'Just Be' [Jean x Tsundere!Reader] - Part 21

---'Just Be': Part 21---

A half-conscious Armin Arlert awoke to the motions of being shaken.  Violently.  Through the haze of his catatonic state, Connie Springer's face began to sharpen into focus.

The other boy's voice was frantic.  Alarmed.  The words reached his ears, but to Armin they were incoherent.  As he sat there staring hollowly into space, the memories suddenly came flooding back with full force...

He began to relive every waking moment of it ...One by one, his comrades fell to the Titans.  Thomas had been swallowed whole before his eyes.  Nack had collided headfirst into a giant hand and exploded into a mass of gore.  Mina's head had been crushed in the maw of her captor.  Millius had been bitten in half.

And you... the last Armin had ever seen of you was when you were being swarmed by Titans on all sides, until you were covered completely and utterly from view.

...And then... there was Eren...

"RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!!"

Connie backpedaled as Armin let out a half-crazed, ghastly scream at the top of his lungs, begging for everything to end.  Begging for death.

As he broke down into quiet, agonized weeping, Ymir began to mutter darkly.

"Honestly... out of all the people they've slaughtered so far, this weak little runt managed to escape death?" Her tone was both bitter and incredulous.  "I would have expected someone like Jaeger or [Last] to emerge triumphantly from the depths of hell.  ...Not this poor excuse for a soldier."

Connie reacted with anger, and Christa was aghast at her callousness.  

But Armin, barely reacting, found himself agreeing with her.  Huddled over in a miserable heap, the boy was wracked with shame, guilt, and grief... over the fact that so many had lost their lives when he should have died with them.

Ymir was right.  You didn't deserve this.  Neither did Eren.  How in the world was he going to face Jean or Marco now? ...Or worse yet... Mikasa?

---

With the last of the citizens evacuated, the signal to retreat began to sound.  

Mikasa Ackerman left the Rearguard to rejoin her fellow Cadets, effortlessly cutting down all opposition.  Nothing would stand in the way between her and the one person she was looking for.  

The clouds churned overhead.  The city grew dark.  Within a matter of seconds, the rain began to fall in a heavy, torrential downpour.  Gutters and drain pipes began to flood.  So did the building alleyways.  

But Mikasa was not to be stopped.  Only one thing was on her mind, and that was Eren's safety.  Through the storm she continued to search, hiding her desperation behind a stoic veneer.

Somewhere along the way, she began to think of you, and found herself wondering not only if you had managed to keep your promise... but also, if you too had managed to survive.

---

"Christa, we have to go now," Ymir's tone was filled with impatient urging.  Her hair dripped with rain under the blasted torrent.  "There's nothing we can do here.  Let's save our own skins and escape!"

The small blonde was also soaked to the skin from head to toe...and yet she continued to fume.  To call Christa stubborn right now was saying the absolute least.  "But... the others...! We can't just leave them here! We have to help them!"

"What help can you possibly hope to be if you run out of gas like the rest of them?" Ymir snapped, looking genuinely anxious this time.  "Think of yourself for once, for crying out loud!"

Christa shook her head obstinately.  "No, Ymir.  There has to be something we can do.  [First] would never abandon us like this!"

"Yeah well, you and [First] are both bloody fools," Ymir muttered sourly under her breath.  She gritted her teeth, trying to find a roundabout.  Honestly, this girl was going to be the death of her one day.  

"Listen... Christa," Ymir said firmly.  "We have to go over the Wall.  If you want to help the others, survive first.  Think about it.  The supply mission has failed.  There's no way we'll be able to deliver fuel like this."

Christa was on the verge of tears.  Her blue eyes gazed with worry towards the cadets who were starting to converge together on the roofs.  Time was running out, but there was nothing she could do.

...Or was there?

"Ymir," she finally said, in an equally firm voice.  "I'll go with you over the Wall, but on one condition."

"Yeah?" Ymir asked suspiciously, narrowing her eyes.  "What is it?"

"We're going back," Christa demanded, eyes bright.  "We'll get the gas from the outpost at Gate Rose, return to Trost, and help everyone escape.  Take it or leave it, Ymir.  There's no way I'm leaving our friends otherwise."

Ymir stared at her incredulously, then shook her head.

"Bull-headed and foolish to the last," she growled.  And then, she smirked her amusement.  "Well.  When you say it like that, what other choice do I have?"

[First].... she thought, in a manner that was half annoyed, half endeared.  Take a look at how much you've corrupted this girl.  This is your influence at work, after all.

---

Somewhere in the depths of Trost, a loud and deafening noise tore through the sky like thunder, startling several Cadets out of their wits.

...Most dismissed it as being part of the accursed rainstorm.  And yet, there were more than a handful that remarked on how that sudden noise resembled a feral cry.

...It was a voice that was human, yet inhuman... bellowing forth with an unbridled rage that echoed beyond the wall, and into the sky itself.

---

By the time the day faded into the afternoon, the rain finally stopped.  Dark, foreboding clouds continued to mar the sky.  There was yet still no light.  No sun.  No warmth.  It was as though all of Trost was cloaked in shadow.  The city was as silent as death, save for the occasional scream, and the lumbering footfalls of the Titan infestation.  

The surviving cadets huddled together as a group.  Every single one of them was either in shock or in mourning over their lost comrades.  Tired, miserable, and harrowed, they stood upon the rust-red rooftops, lamenting their current situation.  Among them was Jean Kirschtein, who sat upon the ridge with his head and shoulders hunched over - the very picture of defeat.  

Amber eyes peered down bitterly at the gauge on his fuel supply.  The gas pressure was running hollow - he barely had a quarter of a tank left to burn.  That amount was nowhere near enough for him to climb over the walls, and at this rate, it would take a miracle for him to make it back to HQ without either running dry or getting eaten.  

Worse still, it left him unable to continue his search for you.  Even if you were still alive... even if you were somewhere out there... whether you were hurt, alone, lost, afraid, or in danger... there was nothing he could do to help you now.  Not with a nearly empty tank, anyhow.  He would never be able to reach you like this.  The helplessness of it all was too much to bear.

