Mask-An Attack on Titan Fan Fiction

Chapter Thirty-Five

"I do not tolerate tardiness, Larrson," the Corporal said as I stepped into his office. "I will not be so lax on your next offence. Understood?"

"Yes, sir."

The Corporal stood, adjusting the fit of his sleeves as he did so. As I looked at him, I tried to forget what had happened in the forest the previous evening.

"Now, Larrson," he instructed, "Today you shall be dusting the bookshelves as usual, and you shall also be cleaning the windows. They were streaky last time, and if they are again, you shall be here an extra hour so that I can teach you how to do it correctly. I also would like you to stack the papers in my cabinet over there. Do you think you can do that? Or do you feel too inadequate to perform these tasks?"

"I think I can manage, Corporal," I said simply. I retrieved the supplies from the cupboard and went to work.

The Corporal seemed less interested in my performance of my tasks than he had been the last time, and more engrossed in his work. It almost was as if I were simply white noise as I dusted and cleaned. I was relieved that he wasn't breathing down my neck, and so finished my jobs much more quickly than I had during my previous experience. I actually felt proud when I saw the neatly stacked papers and the shining windows. That is, until the Corporal looked up and gave me a look of disdain.

"You call those bookshelves clean, Larrson?"

"Yes, I do," I replied, annoyance bubbling inside of me.

"That is, truthfully, the most heart-rending cleaning job I have ever seen. And by heart-rending, I mean that I physically want to tear my heart from my chest because your performance is so horrendous."

"Wait, you have a heart, sir?" I snapped. I didn't even care that his eyes were flashing menacingly, or that his left eyebrow was twitching. I just wanted to get one victory, however small, over him after his painful lecture the previous night.

The Corporal stood sharply, the chair skittering backwards and bumping the wall with a thud.

"And you," he retorted, "Have a mouth, but apparently the words you say have no meaning because you have no brain."

Some victory.

"Stop testing my patience, Cadet," he snapped, "And go finish the job. Correctly."

I scowled and shuffled to the bookcases again. As I dusted, I was painfully aware of the fuming presence behind me. The Corporal didn't need to say anything to create tension; he bent the silence to his will and flung his daggers of silent disgust straight through me. I worked more vigorously, hands shaking as they clung, vice-like, to the duster. My irritation grew into anger as I noticed the dust simply settling back on the shelf.

I stopped, arms trembling. I couldn't understand how such a simple task had become so defeating. I stood there, just staring at the shelf, feeling my frustration mounting.

"Oi."

I turned around, burning hot rage billowing from my whole being.

"What?" I snapped, my voice breaking.

The Corporal uncrossed his arms and walked over, his heels making hollow clicking sounds on the wood. He wrested the duster from my grip and moved toward the shelf. On his tiptoes, he silently demonstrated the proper motions, and the shelf was spotless.

He handed the duster back to me and sat back down at his desk.

"I don't want to repeat myself," he said, "Do it right this time."

I mimicked the Corporal's movements, and soon, the shelves were clean. He came to inspect them and then turned to me.

"It's good to know that you're not a complete dimwit. You may go."