Chapter 11

Christa covers her mouth with one hand, shoulders warbling like a bird's throat as she tries and fails not to make her laughter obvious. "It's just…so…"

I groan and bury my face in my hands. "That bad?"

She nods. The water splashes around us as girls hop in and out of the showers. We step up in line. "I'm afraid so."

I swear lightly under my breath. The line shuffles again, reminding me of the slow ambulatory crawl of the ration lines I used to stand in with Eren, Armin and Mikasa. "Great."

Christa knocks her elbow into mine. "Guess we should've kept a better eye on you."

I snort. "No, I had this coming." I rub my neck idly. "I wasn't thinking straight to begin with. It's just my luck that I got carried away with the guy who leaves bruises in his wake."

Christa tilts her head as she glances to that place where my neck meets my shoulder. "I wouldn't say bruises. More like…"

"Hickeys," I interject. "I know, I know."

"At least it's only two of them?"
I groan again.

I find myself twisting my Efa's wedding ring idly as I make my way out of the cabin. My feet take the track of their own accord, walking briskly along the path my muscles have nearly committed to memory. I breathe deeply and start jogging, lightly. The morning air is sharp, frigid, ice in my lungs. But it feels good. It's crisp and clear, the foil to the fog from last night. My anger is gone, for now, replaced by faint embarrassment and, more importantly, resolve. I refuse to let the warriors get to me again. They will not get under my skin. They will not sway me, will not have the satisfaction of knowing how deeply their actions yesterday perturbed me.

I stop jogging when I begin to feel the itch, the burn in my legs. I shift to walking, eyes cast critically around the place I've spent the last few months in. I need a plan. The warriors know my secret, or at least what they perceive it to be. They have my medicine. I still need to avoid Armin as much as possible, before he puts two and two together. I think again of Jean, of him with plum-colored wine dripping down his Adam's apple and grimace. Probably best to avoid him, too. The last thing I want is to have an awkward conversation about my not-so-sober actions.

What, then, to do? Is it best to lie low, to let the warriors have their control, to focus instead on improving myself?

Perhaps that is the thing to do. Even the thought of just…lying down and letting them hold my own damn medicine captive makes me wince. But what else am I to do? I can't read. Can't fight. Hell, I can't even jog the full length of the encampment without gasping like a fish out of water.

I've been in this body, in this life, for just about half the time that Aliva had in it. Already I'm so frustrated with my own shortcomings that I feel them to be impossible to see around. Would it be easier, if I had no memories of my previous existence? I wouldn't know the way it feels to wake up with a chest that doesn't permanently ache. I wouldn't have to know that envy, that inequality. Or would it be worse–I wouldn't know what I am capable of. Wouldn't have the drive to work towards feeling better, even if only incrementally so.

My question has no answer.

If it does, I am too much of a coward to address it. So I hold onto my memories like stones in a river, keeping their image at the forefront of my mind. I know the second that I reach for them, they will warp and waver, disconfigure themselves as the water's surface ripples and their location eschews itself from my sight. Still I cannot help but look. Cannot help but delude myself into thinking that as long as I remember their positions well enough, I can find them even as my motions unmask the mirage.

I head into the mess hall. The tables are decently full, trainees filtering in like attentive flies to unprotected spreads of food. I get a glass of water, an end of bread, something like sweet pumpkin oatmeal. I bring the gruel over to the only table that matters to me. My eyes don't stray from the back of Reiner's head. Something in me flushes with the shame of picturing myself, placating across the table from the man built like an ox for a drop or two of medicine.

I am so preoccupied with my self-absorption that I don't notice the mangy brunette seated next to Reiner until I sit across from the two boys.

Eren glares the second I sit down. Reiner glances up, clears his throat. "Good m–"

"What do you think you're doing?"

I resist turning my head towards Eren, instead opting to coax a dollop of the oats onto my spoon and into my mouth. Hm. Tastes better than I was expecting, honestly.

"I haven't the slightest clue what you mean." I take another spoonful. Suddenly I'm aware of how hungry I am.

Eren's fingers twitch against the table. "Don't play coy with me, Aliva."

I shovel spoonful after spoonful into my mouth. "I wasn't aware the mess hall had a seating chart, Yeager."

I catch his eye for a second, only to notice his gaze flick downward. Ah. "Oh, that?" I catch Reiner glancing between the two of us as I shift, resting my chin on one hand as I continue to eat. "Just a little bit of fun. That's all."

"I don't believe you."

I laugh; I can't help it. "Maybe I was just a little drunk. Maybe I'm just a flirt who can't help but–"

Eren reaches across the table, yanks on the arm that was holding my chin and dislodges it. For a moment I freeze, go pliant, my other hand dropping my spoon and flying up to my cheek. But all he does is shake my wrist, shake my hand. The wedding ring catches in the light as he makes my fingers dance in the air. "It's not just that. This…isn't the Aliva I know."

I choke.

The hand on my cheek slaps the table, nails digging into the grain as I cough. Reiner's eyes widen and he grabs his cup, pushes it towards me–clever boy–and murmurs, "here, drink this," as I pick the glass up and try taking a small sip. It doesn't taste quite like medicine. Doesn't taste quite like water. I sputter regardless, setting the glass down as I choke down the oats. My throat burns. My eyes prickle.

Eren watches.

He says nothing. He doesn't need to. The trainee next to me, some face I dimly remember from a background shot somewhere, pats the heel of their hand between my shoulder blades. I try another sip of Reiner's water.

When I can breathe straight again, I guzzle the rest of it down. Send Reiner a half-hearted apology for drinking his water; offer him mine. Exchange completed. But still, Eren watches. Hawk-sharp eyes never leave my face. They burn green, inquisitive and offensive.

Armin's intelligence is subtle. The kind that sneaks up on you when you least expect it.

Mikasa's strength is constant. The kind that lurks semipermanently in the corner of your eye, to reassure allies and haunt enemies.

And Eren's oaths…Eren's resolve…is terrifying.

This man–no, this boy–commands the story. The universe bends to his whims, to the trio of children I continue to trail behind. All of Eren's promises were fulfilled on pain of death. To protect those he loved. To free them. To destroy all the titans.

If he gets it in his head that I am his enemy, well and truly…I am done for.

I glance down at the wedding ring. Efa's kind, soft face smiles down at me in my memory. Her words circle back, vultures and tides, ebbing and surging.

"You'll only have each other, from now on. Treat each other kindly. For Carla and I."

Oh how they would weep, to see us now.

I wipe the corner of my mouth. My voice feels low, dangerous. "So I've changed. I can't possibly fathom why that would matter to you."

Eren's scowl redoubles its efforts to stitch his eyebrows together. "You don't get to be angry."

"I wasn't aware you owned the emotion."

"You don't deserve anger."

I miss Carla.

Is that weird? I only knew her for a year. But Eren…Eren knew her for eleven.

I stay silent. I have no comeback. No more anger to misplace. I've spent it all, between yesterday and today. I've made a fool of myself.

When it becomes apparent that I have nothing to say for myself, Eren scoffs and pushes back from the table. He takes his bowl and storms off.

My oats are cold.

AN: Short chapter, I know, but I want to give this scene the weight its due rather than squish it into what's coming up here soon. So enjoy the little back-to-back updates for now!

Also, thanks so much for the lovely reviews on the story! I don't know why, but I didn't get notified when they were posted. So I only saw them just yesterday! I'm so glad that people are enjoying the story so far!