Jean couldn't even deign to look at his fellow trainees standing all around him.  The sight was just too depressing for words.  All of them were in the same situation as he was, low on fuel and unable to escape to safety.  The only thing they could do now was sit around terrified, and wait for death.

All the while, the thunderous footsteps grew louder and louder with each passing minute.  It was only a matter of time until the area was overrun by Titans.  

There was nothing else left for him to do.  It was the end of the line for all of them.

And yet, there were a handful of individuals who simply refused to give up hope.

"Jean!" Connie urged angrily, standing in front of him.  "This isn't the time to sit around and mope! We have to do something!"

Jean didn't look up.  "Like what?" he asked in a dull, hopeless voice.  "If you have a brilliant idea to get us over the wall with what little gas we have left, then by all means Connie, enlighten us."

He glanced wearily towards Sasha, who was flitting back and forth between the scattered Trainees, trying her best to cheer them up and rouse them into action.  They were unaffected, and merely stared into the distance with hollow, dead-looking eyes.  Morale had tanked to an all time low.

The copper-blond soldier let out a heavy sigh.  "Fate definitely has a fucked-up sense of humor. The moment finally signal the retreat, we barely have enough fuel to fly around.  At this rate, we're gonna get picked off one by one when the Titans take over this place... All thanks to those goddamn cowards back at HQ."

Connie scowled incredulously.  "What, you mean the supply teams? What the hell are they all doing? Surely they can't all be dead already."

"More likely they've boarded themselves up, and are now hiding terrified," Jean said with a  grimace.  "I don't know if you've seen the HQ building, but it's crawling with Titans right now.   There's no way out and no way in.  I'm willing to bet that our comrades have called off the supply mission."

He grinned with humorless irony.  "Those poor, cowardly fools.  I have to admit, I'd be tempted to do the same, had I been in their position.  Either way, we can't expect any help at this rate, be it reinforcements from Rose or the supply teams from HQ.  We're on our own out here."

"All the more reason why we should all face the enemy head on, by throwing in all of our lot together!" Connie insisted. "We can't just sit around and wait for the Titans to surround us! We'll just run ourselves dry trying to evade them! The moment we lose our 3D Maneuvering, we're done for!"

This caught the attention of Sasha, who wandered over to join their discussion.

"... Heh.  Bravo, Connie.  Coming from a blockhead like you, I'm impressed,"  Jean said sardonically, glowering up at the boy. "But take a good look around you.  Do you honestly think we have enough manpower for an all-out attack? The Garrison aren't here to help us - they're either dead, or they've retreated behind the walls.  What's more, I sure as hell don't see any of the Cadets volunteering to take charge, do you?"

"Jean! You could do it, couldn't you?" Sasha asked, eyes bright with hope.  "You seem to have a good head on your shoulders.  What's more, you practically have the whole situation figured out.  Surely you must some idea of how to pull off an operation like this!"

As always, Jean was uneasy as hell at the slightest mention of becoming a leader.  "Wouldn't that be convenient?" he asked rhetorically. "Unfortunately, I don't.  Not in the slightest.  Even if we were to somehow make it to HQ without getting eaten in the process, I'm willing to bet that the supply basement is filled to the brim with smaller Titans by now.  There's no fucking way we can win a fight against them there."

Sasha and Connie exchanged glances filled with dread.  Once again, Jean was right.  The small confines of the basement would never allow them to utilize their 3D Maneuvering Gear to its fullest.  

With that realization, Connie's face fell into despair.  "...So..." he gulped.  "...It's really over, then.  We're all done for, aren't we?"

The same cloud of gloom hung over every Cadet within the area.  Connie's words matched their thoughts exactly.  They were all going to die.

"Damn it," Jean cursed loudly, striking an angry fist against the tiles.  Connie and Sasha both jumped at this sudden outburst.  "If [First] had been on the support teams, this wouldn't have happened! She would NEVER have abandoned us to our deaths, the way those cowards had done! No matter what it took, she would have found a way to get us refueled.  I know she would!"

Nobody argued against that. At the mention of your name, however, Sasha began whirling around looking for you.

"Come to think of it... [First] isn't here, is she?" the brunette asked fretfully.  

"Wasn't she sent to the front lines with Eren's group?" Connie asked, brows furrowing with alarm.  "I ran into Armin earlier.  I think he might have gotten separated from his squad somehow, but he wouldn't say a thing to me before flying off on his own.  ...I have no idea where he is now."

"He was in [First]'s group, wasn't he?" Sasha dreaded to ask, but she absolutely had to.  Especially if it concerned her best friend.  "You don't suppose they've...they've all been killed, do you?"

Jean clenched his teeth, but said nothing.  He knew that it was foolish to have any shred of hope whatsoever, but that was one aspect of the current reality that he absolutely refused to accept.  Namely, the likelihood of your demise.  But now that he was literally stuck here, with no fuel and no way to find out the truth for himself, all he could do was wonder.  It was the most wretched, helpless position to be in.

Shit... Jean thought, disgusted with himself.  He gripped a hand against his head, nursing the biggest migraine of the century.  I was afraid that things would turn out this way, but I shouldn't have flown off like that.  ...Not in the middle of a quarrel.

He stood up and turned on a heel, walking off dismally without another word.  

And now, here I am.  Stuck in this nightmare of not knowing.

His eyes flickered upwards.  Marco was there, standing quietly near the edge of the rooftop.  Nearby were Reiner, Bertholdt, and Annie, all members of Squad 19.  Inhaling quietly to settle his wound up nerves, Jean walked over to meet up with him.

With wide, dark eyes, Marco stared upwards into the smoke-colored sky.  He wore a blank, silent expression.  Normally this was the time when he would try to cheer up the downtrodden and calm down the panicked... but this time, he was as subdued as the rest of them.  Not quite driven into the depths of despair just yet, but resting precariously on the edge.  Clearly, he was in utter disbelief at the way everything was unfolding.

But more than anything, Jean knew that he was sick with worry for you.

"Marco.  Buddy." Jean was desperate.  "I need you to hang in there.  Stay with me, already."

