in the middle of the chaos | jean kirstein x fem!reader

19 | in the middle of the regiment choice

The cadets didn't have to fight anymore once the Survey Corps arrived. Together with the Garrison, they took out the remaining titans over the course of a day, without any more casualties. Two titans were captured for titan testing, and that was that. Trost was liberated. Humanity's first victory was secured.

It was achieved through the loss of 207 soldiers and the injury of another 897.

Trost still wasn't inhabitable. It was littered with bodies that had to be cleaned up so the civilians wouldn't be exposed to them. The cadets had to help, so Y/n walked around with a mask over her face and gloves on her hands, much like everyone else. She'd only helped carry about three bodies so far, but the more she had to carry, the more nauseous she felt. How do these people do it?

Rounding off a corner, Y/n's eyes spotted Jean's two-toned hair leaning on a wall, his hands hanging limply on his sides. Needing a break from all the blood and stench, she quickly walked over. ''Hey, Jean!''

He didn't look up. He didn't move. His eyes were stuck on the ground and he was so still, Y/n couldn't even tell if he was breathing.

''Jean?'' she asked again as she came to a stop in front of him. She could see his wide eyes, but the rest of his face was covered by a cloth. ''What happened?''

He slowly looked up. His eyes were red, but Y/n wasn't sure if it was due to crying or not blinking for a long time. A lump settled in her throat. ''Jean, what—''

''Marco . . .'' Jean said, his voice breaking a little. ''I found . . .''

She didn't need to hear more as her eyes widened and almost immediately watered. She brought one of her gloved hands to her clothed mouth, keeping the eye contact with Jean. ''No . . . No, you didn't. How could . . .?''

Jean shook his head. ''No one knows. His body . . . He looked horrible, Y/n. How . . . How did this happen?'' Jean asked, his eyes still wide, becoming even redder than before. ''He wasn't . . . He . . .''

Y/n didn't know what to say. She'd been close with Marco, of course, but not nearly as close as Jean had been. She pulled him in a hug despite still having her gloves in, holding him tightly as she rested her chin on his shoulder. She didn't cry, as much as she wanted to. She didn't have any tears left, really. But Jean didn't cry either. He simply wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly in-between the familiar streets of Trost, the two of them basking in the silence, trying to cope with the death of a friend.

''He was supposed to go to the interior tomorrow,'' Jean mumbled in her ear. ''He was supposed to work under the King like he'd wanted to. He was supposed to be honorable and all that bullshit.''

Y/n did shed a tear at that, but didn't make a sound as Jean silently started weeping in her shoulder.

Once we go to the MPs, this would never happen again. We would never have to grieve like this again. By tomorrow . . . everything will be different.

———

Bonfires were lit all around Trost in order to get rid of the bodies quicker. The stench of rotting flesh filled the air, but Y/n couldn't look away from the flames that burned her comrades' bones to ash.

Y/n stood next to Jean with her arms crossed, unable to look away from the orange flames. Marco was somewhere in there. She, Jean, Sasha and Connie had made it through the liberation of Trost, but Marco hadn't. Why hadn't he? Where had he gone? She was sure he'd been with them for most of the time. How had he gotten eaten?

Those titans . . . have to pay. But how would she make them pay if she was within Wall Sina, safe and never to see them again?

Connie was sobbing on the ground as he clutched his head.