Attack on Titan: Wolfborn

Chapter VII: Acceptance

It had been a week since that day, her body still ached like hell, but it wasn’t the physical wounds that hurt her the most, the biggest pain she faced was in her own mind, she couldn’t bear to look at her friends in the eye as they dragged her battered self all the way back to camp.

Anja had been sent to the infirmary straight away, and she just lay there, staring blankly at the ceiling as the late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the room. Still haunted daily, by the memories, of what she had unleashed, of that thing she kept chained within her, how it painted the woods red with the blood of those slavers.

Shadis had been sensible enough not to ask her any questions about what happened. But the weight of her actions hung heavy on Anja's shoulders, an inescapable shroud of guilt and self-loathing that threatened to suffocate her.

She flexed her bandaged hands, wincing at the dull ache that radiated up her arms. The physical pain was nothing compared to the turmoil raging in her mind.

The savage glee she had taken in the slaughter, the twisted smile that had stretched her blood-flecked lips as she tore into the men like a rabid animal...

That was something else entirely. Something dark and primal, terrifying in its intensity. A part of her so depraved and unnatural she had fought countless times to push away. How could she reconcile that with the person she thought she was? The person she wanted to be?

Anja squeezed her eyes shut, a shuddering breath escaping her lungs. In the darkness behind her eyelids, memories played out in vivid, merciless detail.

No, not just of the forest, but of other moments throughout her life when that thing inside of her had reared its ugly head - moments she had always tried to forget, to put behind her.

One memory in particular stood out, sharp and painful. It was six years ago…

The sun was warm on her face as she sat cross-legged on the floor of her mother's shop, the soft whisper of fabric and the steady rhythm of the spinning wheel a familiar backdrop to her thoughts.

"Anja, sweetie, pay attention," her mother chided gently, guiding Anja's small hands back to the shirt she was meant to be mending. "You'll never learn if you don't focus."

Anja sighed, the fabric heavy and unwieldy between her fingers. "I don't want to learn," she mumbled, keeping her eyes fixed on her clumsy stitches. "I want to go play with my friends."

Her mother's hands stilled, a flicker of sadness passing over her face. "I know you do, sweetie. But this is important too. Someday, this shop will be yours. Don't you want to be able to provide for yourself, for your own family?"

Anja fidgeted, the needle nearly slipping from her grasp. "I guess," she said, but her heart wasn't in it. In truth, she couldn't imagine spending her days cooped up in this stuffy shop, stitching and mending until her fingers bled.

She wanted to be like her big brother, brave and strong. Heinrik had left to join the Cadet Corps a few months ago, and his absence was a constant ache in her chest, a hollow space where his laughter and warmth used to be.

"I miss him too, you know," her mother said, her expression softening into something sad and knowing as she reached out to smooth Anja's hair back from her face.

"But he's following his heart, just like you will someday. I just want you to have options, Anja... There's more to life than fighting."

Anja leaned into her mother's touch. "I just want to help, to protect Heinrik, like he always does for us," she whispered, the words small and fragile in the hush of the shop.

Emma sighed, pressing a kiss to the crown of Anja's head. "I know you do, sweetie. And I won't stand in your way, if that's truly the path you choose. But you have time yet to decide." She pulled back, her smile not quite reaching her eyes. "For now, let's just focus on getting this mending done, hmm? Then you can go play with your friends."

Anja nodded, bending her head back to her task with renewed determination. Maybe her mother was right, maybe she had other options... But deep down, in a place she barely understood, Anja knew that there was a part of her that would never comprehend, that would never consider a quiet life. Besides, what would her brother think of her? That she was a coward? She wanted to show him she could be strong too.

She shoved the thought away, focusing on the steady in-and-out of the needle, the soft rasp of thread through fabric.

As she mended the last tear, she stretched out the fabric, smiling proudly at her work.

"I'm done, Mom. Can I go play now?" Anja asked, setting down the shirt she'd been clumsily stitching.

Emma looked up from her work, her careworn face softening with a smile. "Of course, sweetie. Just be back in time for dinner, alright?"

Anja nodded eagerly, already halfway out the door. "I will! Love you, Mom!"

Finally released from her duties, she burst out of the shop and into the busy streets of Shiganshina, the sun already high in the sky. The air was filled with the scent of baking bread and the chatter of the market square, hawkers crying their wares as housewives haggled over prices.

She wove through the crowds with ease, dodging carts and horses as she made her way towards the canal where she knew her friends would be playing. She passed by the little shop where her mother always sent her to buy thread and fabric, the kindly old owner waving at her through the window.

It didn't take long to find her friends, Jana and Ilse, as expected, they were sitting by the edge of the canal, engrossed in a game of marbles. The two were sisters, a year or two older than Anja. Heinrik had introduced them to her, and the three of them had been friends ever since.