Marco blinked and looked at him, murmuring faintly.  "Right... I'm sorry." Though he was apologetic, his gaze was distant and distracted.  He fell into pensive silence once more.

Things were truly at their darkest when Marco was the one who needed consoling.  Jean watched anxiously as the freckled soldier began to voice his inner thoughts.

"... There's nothing we can do, is there?" Marco asked quietly, eyes wide.  "No matter what we do, we'll be dead before we make it out of here."

Jean gazed at him with sympathy.  "... Are ...are you scared of dying, Marco?" he hesitated, undoubtedly voicing his own secret fears.  The fear of one's own mortality.

Marco bit his lip.  "I don't know, Jean.  ... Right now, I'm prepared to accept my death, but still I can't help but wonder.  If I were to die here, would my death have any purpose whatsoever?"  His eyes lifted towards the wall, the last boundary between danger and refuge.   "...What, exactly... would I be dying for?"

Jean said nothing.  It wasn't that the answer was unknown to him, Jean was well aware that they were destined for a senseless, futile end if they stayed here any longer.  Their deaths would be in vain.  A complete waste of life as the result of a failed defense.  But just how could he say that to Marco, who was clearly troubled by the mere idea of dying a meaningless death?

Marco stared distantly towards the columns of smoke that were scattered throughout Trost.  "She's somewhere out there.  Isn't she, Jean?" he asked, throat tightening.  "She could be dying at this very moment, and all we can do is just sit here."

"Marco, this is [First] we're talking about," Jean never thought he would be the one to cheer people up.  But clearly he was willing to change a little for the sake of his best friend.  He rested a hand against Marco's shoulder.  "Maybe she was right.  Maybe she was stronger than we both thought, all along.  If it's her... I'm sure she'll think of a way to survive."

He smiled a little sadly, remembering the way you had yelled at him during his last argument with you.  "Right now, I want to have a little faith in her.  It's not over until it's over, Marco.  We'll see her again.  Both of us."

Marco stared back at him.  His anxiety seemed to subside, and he showed signs of being his calm, optimistic self once more.  "I hope you're right, Jean."  He murmured with a faint smile.  Jean smiled uneasily back at him.

Of course, he thought, still edgy.  That also depends on whether or not we wind up living long enough to find her.

"Listen, Marco..." he said, concentrating in thought.  "I haven't given up yet.  Just give me some time, and I'll think of a way to get us into the supply room.  Once we stock up on gas... we can go looking for her."  His face grew tense.  "I'll be dangerous, but-"

"I'm going with you," Marco said firmly.  "I don't care if the entire town is thick with Titans.  I'm never going to be calm until I find out for certain.  If it was you, Jean... I'd do the same."

Jean grinned weakly.  "I thought as much.  What a bunch of fools we are, huh? Pitching ourselves into danger just to look for some headstrong, crazy girl.  But I'm like you, Marco.  I can't let it go either."

"You're right.  The two of you are complete and utter fools if you think we're going to allow something like that," Reiner stepped in, looking stern.  "I know how much you both care about her, but a two-man search party into Titan-infested territory is both a risky and idiotic venture.  You'll never get out of there alive."  He narrowed his eyes.  "Jean, you of all people should know this, for crying out loud."

"I know, Reiner.  I know it's irresponsible, but what can I do?" Jean growled in reply.  He clutched his forehead again, shoulders tensing.  "I just hate not knowing.  Even worse, I hate sitting around doing nothing.  There has to be something I can do..."

"There is," Reiner informed him bluntly.  "Look after yourself first.  It's what she'd want.  What's more..."  He motioned with his head over towards the wall of a nearby church.  "... Don't go flying off into the horizon just yet.  From the looks of it, your first clue to her whereabouts is closer than you think."

Frowning in confusion, Jean turned to look.  His eyes widened in shock.  "...Armin?"

The blond boy was sitting limply against the wall, blue eyes staring in a hollow daze.  It was no wonder that barely anyone noticed his arrival, he had barely done anything to draw attention to himself.  In fact, it appeared as though he was trying to do the exact opposite - the poor kid was practically wilting.

"When did he get here?" Marco gasped, pivoting on a heel to face Armin.  "He wasn't sitting there when I last looked, I didn't even notice him joining our group!"

"I don't blame you.  He just crawled over here a few minutes ago without uttering a single sound," Reiner remarked, scowling in concern.  His expression grew unsettled.  "Poor kid.  He looks like he's seen some grim shit out there.  He won't talk to anyone."

"Wait," Jean interrupted.  "Armin was part of Squad 34, wasn't he? The same team as [First] and Eren.  ...Why isn't he with the rest of his squad right now?"

Marco grew tense.  "Let's ask him," he suggested.

The two Brothers-in-Arms bounded across the roof tiles to where Armin sat.  The boy barely stirred at their approach.  Instead, he remained slumped against his knees, still lost in a sunken-eyed trance.  

Marco was alarmed at the sight of him in such a state.  "Armin, what's wrong? You're not hurt, are you?" he asked.  

"Hey... what happened? Did you get separated from your squad, or something?" Jean demanded, kneeling down to look at Armin eye-level.  "Talk to us, won't you?" The blond-boy simply avoided his gaze and said nothing.  Those sunken eyes of his spoke of trauma beyond imagining.  

Jean stood up.  He and Marco looked at one another in bewilderment.  Armin's silence was not a good sign.  Not in the very least.  Whatever ordeal he had gone through, if it had been so terrible that he absolutely refused to speak of it... then Jean wasn't certain that he wished to learn the truth about what happened to you.

He backed away, giving Armin more space.  Great.  What now? Asking Armin only resulted in more questions than answers, and Jean was far from reassured.  It was possible that Armin had absolutely no idea what had happened to his teammates or where they could be, which just made the situation seem more hopeless than ever...

"Jean, look..." Marco elbowed his comrade in the arm and pointed.  Jean looked.  His eyes widened in surprise.

"Mikasa...?"

Sure enough, there she was, standing in the distance and well out of earshot.  It looked as though she had just flew in, and was now asking Annie Leonhardt a number of frantic questions.  No surprise, Jean thought.  Just as he and Marco were both worried about you, Mikasa was more than likely worried about Eren.

