Chapter IV: Rekindled
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A year had passed since the fall of Wall Maria, since the day our world had been torn asunder by the monstrous titans. In some ways, it felt more like a thousand years, each day an eternity of grief and struggle.
Anja's heart pounded as she raced through the narrow alleys of the Trost District, her pursuers' shouts echoing off the close-pressing walls. She vaulted over a low fence, her too-large beige jacket flapping around her thin frame, and shimmied up a drainpipe to the rooftops.
For all of us who survived, the nightmare was far from over. With so many refugees and not enough food to go around, that first winter was brutal.
Anja hauled herself onto the terra cotta tiles, her breath coming in ragged gasps. Below, the soldiers pounded past, their heavy boots thudding on the cobblestones. "I think she went this way!" one of them called.
She smirked and took off at a silent run, leaping nimbly across the narrow gaps between buildings.
Desperate times called for desperate measures. I did what I had to do to survive. The military had put the refugees to work, trying to farm the unyielding soil to increase food production. But the elements refused to cooperate. Crops withered in the fields as an unseasonable cold snap descended, plunging the survivors into an even deeper pit of starvation .
The wind whipped through Anja's long hair as she sprinted across the rooftops. She risked a glance over her shoulder and her heart nearly stopped. Two soldiers had taken to the roofs as well, their ODM gear glinting in the pale sunlight as they closed in on her.
Anja cursed under her breath and pushed herself harder, her legs burning with the effort. She leaped from rooftop to rooftop, skidding on loose tiles and nearly losing her footing more than once. The soldiers were gaining, their grappling hooks finding purchase in the eaves and chimneys.
Her mind raced as she scanned her surroundings, desperately searching for an escape route. There! A narrow alleyway, too tight for the soldiers to follow with their gear. She put on a burst of speed, her feet pounding against the clay tiles.
In the end, the government resorted to a final, desperate gambit. They conscripted all adult refugees into a massive campaign to retake Wall Maria. Over two hundred and fifty thousand souls... and barely a hundred ever came back. Just like that, nearly twenty percent of humanity had been snuffed out.
At the last second, Anja launched herself off the edge of the roof, her arms windmilling as she sailed through the air. In a heart-stopping moment she realized she had misjudged the distance, just as she thought she might fall.
Their deaths just bought the rest of us more time… Mankind survived because of their sacrifice, even if some days it doesn't feel worth it.
A strong hand gripped her arm, hauling her to safety. Anja looked up into the stern face of a dark eyed soldier equipped with ODM gear, his eyes hard beneath the brim of his hood.
"Gotcha, you little thief," he growled, tightening his hold.
Anja's mind raced, searching for an escape. She tensed, ready to fight, but the soldier was already dragging her towards the edge of the roof. "Let's see what the MPs have to say about your little crime spree."
Desperation lent her strength. With a twist and a jerk, Anja broke free of his grasp. She leaped from the roof, catching herself on a clothesline and using it to swing into the muddied alleyway below, scrapping against the tight walls.
She hit the mud in a flawed roll, already running as shouts of alarm and anger rang out above her. Anja darted through the narrow stretch, the soldiers struggled to follow, unable to make use of their gear. She desperately burst out into a crowded street.
Weaving through the throng of people, her heart hammering against her ribs. The sounds of pursuit had faded, the soldiers' frustrated shouts growing distant.
Certain she'd lost her tail, Anja ducked into the sheltered nook between two buildings to catch her breath. She reached into her deep pockets, a grin stealing over her face at the sight of her prize - four shiny apples and a fistful of coins. Not a bad haul, all things considered.
"Jackpot," she murmured, already imagining the look on her friends' faces when she brought home this bounty. They might grumble and scold, but nobody ever turned their noses up at a bit of extra food. Not these days.
"Well well, what have we here? A little thief, and a sloppy one at that."
Anja whirled, stance shifting defensively on pure instinct before she registered the familiar face. Lieutenant Levi leaned against the alley wall, arms crossed over his chest. Despite his short stature, he radiated an aura of coiled danger, his hooded eyes glinting in the dim light.
Her eyes widened. "Levi? What are you doing here?"
