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Chapter Text

Emilia Schultz

845, Stohess

“Where did you manage to get booze like this?”

“Ah, you know. I threatened the barkeeper on Main Street. Told him if he wanted to ensure the safety of his business, he better keep me supplied with the best liquor he can get his hands on. Otherwise, I’ll make sure every rat in the underground knows his bar is up for pickings.”

Two men sat at a table in the Military Police Barracks within Wall Sina. One had blonde hair cut into a mullet, his face round and bright green eyes, Lukas Wirth. The other had spiky black hair and a thick mustache, Matthias Keller. The two men were fellow officers at the same rank as Emilia, though they acted like bratty new-age recruits at times. Their professionalism was nonexistent.

The pair broke out into boisterous, drunk laughter at the image of the frightened bar owner, finding the story to be quite amusing. Their cheeks were reddened, jackets discarded, and shirts unbuttoned as the early afternoon sun filtered into the room. They played cards and split a bottle of some kind of liquor, the foul stench of cigars and alcohol filling the space.

Emilia sighed deeply from the other side of the room. She scribbled on a piece of paper as she finished her reports, dark brown hair pulled into a tight, low bun at the base of her head, side bangs swept across her forehead evenly. She wore her pressed, wrinkle-free Military Police uniform, the symbol of the Unicorn heavy on her back.

Emilia was to leave for Shiganshina the next day, and it would take her at least a week to travel there.

The distance was one of her least favorite details about working for the Military Police. If she wanted to take time to visit her family, she had to get special approval because the trip was so long… Thankfully, her direct superior, Nile Dok, had given her a task to check in on MP operations within Shiganshina with a small squad. She knew the area well, having grown up there, so if there was anything seemingly out of the ordinary, she would be able to sniff it out easily.

Emilia looked up from her reports, her gaze flicking to the inebriated officers playing cards over stolen booze. Disgust filled her.

Though she was sure what was going on within Wall Sina, a place with an abundance of money and wealthy folk, was not much different than what had gone on within Shiganshina since she was a child. She could only imagine how much worse her home district fared, given how poor it was. Not many MPs had any respect for their work—or respect for the people they were sworn to protect.

Lukas and Matthias threw down their playing cards and burst into another fit of laughter over something Emilia hadn’t been paying attention to. Lukas swung his arm and sent a glass crashing to the floor and shattering into small pieces.

The laughing quieted as Emilia stood and her chair scooted against the floorboards. They seemed to forget she was there till now as they were enthralled with their fun. Her finished report sat neatly in her hands as she looked at both men with distaste.

“Ha, hey, wanna clean that up for us?” Lukas asked as he gave her a cheesy, alcohol induced smile, his green eyes half lidded.

Emilia made a face, her eyes filled with disgust. “The broom is in the closet at the end of the hall. Go get it.”

Matthias, the officer with the mustache, scoffed. “Damn, no need to be such a bitch.”

Emilia ignored him and moved to walk to the door, her boots thumping against the floorboards. Lukas shared a grin with his friend, a mischievous look crossing his face, before he reached out, his movements sluggish from the alcohol.

He grabbed her loose brown pant leg, straying dangerously close to her upper thigh area.

“Hey, get back here—!” He called.

Emilia spun around and snatched Lukas’ wrist before either of the sloshed officers could react. She glared down at him, jaw clenched as she tightened her grip. Both officers paled at the expression she wore, the cool demeanor from moments before contrasting with the overwhelming irritation that took them by surprise.

“Don’t touch me,” She hissed.

The blonde officer stuttered in fear, “H-Hey now–”

Matthias, however, wasn’t taking the disrespect, his face twisting and beet-red from the amount of alcohol he had consumed.

“T-The hell do you think yer’ doing… grabbing a fellow officer like… l-like that…” Matthias slurred.

He stood from the table sloppily. It wobbled, the glasses sliding across the surface and clinking as they knocked together. He slammed his palm on top of the table and pushed off of it to lunge for her with his teeth bared.

“I’ll teach you a lesson!” He gritted out.

Emilia let Lukas’ wrist go and side-stepped. Matthias fell to the ground as he ran for her and missed, tripping over his own feet. He made a loud thump as he hit the ground.

Matthias groaned and slowly pushed himself to sit up. Blood dribbled from his nose. He made a noise of surprise at the sensation of liquid running down his face and wiped at his upper lip with his sleeve.

His eyes went wide at the sight of the red staining his shirt, before his gaze darted to Emilia once again. She stood over him with an amused expression as if she were taunting him.

“Thought you were gonna teach me a lesson?” Emilia hummed, her mouth curling into a smirk.

Matthias’ drunkenness was replaced by pure anger now. He let out a shout of rage. “You bitch!”

Emilia’s amused expression slid off her face at the pure anger in his eyes.

Maybe she had taken this too far. She should have ignored Lukas’ advances and left without saying anything. She got lucky and sidestepped him before, but she wasn’t sure it would happen again.

Fear crossed her features, the reality that she was alone in this room with two drunk, angry men settling in.

She moved the report to her nondominant hand and curled the other into a fist, prepared for the officer to lunge at her.

All she wanted was to finish her report so she could pick up medicine for her mother. Why did these drunken bastards have to be such a pain?

Before Matthias could get to his feet, the door swung open, slamming into the wall behind it and grabbing all the officers' attention.

“What is going on here?” Nile Dok asked in bewilderment, eyeing the bottle of booze on the table and the disheveled appearance of both the blonde and mustached man.

His dark eyes lingered on the blood staining Matthias’ upper lip before darting to Emilia, who stood over them with an innocent expression on her face.

Both the drunken men seemed to sober up at the sight of their division commander. Lukas and Matthias scrambled to their feet and saluted him, their fists curled over their chest and their gazes unfocused.

“Sir!” They cried in unison.

Emilia also saluted Nile, but did not address him as her fellow officers did.

“I won’t ask,” Nile said firmly. “Stop screwing around and get back to what you’re supposed to. Keller, Wirth, don’t you have city rounds soon with your units?” He asked, the disappointment evident in his voice.

“Yes, sir!” They both replied again.

Nile nodded his head over his shoulder. “Get to it then.”

Both men grabbed their jackets, scrambling to get themselves in order before addressing their subordinates. Lukas combed his hair with his fingers frantically, and Matthias struggled to button his shirt.

Nile turned his attention to Emilia. “Officer Schultz, come with me.”

Emilia dropped her salute and nodded. “Sir.”

Emilia walked past Nile and into the hallway, her boots thumping and the report still in her hand. Nile reached for the doorknob and began to pull it closed as he left. Before it shut fully, he regarded Matthias with a dissatisfied expression.

“Oh, and officer Keller?” He said.

Matthias looked at him, his gold eyes frightened. “Yes, sir?”

“Make sure to wipe the blood from your nose before you embarrass yourself further,” Nile said, giving way to the pleased tone in his voice.

Matthias turned beet red, from the alcohol still in his system, and from pure humiliation at his division commander noticing his rough appearance. He took a handkerchief from his pants pocket and began to dab at his nose.

“Yes, thank you, sir. I will make sure to.” He mumbled, face flushed as his gaze moved from Nile to Emilia, who smirked at him from behind the commander.

Her smirking face was the last thing Matthias saw as Nile closed the door.

Emilia walked in stride with Nile as they continued down the dimly lit hall. They were quiet, their boots thumping against the boards as they walked.