Annie directed her gaze towards Armin.  Mikasa nodded and flew over.

"Armin!" she called.

That was when the blond-boy jerked violently, turning pale as ash.  He began trembling violently.  Jean stared.  What the hell had gotten into him...? If something happened, why doesn't he just say it straight out...?

Could it be...?

No.  He refused to accept it.

Stepping back to give Mikasa room, Jean watched with Marco as the raven-haired girl flew over.

"Armin..." Mikasa knelt down gently, concern crossing her ivory features.  "Are you hurt anywhere? Are you alright?"

Armin hesitated visibly, before gulping down and nodding stiffly.  Even now, with Mikasa in the vicinity, he still refused to utter a single word.  His eyes remained downcast, lips firmly drawn together.  Jean said nothing, but continued to look on tensely.

Mikasa sighed her relief when she saw that Armin had not sustained any injuries.  Standing up, she began to look around.  "What about Eren? Where is he? Do you know?"

"Wait... Mikasa-" Marco stepped forward, looking as though he wanted to warn her.  There was genuine fear in his eyes now.

Mikasa blinked at him, confused.  When she looked back at Armin, however, she quickly realized why.  Her gaze widened in shock.

Jean saw it too.  Armin suddenly stared upwards with painfully wide eyes, trembling from head to toe.  Sobs and hiccups began to fill the air.  Tears were streaming down his face, dripping down his cheeks to fall upon the tiles below.

"O-our unit... S-Squad 34..." he uttered in a voice wracked with sobs.  His ghost-white hands were clenched tight against his knees as he knelt before Mikasa.

Jean felt an icy wave wash over his body from head to toe, turning his insides to iron.  Shit... No, no, no...

"T-Thomas W-Wagner...! N-Nack Tius...!" The tears continued to fall as Armin listed each name one by one.  There was no need for explanation.

Marco and Mikasa were both rooted to the spot, looking aghast.  Other cadets were also staring in horror at Armin.  Jean barely noticed, gripped by the weight of his own dread.  

No... no... please let it end there...

But the list went on.  "...M-Millius Z-Zermusky...!"

Jean's heart was sinking fast.  He wanted to run away, to escape from the truth, but his desperation for closure kept him rooted to the spot.

Marco was quietly hyperventilating.

"...M-M-Mina... C-Carolina...!" Armin was stuttering now, becoming more agonized with each name he counted off.  Only two more... and he wasn't showing any sign of stopping.

No... no... please, no... not her...

Armin hunched his shoulders, shaking like a leaf.  "...[First] [Last]...! ...Eren Jaeger...!"

...Shit.

... The world was coming to an end.  That was what it felt like to Jean, at that very moment.

"...All of them..." the blond boy sobbed uncontrollably, flooding with tears.  "All six of them have fulfilled their duty to humanity... and met heroic deaths on the battlefield!"

A horrible stir rippled through the surrounding cadets with all the force of the crashing tide.  Every single one was stunned beyond all comprehension of this terrible truth.  Several cadets fell to their knees and broke down in grief upon hearing the fate of their comrades.  Millius and Nack had been part of their own tightly-knit circle of friends.  Thomas had been well-liked among a huge part of the regiment.  As for Mina, who was friends with practically everyone, several girls were already crying openly.  

Reiner's expression became more grim than ever.  Even Annie and Bertholdt reacted with shock.  Connie stood there with his eyes wide with disbelief, unable to say a single word.  His hands were shaking.

Sasha's eyes brimmed with tears as she whispered, "...No... That can't be true..."

More than a handful of teenagers reacted with fear for their own lives.  

"I can't believe it... the Squad 34 was almost completely wiped out..." One of them murmured fearfully.

"At this rate, we'll end up like them if we fight the Titans..." Another whispered.

And Armin... Armin was overcome with both grief and guilt over the fact that he had survived when the rest of his team perished.  He choked and hiccupped on his tears.  

"I'm... I'm sorry...I'm s-so sorry...!  M-Mikasa... J-Jean...M-Marco...! " He directed his voice towards the three standing nearest to him, but was unable to look at either of them in the eye.  

"[First]... sh-she died t-trying to save everyone... Eren g-gave up his life to s-save m-mine...! And I c-couldn't do anything to stop it! I... I..."

Armin's words trailed off entirely.  Now he was reduced to nothing more than a weeping, convulsing mess.

... Marco turned away from Armin and collapsed to his knees.  It was as though his strength had been drained away entirely.  From the look in his eyes, it was clear that he was in a state of complete denial.  

Jean felt his own knees quavering beneath him.  He slumped his arm up against the brick wall, leaning into it with head and shoulders hunched over.  Like Marco, he felt as though all the vitality in his veins had been sapped dry.  Now he didn't have the energy to even curse... or make a fist... or smash it into the nearest window, though he desperately wanted to.

A part of him wanted to defy the truth.  A part of him was consumed with the impulse to smash down and tear up everything in sight.  But none of that compared to the part of him that was completely, utterly, breaking down into despair.

Marco buried his forehead against his palms, looking more worn down and frayed than ever.  Shock was slowly spiraling into grief.  "Why...? After everything that's happened... Why did it have to be her...?"

Jean said nothing.  All he could do was wonder the same thing.  It was true that fate favored no one.  Even the best and the most beloved were equally doomed.  But even so, some small aspect of him had hoped that at least you would find a way, somehow, to not die.

Hunched towards the wall, Jean shut his eyes in anguish.  There were no tears.  Only shuddering, dry sobs that tore up his chest but made no sound.  Who said it hurt to hope? It hurt like hell to hope.

'I should never have let you go, [First].  I should have tried harder to stop you...' This he thought bitterly. 'Still... If someone told me that this was going to happen regardless ... I wouldn't have wasted all that time on such a stupid argument!'

In the end... everything that Jean had predicted had come true, and that was what made it even worse.

'I...couldn't do anything  ... I never...got a chance to tell her. And now, I never will...'

...Nothing seemed to matter anymore.

'I should have gone with her.'

...Nothing at all.