Levi pushed off the wall, closing the distance between them with measured steps. "I could ask you the same thing. I thought you were smarter than this, Anja. How long do you think you can keep up this petty crime spree before you end up in a cell? Or worse?"
Anja lifted her chin defiantly, even as a flush of mingled guilt and resentment heated her cheeks. "I never get caught," she muttered.
Levi snorted. "You just did. You're damned lucky it was me and not the MPs." He cocked his head, scrutinizing her thin, grimy face. Something like sympathy flickered in his eyes. "Listen up, because I'm only going to say this once. Find honest work, kid. Scrounge and save and file your teeth on your pride if you have to, but stay on the straight and narrow. You're not a little girl anymore - a year and you'll be old enough to enlist. Don't throw your life away before it's even begun."
Anja glanced away, shoulders hunching. Part of her wanted to argue, to scream that he had no idea what it was like, that his shiny officer's pin wouldn't keep him fed in the gutters. But deep down, she knew he was right. This path led nowhere good.
"Why do you care?" she asked instead, hating the plaintive note that crept into her voice.
Levi just looked at her for a long moment before turning away. "Believe it or not, you remind me of someone I used to know. A lifetime ago. Consider this a warning, from one survivor to another - get your act together before it's too late." He paused, then half turned to glance at her over his shoulder. "I won't be so lenient if I catch you again."
With that, he strode off, vanishing into the crowd as quickly as he'd appeared. Anja stared after him, a strange mix of emotions roiling in her gut. Then she shook herself and set out in the opposite direction, Levi's words turning over and over in her mind.
Anja pushed open the door to the ramshackle house she shared with Armin, Eren, and Mikasa, her steps heavy with exhausted resignation. Inside, she found her friends clustered around the rickety table, their heads bent together in close discussion. They glanced up as she entered, relief and worry warring across their faces.
"Anja! Where have you been?" Armin asked, standing to greet her. Dark shadows smudged the delicate skin beneath his too-bright eyes, a testament to the toll the past year had taken on him. "We were getting worried."
She managed a tired smile and dug into her pockets, tossing an apple to each of them. "Oh, you know. Around. Brought you guys some treats though!"
Armin frowned as he caught his, turning it over in his thin hands like it might disappear. "You have to stop doing this, Anja. It's too risky. If you get arrested..."
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"That's what I keep telling her," Mikasa said quietly, taking a delicate bite of her own apple. In the past year, she had grown taller and leaner, her features sharpening into something austere and lovely. "Some officers came by today. They're hiring down at the stables. Decent wages too."
Anja wrinkled her nose at the thought of shoveling manure all day, but she couldn't deny the allure of steady - and legal - pay. "I'll think about it," she hedged.
Eren snorted, tossing his apple core into the small fire grate. Out of all of them, he had changed the most, his boyish features hardening into something fierce and unyielding. "Personally, I say those bastards had it coming. They turn us out to starve, then have the nerve to whine about a little petty theft?" He shook his head in disgust.
"Just be careful, okay?" Armin pleaded, catching Anja's hand to give it a quick squeeze. His fingers felt cold and bony, his grip weaker than she remembered. "We need you around. All of us, we have to stick together."
Something in Anja's chest twisted painfully at the naked concern in her friend's voice. Swallowing past the sudden tightness in her throat, she nodded. "I know. I will. I just..." She trailed off, shaking her head. "Never mind. I think I'm going to get some air before I try my luck at the stables."
Ignoring Mikasa's questioning look, Anja slipped back out into the bustling streets. Her feet turned down the now-familiar path almost of their own accord, carrying her to the narrow alley between the two warehouses that once held the refugees, the little nook that had become her bolthole.
More often than not these days, it was occupied by a familiar blonde figure with a thousand-yard stare.
"Hey Annie," Anja called softly, settling down on an upturned crate a careful distance away.
Cold blue eyes cracked open to regard her flatly. "Anja," Annie said by way of greeting. As always, her tone was utterly inflectionless. She sat with her back against the wall, one knee drawn up to her chest, her arms wrapped loosely around it. Her ever-present gray hoodie was worn and frayed at the edges, but meticulously clean.