She was thankful her commander showed up when he did. She had gotten too ahead of herself, not realizing the position she had placed herself in—alone with two angry, drunk men who could overpower her easily. Emilia could pride herself on her self-defense, but she was no idiot to think that she could overpower both of them if they decided to try.

Her recklessness could have caused her injury and then reassignment. Meaning, she wouldn’t have been able to return home to Shiganshina. Her mother wouldn’t be able to go more than a few weeks longer without a resupply of her medication, and her sister…

Emilia’s heart ached at the thought of her doe-eyed, younger sister.

It had been too long since she last saw Lizzie. A few months, at the least—a few months too long.

Nile stopped at the end of the hallway and turned to face Emilia, the common area empty. A tall window shed light on him as he met her gaze, arms crossed and face pinched. Wooden stairs lay to the side. Dust particles floated in the air as silence continued to settle between them.

He crossed his arms, gaze softening as he looked at the young woman. “You’re a strong soldier, Schultz. You shouldn’t entertain behavior from other officers who are anything but exemplary. We have enough trouble from the MPs who like to stir up nothing but trouble within our regiment.” Nile said, his voice firm but not scolding. “Others might get the idea that you don’t take this job seriously, or that you’re nothing more than a woman who wants to just play rough with the boys. Let them screw around. Don’t get involved.”

Emilia did her best to shove down a grimace, not enjoying the underlying tone that she was performing poorly by entertaining the prodding and pestering of Matthias and Lukas.

They, too, had been graduates from her cadet corps. Though they performed beneath her. Emilia had been the top graduate, Matthias 2nd, and Lukas 3rd. While it had never been spoken aloud, the sneering glances and random jabs, such as her needing to clean up their shattered glass minutes ago, said enough. They didn’t respect her.

“I appreciate your advice, Commander,” Emilia responded.

She really did appreciate it. Nile was a good commander with a level head on his shoulders. Emilia looked up to him. He treated her well and seemed to see potential in her.

“Here’s the report I was working on, sir,” Emilia said, passing the paper to him.

Nile took the papers and skimmed over the first few lines. “This is about the robberies occurring in the eastern residential area?” He asked.

Emilia nodded. “Yes, sir. Turns out it was a couple who found it entertaining to rob their parents' families… apparently a wealthy life within the walls is too much to bear and they needed to stir up trouble.”

Nile snorted. “Figures.”

“But I believe this is my last assignment before I leave for Shiganshina,” Emilia added. “I’ll be leaving with my squad tomorrow to check on the outer districts MPs. I will return in about a month, sir.”

Nile nodded. He folded her report in half and tucked it neatly into his jacket pocket. “I did remember that. You do well out there, Schultz. Your performance as an officer has been superb these last couple of years. A few more and you may make captain.”

Emilia flushed. “Thank you.”

The Nile hummed. “Don’t get a big head about it, but you’re a straight-lined soldier. We need more of those—as you saw from your comrades who do nothing but drink booze and push other civilians around for their own benefit.” He frowned and looked out the window. There was a look of thought on his face, eyebrows scrunching, before he spoke again.

“Why did you decide to join the MPs?” He asked.

Emilia stiffened at the question.

While she had gotten to know her commander over the years, it having been five now since she joined, she had never been asked such an informal and conversational question from her superior before.

The truth was that Emilia joined the MPs only for the money. It was the regiment that paid the most, and had the highest guarantee she would come back. She was no good if she joined the Scouts and only lived long enough to deliver one paycheck, along with her casket.

But truthfully, her heart lay within the Scouts.

As a girl, Emilia would stare at the walls for hours. Wall Maria loomed over her small shadow as if it were teasing her, begging her to step outside and see what was beyond the slabs of stone, keeping her inside like a caged animal.

Were the breezes stronger outside of the walls? Did the air smell different, or did the ground look fresh, as though it had never been stepped on in decades? Emilia dreamed of seeing what was beyond, even if she had to face the fear of being pure prey to titans, monsters that only desired to devour her for play.

She couldn’t push away the dream that maybe… maybe there was something more lying beyond the walls. Her curiosity taunted her.

How far did the Scout regiment get? Would she be able to get further, to see more than any other Scout had before?

These dreams were childish, but Emilia would be lying if she said these thoughts still didn’t cross her mind often.

When she lay down for bed, alone in her room in the barracks, the sounds of the night and the few boisterous drinkers from beneath her window, thoughts of the wall would linger. The curve of the tall stone, the very edge, prevented her from seeing how far the sky reached. No matter the height of the trees she climbed, she still couldn’t see the edge.

She couldn’t shove the nagging feeling. The desire to see what was on the other side.

“I joined to support my family, sir,” Emilia answered honestly.

Nile’s question was raw, and she didn’t think he would penalize her for answering her in an unpolitical way.

“That’s right,” Nile murmured. “You have a sickly mother, right? And a younger sister. About the age of twelve, correct? Will she be enlisting soon, too?” He asked.

Emilia frowned. “I don’t think so, sir. She isn’t… the type.”

That was true enough. Emilia loved her sister, but she knew Lizzie was gentle. Soft. She was not one to put herself in the face of danger. Not for herself, and certainly not for others. It wasn’t as though Emilia thought her sister was pathetic or that she had no value, but there was not a brave or adventurous bone in her sister's body. The military would crush her if she joined.

“Well, enjoy visiting your family in Shiganshina. I wanted to check in before you left with your squad and ensure you didn’t have any current issues. I’ll see you when you return, Schultz.” Nile said, before turning and walking towards the stairs. His boots thumped down the wooden steps as he descended, leaving Emilia in the hallway alone.

Emilia turned to look out the window at the streets of Stohess.

The homes were made carefully. Appeared clean and fancy, the wealth evident even as she peered out the window. A few MPs chatted in the barracks courtyard, while others loaded supply carts, leading them out onto the cobblestone roads.

It was touching that Nile considered her to be a hardworking, straight MP. A contrast to the others among her ranks, and ironically, those she had graduated with in the same cadet corps.

Emilia wished that were completely true.

Emilia left the barracks, her heart heavy as she slipped into civilian clothes and headed for the shadowed alleys of Stohess. She stood in an empty alleyway, no longer in her Military Police uniform, but instead wearing a green button-up and brown khaki pants. Her hair was still tucked at the base of her skull in a tight bun, blue eyes serious as she looked at the small, brass tin in her hand containing inhalers and a small baggie of pills.

“And this is the four-month supply?” Emilia asked, her voice hushed.

“Yeah, unless they’re puffing on it for fun, which I have no clue who would—it’ll last them that long.”

Henrieta, a blonde dealer from the underground, stood in front of Emilia wearing grey, somber clothes and a black cloak. She thumbed through the money that had already been passed her way by Emilia with an approving grin.

“You MPs get all the perks in the world, huh, but not this?” Henrieta hummed in reference to the medication, her tone snide and rude. “You would think you’d get treated better for all the ass wiping you do for the nobles and royal family, huh?”

Emilia’s eyes narrowed as a flash of irritation ran through her. “Don’t get smart with me. One bad move and I’ll report you for what you’re doing. And no one will believe a dealer from the underground if you try to rat me out in return.” She added.

“And if you do that, where would you get the medication from then?” Henrieta asked innocently, her thin, blonde eyebrows raising at the further annoyance that flashed across Emilia’s face at her prodding.

“You’re not my only source,” Emilia lied.

