𝐈𝐋𝐒𝐄'𝐒 𝐉𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐀𝐋.ʜᴀɴᴊɪ ᴢᴏᴇ̈

『 𝟐 』𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐉𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐀𝐋

𝐓𝐇𝐔𝐑𝐒𝐃𝐀𝐘, 𝐌𝐀𝐘 𝟔𝐓𝐇, 𝟖𝟒𝟕 𝐀𝐓 𝟏𝟗:𝟓𝟏

⸺⸺⸺⸺⸺⸺⸺⸺⸺⸺

  You stirred your bean soup in a mindless thought, not really paying attention to the way the tasteless beans twirled around your metal spoon in the liquid. Resting your cheek in your hand, you matched a lot of the other soldiers in the Mess Hall -no one was ever really happy when coming back from an expedition, the amounts of lives lost always weighing down on everyone; it didn't even matter if no one you knew died, it all hurt. In fact, sometimes it hurt more when no one you knew died because when you find that out, the relief you had felt at first often morphs into guilt because of said relief; after all, someone somewhere is mourning the loss, and it's rather selfish of you to be glad it wasn't you or your friends.

  So it always ended up hurting a lot, no matter the outcome.

  Well, it usually did. Typically, you would be feeling more downcast than you currently felt, but you couldn't get your mind off what had happened before, 'Just what was in that journal? It couldn't have been that mind-blowing, right?' you tried to postulate a reasonable answer in your head, but you could never think of one that satisfied you -there was always some sort of counter against it, whether it was too outlandish, not outlandish enough, or just didn't make sense as to why Ilse would have written it in her journal. It wasn't just the notebook you had been wondering about though, for the past few hours you couldn't help the countless questions that formed in your head about titans in general that came from your theories, 'There's just so much we don't know about them, where they come from, how they reproduce, hell, we don't even know how their bodies disappear.' You felt yourself frown a little at your own lack of answers.

  Picking your head up, you placed your utensil on the lip of the tiny bowl your -now mostly cold- soup was in and threw a glance over to the table where Erwin, Miche Zacharius, Dita Ness, Hanji and Levi sat, seeing that they also seemed to be more quiet than usual -just like your table here with Gunther, Eld, Oluo and Petra. Without any interest, you picked up a roll on your tray and took a small bite out of it, 'I have to start with that journal... How in the world am I going to find out what was in it though...' you thought as you swallowed and took a bigger bite this time, 'It's not like I can just waltz into Hanji's office and find the stupid thing...'

  You sighed as you started to chew on the bread, before your eyebrows raised and your eyes widened, 'For the love of Sina, that's it! Hanji's here eating dinner for once, I can just go in and see what it is now!'

  Unfortunately for you, during your excitement, you accidentally swallowed a bite that you weren't done chewing -causing your hands to fly up to your neck as you seemingly hacked your lungs up. The four others at your table casted worried glances your way, and you even managed to gather the attention of a few other soldiers at different tables, "Are you ok there, (Y/N)?" Gunther asked in worry. You only nodded your head, unable to do much as your irritated throat made you cough even after you had managed the bread down; you also gave him a thumbs-up, trying to convince him that you were honestly ok and not currently dying -despite what it may have looked like. Taking your hand, you grasped the cool glass cup -that remained unaffected by your coughing fit- and brought it to your lips, trying to soothe your throat.

  After a few moments had passed, you finally calmed your throat down, looking down in embarrassment, 'Well... that was humiliating, to say in the least.' Placing your cup down back on the wooden table -producing a dull click sound when the two met- you wiped your hand that was damp from the condensation on your white pants. 'I think that'll make a reasonable excuse to leave dinner early though.' you thought to yourself optimistically in realisation, soon after using your voice to put your makeshift plan into action.