COMRADES • Eren Jaeger

CHAPTER 1: Children

AS COMMANDER KEITH SHADIS WALKED AROUND screaming at the recruits, you took advantage of the moment to survey the faces of your new comrades. Even a seating arrangement could change the course of your life forever. You'd hate to say that it was a dramatization over a minuscule choice, but to live in the world meant tip-toeing a tightrope of life or death, and you weren't keen on taking the latter.

A large chunk of them looked adult already, tall as trees and sculpted like stone, but others did not have such an opulent quality of attractiveness to them. Many were thin, frail, with zero scars or bruises on their skin. Nothing about them spelled grit, and everything about the way they looked smelled like an inner wall.

You couldn't blame them, though. If you had the privilege of living in the inner wall, you'd probably be spotless every day of the week too.

Shadis' beady eyes passed over you. "Name and birthplace?"

"Y/N L/N, hailing from Beaurlin, sir."

"Beaurlin," he sneered. "Where the weaklings of Wall Rose hailed from? You look like a foddery little piece of pulp."

"Yes, sir."

"You think that just because you're some military man's juvenile you can strut around here like you're something?"

"I do not, sir."

"What are you?"

"A piece of pulp from Wall Rose, sir," you said.

Shadis' eyebrows knitted together and he moved onto the next cadet.

You dared to look around once more. A boy with freckles dotting his nose looked fearful, but a pretty young blonde was also doing her best. Standing in front of you was a brunette boy about your age. His green eyes were firmly trained on the spot above your head, like he wanted to look at anything else except you. You didn't care; you felt the same.

Shadis skipped him, the lucky bastard.

When the instructor moved out of view, you finally made eye contact. It was only for a brief moment, then it broke away.

"So, you're the one I'm bunking with?"

You looked dubiously down at a girl with cold, periwinkle eyes and pale blonde hair who was laying down on the mattress opposite yours on the bunk. She yawned, eyes heavy-lidded. She rolled on her side to face you.

"Annie Leonhart," she introduced herself lazily. "Guess you're saddled with me for the next few years."

"I guess so."

You were not used to sharing beds with someone else, much less a girl. There was little time to kill before supper, and down below the ladder of your bunk, you could hear your classmates chatting, already making acquaintances. You'd never really had many friends your age growing up. You dreaded having to speak to them — not because you were afraid or because you didn't like them, but simply because you were never taught how.

The fact that Annie Leonhart had seemed to doze off beside you did not quell any qualms either. How could she sleep so soundly? You pushed the door open to see boys.

"Oh, it's Beaurlin," the short one with the shaved head said upon seeing you. "Fancy you to join us."

You looked at the dusty track field, painted gold against the darkening rays of a drifting sun. "What's all the commotion here?"

"Look at her," the shaved one said, snickering as he pointed at a girl running on the track. Dust clouded underneath her shoes from how much she began to sag. "The girl who stole the potato is crazy. She'd rather run till she's dead than miss dinner."