised you quickly, seeing your spindly arms for weakness. That had been his mistake, and he took it in stride with a grin; he had you beat the next round.

"That's some technique," he commented as you two temporarily recuperated on the ground. It was about an even match between you two - your boxing regime enabling you to match the stronger boy on an equal platform. Initially, he had fought you using the foundations that Shadis had the instructors demonstrate, but you had sparked his interest - his competitiveness. You moved faster than most and weren't shy about your punches. You had been caught by surprise when he altered his form and technique, but ultimately, you had years over him.

Although, that was barely enough to keep the boy from completely dominating you.

You wondered what upbringing he had been through to be able to fight like that.

You hummed in response, head buried in your endless ruminations.

"You don't talk much do you," he observed. You glanced up at him. There wasn't anything instigating in his comment, but you didn't like how he was staring at you. As if you were hiding something he had to know. He had those same eyes when he realized you were slightly a cut above the rest. He had to stop that. You had nothing to hide. Just failures and regrets.

You stood up just as Shadis announced for the class to gather around for a new demonstration. You made to move towards Armin, but a calloused hand had grabbed your elbow. You stilled and the hand quickly disappeared.

"I didn't mean to overstep," Reiner quickly apologized, noticing your recoiling at his touch. "We'll be working with each other for a few years and it wouldn't be good to start off on the wrong foot."

You glanced at him from the corner of your eye. "We're fine."

And you two were.

Shadis had an eye for who was stronger and who needed more remedial work. So rather than work with different members of your troop, you were constantly being paired off with the same group of faces: selfish, rude Ymir; quiet, familiar Mikasa; reserved Bertholdt; loud, antagonistic Jean; Titan-shifting Annie; dependable Reiner.

Huh.

It was the second year into the Training Corps that you realized that you had strayed from your original group of friends. Sure, you still tagged along with Armin and the others but somewhere along the way you all had pursued different knits of friends.

More or less you than them, seeing as they had grown up together. You were surprised when you befriended Ymir. Albeit not too shocked as you discovered mirth in her crass comments. She was rude, protective of Krista, but had taken a liking to your tougher skin. She never worried about offending your feelings when you two conversed and rolled your eyes at each other. Krista, on that note, became your friend by extension as well. You were what the group called a blessed person, being allowed to approach and cajole with the girl under Ymir's watch.

And then there was Mina and Thoma. Your heart had skipped a beat then when you first met them. They ranked somewhere in the middle of your class, not doing too bad, but not performing well enough either. You had taken them under your wing, whether in guilt of their future or because you found yourself easily slipping into a mentor role with them - you didn't care to figure that part out. Didn't dwell on the images of their deaths imprinted in your brain. After all, you had already seen where coddling had gotten your sister, and as much as you loved her - that was a lesson you needed to learn; there would be no more spoiling others under the blanket of safety. You three traded hints and notes at times during dinner, a student camaraderie that was painfully familiar to your old life, but nevertheless welcomed. Aside from their looming end, they weren't as tied to the plot as the others and were strangers you could interact with without pre-existing biases.

Your group was not as close as per say, Sasha, Connie and Jean or the golden trio that were Eren, Armin and Mikasa; it was composed of closer knit friends recognizing the importance of strong camaraderie. But you appreciated everyone. It felt nice to belong again after losing all the ties you had to this new world.

"What are you mourning your guts out here for?" Ymir stepped out of the veranda of your barrack, doubtlessly unable to fall asleep as well.

You didn't look up, troubled by your own thoughts and memories.

Your sister, did she hate you, for watching her die?

And Annie, how would you expose her? That was a thought that haunted your dreams every night. Your livelihood, the smiles on your friends' faces, they all depended on you - on Annie's identity. And one year in, you still had nothing to show - no proof other than her reclusiveness. You had engaged her a lot during sparring, hoping to draw or instigate something out of her - but all your attempts had been futile thus far. She was better than you - stronger - and ended your bouts before they could ever escalate.

Regardless, even if you managed to unveil her identity to the others, would you even survive the impending battles after your graduation year to make it even matter?

"Oi," Ymir kicked your side, deepening your frown..

"I'm tired," you finally relinquished. "But I can't sleep."

"Would a lullaby do it for you?" Ymir scoffed.

You pushed her leg.

Ymir scoffed. "Gotta try harder than that."

"Unless you're offering Krista's services, I'm firmly declining."

"Smartass." Ymir looked out the veranda of your barrack's porch, falling into the same ponderous silence you had been moments ago. Taking her distraction to your advantage, you observed the teen from the corner of your eyes. Ymir was the most unexpected friend you had made thus far. Having remembered her as a highly reclusive and exclusive person, she was little more than Krista's uncalled guard dog; abrasive and selfish - she had made it very clear to everyone that she wanted no relations beyond the blond girl's affections.

But she had allowed you to come near her; trade blatant, possibly borderline acerbic jokes between one another. She made you feel real. Seen.