Anja! Over here!" Jana called, waving her over.

Anja plopped down beside them, crossing her legs and leaning forward to examine the game. A dozen or so marbles of different colors and sizes were spread out, chalk circles drawn around a pocket of big marbles.

"Who's winning?"

"I am," Ilse said smugly, flicking a cat's eye shooter with a practiced hand. It clattered against a cobalt swirly, sending the bigger marble spinning out of the chalk ring. Ilse scooped it up with a grin, holding it aloft. "Look at this beauty. Won it off Dieter fair and square."

"Wow," Anja breathed, reaching out to touch the marble's glossy surface. "He must've been mad."

Jana giggled, tucking a wayward strand of dirty-blond hair behind her ear. "He sure was! Didn't stop whining the whole rest of the game. If it wasn't for Heinrik, he would have taken it back." She turned to Anja with bright eyes. "Oh! Where's Heinrik? Is he coming to play with us too?"

Anja's smile faded, a now-familiar pang of loneliness twisting in her gut. "No. He's gone to join the cadets... He won't be back for a while."

"Oh, Heinrik," Jana sighed dreamily, clasping her hands to her chest. "He's so brave and handsome."

Ilse rolled her eyes, fond exasperation flickering over her features, her brown eyes steady and sharp. "You're being weird again, Jana." To Anja, she said, "I bet you miss him a lot, huh?"

Anja nodded, blinking back the sudden sting of tears. "Yeah. But he promised he'd write, and that he'd visit as soon as he could."

She straightened up, injecting a note of fierce pride into her voice. "He's going to be a hero, I know it. Maybe he'll even go outside the walls."

Jana nodded vigorously, her eyes shining with excitement. "Just like in the stories! Oh, wouldn't that be amazing, Ilse?"

"It would be best if he didn't. It's dangerous out there, nothing more than titans-" Before Ilse could finish her sentence, a shadow fell over them, a familiar sneering voice cutting through the air.

"Well, well, well. If it isn't Ilse and her baby sister."

The boy's gaze shifted to Anja, and he feigned surprise. "Oh look, and the pathetic little runt of the Wolf litter. Where's your stupid brother, huh?" He smirked at Anja, towering over her.

Anja's head snapped up, her eyes narrowing as she took in the three older boys looming over them. She recognized the ringleader, Dieter, with his black hair and cold blue eyes. He was flanked by his usual cronies, Stefan and Peter, their faces twisted into identical leers.

"Off to get himself killed as a cadet already? What a shame. He'll make a fine Titan snack." Dieter's cronies snickered beside him.

"What do you want, Dieter?" Ilse asked coldly, her hand tightening around the pouch of marbles at her waist.

Dieter's eyes flicked to the movement, his smirk widening. "Looks like you've got something of mine there."

Ilse scowled, shifting the bag of marbles out of his reach. "I already beat you for it, Dieter. You want it that badly, win it back."

Dieter's smile turned ugly, a flash of something cruel in his eyes. "Seems to me, without your guard dog around, I can take whatever I want." His gaze cut to Anja, a sneer pulling at his lips. "Big brother's not here to save you now, huh?"

Anja bristled, something hot and furious rising up to choke her as she pushed to her feet. "Leave her alone, Dieter. I'm warning you." Her voice shook, her small hands curling into fists at her sides.

Dieter barked out a laugh, ugly and mocking. "Oh, you're warning me? That's cute, pipsqueak." He took a step forward, looming over her. Anja barely reached his chest. "What're you gonna do, cry at me?"

She just looked impotently as the boy effortlessly pushed past her, shoving her away like she wasn’t there at all.

Everything happened very quickly then. Dieter reaching for Ilse's pouch of marbles, her friend twisting away with a yelp. In the scuffle, she lost her balance and fell, skinning her knee on the rough cobblestones.

A hand firmly gripped Anja. Then suddenly she was falling backwards too, her arms wheeling as she tried to catch herself.

Anja hit the ground hard, her head snapping back against the rough cobblestones. Pain exploded behind her eyes, sparks dancing across her vision. Through the ringing in her ears, she could dimly hear Ilse's pained cry, could see the bright smear of blood on her skinned knee.

A red haze descended over her vision, her heartbeat pounding in her ears like war drums.

She surged to her feet with a snarl, something hot and vicious flooding her veins. Dieter was the first thing in sight. She lunged at him, a scream of pure fury tearing from her throat as she bowled him over, small fists slamming into any part of him she could reach.

Surprise was on her side, and the strapping older boy stumbled back under the sudden onslaught.

Dieter yelped, trying to throw her off, but Anja clung on like a leech, pummeling him with a strength she didn't know she possessed. He tried desperately to fight back, but Anja barely felt the blows, lost to the siren song of violence singing in her veins.