The Cadets were still reeling from the shock of it all.  Many were losing themselves in mourning.  Nobody noticed that Mikasa was the only one who had yet to elicit a reaction.

But soon enough, all of them were quickly surprised... by the way she did not react to the horrible news.

Calmly, serenely, the raven-haired girl knelt down and enclosed her hand around Armin's.  While Armin was trembling uncontrollably, Mikasa was as perfectly still as a lake's mirror-smooth surface.

"Ar...min..." she breathed, her voice void of inflection.  

Jean looked up with reddened eyes, and was taken aback by what he saw.

Mikasa's eyes were cold and dark.

"Take a deep breath, and calm down." she said to Armin, in the most even tone possible.  "This isn't the time or the place to let your emotions run haywire.  Stop crying."

With a tear-stained face, Armin stared back at her, uttering a startled noise.

"Up on your feet."  Mikasa pulled the boy up into a standing position, then whirled around to face the rest of the Cadets.  Black, lifeless eyes scanned the vicinity until she found the person she was looking for.

Everyone watched her apprehensively, including Jean.

"Marco," she spoke, using that eerie monotone.  "If we eliminate the Titans crawling around headquarters, we can stock up on fuel and climb the wall.  Sound like a plan to you?"

The freckled soldier lifted his face ever so slightly, but was unable to answer.  There were tears in his swollen eyes, and he was still trapped in a state of catatonia.  Mikasa, lacking sympathy and patience, snapped at him to get his attention.

"Marco!"

He looked up at her, startled.   "I-I..."

Jean had never heard his voice shake nearly so much.

"...Y-Yes, in theory..." Marco stammered, unable to concentrate on the current matter at hand when his thoughts were still flooded with you.  "But e-even then... I... Oh God, I don't know anymore..." He looked as though he might fall apart even further.

With a stare of stone, Mikasa was making her way to the edge of the rooftop in brisk strides.  Her movements were unembellished and coldly precise.  The tiles clicked underneath her heels.

Marco stared after her helplessly.  "...M-Mikasa.  You're not thinking of charging over there, are you? ...E-even if you were to fight with us, there's too many of them.  There's no way we can-"

"We can do it." Mikasa cut him off brutally. "We will do it."

Her voice was like an edge that sent many of the Cadets flinching.  Standing only an inch away from the open air, Mikasa turned to fully face her fellow soldiers.  

"I am Mikasa Ackerman, Rank One of the 104th Training Division.  A military prodigy," she declared, voice full of conviction.  A single blade was held high over her head, pointing towards the Heavens.  "I am the strongest soldier in this regiment.  No, more than that, I am stronger than every single one of you put together.  I can kill all of those Titans surrounding HQ, and I will do it alone if I have to."

All eyes were on her now, and her voice was the only one speaking.  Jean moved to stand next to Marco.  The Cadets all stared with amazement at the black-haired girl who stood against the backdrop of a ruined town, with a sky grey as charcoal.  

Dark eyes narrowed.  Mikasa's beautiful, ivory face was full of wintery contempt.

"As for the rest of you..." she spoke.  "You are all a bunch of incompetent, cowardly weaklings who have lost the will to fight for your own lives.  Pathetic. If all you can do is sit around on your asses, cry like children, and feel sorry for yourselves... then by all means, be my guest."

Most of the Cadets reacted with shock and wonder.  The others were indignant at her insinuations.  Armin was horrified.

"Mikasa, how can you say that?!" Sasha gasped at her.

"Don't tell me you're actually planning on fighting the Titans on your own!" Connie protested.  "It's impossible! There's no way you can do it."

Mikasa was as firm and steady as the earth itself.  That in itself was a miracle considering she had just lost the one person most important to her.

"If I can't," she reasoned coolly.  "Then I'll just die.  But..."  

She turned towards the edge of the rooftop, lifting her eyes softly towards the cityscape beyond.  "...If I win, I live."

Mikasa peered over her shoulder out of the corner of her eye.  In her sights were Jean and Marco, both startled into pale-faced speechlessness.  The girl narrowed her eyes scornfully at them.

"For shame," she chided them. "You two should be embarrassed with yourselves! What do you think she would say if she could you both right now, giving up without a struggle like the pathetic cowards you are?"

Marco flinched.  Jean likewise reacted as though he had been struck in the face.

...What would [First] say ... if she saw us giving up like this? What would she think of us then?

Mikasa turned her back, setting her sights on Military Headquarters.  Both blades were secure in her grasp.

"If you do not fight... you cannot win."  Those were her last words as she jumped off the edge and took off into the air, carried along by her wires.  She was gone before anyone could stop her.  The Cadets all stared after her, their jaws hanging open.

Jean stared at the tiles underneath his feet, torn between action and inaction.  Now that you were gone... what was the point in doing anything, anymore? What meaning was there in continuing through this hopeless struggle, when you won't be there to see its end? All that was left was a dark, hollow void that made the world seem colorless.  Empty.  Inconsequential.

And yet...he felt as though he had just heard your voice in Mikasa's words, just now.  Jean knew that if you had been standing here right now, next to him, you wouldn't have given up.  You would have encouraged him and Marco to keep on fighting, no matter how futile it seemed.  You would have been enraged at him for acting like a coward.

...Instead, here he was, wallowing in his own misery with Marco, while you had gone down fighting until your last breath.  Mikasa was right.  It was pathetic.  So much, that he deserved worse than being yelled at, called a moron, or being beaten to a pulp like you.  

The very thought was enough to turn his grief into anger.  Anger at himself, and the rest of the world.

[Songstamp: "Fighter" - Ace Combat Assault Horizon OST]

"Give me a fucking break..." he hissed under his breath after Mikasa.  Marco and Connie looked towards him in alarm.  "Honestly.  Trying to channel Jaeger's dead spirit and inheriting his god-awful public speaking skills...?"

...There was a shriek of steel as Jean drew his twin blades, glaring balefully.  "...That just fucking pisses me off."
 
"Jean...?" Marco stared at him, eyes wide with bewilderment.

