Now she was trapped within these wooden walls—and beyond. It felt like her whole life existed around nothing else but walls. Today marked the first official day of training. Vivienne couldn't tell if she was nervous or excited. Probably both, but mostly nervous.

She was well aware that she wasn’t very popular here. Even though she should have been used to the condescending comments—ones that had always been directed at her uncle—it felt different when a group of people stared at you directly, whispering the moment you passed. No matter what she did—how she walked, ate, or even slept—she felt watched, judged. Vivienne hated that feeling.

The ODM training had officially begun. The Omni-Directional Mobility Gear was an advanced piece of equipment designed to give soldiers incredible agility in combat against the Titans. Shadis had told them that anyone who failed would serve as a decoy on the front lines.

Vivienne eyed the structure before her—three wooden mast-like poles, reinforced with metal, with wires hanging from either side. Impressive. Most of the cadets struggled to stay upright.

One of them, however, was perfectly still.

Mikasa, a girl with short black hair, stood calm and unmoving—as if this were effortless. She was talented.

Then it was Vivienne’s turn.

A young man secured the wires to her harness, and in an instant, she was airborne.

At first, everything seemed fine. But then—her balance wavered. Her arms flailed as she desperately tried to steady herself. And then—it happened.

She swung forward, her head suddenly tipping downwards.

Laughter erupted around her.

A deep heat crept up her neck, settling in her cheeks. A sharp pang of shame ran down her spine.

Her blonde hair dangled beneath her. Her jaw clenched.

It can’t end here.

Vivienne had never been desperate for admiration, but she refused to become known as the noble girl who couldn’t even stand upright.

Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out a hair tie, quickly securing her hair into a ponytail.

For a brief moment, she wondered—how had Uncle Ètienne fared during this training?

She had always thought of him as strong, steady. At least, when they played together. It was hard to imagine a man as kind as him becoming a soldier. And yet, no matter how much she had grown, he had always been able to lift her into his arms.

"Looks like a little gust of wind got stuck in front of me."

Her eyes widened.

Wind.

Vivienne let herself sway. Back and forth. Lower. Closer. Her head inched towards the ground—then, just before her nose could brush the dirt, her body swung back up.

She focused on her breathing. Stilled her hands. And this time—it worked.

The laughter stopped.

She turned her head slightly. Not far from her, Shadis was yelling at a boy who had failed to pull himself upright. Unlike her, he had been noticed.

Vivienne felt relief. And guilt.

The wooden tables rattled slightly as cadets leaned forward, tapping their forks against their plates. The air was thick with the scent of overcooked stew, damp clothes, and sweat—exhaustion and tension lingered over them like a heavy fog.

Vivienne sat alone at the end of the table, absentmindedly dragging her fork through her food. She wasn’t particularly hungry.

But she was listening.

A large crowd had gathered around Eren Yeager’s table. He and Armin—who, according to Shadis, had a stupid name—were both from Shiganshina , which sparked a flurry of conversation.

Vivienne stared blankly at her plate.

Even though she was from the capital, even though she came from a completely different background, even she had heard about it.

The day the Titans broke through the Wall.

The day where the impossible happened.

Eren was bombarded with questions.

How big was the Colossal Titan?

Did you see it?

Really?

Was it really that big?!

And still, she kept listening.

Listening to Eren’s loud, unfiltered frustration.

Jean Kirschtein had made a casual remark about joining the Military Police and living a comfortable life. And, as expected, Eren had taken the bait.

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"Are you serious? Do you really think you’ll be safe inside the walls forever?"

Eren’s voice rose, drawing the attention of the same crowd that had just been hanging on his every word about the Colossal Titan.

"What if they break through the Wall again? Who do you think will stop them?"

Jean scoffed.

"Not my problem. That’s what the Survey Corps is for. And if you’re stupid enough to join them, good for you." He stabbed his bread with his fork. "I actually want to live."

Vivienne’s fingers tightened around her fork.

"Then live as a coward," she said, voice even. "But don’t mock those of us who want to fight."

Jean turned to her with a slightly irritated look, narrowing his eyes.

"Oh, I forgot," he said sarcastically. "Princess Mitras here wants to play hero too. Why? Looking for another war story to tell at your fancy noble parties?"

Vivienne’s chair scraped against the floor as she stood up abruptly.

"You think I’m doing this for a story?"

Her voice trembled slightly—not with fear, but with suppressed anger.

Jean raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised by her reaction.

"I think," he said, leaning back slightly, "you’re delusional. Just like him." He jerked his thumb at Eren.

