Mask-An Attack on Titan Fan Fiction

Chapter Ten

The next day, we were briefed on the ceremonial process of graduation. We were told where we would stand, what we would say, and what would happen after we made our choices. It basically was a time for Shadis to go ham and scare the crap out of us before we became "real soldiers".

"You double decker pig farts are leaving tomorrow," Shadis warned, "But if you start getting cocky too quickly, you have no idea how quickly you will be devoured."

"What does that even mean?" I heard Marco Bott whisper.

"SILENCE, CADET BOTT!"

Shadis had heard him. Fists met table with a resounding crash.

Marco jumped and blushed cherry red, muttering an apology.

Jean chuckled and leaned back in his chair. En groaned at the noise and sank his head down onto the flat surface.

Shadis caught sight of him.

"WAKE UP, YOU YELLOW BELLIED MAGGOT!!!!"

En jumped about a foot in the air, moaning about his headache.

"I DON'T GIVE A RAT'S FART ABOUT YOUR HEAD, CADET AZMAN. IT'S YOUR OWN FAULT YOU GOT BLOODY WASTED LAST NIGHT!"

I covered my mouth, trying to stifle a laugh, then choked as Shadis turned on me.

"YOU THINK THIS IS FUNNY, LARRSON?"

"Um, just a bit," I said, desperately trying to mask my grin.

"DOES A NIGHT OF LAVATORY DUTY SOUND FUNNY TO YOU, LARRSON?"

"No, Sir, it does not. Sir."

"Lavatory duty it is for you, then, Cadet Larrson."

"What?" I planted my face in my hands. My final evenings as a trainee would be spent scrubbing piss stains off the toilet seats. Just my luck.

We were eventually dismissed for lunch and given wall patrol duty after we ate. This was our first assignment we were responsible for as soldiers, even though we graduated that evening. I ate as quickly as possible. I didn't want to miss an opportunity to test out my future job as a Garrison member.

There it was. The odd, sickening sensation I had each time I thought about joining the Garrison. I took a swig of water. The Garrison was the most logical option for me to join; it was the one branch of the military that actually appealed to me; it offered me protection from my father. So why did I feel physically ill every time I thought about joining?

Eren passed me, looking around for someone to sit with.

"Eren," I called, waving him over.

"Hey, Igor," he replied, "What's up?"

"You're joining the Scouting Legion, right?"

He nodded, his eyes burning. "Absolutely."

"And you have no apprehensions at all? Because I'm starting to rethink my plans."

"I thought you wanted to join the Garrison."

"I do," I said, grimacing against the oncoming nausea, "It's just that every time I start thinking about joining, I feel sick."

"That's definitely odd," Eren admitted.

"Yeah," I said, "Do you think I should go see a medic?"

Eren pondered this question. "If it gets worse, I suppose you should get it checked out. Is it going to interfere with our work today?"

"I don't think so. Thanks, mate."

Eren shrugged in response. He was summoned by Armin at that moment, so he nodded in farewell and went to join his two friends.