She kept hitting relentlessly, heedless of the pain.

Dimly, as if from far away, she could hear Jana and Ilse yelling her name, their voices high and frightened. But she didn't care, couldn't care. She was lost to the siren song of violence singing in her blood.

Dieter's friends tried to drag Anja off, kicking and punching, but she barely registered them at all, her bloodshot eyes focused solely on Dieter, his face now covered in red.

She didn't stop until one of them landed a lucky blow, catching her in the temple and sending her flying. Anja fell off Dieter, rolling to a stop near the edge of the canal.

The impact knocked the breath from her lungs, but she was already scrabbling to her feet to launch herself at him again, the two other boys blocking her path, their eyes wide with fear.

But then there were hands on her shoulders, dragging her back. Adult hands, strong and unyielding.

She thrashed and kicked, still lost to the haze of bloodlust, but the grip held firm.

"Enough!" a sharp voice snapped, cutting through the red mist. "What the hell is going on here?"

Anja blinked, the world coming back into focus as the haze slowly drained away, leaving her cold and shaking in its wake.

It felt like she had just awoken from one of her nightmares, the details fuzzy, thoughts and memories all jumbled up, already drifting away. But there was an overwhelming feeling of wrongness. It hadn't been a dream. There was a fleeting warmth on her hands, blood dripping, painting the ground red.

Her glazed eyes shifted forward. Dieter's friends were shaking where they stood, their furtive gazes darting around. Behind them, Dieter laid on the cobblestones, blood splattered all over, his chest heaving slowly, erratically. A soldier knelt by his side.

Anja looked up to see two members of the Garrison glaring down at her, their faces twisted in a mix of disapproval and shock.

"We didn’t do anything! She attacked our friend!" Stefan babbled, pointing a trembling finger at Anja. "She's crazy!"

A tall blond haired soldier tightened his grip on Anja's arm. "That true, kid?" His breath reeking of ale.

Anja swallowed hard, sudden fear clawing at her throat. She glanced desperately at the crowd that had formed, her eyes pleading as they landed on Jana and Ilse, but they wouldn't meet her gaze, their faces pale and frightened as they huddled together.

"I'll take it from here," a gruff voice cut in. An older soldier with graying black hair and a grizzled beard stepped forward, his pale amber eyes fixing on Anja with an unreadable expression.

The soldier didn’t utter a word to her all the way back, but he kept looking back at her, a sort of recognition hidden beneath, before she knew it, Anja found herself back home, her mother's worried face swimming into view as the soldier pushed her through the door.

"Albert? What happened?" Her mother cried, rushing forward to gather Anja in her arms.

The soldier relinquished his hold, his expression stern. "Your daughter attacked a boy, Emma."

Emma gasped, her hands flying to her mouth. "No, that can't be. Anja would never-"

"I saw it, what she did to him," the soldier said flatly. "First your boy, now her? Are you going to get your children under control, or do I have to do it for you?"

Emma flinched as if struck, her blue eyes filling with tears. "I'm sorry. It won't happen again, I swear it."

"It better not. I only brought her here because of Heinrik, but this is the last time, you hear me?" With a final, warning glare at Anja, he turned on his heel and left, slamming the door behind him.

Her mother rounded on her, Emma’s face a mask of shock and disappointment. "Anja, is this true?" she whispered, her voice trembling. "Did you really hurt that boy?"

Anja looked away, shock still coursing through her veins. She tried to process everything, a small voice in the back of her mind insisting that she had been justified, a part of her had even enjoyed what she did. But then a sickening shame flooded in to take its place.

"He hurt Ilse," she mumbled, scuffing her toe in the dirt. "I... had to stop him."

Her mother closed her eyes, grief etching deep lines into her face. "Go to your room, Anja. We'll discuss this later."

Anja obeyed, slinking up the stairs with her tail between her legs. She couldn’t comprehend then why her mother cried; she had only had done what Heinrik would have. And now she called Anja to help in the shop only at night. She stayed in her room as the days passed, listening to the whispers of customers floating up from below.

"Did you hear? The seamstress' daughter, attacking that poor boy..."

"Always knew there was something wrong with that one. The mother tries, but with the father gone, what can you expect?"

"They say the brother was a troublemaker too. Guess it runs in the family."

Anja squeezed her eyes shut, hot tears leaking from beneath her lids to track down her cheeks. She hadn't meant to hurt Dieter, not really. She was just trying to protect her friends, like Heinrik did, she had just wanted to make him stop, to wipe that cruel smirk off his face and make him leave Ilse alone.

But now, hearing the judgment and scorn in the voices below, she wondered if maybe they were right. Maybe there was something wrong with her, some dark seed of violence and anger that had always lurked within.