Emilia’s chest tightened at the disbelieving expression on the other woman's face, but she didn’t allow her expression to falter. The threat was empty. She had no desire to blow up Henrieta’s illegal operation.

Exploiting the lower class with access to different medications and other goods usually only available to the most wealthy was not something Emilia enjoyed. In fact, she hated it. She hated that she was forced to purchase illegal products and turn a blind eye to Henrieta’s dealings just to keep her mother alive.

But what other choice did she have? Her parents assumed she was able to source the medication because of her position with the Military Police… but that was all a farce. There was no way she would allow her parents, and especially Lizzie, to know the truth.

It would crush Lizzie to know her older sister was no better than any of the other scummy MPs. Emilia wanted to feel like she was better for not partaking in the selling of government property, or exploiting civilians, or even boozing on the job, but she was just the same as the rest of them.

“Whatever you say, sweetie,” Henrieta sighed, waving her hand as she turned her back to Emilia. She pulled the hood of her cloak over her head, concealing her blonde hair. “See ya’ next time you need a restock. If you need anything earlier, you know where to find me.“

She paused.

“Remember, this thing goes both ways, you know.” She added, before rounding the alleyway and leaving Emilia alone, the sounds of the busy Stohess streets filling the silence.

It was true, and part of what made her feel so dirty. Henrieta gave Emilia a good deal on medication, and lots of it, for her to turn a blind eye.

Emilia sighed and ran a hand down the side of her face, trying to ignore the oncoming migraine and the heaviness in her chest.

What made up for it all was the fact that she would be able to see her family again soon.

Emilia wouldn’t lie about it. She did enjoy the feeling of being the knight in shining armor—swooping in, delivering medication for her mother, and providing whatever extra money she could. Not all of it was selfish. If Emilia could provide for her family and ease the stress from her parents' shoulders, she would. But there was nothing she loved more than feeling like the hero for Lizzie.

Nothing would be able to replicate the feeling of her younger sister looking up at her with large, deep blue eyes, her cheeks reddened and mouth agape with awe, as Emilia told an overdramatic story about a chase between herself and a thief in the market. An event that really only took twenty minutes or so, but with some flashy hand movements and dramatics, it made Lizzie look at her like she hung the moon.

Emilia’s heart would break if Lizzie knew the truth.

Chapter Text

Elizabeth Schultz

845, Shiganshina

Lizzie knew that her older sister, Emilia, was strong.

There was something about her that Lizzie knew she would never be able to replicate, from the glint in her older sister's blue eyes to the way she walked as though every step was leading her closer to her goal with purpose. She was always strong, assured, and seemed fearless in the face of whatever came across her path.

It was a trait Lizzie admired. Courageous was not a word most would use to describe the youngest of the Schultz family, and she knew that.

Lizzie gasped as an open hand flew into her face, sending her stumbling and the bag of groceries to her feet in a heap, food tumbling out among the dirt.

She clutched her cheek as her blue eyes welled with tears, strands of dark brown hair falling into her face and out of her two braids. Her cheek stood out as a bright red. Shock that she had been struck was evident on her features, but she didn’t make a move to fight back or shout in protest.

“Seriously, why don’t you just give up whatever money you've got? You usually hand it over, why’s today any different?” Annika huffed, glaring at Lizzie with crossed arms as her friend, Liesel, stood behind her.

Lizzie swallowed hard, trying to push past the stinging in her cheek and the way her face seemed to heat up in embarrassment from being cornered once again by the same girls. It was the same thing every time—Annika taunting her, and Liesel taking whatever valuables she had.

Annika and Liesel had tormented her since the beginning of school. They considered her an easy target and went out of their way to squeeze whatever money or random scraps they could out of her, as she was usually by herself. The timing was always convenient, stopping her when she ran errands or on her way home from school.

Annika was tall and pretty, with long black hair and large grey eyes. Liesel was much shorter than her, with curly brown hair struggling to stay in its clip at the base of her neck. They were both nice-looking girls, but the way they preyed on Lizzie every chance they got said otherwise.

To avoid conflict, Lizzie would hand over the few coins in her pockets or a piece of fruit, but today was different, as her family was low on money. She knew they couldn’t spare anything extra as it would be too noticeable to her parents, as she wasn't sure when her father would be paid, or when the extra funds from Emilia would arrive.

Lizzie had a small family: herself, her older sister, her mother, and her father.

Her father, Hugo, was a skilled laborer employed by the military to maintain and craft ODM gear. He didn’t make much, and usually wasn’t home as he worked long hours. Hugo was the only source of income in the home until her sister joined the Military Police, and the stress seemed to ease within their family when she earned her place among the ranks.

They seemed to have more with Emilia’s cushy job, but even still, they were among the lower middle class. Never going hungry, but no flashy clothes or expensive items. Enough to buy a dessert or a toy here and there, but that was about it. Meaning, they didn’t have extra to spare.

“Sorry, I… I don’t have anything to give you today,” mumbled Lizzie, avoiding eye contact with the girls as they stared down at her in disgust. “P-Please, just leave me alone,” she mumbled.

Annika’s lip curled. “Tch, you’re as pathetic as ever, you know that?”

Liesel bent down and started rifling through the groceries. She unwrapped a small brown cloth, her face lighting up at the sight of a small apple cake. “Hey, I think this will be good for now, yeah?” She asked, looking up at Annika for her approval.

Lizzie’s eyes welled with tears at the sight of the cake, her heart dropping.

Expensive baked treats from shops where that cake was purchased were something her family could rarely afford. It was only for when her sister came home.

Annika shrugged. “Sure, whatever.” She cast a disapproving glance toward the withering brunette. “Have something better for us next time, ‘kay?”

The two girls giggled as they walked away, picking at pieces of the dessert. They left Lizzie alone as they turned the corner, the silence of the empty alleyway, the sun beating down on her overhead, the shadow of the edge of wall Maria hanging over her as she stared down at the discarded groceries, a few pears and a loaf of bread barely encased in cheesecloth lying in the dirt.

Lizzie didn’t know why she couldn’t bring herself to say something to those girls. They were so mean, picking on her, taking money, and whatever they thought was valuable when they came across her.

Why did they consider her to be such an easy target? And why was it that every time they asked for something, Lizzie would hand it over without a true protest? She didn’t want to give up her family's hard-earned money—money that her father spent hours slaving over, his hands cramping up and eyes glazing over with exhaustion, or her sister, who had signed her life away to the military and was hardly ever able to visit home. But all she could muster was a few pathetic pleas in the face of them. Nothing more.

She was sure Emilia would have fought harder than that.

Lizzie was always too embarrassed to mention the bullies to Emilia. Admitting that she was allowing herself to be tormented by girls her age, even if everyone knew it already, was too much for her pride. It wasn’t as though Lizzie could ask her sister for advice anyway. Emilia would surely tell her to fight back. Maybe throw a few punches or do something to scare them off.

But that wasn’t something Lizzie was capable of. When faced with Annika and Liesel, all she could do was freeze. There wasn’t a bone in her body that willed her to fight—only plead.

Though she was sure that with the stinging of her cheek, she would be sporting a mark for her sister to comment on when she came home. That was a conversation she wasn’t looking forward to. Probably one consisting of frustrated remarks, questioning why she wouldn’t fight back, or why she allowed those girls to walk all over her.

She didn’t know why she allowed it either.