They weren't friends, not exactly. Anja wasn't entirely sure what they were - allies of convenience, maybe, or just two wounded animals occasionally seeking shelter in the same dark den. There was an unspoken understanding between them, a mutual recognition of old hurts that ran soul-deep. They rarely spoke of their pasts or troubles, but the silence was somehow companionable anyway.
Anja dug into her jacket and withdrew the last apple, slightly bruised but still perfectly edible. She tossed it to Annie, who caught it deftly, her reflexes whip-quick despite her languid posture. "Thought you might like this."
Annie raised one pale eyebrow as she turned the fruit over in her calloused palm, her fingers long and tapered. "How thoughtful," she said dryly. But she took a bite anyway, her small white teeth flashing.
"Least I could do," Anja said with a small shrug, stretching out her legs and crossing them at the ankle. "No work today?"
"Not really. You?"
Anja made a face, tipping her head back against the alley wall. "Stables, in a bit. The glamorous life of a reformed thief slash child laborer."
Annie huffed out what might have been a laugh, there and gone too quickly to be sure. "So you finally got caught, huh? Told you you were sloppy."
"How did you-" Anja cut herself off, shaking her head ruefully. "Nevermind. Let me guess, takes one to know one?"
Annie's lips quirked in what was almost a smile, a small, secretive thing. "Something like that." She took another bite of apple, chewing slowly, her eyes distant. "So why are you here?"
Anja picked at a loose thread on her sleeve, worrying it between her fingers. "I was hoping you might show me a few more of those moves. The ones you used to kick my ass last time. Since I... almost got caught today and I figured they might come in handy, in case it happens again."
"You mean handy for your thieving?" Annie asked bluntly, her gaze sharpening on Anja's face. At her guilty flush, she shook her head. "I'm not judging. But if you're serious about changing careers...Never mind."
She stood abruptly, tossing the apple core aside and beckoning for Anja to do the same. "Come on then. Let's see if we can't hammer some actual technique into that thick skull of yours."
The next hour passed in a blur of sweat, curses, and freshly-blooming bruises as Annie put Anja through her paces with characteristic pitiless efficiency. By the time Annie finally called a halt, Anja was aching in places she hadn't known existed.
"Again," Anja panted, wiping blood from her split lip with the back of her hand. "I almost had you that time."
Annie snorted, not even winded. She flicked a strand of pale hair out of her eyes. "You didn't. And you won't. But you are blocking less with your face, so there's an improvement." She cocked her head, studying Anja with an unreadable expression. "You're still set on the military?"
Anja nodded firmly, squaring her shoulders despite the protest of sore muscles. "As soon as I'm old enough. You know that."
Something flickered behind Annie's icy gaze, there and gone too quick to parse. "Anja-"
But whatever she was about to say was lost as the bell tower began to chime the hour. Anja cursed and scrambled to her feet, dusting off her pants.
"Damn, I have to go. Same time next week?" she asked hopefully.
Annie hesitated, then gave a short nod. "Don't be late," was all she said. Then she turned and slipped away, her footsteps soundless on the cobblestones.
Anja watched her go, a strange sense of foreboding prickling the back of her neck, raising the fine hairs there. Then she shook it off and reached beneath her shirt, pulling out Heinrik's pendant. The metal was warm from resting against her skin, the etched design seeming to dance and shift in the fading light. Crossed swords, arched serpentine vines, a wolf's head with eyes that glinted with an almost lifelike intensity...
"What should I do, Heinrik?" Anja whispered, running her thumb over the familiar grooves. "I can't keep living like this."
She closed her eyes, imagining her brother's face, the gentle curve of his smile. "You're better than this, Anja," he seemed to whisper. "You know what you have to do."
Anja's grip tightened on the pendant. She knew what she had to do. It wouldn't be easy, but she owed it to Heinrik, to herself, to be more than just another street rat.
With a deep breath, Anja tucked the pendant back beneath her shirt and hurried towards the stables, a new sense of purpose fueling her steps.
The days settled into a wearying routine of hard labor and meager meals. True to her promise, Anja stopped stealing, no matter how her stomach cramped with hunger. In the evenings, she collapsed into her bedroll, feeling a hundred years old.
And yet, despite the exhaustion, Anja felt a sense of pride kindling in her chest. She was doing it. She was making an honest living, just like she'd promised. It wasn't much, but it was a start.