The next few weeks passed in a blur of whispers and sidelong glances. Her mother kept Anja close, refusing to let her out of the house even to run simple errands. Anja took to sitting by her bedroom window, watching the world go by without her, aching for a glimpse of Jana and Ilse's familiar faces. She hoped that they would come looking for her, but they never did.

Anja couldn't stand to see the worry in her mother's eyes, the way her gaze would drift to the empty chair at the dinner table where Heinrik used to sit.

One day, unable to bear it any longer, Anja waited for her mother to be distracted and snuck out of the house. She had a half-formed notion to find Dieter, to somehow make amends for what she'd done. Maybe then things could go back to the way they were before.

It didn't take long for her to locate Dieter's home. She found him sitting out front in a chair, his face a mottled patchwork of bruises and cuts.

But it was his eyes that made Anja's blood run cold – they had lost their blueish glint. Now they were flat and glassy, staring off at nothing as drool trickled from the slack corner of his mouth.

"Dieter?" Anja whispered, taking a hesitant step forward. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you…"

Dieter's head lolled towards her, his gaze sharpening with sudden, agonizing clarity. Raw, animal terror twisted his deformed features, a low, keening moan pushing past his lips as he cringed away from her.

"Muh...muh..." he slurred, the words mangled and barely coherent. "Mon...ster..."

And then his mother was there, shoving Anja away with a shriek of rage. "You!" she spat, her face twisted with grief and loathing. "You stay away from my boy, you little beast! Haven't you done enough?"

Anja stumbled back, tears welling up to blur her vision. "I'm sorry," she choked out. "I never meant to-"

"Meant to what? Cripple him?" Dieter's mother cut her off, something wild and anguished contorting her features. "Look at what you did to my boy! You're a menace, just like your no-good father and that brother of yours."

She advanced on Anja, her eyes fevered and bright. "Get out of here, savage! Go back to the forest you crawled out of and leave decent folk alone!"

Anja turned and ran, sobs hitching in her throat as the woman's words chased her down the street. Savage, they echoed in her head, over and over until it was all she could hear. Beast. Monster.

Her feet carried her through the winding streets, past the shop and the marketplace until she reached the little footbridge by the canal. The quiet spot where she, Heinrik, Jana, and Ilse had whiled away so many long summer afternoons.

But when she got there, stuttering to a halt with her chest heaving and her face tracked with tears, she found she wasn't alone.

Jana and Ilse were there, huddled close together in the fading afternoon light. They scrambled to their feet as Anja approached, their faces pale and pinched with fear.

"I... Where have you been? I..." Anja asked, still crying as she moved closer, then stopped as she looked at her friends.

Ilse took a step back, something like revulsion twisting her features. "Stay back," she whispered, tugging Jana behind her. "Our mother says you're dangerous. That you might attack us too."

Anja flinched as if slapped, a low, wounded noise catching in her throat. "I would never... I was only trying to protect you... you're my friends," she choked out, hugging herself as if to hold in the pieces of her breaking heart. "Please, I...I need you."

Ilse just shook her head, Jana hiding behind her, tears glimmering in her own eyes. "I'm sorry... But we can't...we're not..." She trailed off, her throat working as she swallowed hard. "You're different now. Wrong. Everyone says so."

And with that, they turned and fled, their footsteps echoing like gunshots in the heavy silence. Anja stared after them, something cold and jagged lodging in her chest, a shard of ice that burned and ached with every hitching breath.

Anja was jolted back to the present as the memories dissipated, leaving her to grapple with the weight and fear of history repeating itself.. Would she be left alone and friendless, shunned by everyone? Branded a monster?

Despite her best efforts, that ‘monster’ within her was always simmering just below the surface, waiting for its chance to break free.

But even as the fear and self-doubt threatened to consume her, a small, persistent voice in the back of her mind whispered that things were different now. She had friends, real friends, who had seen her at her worst and still stood at her side.

“Armin…" she whispered to herself, he was there when she had been at her lowest, abandoned and alone, her thoughts wandered back to the day she met him.

She had run as far as she could, leaving the judging eyes and whispered recriminations of the town behind. She ran until she saw no one around, finding a lone oak tree by the river.

Slowly, numbly, she sank to the ground, her back pressed against the rough bark of the old oak tree. She drew her knees up against her chest, hugging them close as great, shuddering sobs began to shake her thin frame.

She wasn't sure how long she sat there, lost in the aching wasteland of her grief and shame. The sun had sunk below the horizon and the first stars were winking to life in the velvet sky by the time a soft, hesitant voice broke through the haze of her misery.

"Um... excuse me? Are you alright?"

Anja's head snapped up, her tear-swollen eyes widening as she took in the boy standing awkwardly before her. He was small and slight, with a shock of blond hair falling into wide, earnest blue eyes. He had a book clutched to his chest like a shield, his grip white-knuckled and anxious.