Lizzie sniffed as a few stray tears streamed down her cheeks. She wiped at her face with the back of her sleeve as she tried to ignore the pit in her chest. She began to gather the stray groceries back into the bag before continuing the walk home in silence, her cheek stinging and weary.

Lizzie lived towards the outside of Shiganshina, though not in the outermost homes. They had once lived there, but with her sister's additional income, they were able to move further within the district and upgrade to a slightly larger home. They had lived there for only a year or so now.

“Mom, did you eat breakfast this morning?” Lizzie asked in a soft voice as she walked through the door to their small, but quaint home with the bag full of roughed-up groceries in her arms. She kicked off her shoes and pushed them neatly next to her mother's discarded pair with her foot.

Lizzie’s mother, Roslyn, had long, loose red hair and freckles splattered across her cheeks. She sat at their wooden dining table, the kitchen window letting light into their home.

While Roslyn appeared to have naturally fairer skin, she was much paler than what would have been considered healthy. Her poor health showed as well with the dark purple circles underneath her eyes and the way her fingers shook as she threaded the sewing needle through the item of clothing in her hand.

“I did eat, though it was a small meal. I didn’t have much of an appetite,” confessed Roslyn with a sheepish smile as she watched her daughter put away the food from her errands, eyeing the way she turned her cheek away to hide the mark she had earned from Annika.

The smile slid off Roslyn’s face, replaced by a look of sadness.

It wasn’t the first time Lizzie had hidden her face like that.

“Your sister’s coming home soon, Lizzie. Her letter said she’s got a mission here—maybe a week with us. Isn’t that wonderful?” Roslyn said, trying to smile at her daughter as she pushed down the ill feelings at the thought of her daughter's bullies.

Lizzie couldn’t help the swell of excitement in her chest. She returned her smile, the bully’s also forgotten for a moment. “I can’t wait to see her. You think she has any cool stories to talk about since she’s been gone?” She asked.

Roslyn chuckled at her eagerness, glad that her little distraction seemed to work. “I don’t know. But I’m sure she’ll have something to entertain you with, my dear.”

Lizzie flushed and bent her head, unable to bite the smile that had grown into a large grin at the thought of her older sister.

Lizzie had dark brown hair, the same shade as her father's, along with his eyes that were a deep blue. She seemed to be the spitting image of her mother, if it weren’t for her hair and eye color. The soft angle of her jaw and her eye shape seemed to replicate Roslyn’s almost perfectly.

She walked over to sit beside her mother and picked up a discarded skirt that Roslyn intended to work on next. “Can you pass me a needle?” She asked.

Roslyn passed Lizzie the sewing needle and thread with shaky hands. She turned her head away and coughed suddenly, the sound wet and crunchy, before pulling out a small, compact, brass inhaler, the bottom angled at a ninety degree. She took off a piece at the bottom and breathed in its contents, easing her lungs.

Lizzie frowned at the sound of her mother's coughing, but didn’t acknowledge it, and got to work. The two sat in a silence that was comfortable.

Most days passed like this. Her sister, Emilia, hadn’t been a regular presence in the home since she turned twelve and enlisted in the military.

Emilia was twenty and older than Lizzie by eight years, and as soon as Emilia could crawl, determination and a thirst for adventure thundered through her veins. She excelled in school, played rough, and as soon as she became of age, joined the cadets. When she turned fifteen, she, with her high scores and impressive performance, chose to join the Military Police.

Emilia was bright and useful to their family.

Something Lizzie wished she could be, too.

Now that she had turned twelve, the thought of joining the military lingered in her mind often. She had seen how helpful Emilia's earning of a position with the MPs was to her family; the money it brought in, along with the medicine she could source for their mother that typically would only come from the wealthiest of places, like those within Wall Sina, was invaluable.

Right now, Lizzie was only a burden to her family. What use did she serve, especially with her father working often, hardly home, and her mother so sick?

Lizzie wanted to be as useful as her sister. Emilia was strong—things that would make Lizzie’s eyes swell with tears would only instill her older sister with a sense of unbreakable determination. Why couldn’t she be the same? Where did she pull that strength from?

She couldn’t help but be envious of the strength her sister possessed.

That night, once the sun had set, Roslyn stood by the stove, stirring their dinner. The smell of meat and potatoes filled their quiet home. Lizzie set out the bowls for their food just as the door opened and Hugo walked in, discarding his work boots by the door and a bag full of his tools.

“Welcome home,” greeted Roslyn warmly as she looked over her shoulder. Her hand shook a bit as she stirred, propping herself up against the counter with her other hand to remain stable.

Hugo returned her smile, though the worry could be seen within his blue eyes, barely disguised by the warmth with which he looked at his wife. “Thank you. Dinner smells nice.”

Hugo walked past the table and ruffled Lizzie’s brown hair affectionately. She smiled and ducked her head at the unspoken praise as she watched her father head over to Roslyn and hug her from behind briefly, pressing a kiss to her cheek. After greeting both of them, he went into the shared bedroom between himself and Roslyn to clean up.

Soon after that, the three sat at the table, the fire in the corner, and the few lit candles on the table lighting up their home as they ate quietly.

They didn’t speak really, the scraping of their bowls filling the silence. Roslyn's hands shook as she brought each bite to her mouth, fingers frail and thin. Her frail appearance was quite the contrast to Hugo’s, who was tall and large, his hands calloused and firm from maintenance on ODM gear.

While his build was firm, the exhaustion on his face was clear from the dark bags and fine lines etched into his face. The long hours were difficult, but it was needed to keep their family afloat, even with the help from their eldest daughter's salary.

Lizzie eyed the weariness on her father's face and suddenly found the courage to speak up.

“I… I think I want to join the cadets.” She said quietly, eyes on her bowl, as she was too afraid to see what her parents truly thought from their expressions. The immediate silence seemed to be telling enough, and she was afraid to look.

“Why?” Roslyn asked suddenly, her question breaking the silence.

Lizzie looked up to see the upset, slightly sad expression on her mother's pale features. “Why do you want to do that?” She asked again breathily.

She glanced over to her father, who looked at her with a perplexed expression, as he waited for her to answer, brows furrowed and lips pursed. He sat straight, spoon in his hand and wrists resting on the table.

Lizzie’s heart pounded in her chest. She knew she had both of their attention now, and she was beginning to lose confidence at the unhappy expression her mother wore. She wasn’t sure yet how her father felt.

“I know Emilia's enlistment helped the family… and I want to help too,” She said, the tremble in her voice giving way to the confidence of her statement.

Her cheeks became inflamed, the slight bruise from Annika slapping her that afternoon catching her father's eye. His eyes sharpened at the purple of her cheek, a sight familiar to him.

A beat of silence passed. Roslyn’s mouth opened and closed, as though she were fighting for something to say, glancing at her husband out of the corner of her eye for his reaction.

Finally, Hugo spoke.

“I don’t think that's a good idea,” he said firmly. He returned to his meal, scooping another bite of their stew.

Lizzie became flustered, her face turning a deeper shade of red. Her heart pounded in her chest, her mouth dry as she absorbed the dismissive response her father had given.

It was so easy for him to brush her off, as if her suggestion was merely a comment on the weather. Why would he not want her help? If Lizzie could contribute to the family, why would he not take that? Did it not make him proud?

