Naive and Damned

Chapter 8: A New Perspective

Jean

"Sorry kid, but it's not happening." it was blunt, intentionally so. Jean did not want to take a child from his home anymore than any sane person would – especially knowing what would happen to the internment zone – regardless, it was necessary.

"But, you need to get in contact with Eren as soon as you can, right?" Falco insisted, "you said it yourself, attacking the internment zone is a bad idea for your home, too!"

"It's better than risking those plans leaked to the Marleyan Government and loosing the founding titan." he tried to explain again, even when the determination in the boy's eyes made it clear he would get nowhere.

What a strange kid.

Jean hadn't missed how devastated he'd been, not only because of Zeke, but over Eren, too. Cleary Eren had befriended him somehow, or at least earned his favour.

At the very least, he could empathise with the kid. He still remembered the feeling of finding out about Annie, then Reiner and Berthold; the pain and the confusion such betrayals caused. Zeke had been acting for years, no doubt close to the warrior group... even those on Paradis didn't fully understand him.

So why was Falco so quick to trust him, and island devil, after all of that?

"I wouldn't say anything. I don't want war. Or for Marley to attack Paradis at all... it's the Eldian soldiers that always take the brunt of war anyway. Please believe me, if I can help to have this end peacefully, I will. I don't even want Mister Yeager to be eaten, not really."

Jean sighed, a little lost on what to say – repeating he couldn't take that risk was surely meaningless when Falco was so insistent on helping him... or saying that he could help him in order to escape back home (Jean knew, though, the former was the truth). They'd simply repeat themselves all over.

Noting his silence, the boy sighed too. "Okay. I'll ask again in the morning."

"My answer won't change."

Jean was offered a sad smile. "I know. I'll still try, though."

*

Jean strolled down the road, hands in his pockets as he watched the warrior cadet, walk ahead of him towards the Military Headquarters, turning a corner where Jean would soon keep walking forward.

Loosing track of the boy, Falco Grice, sealed it – they were moving forward with this bizarre plan.

Only a few hours ago, Jean had sat down with Falco to discuss what exactly the boy had in mind. It was long and stressful, ending in him penning a letter (with Falco present) explaining the situation to his squad and commander Hange Zoe: a person he'd come to respect for their openness and intelligence. Their eccentric nature seemed to find joy in living on the edge, of danger being at their heels all hours of the day. More than ever, he hoped that quality of theirs stayed strong as it was four years ago, lest this idea be called out for what it was – an incompetent, desperate gamble.

As the letter left his grasp and fell into the post-box, Jean couldn't say he'd come to understand that thrill-seeking nature. This insane premise of trusting a warrior candidate with this key information, even to enable him to walk straight to his superiors and tell them everything, reminded him of four years ago. Of the feeling he got when Armin announced some insanely risky plan or when he was ordered to do something only a suicidal maniac would actually obey. The pit of dread in his stomach he forced down in order to follow through, anticipating what was to come with as much bravery as he could hope to muster.