She couldn't meet his eyes, waiting for the inevitable looks of fear or disgust. But they never came. Instead, the boy shifted awkwardly from foot to foot, clearly torn between politeness and the urge to flee.

"I can go, if you want to be alone," he said at last, his voice hesitant.

Anja sniffed, turning her face away to hide the evidence of her tears. "It's okay," she mumbled. "I was just... I'll go."

She made to stand, but the boy took a step forward, something hesitant and curious in his expression. "You don't have to," he said quietly. "I mean, if you want to be alone, I understand. But... you look like you could use a friend."

Anja stared at him, surprised by the genuine concern in his voice. "I... I don't really have any friends," she admitted, the words catching in her throat. "Not anymore."

The boy's eyes softened, and he slowly lowered himself to sit beside her, leaving a careful distance between them. "I'm Armin," he said, offering a small, tentative smile. "What's your name?"

"Anja," she replied, her voice hoarse from crying.

Armin nodded, his gaze drifting to the book in his hands. He ran his fingers over the worn cover, something wistful and longing in his expression.

Despite herself, Anja felt a flicker of curiosity. "What are you reading?"

Armin blinked, glancing up at her with a hint of surprise. His fingers tightened on the cover, a flicker of something guarded and defensive crossing his face.

But then he seemed to register the genuine interest in her eyes, the complete lack of judgment, and some of the tension eased from his shoulders.

"Oh... It's about," he said slowly, as if testing the waters, "the world beyond the walls."

Anja's eyes widened, leaning forward slightly. "Beyond the walls?" she echoed. "I didn't know there were any books about that."

Armin shrugged, a hint of a flush rising in his cheeks. "There aren't many," he admitted. "And most people think they're just stories. Fairy tales."

He glanced up at her, something vulnerable and hopeful in his eyes. "But I don't think they are. I think there's so much more out there, waiting to be discovered. Just imagine... mountains taller than the walls, deserts that go on forever, and a place where there's water, as far as the eye can see..."

His voice took on a dreamy, faraway quality, his eyes shining with a fevered sort of intensity. Anja found herself leaning closer, caught up in his enthusiasm.

"It sounds amazing," she said softly. "I wish I could see it."

Armin blinked, seeming to come back to himself. He ducked his head, a shy smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"I could... I could read some of it to you, if you want," he offered hesitantly. "I mean, it might help take your mind off of... whatever's bothering you."

Anja felt a lump rise in her throat, sudden tears prickling at the corners of her eyes. It had been so long since someone had shown her such simple, unprompted kindness.

"I'd like that," she whispered, swiping at her eyes with the back of her hand.

Armin's smile widened, and he scooted closer, holding the book out so she could see the faded illustrations on the pages.

"I don't mind at all," he said. And then he began to read, his soft, lilting voice painting vivid pictures of lands and wonders Anja had never dared to imagine.

As she listened, letting the gentle cadence of Armin's words wash over her, Anja felt something ease in her chest. The anger and sadness and crushing self-loathing were still there, simmering just below the surface.

The memory released Anja like a sigh, depositing her back into the stark white confines of the infirmary. Even as the details began to fade, the warmth of that long-ago moment of connection lingered, a small, steady light in the darkness of her thoughts.

Armin had been the first, she realized, to look at her and see not a monster, but a lost person, in need of a friend. He had been the first to offer her a glimpse of a world beyond the confines of her own pain and self-doubt.

But it wasn't the same, was it? What she had done now was much worse. She had killed for the first time. Was there something wrong with her, that she felt no regret in the back of her mind? A sickening pleasure at her actions?

It wasn't until Eren came to see her, about two weeks into her convalescence, that something finally seemed to shift.

"Hey, Anja," he greeted, ducking into the small, sun-dappled room that had become her whole world. "Figured you'd still be here, so I brought you some extra food. Heard the infirmary slop leaves a lot to be desired."

Anja managed a wan smile, pushing herself upright on the narrow cot. "Thanks, Eren. You're not wrong there."

Eren settled himself on the edge of the bed, his intense green eyes scanning her face. "How're those fingers healing up? Think you'll be rejoining us for training anytime soon?"

Anja glanced down at her bandaged hands, flexing them experimentally. "Nurses say it'll be a month and a half at least before I'm fully healed. But..." She hesitated. "They also said I seem to be recovering faster than expected. So maybe sooner."

"That's great news!" Eren said, his face splitting into a grin.

"We've missed having you around, you know. Just the other day, I laid Jean out flat during hand-to-hand practice. You should've seen the look on his stupid horse face. I swear, I thought he was gonna cry."

Anja huffed a laugh, but it sounded hollow even to her own ears. "Sorry I missed it."