Lizzie sputtered. “But-but, Emilia helps the family, I want to help too–”

“Well, you’re not Emilia,” Hugo said firmly, still not looking up from his meal. He paused, his spoon hovering over the bowl. Hugo’s jaw tightened as memories of sending his oldest daughter, squishy-cheeked and wide-eyed, off to brutal military training flashed in his mind. “Besides, if a couple of bullies who attend your school are enough to beat you down, you won’t last in military training. I want you to be safe and healthy.” He added.

Roslyn gave her husband a look of disapproval but didn’t say anything. Lizzie shrank down in her seat, embarrassed.

She raised a hand to touch her stinging cheek.

He had known she had another run-in with Annika and Liesel. It was enough to send a flash of humiliation through her, the underlying message that Emilia was stronger and more valuable than her, present enough.

“I don’t want to hear anything about this again,” Hugo added. “Emilia does her part, and I do mine. Do yours by not making yourself a target for children your age.”

Lizzie flinched as though his words physically struck her.

“Hugo, that’s enough,” Roslyn said, her voice just as surprisingly firm.

Hugo sighed and closed his eyes, rubbing the side of his face. He knew that he was being too harsh, too. He paused, as though he were mulling over his words, before meeting his daughter's blue gaze, the same shade of his own looking back at him.

“I don’t mean to be harsh. I just need you to know that joining the military is serious business. I don’t think you can handle it, and I don’t want you to get in over your head.” He said gruffly.

Lizzie’s chest tightened.

But Emilia could handle it.

Roslyn looked between the two of them for a moment before she turned to Lizzie with a forced smile. “Your father doesn’t mean to be harsh, you know that. You’re strong in your own way–” her sentence was cut off by violent coughs, her small frame trembling as she hacked into her hand.

Hugo shot up from the table, “Where's the inhaler?”

Lizzie paled as she looked at her mother in concern. “Are you okay?”

Roslyn took a shaky breath and pointed to the small, floral box on top of the kitchen counter in response to her husband. Hugo wasted no time running over and grabbing it. She continued to cough, her breaths sounding like wheezes as she gasped for air. After shaking it, he brought the inhaler over to Roslyn and uncapped the piece at the bottom. She held it to her lips and took in a deep breath, her wheezing evening out as she inhaled whatever was inside. Her lungs calmed.

Hugo and Lizzie watched in anticipation as Roslyn regained her breath.

At this moment, she seemed to be more fragile than before, her skin paler than usual, almost transparent, and her cheeks sunken. Roslyn’s green eyes were glazed over as she focused, gasping from the lack of oxygen.

Once she seemed to regain her strength, she passed the inhaler back to Hugo, who examined it closely. He frowned as he weighed it in his palm.

“There's not much of this left. It’s a good thing Emilia will be coming home soon—this is the last one we have, so she’ll be bringing more of the medicine with her.” He said, setting the inhaler back into the floral box and covering it with the lid.

Hugo sighed and sat back down in his chair, his shoulders relaxing as he looked at his wife in concern. Roslyn rested her elbow against the table and covered her eyes with her palm as she took shallow breaths. Her shoulders trembled, her frame seeming smaller as she tried to regain her composure, both Lizzie and her father watching with concern.

Lizzie swallowed hard and looked down at her empty bowl.

“I’m sorry for getting you all worked up, Mom.” She said quietly as she moved to stand. “I’ll clear the table.”

Roslyn didn’t seem to have the strength to respond, but instead reached over to place her hand on top of Lizzie’s without lifting her head. With the strength she had at the moment, she gave her daughter's hand an affirmative squeeze. While she didn’t say anything, the action did give her a sense of ease, the guilt for causing a slight commotion disappearing.

Lizzie gave her mother's hand a reaffirming squeeze in return before gathering the dishes and bringing them over to the kitchen sink. She was quiet as she rinsed them off and began to clean up from dinner.

“I’m going to get ready for bed,” Roslyn said quietly as she stood from her seat.

“Alright,” Hugo acknowledged as he also stood, grabbing the rest of the dishes left on the table. He gave his wife a squeeze on her arm before walking over to the sink beside Lizzie, Roslyn disappearing to their shared bedroom.

Lizzie took the dishes from her father and began to rinse them too, not speaking to him.

Hugo looked at his daughter with a hardened expression. There was little emotion on his face, but in his eyes, the same shade of deep blue eyes he shared with her, was the desire to say something to her to break the sense of self-loathing he knew he indirectly instilled in his daughter from the comparison he made between her and Emilia.

Instead, he looked at the groceries Lizzie brought home with her that afternoon.

Amongst the collection were the usual items they purchased—bread, cheese, and a few fruits like pears or apples. The item that was missing, however, was the apple cake they usually purchased for Emilia as a welcome-home present. It was rare, as Emilia didn’t have the opportunity to visit home often since joining the Military Police, and they often couldn’t afford such a delicacy, but Hugo knew Lizzie would remember to get the pastry. It was likely no mistake.

“Did you forget the apple cake?” Hugo asked, glancing over at her. He decided to outright ask her instead of speculating.

Lizzie paused her dish washing, shame overcoming her. Images of Annika and Liesel walking away with the rare pastry, specifically for her older sister, flashed in her mind. The sounds of them laughing—laughing at her, made her insides twist with shame.

She knew it was a rare occasion her family had access to sweets like that, and it had been tradition since her sister left home. Her father wouldn’t believe her if she lied, but she couldn’t bring herself to tell him the truth.

Lizzie ducked her head and avoided her father's gaze. “Sorry, I…I must have forgotten…”

Hugo’s hardened expression didn’t waver.

His eyes drifted to the bruise on her cheek once again, lingering on the way it seemed to be in the shape of fingers, something he couldn’t see from across the table during dinner, but was as plain as day now.

“We will get another one tomorrow before she comes home. Don’t worry about it.” Hugo said, patting the top of her head.

Lizzie swallowed the guilt filling her and nodded firmly. She expected to feel relief at her father’s lack of scolding, or that he hadn’t pressed further about the lack of dessert, but she only felt more shame.

“Goodnight,” Hugo said, before walking into the bedroom after Roslyn.

“Goodnight.” Whispered Lizzie in response, the grip on the plate in her hand tightening.

Lizzie wondered if her sister ever felt shame such as this.

Chapter Text

Emilia Schultz

845, Wall Maria

Rifle slung over her shoulder, Emilia rode her honey colored mare beside the supply cart. She was dressed in her Military Police uniform, with her brown hair tucked at the base of her head in a tight bun, side bangs loose across her forehead, and wispy hairs framing her deep blue eyes.

Wall Maria was visible in the distance as they had already traveled through the thick forest and crossed the tall, rolling green hills behind them. The sun was just peaking over the hills as it rose, colors of pink and purple streaking the sky. Birds cawed as they flew overhead. The wagon thumped as the wheels drove over divots in the rough dirt.

Two members of her squad drove the wagon as they neared Shiganshina. The woman driving was Anya Miller, a green-eyed brunette who usually kept her hair pulled into a tight ponytail. She sat with the reins loose in her hands, whistling to herself as they rode.

The man in the passenger seat was Vincent Leroy, a brown eyed blonde with short, spikey hair and a pair of thick-rimmed glasses sitting on his nose. He slouched in his seat as he thumbed through some kind of book, sitting in a lazy, contorted position. The last member was a man sitting in the back, Felix Wagner. He had shaggy black hair cut into a mullet, a pouty expression on his face as he rested his chin in his palm, his other hand throwing stray pebbles from the bed off the back of the wagon.

