As Jean approached Wall Sina his sharp eyes noticed one thing about the gate; the river of people was much thicker and livelier than he had ever seen it. The noise was a buzz of chatter and when he peered in, searching for more clues about the crowd's purpose, Jean saw the majority of citizens were laden with packs, luggage, and wrapped in so many layers that they appeared to be a band of coat hangers.
Jean scowled and he stopped in the middle of the street, just out of the hoard's way. Admittedly, his plan hadn't been to sail through the front gate but the surplus of people invited the likelihood of many more soldiers on duty. What the hell were these people doing anyway? Once you reached the Interior, who would go...? The scowl cut a deep line across his mouth and forehead and he spat yet another swear at the damned 'Titan Show'. The pointless farce had done no good whatsoever.
"C'mon everyone!" called a weary voice into the crowd. It was the tone of a man at the end of his shift, but somewhat familiar to Jean. The MP turned his head and searched into the crowd again to catch a glimpse at the voice's owner.
"For the last time, there's no need to shove! Urgh!" The short-haired Garrison member threw up his hands in frustration, allowing him to stand out among all the heads and bustling.
Jean froze for a few seconds, cranking the cogs in his mind to recall the familiar soldier. "Thomas?" he called out as soon as the lightbulb clicked.
Thomas' head whipped around as he located the equally recognisable voice. "Jean?" They locked eyes and any doubt was cut. Thomas' eyes lit up and he grinned. "Hey, Jean!" The golden-haired Garrison waded through the citizens and made his way over to the grumpy fellow ex-cadet and Trost born. "How've you been, Jean?"
Jean attempted a smile in return but the heaviness tugging down his shoulders and lips did not move. Thankfully, Thomas did not consider this to be out of the ordinary. Jean had never wasted many pleasantries which those he didn't know too well.
"I've been fine, Thomas," he said, "but I need some help."
"Help?"
"Yes. You don't need to know why, but I need your jacket. You can have mine, be a member of the MP. All that matters is that I can look like I'm Garrison."
Thomas laughed, apparently thinking it was a joke. Jean barely avoided growling in his impatience. "Why'd you want to be in the Garrison, Jean? I mean, come on. Don't tell me all that about getting to the Interior was just a joke."
"It wasn't! Listen, I really don't care what I have to do, just agree."
"Woah, okay." Thomas held up one hand to calm Jean down while slipping off his rose-emblazoned jacket with the other. "Calm down a bit. I was only joking. I'll gladly swap, but this doesn't seem like you. That's all."
Jean nodded shortly. "I know. I'm busy, Thomas, so I don't have the time to explain, okay?"
Thomas nodded and eyed Jean's jacket, not with suspicion as the latter would have done but with mild incredulity. They exchanged uniforms and Jean noted that the sleeves were shorter. Annoyed, he reassumed talking.
"You won't pass as an MP for long so after today, go back to the Garrison and say you lost your jacket instead; I, for one, won't be here to return it. Walk around Stohess for a day or something. I'm sure you could find something to do."
Thomas had realised by then that he wasn't going to get much context so he ended up smiling back at Jean. "Thanks, Jean. Soldiers like me aren't really allowed this side of Wall Sina. That's what you MPs are for. Don't know what you're doing but it seems important, so good luck with all that." Thomas moved his fists to his heart and back in salute and sauntered off happily, already assuming the general sunniness radiated by most citizens grateful to be in the Interior. Jean watched him go for only a few seconds before returning to his initial mission. He studied the surrounding people but they were all too engrossed with themselves to have noticed the illegal trade.
Now he was a Garrison Member, crossing the wall and exploring beyond that was much easier. No-one would question a rose-wearing soldier's presence in the territory beyond Sina as they would a clear MP.
Jean avoided the actual gate and instead made his way up. No-one gave him a second look. Stohess' entrance was heavily guarded, not only for the sudden manifestation of 'holiday-goers' but every time of the year. The amount of guards had increased that day yet Jean found the previous annoyance to be a disguised blessing. He ventured up a strand of wall fairly far from the way out with non-existent resistance. The extra soldiers were all stationed with the crowd so Jean discovered that he was alone.