"Listen... Marco. I'm not ready to die just yet," Jean told him with a grin that was half-savage, half-agonized.  "God knows ... Who's going to live long enough to remember our Firefly from Hell, if we give up now?"

That's right. Who's going to mourn her, if we're both gone? Jean thought, infused with renewed energy, and a newfound will to keep on fighting.  He gripped his blades tightly.  I absolutely refuse to let her death be for nothing.

Full of heated determination, Jean turned to face the Cadets, raising one blade towards the sky.  "You all heard her!" he shouted, voice full of spirit.  "We weren't trained to let our comrades fight alone! Are we all going to let ourselves be remembered as a bunch of spineless cowards?!"

Jean sprinted towards the edge of the roof, leaping off with a mighty kick.  "COME ON!"

His cables burst forth, carrying him over buildings and through air currents until Mikasa was once again in sight.  Connie was right at his heels, likewise flaring with revived courage.  

"Priceless words," Reiner muttered with a smirk.  "Coming from a self-serving guy like him."  He sprung into action with Bertholdt and Annie.  Armin wiped away his tears, and grimly moved to follow Mikasa.

Marco stared after Jean's flying form, still lost in indecision.  For a while, he ruminated in silence on all that had been said.  Soon enough, he seemed to find his resolve once more, his reason to endure the painful struggle that lay in wait.  Inhaling deeply, he settled his nerves and regained his focus.  Within seconds, he was in the air, catching up with Jean.  

Sasha was absolutely burning with energy.  Though her eyes were bright with tears, she bravely grinned like the Devil Herself at the handful of cadets who were still left dumbstruck.  "Hey! You! MORONS! How long are you gonna sit there with your heads stuck neck-deep in your stupid asses!"

It was largely obvious that she was taking a page from your book of insults. With varying results.  "You all suck! LATERS."

She bounded off, leaving more than a few people absolutely incensed.

Everyone could see it.  The remaining members of the Top Ten were behaving as though they had all gone absolutely postal.  Maybe they really had, thought the trainees.  But neither of them cared any longer.  One thing had become absolutely clear - they were wasting their time, sitting around waiting for death.

Together, the Cadets all chorused a furious war-cry that sent tremors rippling into the heavens itself.  Wires began to fly through the air.  Within seconds, the sky was thick with the surviving soldiers from the 104th Training Regiment.

Mikasa surged forth, blades singing.  She began to blaze a trail to headquarters, cutting down anything that dared to oppose her.  Second to lead was Jean Kirschtein, charging forward while keeping Mikasa in his sights.  "Everyone follow her!" he yelled over his shoulder.  "Let's keep this fight short! We need to eliminate them all before we run dry!"

Titan after Titan fell to Mikasa's strength and precision.  She was nigh unstoppable... and burning gas at an alarming rate.  Jean exchanged a glance with Armin, who flew alongside.  Both of them realized with horror that Mikasa was absolutely losing it.  Regardless of her staidness earlier, she had completely given herself up to grief.  Now, she didn't care about anything anymore, let alone conserving her fuel supply.

...Sure enough, the exhaust vent in her gear ceased to hiss.  With nothing to propel her through the air, Mikasa plummeted like a rock and crashed into the roof, rolling into the street below.  Her blades broke and scattered.

Shit... Jean gritted his teeth in worry, not wanting to lose another comrade, or their best chance at defeating the Titans.

"Mikasa! Hang on!" Armin immediately shot after her.  Jean moved to follow, but was cut off by Connie.

"Jean! I'll go! Stay with the group!" the boy yelled, flying alongside.  "You have to take the lead now!"

"What? Again?!" Jean looked absolutely horrified by the idea.  "God damn it.  Why me?!"

"Get it together, Jean! Without Mikasa or [First], you're our 3D Maneuvering ace! We need your skills, or we'll never be able to defeat those Titans!" Connie glared at him with a look of urgency.  "Do it, Jean! Lead them to HQ! I'll catch up with you later!"  

He shot his wires into a tower, and swerved out of sight before Jean could even get a word in edgewise.

Jean was left both furious and terrified, not to mention in complete denial of the responsibility that was so rudely dropped on his head like the bloody moon. And sure enough, looking all around him, he could see the anxious stares of his fellow Cadets from every corner.  With Mikasa gone, they were tailing him now, keeping up with his movements and following from behind.  They were waiting on him to give them directions.

Jean cringed, feeling the pressure bearing down.  Every ounce of self-preservation he possessed was screaming 'HELL NO', right now.  But if he couldn't find the courage to lead the group... then who would?

"Jean!" Marco's voice filled his ears.  His best friend was at his right wing, freckled features full of worry.  Even though, he managed a smile in an attempt to reassure the copper-blond soldier.  "... Hang in there, Jean.  I know you can do it.  No one can grasp the situation better than you can."

... Me? A leader? Jean thought sardonically. I honestly wonder.

He took a deep breath and steeled his nerves.  Fucking hell... here goes nothing.

"Everyone! This way!" he shouted, sprinting across the rooftops and leaping across the gaps.   "Use the buildings to conserve gas, but watch for Titans before you make a jump!"

The Cadets grew more confident as Jean gave them a direction.  Suppressing his inner misgivings, Jean focused on the route ahead, narrowing his eyes with concentration.  If his memory of Trost was correct, then he should be able to lead them all along a path with plenty of large rooftops for running, and tall buildings for safety.  

Apparently, even growing up in a shithole town like this had its advantages after all, Jean thought to himself wryly.

"Marco..." he murmured alongside. "Stay at my right and watch for any surprises.  Don't let anything  ambush us."

"Understood," Marco replied with a nod.  "I'll keep following you."  He still looked pale, but it appeared as though he had finally managed to calm down to an extent.  Although, Jean couldn't tell just how much grief he was holding back right now.

...Damn it all...

The wind was creating more turbulence than ever, whipping at his hair and uniform.  His thoughts suddenly became rueful.

I don't know what I can do. But the very least.  ...I wouldn't have let her die the way Jaeger had done.

It sounded arrogant when Jean could hardly be sure of himself, but it didn't matter.  He needed a way of imbuing himself with the confidence he utterly lacked right now.  In order to become a leader, he had to be brave.  More than anything, he was desperate to not feel afraid.  To find the strength to move forward and not hesitate...