Riding horseback on the other side of the wagon from her was her captain, Leopald Muller. He yawned, tears pricking at the corner of his eyes, salt and pepper hair clipped short. He had a bored expression on his face as he rode, eyes unfocused. Not a thought about the mission ran through his head, but instead, what sort of drinking establishments lay within Shiganshina.

Anya, Felix, and Vincent were more or less fresh-faced recruits. They had graduated from the cadet corps about a year prior and had just recently been assigned to her captain's squad, now able to pursue missions.

Emilia thought the recruits were good enough. They screwed around every once in a while, but usually managed to complete what they needed. Their good behavior was probably in part to Emilia’s strong hand, as she wouldn’t tolerate the shit other officers would—but she liked them. As an officer of the squad, she was the secondary leader of the fresh-faced recruits, but she still reported to Leopold.

Her captain, Leopald, was likable. He didn’t hover, assigned tasks, and mostly kept to himself when it came to his squad members. Emilia didn’t mind it too much. He wasn’t pushy, but she knew that was partly because he preferred to spend his time drinking and playing cards whenever he could. Activities he couldn’t pursue with his squad members.

“Hey, Emilia,” called Felix from the back of the wagon after throwing another pebble.

“Yeah?” Emilia asked as she readjusted her hold on the reins, her horse trotting alongside the wagon.

“You’re from Shiganshina, aren’t you?” He asked.

The other recruits seemed to perk up at the mention of this detail.

Emilia had been pretty tight-lipped about her personal life. As a superior, she didn’t go out of her way to share random details about where she grew up or what she liked to do for fun, so any information was interesting to them in the midst of boring MP stuff.

Vincent and Anya shared a look. Vincent put a thumb in his book to mark his place and turned around completely to face her, wanting to be included in the conversation.

“Why didn’t you request to be stationed there?” Vincent asked. “We have a base in every district, don’t we?”

Leopald snorted. “You know how much money those guys make? Might as well be shoveling cow shit. They sit on their asses and get paid about as much for doing so.”

Emilia made a displeased face. She didn’t like the way the chump recruits were prodding at her personal life. She couldn’t get a word in before the kids continued prattling on.

“So… for the money?” Supplied Felix with a raised brow.

“I did it for the same reason,” chided Anya, a smug expression on her face. “My mom and dad wouldn’t give me money for anything. That’s why I joined the MPs. I wouldn’t blame you for that, Officer Schultz. A girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do.”

Vincent made a face, green eyes narrowing behind his thick frames. “You’re spoiled. Aren’t your parents pretty wealthy? They own that restaurant in Stohess, don’t they?”

Anya set her jaw on being found out. “Yeah, so what? I didn’t wanna work in some restaurant, wiping tables, asking my parents to pay my wages. No way, not my style.” She grumbled.

“I wouldn’t mind working in some fancy restaurant,” breathed Felix with a sigh. “I’m sure you’d get a lot of good food. Leftovers from the customers… dibs on what didn’t get eaten…” He said dreamily, drool practically dribbling from his mouth.

“Anyway, why did you join, Officer Schultz?” Asked Vincent, turning the conversation back to her.

Emilia shrugged, trying to brush off their question so they would stop prodding. “My family needed help financially. I’m the oldest, and my mom can’t work.” She said.

The air became thick and a bit awkward. They didn’t seem to expect her to supply a response such as that, their whining seeming rather pathetic in comparison.

“Wooooow, noble.” Flex breathed, almost like he was mocking her, trying to make light of the conversation again.

Emilia became flustered. She shot her subordinate a glare. “No, not really. Now stop asking me personal questions. Have some respect, alright?” She added quickly, trying to ignore the looks her squad members were giving her.

While bringing up her family did embarrass her, Emilia was excited to see them. She couldn’t help the way she perked up in her saddle at the thought of her mother. The smell of their home, her father's affectionate words and the bright eyes of her younger sister. It had been too long since she’d seen Lizzie. She was sure she had grown a bit since the last visit.

A silence settled over the group as they neared Wall Maria, the tall, stone structure visible in the distance. The boom of a cannon could be heard now, most likely set off by those monitoring the wall within the Garrison. It was early, but they were already knocking down titans who were scratching too long.

“Hey, did you guys hear the cannon?” Vincent asked. “The Garrison uses those to take out titans without getting too close. Cool, right?” He asked, eyes wide and practically twinkling as he looked at his teammates for confirmation.

Anya made a face. “No, not really. I don’t wanna think about those creepy things. Never seen one, and I don’t even wanna imagine it.”

Felix grinned and made grabbing motions at her, mischievousness evident in his expression. “Why, you afraid of being lunch? Grr… I’m a scary titan, and I’ve come to eat you!” He cried out as he grabbed onto her arm.

Anya screamed and jerked the wagon. The three cried out at the sudden movement, grabbing onto the sides to stabilize themselves.

“Hey!” Emilia cried, looking at the three in bewilderment for acting like a bunch of crazed children.

The kids were only sixteen years old, so she wasn’t surprised at their roughhousing, but they needed the wagon to arrive in Shiganshina in one piece.

Anya refocused the wagon and turned bright red. She shot a glare over her shoulder toward Felix. “D-Don’t do that!” She snapped before facing forward again.

Felix giggled to himself and shared a look with Vincent, who also looked amused, but did a better job of hiding it.

Emilia shook her head in mock disappointment, though she couldn’t help the light chuckle she let out. “Seriously, what is with you?” She asked lightly.

Felix shrugged with a cheesy grin, as though to say he can’t be helped.

Leopald yawned again and waved his hand. “Alright, enough horsing around. We’re almost to Shiganshina. We’ll unload the supply wagon and have the rest of today off. We’ve had a long day of travel.”

The rest of the trip was quiet, and Emilia was glad for it.

They arrived soon enough, pulling through the large gate of Wall Maria that led them into Shiganshina. The few Garrison guards stationed there yawned sleepily but managed a polite wave as they passed through the checkpoint. Emilia hoped that she would recognize at least one face, but she didn’t.

The district seemed rather empty, as most were still sleeping at the early hour they’d arrived at. Turning down a few streets, the wagon bumping over the rough dirt, they passed through the market, citizens setting up their stalls for the day before the morning rush.

The area filled Emilia’s heart with warmth and comfort. Her family's home wasn’t too far from where they were now. Memories of walking through the market with Lizzie at her side, usually holding onto her pinkie or the bottom of her skirt, filled her mind.

Lizzie would look around with her wide, deep blue eyes, brown hair pulled into two braids, usually done by their mother if she had the strength. If Roslyn couldn’t, Emilia would do Lizzie’s hair.

Lizzie would always beg to hold the basket full of groceries that was much too heavy for her young age when they came to the market. After a bit of back and forth, Emilia would relent and let her try to carry it, only for the younger girl to practically buckle under the weight. It always earned a good laugh from Emilia and the other shopkeepers. Lizzie would turn bright red and pout at the teasing.

Emilia couldn’t help the ghost of a smile that lingered on her face as she helped unload the wagon once they reached the Shiganshina Military Police building. The motivation of seeing her family members kept her going, even as tired as she was, the sounds of the new MP recruits wrestling with one another in the background. She didn’t even flinch as one of them dropped a few crates of supplies, damaging the goods in the process.

Once the captain dismissed them, Emilia bid the other members of her squad goodbye and took off. She wanted to get the most out of her time with her family while she was there, as she knew as soon as the sun rose tomorrow morning, she would be back at the Shiganshina MP building for work.

