Chapter 21

Shower water runs down my legs in steady pattering streams. I close my eyes and tilt my head back, combing my fingers through the hair that seems to grow persistently. With my neck exposed and bared like this, I can feel the ends of my hair almost tickling the bottom of my rib cage. It would do me good to cut this hair, rather than keep it, given how tumultuous our training regime is quickly becoming.

It's funny, though. A year ago this kind of physical exertion would have been unthinkable. The girl who had to scrape together every ounce of strength just to climb a cliff face would be in awe of the person she's become. I can feel my body warping, morphing into a peculiar form. Before enlisting, I was an uncut gem, a ragged stone. Little by little, day by day, the chisel and hammer have set themselves against me and cracked away at all my weakness, all my failings.

I raise a dripping hand and run it over my bicep, feeling the first beginnings of true muscle underneath my touch. I flex and find childish glee in the way the attributes I've worked so hard to develop ripple throughout my arm. My scores on the quizzes are no better than they were before, but at least I can brave the physical tests with my head held high. Most days.

I turn the water off and stand there for a moment, dripping wet. The inside of my head is calm. I've distanced myself almost fully from the people that stand to irk me, and the transition from spring to summer was all the better for it. Now, a year has passed since I stood at attention with the likes of Eren, Mikasa and Armin, and was welcomed into the 107th division. Soon, I'll be eighteen. I can't explain why the thought of turning that particular age makes the front of my chest and gut churn.

I wring my hair out and step out of the shower, toweling dry while the next girl in line claims the spot I've just relinquished. I retreat to my bunk for my comb. Mina and Christa are sitting on the edge of the bed, chatting while packing their things. Peering out the window grants me no gauge of the current time; we're up earlier than normal, officer's orders.

The second I walk over, the two of them pause, smile, and resume their ministrations. "Took you long enough," Mina teases, waving me over. "Here. Let me do your hair."

"If you want," I shrug. I scrub at my skin a little quicker than I ought, leaving flushes of red where it's the softest. Christa glances my way, but averts her attention after giving me a once-over. The corner of my lip tilts up; Ymir must truly be something.

I bend over the bed, reaching for neutral brasserie, one that's comfier than the rest due to my favoritism. I wrangle my breasts into their support, slip on my underwear, and rifle around my belongings for today's outfit. Without knowing what the training will look like, I opt for comfort and function, picking my slightly faded brown pants and a pale blue top. I scrunch the sleeves up to pool at the elbows before sitting on the ground in front of Mina.

While she detangles my hair, I listen to the sounds of the other trainees in our cabin shaking off their sleep and rushing to get ready. My inability to get a full night's rest allowed me and Mina to wake sooner than most and get good spots in the shower line, so at least we're nearly ready to go. Some people are still roaming about like drowsy snails, creeping their way to wash and leaving trails of filth behind them. Mina takes her time, eking out each tangle with care. I hear Christa's pearly laughter chime out from somewhere behind the shell of my right ear.

"Goodness, Mina. You'd make a good maid, if a noble ever hired you."

The comb against my scalp pauses for a second. I miss its movement immediately. "You think so?"

Christa hums thoughtfully for a second, considering her genuine response while I feel Mina shift closer, exchanging the comb for her nimble fingers. "I do. It's probably a nicer way of life than anything we'll see out here, at least."

It's probably only sheer coincidence that I hear what Mina whispers under her breath, the fleeting trace of the first dark sentiment she's ever shared. "…you'd be surprised."

"Hm?" I say, without really even thinking. The hands in my hair freeze, then relocate to the sides of my head in order to single out the best strands near my temples.

"I was just saying that I agreed with Christa," she reassures me, but the blatant lie stands out before me all the same.

I lapse into silence, unable to shake the way the disconnect between those two sentences makes me feel. I'm curious to know more about the trainee I sleep next to. As a friend, as a confidant. Do I deserve that kind of proximity with someone, though? Haven't all of my attempts to foster connections faded and backfired on me?

Then again, when was I truly being genuine? The warriors, Eren, Jean…haven't I just been using my ideas of them to serve me as I see fit? My preconceived notions have formed holes in which I expect everyone to fit. I have no right to be upset when their personhood is too vast for my narrowmindedness.

I'm ashamed of my conduct, of my distance, of my impertinent refusal to open up in genuine heart. My chest pangs. I swallow, closing my eyes, trying to listen to what my body is trying to tell me. It is almost as if my very being wants to reject even so much as the thought of full vulnerability.

What am I so afraid of?

"You heard me, didn't you?"

I jolt back to reality, opening my eyes and glancing over my shoulder. My scalp feels tight in some places as I do, but I don't mind. Just then I felt like I needed to see her, to confirm that she's okay. To my surprise, Christa seems to have slipped away while I was lost in thought.

