That comment about food scarcity isn't an accusation. Reiner knows what Eren's accusations sound like: how Eren's voice swells with fury, even if it never reaches a shout anymore. (Reiner wishes it would.) Still, Reiner knows his responsibility in the matter. Of course he knows. He's the one who barreled through Wall Maria and inadvertently kicked off a famine.
Reiner thinks about that sometimes, though not as much as he once did. The famine was an unexpected consequence, right? It wasn't as though the higher-ups in Marley predicted that's what would happen after Wall Maria fell. Did they? Or did they not care? Did they not consider that their Warriors would also be "refugees" standing in the same food lines, surviving off of the same scraps? Either way, no one could have predicted that Paradis' government would sacrifice twenty percent of its remaining population so the rest could live.
A quarter of a million people, all dead. All because Reiner's actions robbed them of so much of their land.
Maybe the right thing for Reiner to do would be to never indulge in the foods he loves, sticking only to what his body needs to survive. But Reiner has all but given up on untangling right from wrong. Besides, that sort of self-flagellation wouldn't bring anyone back.
("So what if I was an ignorant kid? So what, Eren?")
He turns his mind away from such things, focusing on the flavor of the cookie, the way the chocolate chips melt on his tongue. Focusing on Eren beside him, green eyes not meeting Reiner's as he compliments Eren's baking. Wondering about Eren's childhood: a life without concern about money. Was it like that for everyone in Shiganshina? Or was Eren fortunate, his missing father's work as a doctor bringing in plenty?
Words hang on Reiner's lips, stemming from a sudden desire to tell Eren about his life back home. His real life, not the falsehood he peddled in Paradis. He wants to tell Eren about money being tightly tied to food in Liberio; he wants to explain that it was just him and his mom making ends meet, their blood marking them as unworthy of living with Reiner's father; he wants to tell Eren how thrilled his mother was when Reiner finally came home with a yellow armband.
He swallows those words as Eren's hand grasps his. It's warm. Too warm, just as it should be. Reiner threads their fingers together—easily, naturally—and holds on tight as they step through.
Reiner doesn't know how teleportation works. Is it magic? Technology? A combination of both? It's hard to say. All Reiner knows is that his body is transported from one place to another with nothing in the interim, a little magic drained away.
Where does that magic go? With his hand still tightly holding Eren's, Reiner wonders if their magic is off mingling somewhere, as twined together as their fingers. For some reason, the thought is satisfying.
As they come out the other side, Reiner brings Eren's hand to his lips, kissing the back just as he did in Eren's kitchen. Only this time, the temperature of Eren's skin is just right. He smiles, lashes lowering, lips still pressed to Eren's skin.
"Teleporting never stops being weird," he says, kissing Eren once more before letting their joined hands fall. Only then does Reiner step forward off of the teleport node, the sights and sounds of Blossomcrown's busy streets belatedly registering.
Pink. Pink everywhere. No, not just pink: cherry blossoms cover the streets, whirling in a gentle breeze, spreading color throughout the otherwise grayish district.
HAHA SAME…
Reiner thinks about that sometimes, though not as much as he once did. The famine was an unexpected consequence, right? It wasn't as though the higher-ups in Marley predicted that's what would happen after Wall Maria fell. Did they? Or did they not care? Did they not consider that their Warriors would also be "refugees" standing in the same food lines, surviving off of the same scraps? Either way, no one could have predicted that Paradis' government would sacrifice twenty percent of its remaining population so the rest could live.
A quarter of a million people, all dead. All because Reiner's actions robbed them of so much of their land.
Maybe the right thing for Reiner to do would be to never indulge in the foods he loves, sticking only to what his body needs to survive. But Reiner has all but given up on untangling right from wrong. Besides, that sort of self-flagellation wouldn't bring anyone back.
("So what if I was an ignorant kid? So what, Eren?")
He turns his mind away from such things, focusing on the flavor of the cookie, the way the chocolate chips melt on his tongue. Focusing on Eren beside him, green eyes not meeting Reiner's as he compliments Eren's baking. Wondering about Eren's childhood: a life without concern about money. Was it like that for everyone in Shiganshina? Or was Eren fortunate, his missing father's work as a doctor bringing in plenty?
Words hang on Reiner's lips, stemming from a sudden desire to tell Eren about his life back home. His real life, not the falsehood he peddled in Paradis. He wants to tell Eren about money being tightly tied to food in Liberio; he wants to explain that it was just him and his mom making ends meet, their blood marking them as unworthy of living with Reiner's father; he wants to tell Eren how thrilled his mother was when Reiner finally came home with a yellow armband.
He swallows those words as Eren's hand grasps his. It's warm. Too warm, just as it should be. Reiner threads their fingers together—easily, naturally—and holds on tight as they step through.
Reiner doesn't know how teleportation works. Is it magic? Technology? A combination of both? It's hard to say. All Reiner knows is that his body is transported from one place to another with nothing in the interim, a little magic drained away.
Where does that magic go? With his hand still tightly holding Eren's, Reiner wonders if their magic is off mingling somewhere, as twined together as their fingers. For some reason, the thought is satisfying.
As they come out the other side, Reiner brings Eren's hand to his lips, kissing the back just as he did in Eren's kitchen. Only this time, the temperature of Eren's skin is just right. He smiles, lashes lowering, lips still pressed to Eren's skin.
"Teleporting never stops being weird," he says, kissing Eren once more before letting their joined hands fall. Only then does Reiner step forward off of the teleport node, the sights and sounds of Blossomcrown's busy streets belatedly registering.
Pink. Pink everywhere. No, not just pink: cherry blossoms cover the streets, whirling in a gentle breeze, spreading color throughout the otherwise grayish district.