Emilia dropped the composed demeanor she’d been sporting throughout her trip there. Rifle still slung over her shoulder, along with her bag full of belongings, she jogged down the rough, dirt streets, her boots crunching against the ground.

She could hardly contain her excitement as she rounded another corner and went down a steep hill. A grin spread across her lips when she spotted the familiar structure of her home at the end of the road.

Pink and purple flowers bloomed outside. Gardening was one of her mother's favorite pastimes, and she would tend to flowers when she had the strength. A few extra pieces of laundry also hung from a clothesline out front. A skirt of her sister's and a shirt belonging to her father weighed down the line, probably just having been washed.

Emilia walked up the steps, her boots thumping against the stairs. She pushed open the door and stepped inside, the familiar smells of her home hitting her all at once. It smelt like home.

The peppermint her mother grew in the backyard that she would usually heat on the stove to make the house smell fresh. Her father's oils and grease whenever he had to bring home broken equipment to work on deep into the night. Burning wood and smoke from the fireplace.

She dropped her bag onto the ground beside the front door. The rifle followed soon after, along with her heavy, leather boots.

Emilia walked over to their small seating area with a worn couch and a second-hand chair from her grandparents, who were no longer alive. A red rug, also from her grandparents, was spread in front of the mantel. The fireplace was lit low, with smoke drifting from the pile of fresh logs from the chilled air, most likely having been lit not too long ago. It made her think that someone was likely awake already.

On the floor were a few of Lizzie’s dolls. She was older now and didn’t play with them as often as she used to, Emilia knew she still loved them. She would get embarrassed if anyone mentioned that she still slept with them too, though everyone in the family knew she did.

Emilia picked one up and looked at it with a soft smile as she ran her fingers through the knitted, black hair on the doll. It had blue button eyes and a red dress—cute, but still rather worn.

“Emilia?” Came a deep, gruff voice.

Emilia looked up and met the blue gaze of her father.

Hugo stood in the doorway that led to the bedrooms. He wore his work uniform, a grey button-up, waffle shirt, and thick brown pants. His hair was long, cut to his chin, and his face a bit scruffy. It seemed there was more grey in his hair since the last time she saw him.

Unlike Lizzie, who had a closer resemblance to their mother, Emilia’s face was almost identical to her father's. She had his strong jawline and sharp, deep blue eyes. Like her father, she seemed to always have a resting sad expression on her face, even if she didn’t intend to. If it weren’t for her longer eyelashes and feminine figure, it would be easy to mistake Emilia for a miniature version of her father.

Hugo crossed the room and pulled his daughter into a tight hug. “Welcome home.”

Emilia hugged him back. She took a deep breath and let herself relax, breathing in his smell.

In his arms, it felt like she was a little girl again, the warmth comforting.

Hugo pulled away and placed a hand on her shoulder. “Your mother is awake. She’ll be coming out to have her morning tea soon. I wish I could stay longer, but I have work. I’ll see if I can come home early tonight. How long are you here?” He asked.

Emilia frowned. “Only a few days.”

Hugo also frowned. “I see. Then I will be home earlier than usual.”

“Thanks, Dad,” Emilia said with a small smile, her father's efforts not going unnoticed.

Hugo patted her arm before walking over to the front door. He began to lace up his heavy work boots. “Of course. I’ll make time for you when you come home to visit. It’s the least I can do as your father and for all you do for us.” He said.

Emilia felt a pang of guilt.

She forced a smile to her lips. “I still appreciate it. I’m just glad to be home.”

“Of course. I’ll see you tonight,” Hugo said as he left with his work bag full of tools in hand. The door closed softly behind him, careful not to wake Lizzie, who was still sleeping at the early hour.

Emilia looked down at the doll in her hand again.

The thought of her sister in her mind, Emilia walked to the back of the house to the room she shared with her sister when she came to visit.

They shared a room as kids, but as they could only afford to move to a better home when Emilia earned a job with the MPs, Emilia hadn’t lived at home, so Lizzie had a room of her own. She was sure she enjoyed it.

Emilia cracked the door to her sister's room and peered inside.

Morning light barely leaked in through the drawn curtains. Clothes littered the floor along with a few books. Lizzie lay in bed with her arm thrown over her eyes as she snored. Her brown hair was wild and stuck out in random directions. She slept peacefully, completely oblivious to her sister's presence.

Emilia walked inside and sat down at the edge of the bed. Lizzie was a heavy sleeper, so she didn’t even flinch at the mattress sinking.

Emilia smiled at her sister's peaceful form.

She hated working with the MPs. If she could follow her heart, she would have joined the Scouts and been able to explore what lay beyond the walls for herself. She wouldn’t have to be taunted by the thought of the looming stone anymore, or that there were no trees tall enough for her to climb so she could peer over. The paper pushing, derogatory, meaningless work of the MPs made her sick.

But seeing her sister with plenty of clothes not littered with holes, a few toys, and books… it made the frustrations worth it.

Emilia placed the doll next to her sister and pulled the covers up to her chin. Lizzie stirred, but only rolled over to tuck the doll into her side. She mumbled something incoherent under her breath as drool dribbled out the corner of her mouth.

Emilia laughed softly and stroked a piece of hair from Lizzie’s face. But after moving the hair, her eyes settled on the outline of a bruise on her sister's cheek.

The purple and yellow impressions were in the shape of fingers, and it looked like it may have been in the process of healing, as though it were a few days old.

A cold sensation settled over her at the sight.

Emila was not ignorant of the bullying her sister faced. Lizzie didn’t come to her for advice, most likely because she refused to be a nuisance, or she didn’t want to appear whiny. Even when Emilia lived at home, Lizzie had been an easy target for bullying. Lizzie didn’t have a mean bone in her body. These bullies knew it, too, and it was why they decided to prey on her.

She wished Lizzie would feel more comfortable coming to her for advice.

Emilia made a mental note to confront her sister about the bullying later, before getting up and leaving the room, shutting the door softly behind her.

When she left the bedroom area and reentered the kitchen, she wasn’t surprised to see her mother in there too.

Roslyn had her back turned as she brewed tea, the smells mixing with the peppermint filling the kitchen again as she started up the stove. She hummed a quiet tune to herself, long, shiny red hair reflecting as the sunlight filtered in through the window.

“Hey, Mom,” Emilia greeted as she walked over to her.

Roslyn turned around, eyes wide with a bright expression on her face.

“I thought I heard you speaking to your father! Then when I saw your things by the door…” Roslyn suddenly coughed, the sound crunchy and wet. She grimaced and rubbed her throat, “Sorry.”

Emilia shook her head and walked over to her bag. “Don’t apologize, Mom. Have you been taking the pills I brought and using the inhaler?” She asked.

Roslyn began coughing again before she could respond. Emilia moved with intent, not wasting a second as she pulled out the inhaler and other medication from the tin Henrieta gave her before leaving Stohess. She walked over to her mother and shook the inhaler before popping off the lid. Emilia passed it to Roslyn, and her mother puffed on it. Her coughs eased, but her fingers shook, the lack of air startling to her.

“Here, I’ll finish the tea,” Emilia offered as she turned to the stove.

Roslyn shook her head. She took a shaky breath before speaking. “No. I am fully c-capable of brewing a damn kettle of tea. Sit down at the table, and I’ll finish up. You want a cup too, right?” She asked as she turned to the stove after slipping the inhaler into her pocket.