But Mina, hands tangled up in my hair and a kind, patient smile on her face, doesn't seem perturbed in the slightest. If anything, it almost seems like she's waiting for me to confirm that I heard her. Waiting, almost, for me to ask what she meant.

"I did," I confess. "But I don't quite understand."

Her smile grows wider; a faint reward for reading her disposition correctly. "Face forward, and I'll tell you a story."

I do as I'm told. And she does reward me: as her fingers weave my hair into place, braiding both sides from my temples to meet at the nape of my neck, Mina speaks in a low voice that guarantees our words won't leave this delicate space we've carved out for ourselves. It reminds me of twin birds in a nest, flocked by myriad branches and leaves all around, yet somehow still distinct from the tree.

"For the last three generations, my family has served one of the noble houses over in the capital. They're not a grand house by any means, but enough so that we were paid equitably and treated fairly. What they lack in wealth they more than make up for in terms of their connections. It's said that they were very close with King Fritz."

"The king?" That surprises me. Of all the people here, Mina having a past serving a family closely affiliated with Paradis royalty is the one that feels most surprising to me. "I never would've guessed." Genuinely, I had no clue. My notes never mentioned anything about her, other than–

I go rigid all over.

Mina's death. Not now, of course, but at some lofty battle that's supposed to happen over in the Trost District. If what I wrote about is real, then that means she'll meet an untimely end, far from the capital and the loved ones she left behind.

Clueless to my thoughts, she lets out an amused exhale. "I know it must sound preposterous. That's why I never said anything about it. I was worried that the first question out of everyone's mouths would be, 'so how did you wind up here?'" Mina's fingers twitch, clenching involuntarily against my head. "I didn't want everyone to think I was greedy or dissatisfied."

Carefully, I box up all of my thoughts and stow them away to be addressed later. There is nothing I can do about a potential future at the moment. What I can do for Mina right now is not to obsess over her demise, but to be there for her as someone she can open up to. "But you were, weren't you? Dissatisfied."

She draws in a steady breath. "Yes. The current heir-apparent was just three years before I was. As we were close in age, I was originally assigned as one of his maids. He was compassionate, and got along well with everyone at the manor. But after he started turning away from childhood and into boyhood, he became especially interested in our friendship. I believe he had no ill intent. But soon his favoritism began to show, and the help had a tendency to gossip…"

I can see where the story is set to go. There's an ache in me to stop its course, to alter past and predestination. But of course fate surges on without me.

"The lord caught wind of what was being said. He had his son tailed in secret, followed whenever he left the manor. Of course, neither of us knew of it at the time. That's why I didn't realize what a grave error we'd made until the heir confessed, and I, swept up in the moment, did not immediately bow down and express my inability to accept his feelings. He took my silence as hesitation, and kissed me carefully. Next thing I knew, the spy reported everything to the lord and I was drawn into his study, given severance, and dismissed before I could even collect my belongings or explain what was happening to my parents."

"Oh, Mina," I whisper.

"I used what little money I was given to come and enlist. I figured, perhaps if I could earn high marks and become a top cadet, I could be stationed in the capital under the military police. That way, at least, I could see my parents with my head held high and reassure them that I'm alright."

With one last flourish, Mina's hands extract themselves from my hair. I let my fingertips rove over her work, inspecting the braided updo she's bestowed upon me. "Thank you," I say first, buying time to spin around and face her. Her eyes aren't sparkling with merriment like they normally are. But they're not wholly drowned in sadness, either. There's determination set in her expression and a kind of calm that speaks to the maturation she must've developed since being cast out. Truly remarkable. "Do they know what happened to you?"

It feels like the wrong question at first, seeing her lips curve downwards into a fragile frown. "I have no idea. The lord didn't bat an eye as I was escorted out, crying, asking what would become of my parents. All he said was that it was an internal affair and as such need not be disclosed to someone who was now an outsider." When her face shifts back into that determined mode of hers, though, I realize that this is what she needed all along: someone with which to confirm her existence. She must've been carrying that secret all along, suffering from the weight of knowing everything and being incapable of telling the people who matter most to her.

I stand up, brush off my pants, and extend my hand to her. Mina takes it and I help her to her feet, reaching for our ODM gear sets. I grab the belts and straps first, handling hers over before retrieving my own. "Tell me about the heir."

It's painfully obvious the way she lights up, but not in the way I expected her to. It's obvious she thought well of him. I listen to the light tone of her voice as I quickly strap in, anxious to hear her story but reluctant to drag the weight of the gear around my body for today's mystery training. "He was a good person. The epitome of his lineage, really. Bright and intelligent. Courteous to even the lowest of the servants."

Mina catches the question in my eyes before I can even open my mouth.

"It was unrequited," she smiles, almost like she wants to laugh at me for even asking. "I don't like blondes, I'm afraid. I was so caught off guard by his sudden confession that I thought for a second I could entertain him. But after we kissed–after I ended up all the way out here–I realized he wasn't right for me at all."

