Chapter 13 - Target on Your Back

                                        

                                              



Slice of life AND mindgames!? What is this, Christmas!?   
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Location: Orvud District, Wall Sina
Year: 844, Winter
Time: Early Morning








My boots crunched on the thin layer of frost coating the ground, and as I moved, small flakes of snow began to drift lazily through the air.
Snow.
It wasn't the first time I'd seen it, but it was rare enough to warrant a pause. 
I stopped mid-step, reaching a gloved hand out to catch a flake. It melted almost instantly, leaving only the faintest damp spot on the leather.
"..."
My mind wandered briefly to that time after the rooftop fight, sitting with Ryuuen. 
Snow had piled on my head then, undisturbed, as I let it fall. It had soaked through my hair, leaving it damp for hours—regrettably, not the best idea I had in mind. I was more than certain I would've gotten a cold if I hadn't looked up how to dry snow-covered hair properly.
I pulled my coat tighter, shoving my hands deep into my pockets as the cold bit at my fingertips.
The section of the Walls I currently found myself in was relatively peaceful, but peace often bred complacency. For example, being so far from the exterior in Shiganshina and therefore the Titans gave the Military Police the gall to blatantly engage in corruption and activities that destabilized the realm instead of securing it.
Staying vigilant was paramount, especially in situations like this. 
Anyways...
For the past several days, I've been tailed. 
Subtle movements, shadowy figures on rooftops or in alleyways, were hard to miss when you were looking for them—and I always was.
It didn't take much to deduce their purpose if I were to be humble.
The timing was too coincidental, aligning perfectly with the massive order Eveline's bakery had received. 
It was for some noble's Gala, I presumed from the information that Reiss girl was wondering about, and the government likely had their eyes on anyone involved. The way these shadows moved—quiet, coordinated—screamed professionalism. 
Surveillance was their game, and they were good at it.
But not good enough.
Even now, I could feel their eyes on me. 
Above, perhaps two rooftops over, someone shifted their weight slightly—The faintest crunch of snow on a tile. 
Amateurish.
I let out a slow sigh, my breath fogging in the cold air as I continued walking, pretending not to notice. Acknowledging them would only give away that I was aware of them. 
That would tip the scales, and I preferred keeping them uneven in my favour.
The bakery's backdoor came into view and I opened it quietly.
Inside, Eveline was already hard at work, flour dusting her apron as she kneaded dough. I could see other pastries lining her workstation, already completed. They looked delectable, and if I had no semblance of self-control, I would've dashed in and eaten them already.