COTE x AOT: Ashes in The Sky

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Location: Wall Rose (?)
Year: 844
Time: Night

My boss led the way, his gait casual as he moved toward the counter where the bartender was wiping glasses with a practiced hand. 

At the sight of us, the bartender—a man with a slim build, bald and with a neatly trimmed beard—nodded in greeting, a hint of a smirk tugging at his mouth.

"Well, well, if it isn't Remaro," he said, giving my boss a hearty pat on the shoulder. "It's been a while. Thought you'd retired to some far-off corner to avoid trouble."

Remaro laughed, waving a hand dismissively. "Who, me? I'll die before I can give up on the thrill of it all. Speaking of which..." He glanced in my direction. "Brought someone along who could use your expertise. Faust, this here's Kiyotaka."

Faust appeared to be an alias. Its translation is akin to something like "lucky."

The bartender, Faust, turned his attention to me, his eyes narrowing as he gave me a slow, appraising look. I met his gaze evenly, maintaining a neutral expression, as I always did.

"Kiyotaka, huh?" Faust finally spoke.

His voice was low and gravelly.

"You've got... an odd look about you. Those eyes of yours—like a dead fish staring back at me." He tilted his head, clearly intrigued by the lack of reaction in my expression. "What's the kid need fake documents for, Remaro? Thought you kept your guys clean."

"Favour," Remaro replied smoothly, leaning against the counter. "Kiyotaka here has a knack for getting things done and managed to pull one over on the Military Police. I owe him."

Faust's gaze lingered on me a moment longer, and his eyes held a slight glint of interest. 

"You're full of surprises, aren't you, kid?"

I remained silent, simply observing him in return. There was a hint of tension in the air, a subtle test in the way he studied me, but I didn't mind. Faust seemed to register my calm as a permanent trait, and he chuckled, shaking his head.

I need to learn some expressions...

Turning back to Remaro, he said, "Guess I can whip something up. Papers shouldn't take long, but if he's so capable..." Faust gave me another glance, this time more thoughtful. "I have a job for him. Wall Sina. Stohess District."

Remaro chuckled, folding his arms.

"You know, Faust, Kiyotaka here can practically do anything you ask him to."

The bartender raised an eyebrow, giving a skeptical, yet interested, glance my way. "Is that so?" He leaned forward, both elbows on the counter, his stare unwavering. "You think you can handle a job in Stohess, kid? Not exactly a place where you can disappear easily."

I nodded once, the barest tilt of my head. "If it's something within my abilities."

Faust grunted approvingly, his smirk widening.

"Got nerve, at least. That's good. Listen, there's a guy in Stohess District who needs a reminder of his limits, let's say. A dealer who's been skimming off the top, keeping goods and lying about inventory." He glanced between Remaro and me, gauging our reactions. "I want him dealt with—but quietly. Get my meaning?"

I gave a small nod, registering his meaning clearly. "Understood."

Faust leaned back, crossing his arms. "I don't care how you do it, but make sure the message is clear. And if you can swipe any records he keeps hidden, even better. As for the reward, let's say I'll throw in a few more documents, should you ever find yourself in need again." He looked to Remaro. "You vouched for him, but I need to know—can he handle something like this?"

Remaro didn't hesitate. "Kiyotaka here won't make a mess, I promise you that. I've only been working with him for a little bit of time and yet I've yet to see him slip up, not once."

Faust seemed satisfied.

"All right, kid," he said, extending a hand. "Consider this your test. Do the job right, and I'll have more than documents ready for you when you return."

I accepted the handshake, his grip firm but not overbearing. Faust nodded approvingly as he released my hand, then motioned over his shoulder toward a door behind the bar.

"Papers will be ready by the time you're back," he said. "Get some rest if you need it before heading out. Stohess isn't far, but it's no easy place to slip in and out of."

"Noted."

Remaro clapped me on the shoulder, a smile tugging at his mouth. "Look at that, you're getting more popular by the day." He smirked at Faust. "Told you he's something."

Faust chuckled as he resumed wiping glasses, his attention now shifting back to Remaro. "Just don't go stirring too much trouble, Remaro. I'd like to keep my place here for another few years."

Remaro laughed, raising his hands in mock surrender. "Hey, I'm not the one taking on the job, am I? Kiyotaka's got it under control."

With that, we exchanged nods and turned to leave, heading back out into the quiet of the night.

If this person, Faust, is an information dealer... he must have some sort of way of gaining said information.