With the lack of people came a surprising quiet, and with that quiet came the wisps of thought stabbing at Jean. His plan was not all too thought out, he knew that, but it was too late to care. Jean didn't doubt he would be able to sort himself out in the two or three days it took to reach Maria from Sina. Even if the murderous scout wasn't at the show he would find someone who knew them. The only problem appeared as the realisation that travel between Walls wasn't an easy thing. Even as a soldier, even as a tourist, it would take a lot of time to walk. Jean didn't have a wagon, or a horse, or anything of the sort. He clenched his fists tried to accept the probability of theft in his near future.
Jean rose and fell, rocking on the balls of his heels instead of standing rigidly as he usually did. Nerves shouldn't have bothered him but anticipation tugged at this body with puppet strings.
People passed by amicably as the Garrison shepherded them through. No-one was interesting enough to catch Jean's eyes; even the outcries of a random wall-worshiping protester became routine after a time. No OMD rigs were being used. No scouts had shown their faces.
His borrowed jacket was too small no matter how Jean pulled at the hems and cuffs. In hindsight, a taller Garrison would have been better but the opportunity with Thomas had been too perfect for his to pass. As long as I look like one of them it's perfect, he forced himself to think despite its explicit contradiction with his feelings.
"Um, excuse me?"
Jean leapt back and lashed out mindlessly with a fist. His knuckles caught something and crashed the victim to the ground.
"Bloody hell," Jean snapped at himself. He stuffed his hands into his jacket and moved over to the petite blonde he'd knocked over. "Listen. Sorry for that and all but you shouldn't have…"
A pair of large blue orbs gazed up at Jean and the small person got back to their feet shakily, brushing back hair nervously to reveal a face. He looked dazed.
"You're a guy," Jean stated dumbly. At least it hadn't been a little girl but the civilian was still built like a daffodil; a punch from Jean must have hurt.
"Huh? Sorry. I mustn't have caught that." He rubbed his cheek tentatively and met Jean's eyes with an almost apologetic expression. Jean was surprised, but not enough not to cover up his mistake.
"It's nothing," he lied. "You shouldn't be here anyway. You're not Garrison." He looked pointedly at the blonde's lack of uniform and tried not to think about the illegitimacy of his own.
Confusion flashed through deceptively analytical eyes, however, it quickly fell to an awkward laugh and smile. "Don't worry. My name is Armin Arlert and I'm working here to supervise the travel's progress." Armin extended his hand, a pleasantry Jean did not feel the need to copy but he did at least relent his name to the young supervisor.
Armin's hand trailed off and his blue stare changed targets to the landscape seen past the wall. Jean expected him to turn to the Interior, a rare sight for non-important officials, yet Armin was looking to the familiar land within Wall Rose.
"This is all a bit difficult, I'll admit. Commander Erwin and the other leaders have been planning this for a whole year before they announced it to the public. Boats have had to be organised, accommodation built, all for this."
"I think it's idiotic. Why are they making us go through all this just to see a bunch of titans?"
Armin was not a threatening person. His face was a blend of borderline cherubic proportions and scrawny features to match his frame but he stood with an underlying intelligence that actually creeped Jean out.
"It seems pretty obvious to me," said Armin. "Regular people haven't seen a titan for over one hundred and five years. After so long some people have started to doubt their existence. I grew in Shiganshina, one of the southern outlying districts, so I know they're still there, yet they've almost devolved into myths for other people."
Jean remembered Hitch's attitude, then followed Armin's gaze to Wall Rose. Not that you could see it at this distance, Trost was only a wall away. Jean exhaled loudly. "Yeah. I never believed they could be gone either. I guess that's why I don't get this."
The blonde nodded. "I understand. To the general public it's nothing but a rare moment of entertainment even if it's something quite deeper to Commander Erwin, and the other leaders as well now I think about it. Peace within the Walls depends greatly on the masses being too grateful to disturb it."
Jean stared. "Who told you all this?" he demanded and Armin's eyes shot open in protest.
"What? No-one told me any of this. I-I just made observations."
The ashen-haired boy scoffed, arching an eyebrow. "Really? 'Cause if that's so then I doubt they'll let you stay around for much longer. People like you, the ones who think too much, tend to get arrested for treason."
Armin imitated a small animal in a trap very well. Jean's mouth opened and a cracking sound came out, a harsh imitation of laughter. It was as close as Jean was going to get. He liked Armin's expression, the proof he was as weak as he looked, and he hated himself for liking it, not that it changed that fact.
"It-It was all opinion. Nothing concrete at all," the smaller of the two stammered on. He looked ready to spend hours explaining the finer points of why and how he wasn't a traitor but Jean honestly didn't have the time or patience for any of that. Jean held up his hand in front of Armin's face and gestured for him to shut up.