...Especially since the one person he wanted to see most right now... was no longer anywhere to be found.

Jean resisted the urge to rub his eyes, though they stung like a bitch now.  Must be the wind.  Yeah... the wind.  So fucking cold, like a blast of needles against his face.  It was making his eyes sting and tear up a little...

Hard to believe she's gone... he thought bitterly.

Marco's voice snapped him back to attention.  "Jean! Titans, up ahead!"

"Shit... I see them," Jean growled, narrowing his eyes with disgust and hatred at the sight of them.  He raised his voice to grab the attention of the other Cadets.  "HOLD! WE'VE GOT COMPANY!"

Jean dropped altitude, at the same time giving the Titans a wide berth.  That didn't stop them from stretching their necks upward in an attempt to snap at his heels.  Jean bared his teeth and concentrated on finding a safe landing.  There! That building looked high enough.

He shared a rooftop with Marco, Sasha and a handful of others.  The other cadets also landed around him on top of the nearby buildings.  Taking a deep breath, and retracting his wires, Jean made his way towards the edge of the rooftop.  He glanced over.

A Titan was pressed up against the wall, leering directly up at him with a mouthful of teeth.  Jean gulped as it began scratching against the bricks, leaving cracks and dents running up and down the wall.  Good thing it was too small to climb...

The street was thick with Titans of all different sizes.  Their massive footfalls sent tremors throughout the woodwork of the buildings, causing the tiles to rattle with a chilling noise.  With such a large group of humans in the vicinity, it was only a matter of time until they turned aggressive.  Jean had to think fast, while the Titans were still wandering around in mindless stupor.

Sasha gulped audibly, shrinking away from the edge of the building.  A few Cadets shrunk together in tight little groups upon the rooftops.  But Jean stayed right where he was, near the edge of the building.

Amber-eyes focused on Military Headquarters.  It was not terribly far now, but the area was absolutely swarming with Titans.  As Jean had suspected, a few Titans were attempting to crawl and climb their way into the keep itself.  

Everyone was looking at Jean expectantly, waiting for him to decide their next move.  ...No pressure, of course.  Fucking hell.  

A sheen of sweat glistened on Jean's face.  He had taken the time to ascertain the situation at hand... and he was NOT at all happy with his findings.  

Damn it... he thought, shoulders tensing.  We've come so close, but there's just too many of them.  There's no way we can take a roundabout path without running out of gas... and we can't afford a fight when we're running dry...

His face turned grim.  ...But we can't just move forward either.  Not unless we're ready to lose someone...

Jean swallowed in deep breaths and angled his blades, taking one preparatory step away from the building's edge.  At this rate, they were going to have to fight their way through, weren't they?  God help them all...

... Just as he was about to give the order, the distinct sound of someone whimpering caught his attention.  Eyes widening in alarm, Jean looked out into the streets below.

One Cadet was standing alone on the brick-covered promenade, shivering with fear and desperation.  His wires were embedded against the wall.  Frantically squeezing the double-trigger, the boy attempted again and again to reel himself up into the air.  But the exhaust vent of his 3D Maneuvering Gear sputtered uselessly.  The wheels refused to turn.

"Shit..." Jean muttered under his breath, falling into a panic.  "The poor bastard's run himself dry..."

And to make matters worse, the Titans had seen him, and were now making a beeline for the young soldier.  One four-meter class Titan scooped up the trembling boy in his enormous hands, causing Jean to lose all will to help.  

He was gone.  There was nothing they could do.  Jean wanted more than anything to tear his eyes away from the sight...

... The air was suddenly filled with the shriek of wires and shouts overhead.  

"Tom! Hang on! We'll save you!"

Two cadets, a boy and a girl, charged through the air.  Blades held high, they both hurled themselves towards the crowd of Titans, intent on saving their comrade.  Jean fired off a string of silent curses.  Desperate, he tried to warn them.

"No, wait! It's no good! STOP-!"

It was too little, and too late.  A giant hand shot out, snatching the boy out of the air right before he could land a killing strike on Tom's assailant.  Jean froze at the sound of bones snapping, followed by a choked gasp.  The boy's spine snapped instantly in the Titan's grip, turning him into a limp and lifeless corpse.  

Tom, meanwhile, was reduced to a sobbing and howling mess, as a pair of massive jaws opened up to devour him eagerly.  Twin rows of huge and heavy teeth clamped down on his form with a sickening crunch.  His whimpers ended abruptly, and rivers of red began to run down his motionless body.

As for the girl, she was caught easily.  Her agonized and petrified screams began to fill the air as the Titan that had caught her began pulling away at her limbs.  One by one.

...All that Jean could do was watch, rooted to the spot, as his comrades were eaten and swallowed up before his very eyes.  

... I should have stopped them, he thought, horror-struck.  Self-loathing suddenly filled him.  ...Why then, didn't I do anything? Why couldn't I do anything? ... If I had been able to move, none of this would have happened...

The girl's screams continued to fill the air.  "Please stop! Don't... I DON'T WANT TO DIE!"  Her shrills became piercing as bones began to snap and twist audibly between gigantic fingers.  Other Titans began to swarm around her, eager for a bite.

Sasha watched in terror, looking sick to the stomach, and ready to lose her lunch.

Marco, however, immediately turned away from the scene and clamped his hands over his ears, desperately drowning out the sound.  His face was drained of blood, and he was recoiling violently.  Jean immediately realized what he must be imagining, right at this very moment... for his own thoughts were exactly the same.

... Was this... how you might have died?

The very thought was just too horrific for words.  Jean's knuckles tightened against the handles of his Maneuvering Gear, to the point where they trembled and turned white as raw bone.    

Maybe... Maybe I can't do this after all ... he thought, feeling himself sink into despair.  This is exactly what I was afraid of.  If people are just going to die on my watch... Am I really cut out to be a leader? These cadets all trust me, and yet I may very well be sending them to their deaths...

Everything was crumbling apart again.  Jean closed his eyes, wanting nothing more than to simply disappear from the world.  Maybe it was better not to struggle after all, and let fate run its course...

