“No need for the sir.” I respond in a neutral tone. ‘What may I call you then?’ Looking over, “I don’t know.” Seeing Armin turn towards me confused I feel my cheeks heat up, ‘what’s your name?” Hearing him ask the question again I could imagine my whole face turning pink in embarrassment, elaborating, “I, don’t remember.”

Understanding flashing through his eyes, ‘oh.’ The roles reversed, somehow, I can’t bring myself to say anything. In silence we both just stand there, neither of us breaking this dreary atmosphere enhanced by the horribly maintained alley. Gathering my resolve, my mouth opens only to fumble, “I... I can’t recall it.”

With his head still down I pick up, ‘I understand, sorry.’ Letting out a sigh, I’ll need to come up with something, “Just call me what you’d like to.” ‘Okay, sir.’ hearing Armin not only speak under his breath clearly upset along with that, sir, having me let out another sigh. When will I get to just relax? “Armin, let's go.”

Arm outstretched he takes my hand, beginning our struggle, but also our bond. Now we will survive this world, together. Where should we go? If I take him out of town it would only endanger him. With the forest, it’s too dangerous for him, it’s already taken too many of those close to me. What am I thinking I should just ask him if he has an idea, “Do you know anywhere we may be able to stay?”

Seeing a small nod, “lead the way.” Noticing him appear to struggle and be in pain I step in front and get on one knee, “get on my back.” ‘N-no, I-I couldn’t burden you more.’ Struggling not to role my eyes, “your no burden.” With a small round of back-and-forth Armin got on my back. With him on my back we were able to move much quicker, following Armins' directions we eventually made it to the, slums? I thought I was already in the worse part of town; guess I was wrong. Continuing on, most of the buildings, if you can even call them that are rubble. What a waste of space. Spotting a large storage shed that's mostly intact I make my way towards it. A bit of fixing and this place will be good.

The walls appear to be made of hard wood while the roof is a clayish material. Now this is the architecture I remember, small and simple. Not those big clunky buildings. Moving towards the somewhat large door I listen for any sounds. Just because it seems abandoned doesn’t mean it is. Not hearing a thing, I attempt to push open the door with my shoulder.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

The door not budging I go to put Armin down, noticing his shallow breaths I scrap that idea. Need to find another way. Eyes darting around taking in everything I let out what must be my hundredth sigh today. Why can’t anything just be simple? Seeing no other way, I slowly and gently lay Armin down on a nearby pile of what appears to be leaves or something similar. With meticulous steps back, watching for anything that may make a noise.

Facing the door once again I kneel looking into the lock, it doesn’t seem to be locked, I’ll just have to do that. Placing my hand atop the lock, taking deep breaths. Okay, expand inward, more, more, with audible cracks starting to occur I got more and more exhausted. With a final resounding crack, the large door started swinging inward. Craning my head inside, dust is coating everything.

The holes in the roofing give enough stray light to see in one corner a table and in another a shelf. The whole place appears to have been cleaned out with the whole place being deserted. This will work. Picking Armin up again I delicately step inside.

/ Morning /

Hearing Armin stir from his rest I go over. Having spent the rest of the last day and night cleaning and planning how to patch up the roof. Winters can be harsh around here if you're not prepared. In the village every winter we ended up having deaths from sickness and cold. Didn't help that the king took most of our supplies. Armins eyes slowly opening, ‘father?’ Feeling my face go a bit blank, “no?” His eyes gaining clarity my cheeks quickly go back to normal, ‘I’m sorry, sir, I fell asleep, I-I.'

Why does he start to cry so quickly? I already said he was no burden. ‘Burdened you,’ “stop.” Looking him in the eyes, “I already said you aren't a burden. We need to decide how we will survive, now, we don’t have time for this.” Did I come off as angry, mean, haa, I already feel it getting colder. Watching him shiver at me I clarify, “the winter season is near.” ‘O-okay’

Sitting down my hand touches the floor, looking at it a thin film of dust is there. A full night and it’s still like this. “How do others around here survive?” It’s going to take a while to build up his confidence, isn't it, so much for quickly setting him up and leaving. ‘I-I’ve heard of others running errands for the groups around, or joining the groups if-if they pass the initiation.’ Groups? “What do these groups do?”

‘I-I don’t know, I’m sorry.’ Groups, around here, inconspicuous, possible drug trade? Perhaps just gangs, either or could be problematic. “Do you know how many groups there are, just how many do you know of.” ‘Four, maybe more’ Realizing my mistake I slow down. “Do you know how big they are?” ‘I-I’ve heard the patrols say there are too many for them to handle, bu-but that was some time ago.’ This could get precarious.