Emilia begrudgingly sat down at the table, placing the resupply of pills into the floral box on the dining table. “Yes, please.” She said.

Roslyn began busying herself with finishing tea, boiling water on the stove, and pulling out the tea blend beneath the cabinet.

Emilia took a deep breath and allowed herself to relax at the table. She shrugged off her Military Police jacket and draped it over the chair next to her, followed by rolling up the sleeves of her white button-up to her elbows. Reaching to the tight bun binding her hair, she pulled at the clip, keeping it contained, and let her thick, dark brown hair fall around her shoulders, the strands landing around her mid-back. She ran her fingers through her hair and combed out the minor tangles, already feeling the relief flood through her scalp.

It felt good to be home.

“Lizzie is very excited to see you,” Roslyn said, grabbing the kettle and pouring the hot water into the cups, the tea leaves already at the bottom.

“I’m sure she is,” Emilia said with a small smile. “I’m glad to see her, too. You, Dad… I miss you all a lot.”

Roslyn looked over her shoulder with a knowing look. “Have you spoken to Caz yet?” She asked.

Emilia shook her head. “No, I haven’t seen Caz. He was probably either working or still at home when I arrived.”

Roslyn brought the cups over to the table, the dishes clinking as it hit the wooden surface. She gave her daughter a mischievous look. “He checks up on us often. He misses you just as much as we do, I’m sure.” She hummed.

“I’ll be sure to see him tomorrow,” Emilia said in response, ignoring whatever her mother was hinting at.

Casimir Petrov, affectionately referred to as Caz, was a close childhood friend of Emilia’s. They joined the cadet corps when they both turned 15, as they were the same age. However, he chose to join the Garrison rather than the Military Police, so he could be stationed in Shiganshina near his family. They were still close and made time for each other when Emilia came to visit, writing to each other regularly.

For whatever reason, her mother always hinted that Caz had romantic feelings for Emilia, but she was suspicious of that. They had always been close friends—it didn’t mean there was anything romantic going on.

“Well, anyway, when Lizzie wakes up, she’ll probably hound you for some interesting stories,” Roslyn said, changing the subject as she could see her daughter didn’t take too kindly to the jokes about her childhood friend. “It was one of the first things she mentioned when I said you were coming home.”

Emilia frowned as she stared at the divots in the table, the lines in the wood seeming to form grinning faces that laughed and taunted her for her poor deeds. They laughed in knowing she was a poor excuse of a role model.

She rested her forehead in her palm as her chest tightened.

“Honey, is everything alright?” Roslyn asked gently as she draped an arm over Emilia’s shoulder. The mood change was noticeable enough. “If something's the matter, I’d hope you’d tell me.” She sadded.

How could Emilia tell her mother? How could she confess that the pressure of taking care of the family was almost too much to bear? She enjoyed the feeling of being a knight in shining armor, swooping in to save the day. She enjoyed feeling useful and important. But the guilt was suffocating and made her stomach twist, because even if she enjoyed the idea, it had no weight to it.

Emilia’s family thought she was an angel when she signed up for the military. She found a good, stable income to help keep them afloat and a way to get proper medication to keep her mother alive. Her acts were completely selfless.

But it was all a farce.

Emilia was a horrible, selfish person. She permitted the exploitation of other desperate, poor people in similar situations to her own family, just so she could source her mother's medication. She turned her back on those who needed her help just to save her own family, because if they were to die or buckle under the pressure, she wouldn’t be able to stomach it. She wouldn’t be able to bear it.

Along with the harassment from other officers… grabbing at her, smugly suggesting that she get a broom to clean up their messes after they spent the day shrugging off their duties, drinking and smoking… It made her sick. All of it made her sick.

She wasn’t the role model her family, or Lizzie thought she was.

The thought of the edge of the wall flashed in her mind. The way the sky curved just enough at the edge to fool you into thinking that maybe the world ended just over the top. Birds passing overhead as if they were teasing her, showing her that they could fly somewhere she couldn’t.

At the reassuring squeeze on her shoulder from her mother, Emilia returned to the present. She placed her opposite hand on top of Roslyn's. Emilia bowed her head and squeezed back.

“It’s nothing. I just… I just miss being home.” She lied, her heart heavy.

Roslyn gave her daughter a sad smile, though something in her—call it a motherly instinct—knew that her daughter wasn’t telling the truth.

Roslyn rested her chin on Emilia’s shoulder with her arms wrapped around her. She leaned her head against her daughter's temple and closed her eyes, letting out a deep sigh.

“We miss you, too.” Roslyn breathed. “I’m glad to see your face, honey. It’s been too long.”

She pulled away and moved to sit across from her daughter at the dining room table. Hands wrapping around the steaming, tin cup of unsweetened black tea, she looked at her daughter with a scrutinizing expression, though nothing about it was harsh or accusatory.

“But I don’t think you’re telling me the truth,” Her mother chided.

Emilia frowned and averted her gaze. She wasn’t sure she could look her mother in the eyes.

Did she know that Emilia had been sourcing her medication in illegal ways? She didn’t know how Roslyn would be privy to that kind of information, but she wouldn’t put it past her quick-witted mom. While her body had its struggles, her mind was still as sharp as ever.

“I joined the military to help support the family,” began Emilia, her voice quiet. She looked down at the lines in her palms as a way of not meeting her mother's eyes. “But it’s… It’s difficult. I know nothing is easy, but I… I hate being an MP.” She confessed.

The words made Emilia feel small as they slipped out of her mouth.

How could Emilia confess to her mother that her job, how she kept them afloat and her mother at least somewhat healthy, was too ‘difficult’ for her? It made her feel like a grovelling, pathetic child when she was a grown adult who couldn’t afford to turn away from things purely because they were difficult or she hated them.

Roslyn reached over and placed her cold, frail hands in Emilia’s palm, intertwining their fingers.

Emilia slowly lifted her head and met her mother's eyes. Roslyn had a gentle smile on her face. If she hadn’t known better, she would think that her mother's eyes were glossy with tears.

“Your father and I appreciate everything you’ve done for us,” Roslyn said softly. “We’ve had hard times. With my sudden illness… and your father's long hours… it pushed you to grow up a lot sooner than we should have allowed to happen. We will always appreciate the help, but I can’t live comfortably knowing you’re doing something that makes you… makes you so grim.” She finished.

Emilia frowned as a lump formed in her throat. “We can’t afford for me to do what I really want.”

Understanding crossed her mother's features. She tilted her head to the side, silky, red strands swaying as she gave her daughter a knowing look. “You always were a curious child. Wanted to understand and see everything there was to be seen. Even if you climb the tallest trees, there's still not much to be seen behind Wall Maria. Though I think you discovered that as a little girl. Didn’t need me to tell you that.”

Roslyn pulled her hand away and wrapped her fingers around her steaming cup of tea again. “Your father and I will manage. The choice of what you choose to do is yours alone to make. But just know that you’re not responsible for your father and me. We’re adults. Just as you are.” She said.

Roslyn leaned forward and opened the floral box she had placed the medication that Emilia brought home. She pulled out the small package of pills and dumped one into her hand before taking a drink of her tea and sliding the pill between her lips. She swallowed and placed the lid back on the box.

The reassurance from her mother was appreciated, but Emilia wasn’t sure she could choose her own dreams over the well-being of the family. The inherent selfishness of the act wasn’t something she could endure in good faith.

But it was a nice thought.