...

...

...This fucking headache.  It's starting to come back again.

...Jean clenched a hand against his brow, gritting his teeth as a bizarre and inexplicable pain began to build up against the insides of his skull.  His head was really starting to split now, as though pressure was bearing down on him from all possible directions.  

...Come to think of it? When was the last time he had felt this helpless? Void of all hope? Prepared for the absolute worst?

... His memories flashed.  So did the blade of a knife, lingering just inches away from his nose.

He was back in that alleyway again, fighting against Fleischer's gang of thugs.  He was reliving the experience of being forced into a corner, held at knifepoint, and terrorized with the promise of death by mutilation.  Marco, somewhere nearby, had a gun brutally shoved into his face.  Watching helplessly, Jean could see the gunman's fingers closing on the trigger.  He remembered being gripped by despair, as the knife reared back for the kill...

That was the one moment in his life when he had truly, completely given up on everything.

The tension against his skull was excruciating now... even with his eyes closed, he was starting to see sparks in his vision.  He felt something lance through his head with the force of a bullet...

That was when he heard your voice.

"Jean! Marco! NOW!"

...

...

Jean's snapped his eyes open with a startled gasp.  A part of him knew it was futile...and yet, he found himself whirling around looking for you.  But you were nowhere to be seen.  He was back in the present, standing on the edge of the rooftop and watching helplessly as his comrades were torn apart and consumed.

...But something was different.  His headache was gone, and his hands were no longer trembling.  The world before his very eyes seemed somehow...clearer.  More lucid.  Easier to comprehend.  The clouds were finally starting to pull apart, allowing scant shafts of sunlight to pour through.  

Jean blinked.  What in the world...what just happened? Why was he remembering that all of a sudden, at a time like this?  And then he realized...

... There was a chance.  A window of opportunity.  It was small, but it was there, and Jean could see it.  It was as though you, yourself, had pointed it out to him at that very moment... just like you had done the evening before.  A chance to save himself and everyone following his lead...

The Titans were no longer focused on the rooftops.  The right moment to escape was now!

Wasting no more time, Jean alerted his comrades.  "Marco! Sasha! Everyone! MOVE!" he roared.  "Head straight for HQ, and don't look back!"

Springing into action once more, Jean kicked off and sprinted across the rooftops, veins burning with adrenaline.  Marco, hearing Jean's voice, finally snapped out of his trance and sped his steps towards headquarters. The other Cadets were quick to follow, and catching up with all their remaining strength and determination.

Jean's eyes flickered towards the gauge on his tank.  ... Just a sliver's worth left.  He clicked his teeth in frustration.  Well.  No matter.  As long as he had something to work with, he would manage somehow.  Another gamble.  All or nothing.  This time, more lives were on the line, and they were all depending on him.

He growled his discontent.  Once again, he didn't want to be a leader.  Why couldn't anyone understand that? Already, lives were being lost on his account, and he had no idea how he was going to deal with that.  Hell, he didn't even want to.  It was the absolute last thing he needed right now.

...

'So you say, Jean...'

...

Amber eyes widened.  Memories flashed before his vision.  Was that...  your voice, speaking to him again?

...

'But quite frankly, I don't think you can do a thing about it.  The moment the situation calls for it, you never hesitate.  Am I wrong?'

...

Your face flashed in his mind as he began to remember this particular conversation he had shared with you in the past.  Feeling tortured, Jean struggled to block it out, but to no avail.

Damn it... why was he remembering this now? This was just too unbearable.  He had promised not to mourn until after this was over.  Why couldn't he stop thinking about you, even when so much was at stake right now?

...

'I've seen it happen with you before.  Whether you consciously decide to or not, you just jump right in, damn your selfishness and your fear of responsibility and your fear of fucking up.  It's like an instinct, you can't help it. And you know what?'

...

...No.  He didn't want to hear it.  God fucking damn it, he didn't want this kind of responsibility.  He hated the idea of taking command, he hated the idea of being a leader. You were right... he was scared shitless of fucking everything up, and he didn't care who knew it.  The whole world could laugh at him for his lack of courage, but it was far better than messing up and having everyone die under his watch...

... Despite every effort to drown out all thoughts of you, they were in vain.  All he could see was you.  Jean felt real tears springing to his eyes this time, as your familiar smile appeared in his vision, bright as the sun breaking over the horizon.  

...

'Marco was right about you being a natural leader.  When it comes down to it, you really do know what needs to be done.  You know how to look out for everyone else.  And in the end, Jean, you...'  

"Shut up!" Jean snarled in anguish.  For fuck's sake, even in death you were still messing with his head like the crazy little minx you were.  Inexplicably, he found himself grinning.  Whether he was truly smiling or simply clenching his teeth against the tears that stung his eyes... he really didn't have a damn clue.

He really didn't want to do this.  ...But what else could he do? Maybe it was time to accept the fact that 'doing the right thing' wasn't always the easiest path to take.  If this was that you would have wanted, then he really had no choice.

Troublesome girl, you were.  Right until the very last.

But whatever you and Marco kept trying to tell him, he still refused to accept it. This was a burden he would never bear willingly.

Using anger and frustration to chase away his fear, Jean focused his eyes dead ahead.  His attention zeroed in on a crowd of Titans that wandered in a horde just beyond the street.  Letting out a low growl, Jean fired another set of wires, weaving through towers and cutting through the air with expert mobility.  The rest of his comrades followed.

"Move in and hold formation!" he ordered.  "We're breaking through, whatever it takes!"

The pressure in his gas tank was a breath away from hitting rock bottom.  It was now or never.  Sooner or later, it'll be time to make that final leap of faith.

---

Meanwhile, in a rain-filled alleyway blocked off at all points by groaning, prowling Titans, something stirred to life beneath the wreckage... something filled with thoughts of anger, grief, and desperation.

A livid and bleeding hand clawed its way up and burst out from the debris.  Underneath the the dust, the splinters of wood, the shattered bricks and the shards of glass, a voice gasped for air and coughed harshly.  

... This... fucking... war.