Eren sobered, his expression turning serious. "Listen, Anja... I talked to the others. About what happened out there in the woods."

Anja stiffened, her heart suddenly pounding against her ribs. "Eren, don't-"

"I know what you're going through," he pushed on, undeterred. "Having blood on your hands. I've been there."

Anja blinked at him, thrown off balance. "What?"

Eren sighed, running a hand through his perpetually disheveled hair. "It was years ago, before Wall Maria fell. I had recently met Mikasa, actually." His eyes took on a distant cast, as if seeing something far away. "My father had taken me with him. We were just checking on them. We found her parents murdered. The killers were still near."

Anja's breath caught in her throat. She'd known Mikasa was adopted, that she and Eren had a bond that ran soul-deep, but this...

"They were traffickers, slavers," Eren continued, his voice hard.

"Animals.” He remarked with scorn in his voice. “The kind of scum that doesn't deserve to draw breath. And when I found them, I knew what had to be done... I killed them, Anja. In cold blood. Without a shred of remorse."

He looked up at her then, his gaze searing in its intensity. "I know the weight of that choice. The way it sits in your gut like lead. But I also know that it was necessary. That the world is better off without men like that in it."

Anja swallowed hard, her eyes stinging. "But... how do you live with it? The knowledge of what you're capable of?"

Eren reached out, gripping her unbandaged hand tight. "By recognizing it for what it is. Not murder, but justice. Those bastards in the woods... they got exactly what they deserved. And because of what you did, our friends are safe. Alive and whole, instead of sold off to a fate worse than death. Some may not see it that way yet, but they will."

He squeezed her fingers, his calluses rough against her skin. "You saved them, Anja. Saved yourself. And yeah, maybe you had to get your hands dirty to do it. But that's the world we live in. It's ugly and it's brutal and it's not fair. But we do whatever we have to, to protect the ones we love. No matter what, there's nothing wrong with that."

Anja closed her eyes, letting his words wash over her like a balm. Eren's words echoing in her mind. They resonated with a conviction she had long held close to her heart, a belief that had driven her forward even in her darkest moments.

As long as there are people left we care about, people we want to protect, no price is too high.

Hearing it from Eren now, in the wake of the horror she had endured, felt like a validation. A reminder that her actions, as brutal and violent as they may have been, were rooted in something pure. Something good.

She had been willing to sacrifice everything, even her own humanity, to keep them from harm.

"I... thank you, Eren," she managed at last, her voice hoarse with unshed tears. "For understanding. For not judging me."

"I'd never judge you for that," Eren said fiercely. "Besides, we always look out for each other, no matter what. Don't forget that."

He stayed with her awhile longer, filling her in on the goings-on of the camp and sharing lighthearted stories of their friends' antics. By the time he left, Anja felt lighter than she had in weeks, the burden on her soul not gone, but perhaps the slightest bit easier to bear.

The next week passed in a haze of healing and tentative self-forgiveness. Anja did her best to recover, pushing her body trying to regain the movement in her numbed fingers and marveling at the speed with which her wounds seemed to mend.

The doctors were baffled, muttering about lucky breaks and strong constitutions, but Anja paid them no mind. All that mattered was getting back on her feet, back to her training, back to her friends.

It wasn't long before Anja was finally released from the infirmary. That day was a joyous one. She stepped out into the bright sunshine of the training yard to find her friends gathered in a loose semi-circle, their faces splitting into wide grins at the sight of her.

Eren was the first to reach her, pulling her into a hug that lifted her feet clear off the ground.

Mikasa was next, her embrace rib-cracking but no less heartfelt.

"Easy there, don't wanna go back in!" Anja joked, patting Mikasa's back.

Armin followed close behind, his eyes shining as he wrapped his arms around Anja.

"Welcome back, Anja," Marco said warmly, clapping her on the shoulder. "It's good to have you with us again." His eyes darted away as soon as she looked back, a hint of unease in his gaze.

"Yeah, training just hasn't been the same without our fighter!" Connie crowed, dropping into an exaggerated fighting stance.

"I swear, half the instructors almost seem disappointed you're back. Think they were hoping you'd up and dis-"

He yelped as Sasha elbowed him sharply in the ribs, her expression horrified. "Connie! Shut up!"

But Anja just laughed, the sound rusty from disuse. "Nah, he's not wrong. I'm sure I gave the brass quite the headache."

"Well, I for one am glad you're alright," Thomas said, his usually jovial face serious. "You had us all pretty worried for a while there, Anja."

"We were afraid you might not come back," Mina added softly, her voice trembling slightly. She took a small step back as Anja turned to her, fear flickering in her large blue eyes.

Anja tried to ignore the pang of hurt at Mina's reaction, forcing a smile onto her face. "What? And let you guys have all the glory when retaking Shiganshina? I don't think so."