Or really, she had seen you. The old you - the real you? Sometimes the lines blurred between your two lives and their personas. Perhaps it was a coping mechanism that forced the older you to create a new mindset. She most likely regretted it though, seeing that no one could have foreseen you being reborn into Attack on Titan. The new you, the coddled, obedient you - was never meant to, and would never be able to, acclimate to the consequences of your world. She had been adamant about it. Taken over your mind when your body lagged during training. She made your new body push its limits, fight. She gave you motivation - the untapped fury of your past faults and present regrets to keep going. To be strong.

You weren't ignorant though.

You knew that the "personas" , the different versions of yourselves, weren't healthy for you. She was you. In more ways than the anger and motivation, she - you - had always been the person you were now. Yes, you had let yourself be coddled during the early years, but you had already met death twice now. You weren't so keen on meeting it in finality so soon again. You had appreciated her - your old experiences - contention and ambition - that kept you going. But you had to keep remembering that those thoughts, that old mindset - was yours. All yours.

You were actively trying to stop the compartmentalization, the separation of your old you, the new you, the young you. Sometimes it was hard. Sometimes the regrets and loss were too much when combined, but you were actively forcing yourself to embrace them all - to carry on all their burdens.

"Why Krista?" you finally inquired, not wanting the company of your thoughts anymore.

Ymir glanced down at you, the cogs in her head obviously churning to figure out which line of conversation she could be bothered with for the night.

"Because she's kind." Ymir finally surmised, looking away again. "You don't meet many people like her."

"There's Armin," you argued, and this time, she scoffed.

"Oh please, that boy won't survive a day outside these walls," Ymir refuted. "He's all brains, and for someone that wants to join the Survey Corps with Eren - that's a death sentence. And stupid."

You frowned. This Armin that had taken you in, that had helped you put enough pieces of yourself together to function again, was stronger than his original character. Sure, he still preferred his books, the lectures, over arduous training. But under your tutelage, he had enough promise in him, potential to become more should he want to.

"Krista, she's -" a rare moment of gentleness overencompassed Ymir's face. "She's kind, but she's also not an idiot. She knows what's out there, she knows that if she doesn't get her shit together, that if she doesn't try here - then she's dead."

"But she has you," you pointed out.

Ymir crossed her arms. "I can't always be there, smartass."

A quiet admission.

And a sullen one at that.

You sighed and stood up, brushing the invisible dust off of your legs. Unlike most girls, you - and Ymir, had opted for trousers over nightgowns to go to bed in. "Goodnight," you nodded, passing her thin frame.

You ignored the raised eyebrow at your sudden departure, and made straight for your top bunk bed. Ymir was right, and had rung a hollow regret in you. Your sister.

You had been there, but still, you had lost her.

You didn't have the heart to point that out to Ymir either. If she could somehow keep to Krista's side forever, there was always that harrowing reality that one day, that wouldn't be enough; all their training, all their sweat and tears - it wouldn't be enough. The world knew now mercy. Not for angels, or sinners - and surely, not for fools or dreamers either.

You stared at Thoma and Mina the following day, sullen in your thoughts as you forced yourself to eat lunch with them. They were animatedly discussing the history - short history - of the Walls, and had futilely tried cajoling you into participating in their conversation. You feigned boredom and easily avoided their inquiring gazes. Internally, you wanted to scream at them, tell them that all their knowledge was for naught. History wasn't going to save them beyond the walls or from the titans that would soon breach them again.

Abruptly, you stood up, earning a few more looks from your classmates amassed in the mess hall. Your cheeks burned at the attention, but you quickly walked out, refusing to entertain any brusque questions.

Appropriately, Mina followed you outside. "What's wrong?" she asked softly, stopping you at the precipice of the barracks and training grounds.

You refused to look at her face, afraid of the words that would pour out of your mouth if you did. "I have to train," you merely surmised.

"We'll be training the whole day, Gerr," you heard the sardonic lilt in her voice. "Is there- what's going on with you?" she asked again.

You signed and titled your head back, eyes shut and protected from the blinding sun.

"I -" you shook your head. "You and Thoma - it's not enough," you bit your bottom lip, turning your head slightly towards her, but still not looking at her face. "What you two - we are doing, it's not enough. The books -" you grimaced "They won't save you from Titans."

"So we're weak." She frowned, you knew she was frowning without even seeing her. She huffed two big exhales out, as if trying to manage her anger. You wouldn't be surprised if that was what she was trying to control right now. You figured you would be angry too, if someone had told you that what you were doing was all useless. "I - com'n - Gerr, look at me!" Mina hardly raised her voice, but when she did, you always listened - obeyed.

You hated how her lips quivered. "I know, okay," she drew out, as if already aware of her death sentence. "I - I know that Thoma and I, we're not the best, but we're trying."

But not enough.

Your hollow eyes spoke the words for you.

Mina turned away, spurned and distraught at the same reality that had long ago been painted out in red for them.

A/N just in case any one sees this story somewhere else - it should only be on Archive of Our Own! I am also there.