"You need to learn to take things a little less seriously, Arlert," he said. Jean lowered his hand, pleased to see that Armin didn't seem any less scared. He straightened up and studied the blonde's expression out of the corner of his eye.
"Is this your job, staring at the civilians being herded through the gate?"
Armin shook his head. "No. It's my job to go with this first group to check that everything goes according to plan."
He looked terrified at the prospect. Something in Jean's mind clicked and the MP realised something important. After Thomas and now Armin, fate was bending itself towards Marco's killer's end.
"You're not military, are you?"
"No. I've never been the type of person who's cut out for fighting. Two of my friends joined up, they would have both joined the Scouts by now, but with things the way they are…" He paused, allowing the silence to prod at his thoughts. "I thought I'd be better out of the way." His voice lost volume with every word, becoming less for Jean's sake and more obviously for his own. "The population is growing so the people need someone to help organise it."
"So you can't fight," concluded Jean.
Armin shook his head.
"How do you intend to get to Wall Maria anyway? Even with a wagon, I doubt your horse could fight off the people who come to rob you."
"Rob me?"
"Face it. You're going to look like someone important enough to attack."
"Y-Yeah…"
"So that's why I'm offering to come along."
"What!?" Armin stepped back and stared with massive eyes at Jean, furiously working to assess whether the supposed Garrison was telling the truth.
"I'm not kidding. You need someone to protect you and I need to get to Wall Maria. It's a win-win situation, Arlert."
"But, what about the Garrison..?"
"I don't care. They won't notice I'm gone anyway." At least there was one truth he could add to the massive heap of lies he'd been building.
A bright blue scan worked its way down from Jean's own piercing eyes to his steadfast stance. It was obvious that Jean had motivations Armin couldn't work out yet. However, his words had dug up a needling fear in the back of Armin's mind. If Armin agreed, he was likely to get to his destination unharmed and understand why this Garrison Solider had offered him such a deal. If he refused, he would be attacked, by probable bandits or by Jean himself. If only he could travel along with the crowd he was monitoring but then he would be risking interference with his results.
Jean's eyes were hard. They asserted one thing; whether he wanted to or not, this was an offer Armin could not refuse. So, he nodded timidly.
"Thank you." Jean breathed deeply and looked around fervently. "When do you plan to leave?"
Armin's eyes flickered upwards in thought. "I shouldn't be any longer than thirty minutes. Since I'm supervising their journey I have to leave after everyone has left to gauge the effect it has on the surrounding people. The innkeepers, travellers, people who live near the trail," he elaborated.
"Good. It's a two-day journey, right?"
"Three day. We found that theoretically you could complete in it two days but that didn't leave enough time for breaks. The show starts in a week so the distance discrepancies shouldn't be a problem as long as they leave within the next three days. Different groups are being organised for each day of leaving but I've been told to look after this one."
"Good," he repeated, tuning out once again. Armin began to ramble about all the details about his orders and Jean stopped caring. Armin was his ticket out of here and the revelation that he was friends with two scouts was very welcome to hear. As weak as he looked, Jean suspected that he would need the mind beneath all of it one of these days.
They definitely weren't as numerous as the Garrison but the Scouts had their fair share of members so no matter what it would be difficult to locate Marco's murderer. For a moment, Jean wondered whether it was something they knew, one of the idiots who'd chosen the Scouting Regiment from training, but then he dismissed it. It was Wall Sina and very far off course. He doubted someone as new to the Scouts as he was to the Military Police would have that freedom. So, in a way, he was already closer to finding out who the killer was.
Armin walked around the Wall's gate for a while after that, talking about work with the Garrison while Jean avoided all contact with his supposed colleagues. It felt like more than the half hour Armin had promised but by the time Jean was introduced to their wagon, loaded with the trunks of Armin, the driver and another supervisor, he was pleased enough with it.
It occurred to him too late that he nothing to call his own on this journey. Wall Sina and Stohess had already faded into the distance, meaning the soldier could do nothing but seethe at his mistake. Growling, Jean crossed his arms and slouched against the short wooden surface stopping him from falling off as Renata Messman, the spindly woman joining them, almost did. There was a soft jangle and Jean froze. He didn't dare to check but later, after the sky had started to redden and the two civilians had fallen asleep, he fished into his pocket and found the small sack of gold coins.