Christa stepped forward, reaching out to give Anja's hand a gentle squeeze. "We're just happy to have you back with us, safe and sound."

Beside her, Ymir's eyes narrowed, a flicker of jealousy crossing her sharp features. She shifted closer to Christa, not quite touching but making her presence known.

"Yeah, well, just don't go making a habit of scaring us like that, Wolf," the tall brunette said gruffly. "Place was getting way too boring without you around to liven things up with your daily asskickings from Leonhart. Most entertainment I've had since Sasha's potato stunt on day one."

Sasha squawked indignantly, but Anja just grinned

Ymir paused, a sly grin tugging at her lips. "Though I will say, I've been sleeping a lot better without your nighttime mutterings. Oh well, you win some you lose some."

Anja just shook her head, glancing around. To her surprise, there was Annie, hanging back from the others with her typical air of cool detachment. But when their eyes met, the blonde gave her a small, almost imperceptible nod, the ghost of a smile playing at her lips.

Anja felt her heart swell with a sudden rush of affection and gratitude for this ragtag bunch of misfits and outcasts who had become her family.

Her home. Come hell or high water, she would do anything to keep them safe.

"Look who's finally come out! Glad you're back, Anja," Reiner said with a warm smile as he approached the group, his booming voice cutting through the chatter. He gave her a friendly pat on the shoulder, his large hand nearly engulfing her entire upper arm.

Anja grinned back at him, nodding in appreciation. "Thanks, Reiner. It's good to be back."

Bertholdt trailed behind Reiner like a tall, anxious shadow, his expression a mix of relief and trepidation. He offered Anja a small, shy smile, ducking his head in greeting.

"Alright, enough standing around!" Reiner declared, clapping his hands together to get everyone's attention. "Time to see if Anja's still got what it takes to keep up with the rest of us." He turned to her, a playful grin spreading across his face as he cracked his knuckles. "What do you say, Wolf? Ready to get back in fighting shape?"

Anja grinned, cracking her knuckles with relish. "Hell yeah. I've been dying for some action. You chumps better watch out, because I'm gonna kick all your asses from here to Wall Maria."

A chorus of good-natured jeers and challenges rose up at her words, and before long, the cadets had dispersed to the training field, falling into the familiar rhythms of drills and sparring matches.

As Anja squared off against Reiner, trading playful jabs and testing out her newly healed limbs, she couldn't help but marvel at how far they'd come and the road they still had to traverse before finally being ready.

There would be more challenges ahead, she knew. More pain and loss and hard choices. But in that moment, surrounded by the laughter and camaraderie of her friends, Anja felt invincible. Unbreakable.

The day wore on, the cadets moving from hand-to-hand drills to ODM practice. The sun hung low in the sky, painting the training field in shades of orange and gold as the exhausted recruits began to trickle back towards the barracks for dinner.

Anja lingered, her muscles aching with a satisfying sort of burn as she unstrapped her gear. A month of bedrest had taken its toll, but she was pleased with how quickly her body seemed to be bouncing back, muscle memory taking over where stamina failed.

"Not bad!" Eren called out, jogging over to her with a grin. He began to unfasten his own gear, his forehead shining with sweat. "Didn't think you'd be able to pick up so fast. Were you training back there in the infirmary?"

Anja snorted, rolling her shoulders to ease the tension. "Nope. But I know this is going to hurt like hell tomorrow."

Eren laughed, clapping her on the back. "Ah, I'm sure you'll be able to handle it. Come on, let's go grab a bite."

"Anja."

They both turned at the sound of the familiar monotone. Annie stood a few feet away, her arms crossed over her chest, her expression unreadable.

"Could we have a word?" the blonde asked.

Anja glanced at Eren, a question in her eyes. He just shrugged, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

"Go on ahead," he said, jerking his chin towards Annie. "I'll save you a seat at dinner."

Anja nodded, returning his smile with a grateful one of her own. "Thanks, Eren. I'll catch up with you in a bit."

She watched him go, his form quickly swallowed up by the lengthening shadows. Then, with a deep breath, she turned to face Annie, trying to quell the sudden flutter of nerves in her stomach.

Annie tilted her head towards a quieter corner of the training field, away from prying eyes and ears. Anja followed, her curiosity piqued by the unusual request.

“What's up?" she asked, aiming for casual and falling somewhat short. There was something about the intensity of Annie's gaze, the set of her shoulders, that made Anja feel like this was more than just a simple chat between friends.

Annie uncrossed her arms, shoving her hands into the pockets of her hoodie. She seemed to be struggling with herself, her jaw working as if chewing on words that wouldn't quite come.

"I wanted to apologize," she said at last, her voice flat and expressionless. "For not coming to see you. In the infirmary."