I think of the name I heard her murmur in her sleep, but for now, I keep my thoughts to myself. She's shared so much with me; this, for now, is more than enough.

Where the center of my chest once ached, a peculiar buzzing warmth now replaces it. The tingling sensation that comes from listening to the story of another and from allowing the kind of proximity to confess to these sorts of things makes me almost elated. More surprising, though, is the way I find myself aching to return the favor: to share something of my own, secrets substantial enough to make Mina feel as close to me as I now do to her.

I sinch up my last strap and don my ODM set just as my fellow trainee does the same next to me. She pats her empty blade holders with her hands and beams. "Ready to go?"

We file out of the cabin, merging with the rest of the 107th. Several open-aired wagons have been lined up, horses already hooked up and officers at the ready. This time I'm careful to deliberately choose seating that won't put me in an awkward position. I end up riding with many of the people I've come to form amiable connections with: Ymir and Christa on the bench across from me, with Mina at my side and Mikasa at my other. There's hardly any male trainees in this wagon, and that puts me at ease. No troublemakers in sight.

We set out almost as soon as we're settled in, the wheels rattling over the road and almost lulling me to sleep. Instead I focus on the ebb and flow of the conversation in our wagon, keeping my ears turned inwards even as my eyes turn outwards. As I watch the sky slowly begin to lighten, a thought occurs to me. I nudge Mina with my elbow and lean in close to her ear.

"What was the name of the noble house?"

Mina seems a little surprised by the question, but not out of suspicion. If anything, she just looks caught off guard. "Tybur. Why?"

Something inside of me flips at the sound of that name, but I can't place it. "Sounds familiar," I confess, even if I'm not sure why I admitted to that. Maybe they were in the paper recently? "I just figured that I can keep an eye out for you too. That way, if I'm ever in the capital and I catch wind of them, I can get word of you to your parents."

Mina's eyes soften, and she gives me a quick peck on the cheek. "That would mean the world to me. My parents are Bram and Lina. And if you have to send word via a household name, use Emil, not Ernst. Emil is the heir's name. Ernst is the lord."

"Will do." Mina bumps her shoulder against mine, silently concluding our business. When I glance back at the sky, it looks livelier than usual.

The sunrise bursts across the horizon by the time we enter the village. Its abandonment is evident in the way that all hollow things are, like a cave or a giant awning. The absence of human life is soon rectified by our arrival, with trainees and officers alike milling about from the very instant the wagons lurch to a halt. We filter into ranks, shifting into position, lining up for inspection. The officers filter through our lines, scrutinizing every inch of our performances, randomly reaching out to yank down on the blade sheathes to ensure that we've suited up properly. Finally, they retreat to the sides, and the glistening bald head of Keith Shadis romps into view.

"Listen up, runts! Today you'll be running an obstacle course. We've set this village up to prepare trainees like you for navigating airfields in the districts. You'll need to know how to weave through the air seamlessly without stopping, how to change paths mid-flight, and dodge obstacles." As Shadis booms his instructions and begins to walk through our ranks, I glance over at the village to try and see if I can predict just how difficult this course will prove to be. I'm not running on a lot of sleep, and while I'm not feeling particularly exerted today, there's no guarantee that my body will stay this way. Exhaustion can set in at any time. "Each and every one of you will run the course three times. No one leaves here today until then. If a single foot touches the ground, start your run over. If you hit an obstacle, start your run over. Officers will be posted along the entirety of the course to ensure no one cheats. Understood?"

My voice blends in with the rest of the trainees, a well-seasoned chorus of discipline. "Yes sir!"

"Good." Shadis pauses to look as many people in the eye as he can. He does not meet mine. "You'll do the course without blades. Your performance today will determine whether or not you'll be issued your first set later this week."

That sets shoulders back in rippling waves all throughout our division. This entire time, we've been carrying empty blade sheaths and handles. The thought of being awarded the final piece to our ODM sets based on merit is actually pretty enticing.

Realistically, I know that I'm no Mikasa Ackerman. Hell, I'm not even an Armin. If it's based on performance, it's unlikely that I'll be able to get my blades after one day of running the course. The blood thrumming in my ears starts to churn in a rapid course, drumming a battle cry, readying me.

And then I see the officers crack out notebooks.

This time, I end up being one of the people who catches Shadis's eye. "Oh–and one more thing."

He grins.

"Starting today, we're keeping score."

A/N: Guys it has been a WILD week, sorry about the late upload! My deadline to finalize my research paper before it gets pushed for publication is in *checks watch * NINE DAYS SEBGIUBDSKKL so I've been busy with that. Also lowkey this is just me info dumping because I didn't have therapy this week but the detective handling my case is reaching out to my enemies as we speak to collect their statements and it is practically taking over all of my thoughts lol. Not to mention work has been bananas but that's a story for another day.

Anyways, wish this chapter could be longer, but I have to go to work! Sorry and much love xoxox mwuah