A week later, Anja returned to the alley for her meeting with Annie, a spring in her step despite the long day ahead. But when she arrived, she found their nook empty.
"Maybe she's just running late," Anja muttered to herself, settling onto her usual crate to wait.
But as the hours ticked by and the shadows lengthened, Annie still didn't appear. It was as though she had vanished into thin air.
Anja told herself not to take it personally. It wasn't like they'd made any promises. Annie had her own life, her own struggles. She'd show up again when she was ready.
But as the weeks crept past and the alley remained steadfastly Annie-less, an unnameable dread began to curdle in Anja's gut. She found herself obsessively scanning the faces in the crowded streets, hoping for a glimpse of that distinctive blonde hair pulled back in its severe bun, those icy blue eyes and curling lips. But Annie was simply gone, as if she'd never existed at all, a figment of Anja's imagination.
She didn't realize how much she'd come to rely on those sporadic meetings, that undemanding companionship, until it was abruptly ripped away. The loss hit her like a physical blow, leaving her feeling oddly adrift, unmoored. She threw herself into her work with a single-minded intensity that bordered on self-destructive, pushing herself to the point of exhaustion, trying to sublimate the gnawing ache of yet another abandonment.
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Another year crawled past in an interminable slog of grit and grime and the endlessly turning gears of survival. And then, at long last, came the day Anja and her friends had been dreaming of since Shiganshina fell. The day she was finally old enough to enlist in the military.
She stood in formation with the other recruits, wearing a brand new uniform, chin held high under the scalding midday sun. Their drill instructor, a tall, bald man with severe eyes and a sharp goatee, stalked up and down the ranks like a prowling wolf, his voice booming as he heaped abuse on the hapless teenagers.
But as he passed Anja, he merely glanced at her, his gaze flickering with something like recognition before moving on. She frowned, puzzled by the lack of verbal assault, but quickly dismissed it as the instructor rounded on the red headed boy next to her.
"You there! What's your name, maggot?"
"F-Floch Forster, sir!" the boy stammered, his face pale and his eyes wide with terror.
"Well then, Forster, what the hell are you doing here? You think you've got what it takes to be a soldier? To face the Titans and come out alive?" the instructor roared, looming over the trembling recruit.
As Floch stuttered out a response, Anja kept her gaze fixed straight ahead, her thoughts turned inward as her heart pounding wildly against her ribs. This was it. The first step on the long road to taking back everything the Titans had stolen. The chance to finally fight back after so many years of helplessness. To become more than just another scrabbling refugee, another victim.
She let her burning gaze sweep across the neat rows of her fellow cadets, finding Mikasa's steady determination, Armin's nervous resolve, Eren's barely leashed fury. They had all come so far from the lost children who had stumbled out of the ashes of their home. Now they would learn how to be soldiers, warriors, titan-slayers. They would learn how to take back what was stolen from them all those years ago.
For Shiganshina. For Mom. For Heinrik. For everyone and everything that had been devoured by this cruel world.
This she swore, on her very life-
"You're the one I'm talking to! You! Who are you?!" Shadis's voice rang out again, jolting Anja from her thoughts. A commotion broke out a few rows ahead, drawing her attention. She craned her neck, trying to see what had caused the disturbance.
"Sasha Braus, from Dauper Village, Wall Rose South District!"
The ranks shifted and parted to let the instructor pass, her heart stopped dead in her chest.
There, standing tall and impassive amidst the sea of anxious faces...
Anja blinked once, twice, certain her eyes were playing tricks on her. It couldn't be. Annie had vanished over a year ago, without a word or a trace. Anja had searched for her, had waited for her, had finally resigned herself to the fact that she was gone for good.
And yet, here she was, as real and solid as the ground beneath Anja's feet.
Anja stared, her mind reeling. This couldn't be happening. Annie couldn't be here, couldn't be standing mere feet away after all this time. It had to be a dream, a hallucination, a cruel trick of the mind.
But as the ceremony wore on and Annie remained, solid and unmoving, Anja was forced to confront the impossible truth.
She had thought herself prepared for anything. But nothing could have readied her for this, for the sudden reappearance of the girl who had vanished like a ghost.