Anja blinked, taken aback by the admission. "Oh. That's... you don't have to apologize, Annie. I know you must have been busy with training and everything."

Annie shook her head, a sharp, negating motion. "No. That's not..." She huffed out a breath, frustration flickering across her usually stoic features. "I should have been there. Should have at least checked in on you. But I... I didn't. And I'm sorry."

“I heard what happened and I should have been there…”

Anja shifted uncomfortably, a sudden tightness gripping her chest. She could only imagine what people were saying about her. The thought of Annie, of all people, seeing her as some kind of monster...

"Annie, I..." she started, then trailed off. What could she say?

But Annie cut her off with a sharp gesture. "I'm not here to judge you," she said, her voice clipped and matter-of-fact. "I just wanted to say... I understand."

Anja blinked, taken aback by the words. "You do?"

Annie shrugged, her gaze sliding away to focus on some point over Anja's shoulder. "I could see it in your face, you’re afraid at how others see you, but…” Annie paused.

“We all have our demons," she said, her voice uncharacteristically soft. "Our darkness. The parts of ourselves we're afraid to face."

She took a deep breath, as if steeling herself for what she was about to say. "What you did out there... it doesn't define you."

Anja swallowed hard, sudden tears stinging at the corners of her eyes. "How can you be so sure?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Annie's eyes flashed to hers, something fierce and unwavering in their icy blue depths. "Because I know you," she said, quiet but intense. "I know the kind of person you are…"

Annie was silent for a long moment, her gaze boring into Anja like a physical weight. "You're not a monster," she said quietly, her voice low and intense, a slight crack in her usual monotone. "You're a survivor. There's a difference."

Anja stared at her, hardly daring to believe the words. Beneath them was a wealth of unspoken pain, a glimpse of some deep, unhealed wound that made Anja's breath catch in her throat.

"I..." she started, her voice thick with unshed tears. "Thank you, Annie. That... that means a lot."

Annie glanced away, clearly discomforted by the emotional turn the conversation had taken. "Yeah, well," she muttered, scuffing the toe of her boot against the ground. "Don't let it go to your head."

But there was a softness to her voice, a hint of warmth that belied her gruff words. In that moment, Anja felt a rush of gratitude and affection for this prickly, guarded girl who had somehow become one of her closest confidants.

Impulsively, she closed the distance between them and pulled Annie into a hug.

Annie stiffened in her arms, her whole body going rigid with surprise and discomfort. For a long, awkward moment, she just stood there, unresponsive, her arms hanging stiffly at her sides.

But then, slowly, incrementally, Anja felt her relax. It wasn't much, just the barest loosening of her tightly coiled muscles, but it was something. A tiny, almost imperceptible yielding.

"I mean it," Anja said, putting as much sincerity into her voice as she could muster. "Thank you, Annie. For... for believing in me."

Annie said nothing, but her hand came up to rest lightly on Anja's back, a tentative, barely-there pressure that spoke volumes in its own way.

After a moment, Annie awkwardly extricated herself from the embrace, taking a step back to reestablish some distance between them.

"Don't mention it," she said, her voice gruff but not unkind. "Just... Don't go getting all sappy on me, Anja. I just wanted to make sure you weren't going to keel over and die on my watch.”

She glanced back up at Anja, there was softness in her gaze.

"I'll do my best," she said, a small, crooked smile tugging at her lips. "Besides, I still have to prove I can beat you in a fair fight. I'm not giving up on that just yet."

Annie snorted, a huff of laughter that was gone as quickly as it came. “You wish. You still have a long way to go before that.” The barest hint of a smirk playing at the corners of her mouth. "Someone's got to keep you humble."

Anja grinned, "Lucky me." she said, only half-joking.

They stood there for a moment longer, the silence between them easy and companionable. Then Annie shifted, tilting her head towards the mess hall.

"We should head in," she said, her voice once again coolly neutral. “I’m sure Braus will leave us with nothing but crumbs if we don’t hurry.”

Anja laughed, falling into step beside her as they began to make their way across the training field. "Somehow, I doubt even Sasha could manage to eat an entire dinner service's worth of food," she said, shaking her head. "But better safe than sorry, I guess."

As they walked, their shoulders brushing with each step, Anja couldn't help but marvel at the strange, tenuous bond that had grown between them. It wasn't the easiest of friendships - Annie was prickly at the best of times, closed-off and distant even on her most outgoing days.

But there was an understanding there, a recognition that went beyond words.

Whatever doubts Anja had now dissipated, she knew she could count on her friends, count on Annie. They were the strength she needed to keep moving forward, to keep pushing through the darkness towards the light.

It was a fragile hope, as delicate as a candle flame in a tempest. But it was there, flickering and tentative and precious beyond measure.

For now, it was enough.