Eren slammed his hands down on the table.

"Say that again, asshole"

But Jean didn’t back down. "I said you’re delusional," he repeated. "You act like you're some fearless warrior, but we all saw you on ODM gear training. You were shaking. Face it - you're terrified". His eyes flickered towards Vivienne. "And so is she"

Vivienne stiffened.

He wasn’t wrong.

She was afraid.

Afraid of failing. Afraid of not being good enough. Afraid of ending up like… her uncle.

But that didn’t mean she was going to run away. It didn’t mean she wanted to give up. How could she? There was nowhere to return to. The academy—becoming a soldier—had to work. She had no other choice.

"You’re right," she said quietly, forcing Jean to look at her again. "I… am scared."

Jean frowned, as if he hadn’t expected her to admit it so easily.

"But at least I’m not pretending it’s not happening," she continued. "At least I’m not lying to myself, telling myself the Titans will stay outside the Walls forever."

Jean’s jaw tightened.

"I’m not a liar," he shot back. "I am a straight talker. Unlike someone who acts like they’ve got balls of steel even when they’re about to piss themselves."

Eren practically lunged at him, but Marco grabbed his shoulder before he could.

Vivienne exhaled sharply, clenching her fists.

"You think we’re idiots for wanting to fight," she said, her emerald-green eyes locking onto Jean "But tell me, Jean—when the Titans come knocking at the door again, and the only ones left to fight them are the people you laughed at… will you still think we’re the stupid ones?"

She wanted to believe her uncle had joined the Survey Corps because he understood the danger. He was a clever man. If someone who had grown up in nobility—as he had—had realised this was the only way forward, then she wanted to follow him.

Jean’s lips parted slightly, but no words came out.

For the first time that evening, he had no answer.

The canteen fell silent. Eyes darted between them, waiting for someone to break the tension.

Then, after a long moment, Jean clicked his tongue and turned away.

"Tch. Whatever," he muttered, shoving a piece of bread into his mouth.

Vivienne sat back down, her heart pounding harder than she cared to admit.

It was the first time she had spoken out against anyone other than her father.

Jean didn’t say another word to her for the rest of the meal. But when she looked up, she caught him watching her from across the table.

His expression was unreadable.

She wasn’t sure what it meant.

But she had a feeling this wouldn’t be the last time they clashed.

And maybe—just maybe—it wouldn’t be the last time he looked at her like that either.

Vivienne exhaled slowly and forced herself to focus on her food, though the tension still lingered in the air.

Jean had turned his attention elsewhere, muttering something to Marco. But Vivienne could still feel his gaze flicking towards her from time to time, as if he wasn’t sure what to think—or how to feel—about her presence.

She ignored it.

What she couldn’t ignore was the other pair of eyes watching her.

Eren.

When she finally looked up, his green-blue eyes were fixed on her—sharp, questioning, but not unfriendly.

She blinked.

"What...?" she asked.

Eren leaned forward slightly, his arms resting on the table. "You really meant what you said." His voice was softer now, less heated than before.

Vivienne hesitated. "Of course I did."

His gaze remained steady. "Why do you want to join the Survey Corps?"

It was a simple question, but something about the way he asked it made her pause. The first answer that came to mind was her uncle. And while that was the easiest and most logical response, something about it felt... incomplete.

"How far would you go to find out the truth?"

Her grip tightened slightly around her fork. "Because... I don’t want to live a life where I close my eyes to the truth."

Eren’s expression shifted—just a little.

She wasn’t sure why she had said that.

But something inside her had whispered the words before she could stop them. A flicker of something—something deep, something indescribable—moved in the air between them.

And then, just as quickly, it was gone.

She blinked again, shaking off the strange sensation.

Eren nodded, his expression unreadable. But there was something in his eyes—recognition? Understanding?

She didn’t know.

All she knew was that, for a brief moment, it felt as though she had seen him somewhere before.

But that was impossible.

"Hmm..." Eren finally said, leaning back slightly. A small, almost approving smile played at his lips. "You’re different from the other nobles."

Her eyes widened in surprise. "Yeah? And you’re different from the other idiots around here," Vivienne teased.

Eren grinned. "Glad we understand each other."

Armin chuckled quietly beside him, and even Mikasa, as silent as ever, seemed to be watching Vivienne with slightly less scrutinising attention than before.

Jean, however, had been listening.

And for some reason, that annoyed him more than he was willing to admit.

Vivienne wasn’t sure what to make of it yet.

But something told her that this moment—this meeting—would matter more than she realised.