Perhaps he has informants within the Walls, within Wall Sina...

That can lead me to conclude that the institutions of the Walls are rotten to their core...

But I'll simply need to test that if I get the time. Letting my curiosity get the better of me would be a bad play, no matter how much I wanted to explore.

For now, I needed to finish up one last job.

...

...

...

The door creaked as I stepped into the dimly lit building, and immediately, the sharp smell of smoke and stale liquor hit me. Five men lounged around the room, their rough features half-hidden in shadow. Eyes that had been lazily watching their cigarettes now focused on me, one man lowering his bottle with a frown.

"Who the hell are you?" one of them demanded, pushing himself up. He was broad, muscular, and had a perpetual scowl etched across his face—a man used to getting answers and probably one who didn't enjoy interruptions.

I met his gaze.

"Outside," I said. "I need you all to step outside with me."

The men exchanged looks, some amused, others irritated, but none of them took me seriously. The man who'd spoken gave a rough laugh, taking a step toward me.

"Listen, kid, we don't take orders from some—"

One of his companions interrupted, voice dripping with sarcasm, "Oh, let's hear him out, yeah? Might be the high-and-mighty type, after all."

His comment earned a few low chuckles, and another of the men—smaller but wiry, his eyes gleaming with a sadistic edge—grinned. "You got something to say to us, or you just here to play tough?"

I remained silent, giving only a calm nod toward the door. My calmness seemed to unnerve them more than words could. After a tense pause, they shrugged and decided to humour me, swaying their way out with smirks.

Morons...

Everywhere I go...

‎

I slipped a plain mask from my pocket and placed it over my face, blending into the dimness. The men spread out in a loose circle around me, a sense of amusement and condescension in their stances.

"So, you brought us out here," the broad man sneered, crossing his arms. "What now, huh?"

One of them, impatient, spat on the ground.

"..."

"Got something to say, kid, or do you just like wasting our time?"

I glanced around, gauging the positions of each man. My mind mapped the layout of the narrow alley, the brick walls enclosing us in silence. The quiet weighed heavily as I stood still, hands at my sides, waiting.

I'm getting a weird sense of Deja vu...

The smaller man grinned, cracking his knuckles.

"Ain't much of a talker, is he? Maybe we should teach him a lesson—"

Woosh~

He barely had time to finish his sentence before I closed the distance between us.

My hand shot out, grabbing his arm and twisting it up behind him, then planting a precise elbow strike to his back.

THUNK!

He gasped in pain, folding forward before crumpling to the ground.

The others froze for a split second, processing what just happened. Then, the broad man charged, fist swinging, his face twisted in irritation.

No formal martial arts training, just the simple use of a might makes right mentality.

I sidestepped, letting his momentum carry him past me, then followed up with a quick knee to his abdomen, making him double over.

The wiry man lunged at me from behind, his hands reaching for my throat.

Woosh~

Anticipating his move, I ducked low, sweeping his legs out from under him and sending him sprawling on the ground. He let out a pained grunt, and as he struggled to get back up, I delivered a quick jab to his shoulder, dislocating it.

As much as I'd prefer not to get my hands dirty, the situation calls for a quick and easy solution. Those documents, proving my worth, everything, are much more important to me now than ever.

One by one, the rest of the men fell, each crumpling in defeat to the alley's dusty ground.

Finally, all that remained was Eugene Sauber. He'd been watching, his expression shifting from confident disdain to wide-eyed horror.

Now, his back was against the wall, hands splayed in surrender.

I approached him slowly, each step echoing in the silence.

He tried to shrink back, his face pale as I reached out and grabbed his collar, pinning him against the rough wall.

That took less than a minute and I doubt these burly men would talk about me, a teenager, beating the absolute snot out of them to anyone.

"Do you understand?" My voice was calm, almost casual.

Eugene's mouth opened and closed, but no words came out. His eyes darted over the bodies of his men, then back to me. "I— I don't... I don't even know what you want!" he stammered. "You just... just came in and took out my guys!"

I didn't respond, tightening my grip slightly, bringing his face closer.

I repeated, slower this time, "Do you understand?"

His breaths were shallow and erratic, panic clear in his eyes as he tried to find the right answer. I could see the calculations in his mind as he weighed his options, desperate for a way out.

Before he could respond, though, one of his men groaned, struggling back to consciousness on the ground, seeing the situation, he staggered to his feet, rage twisting his face as he let out a yell and charged at me.

"BAASSSTARRRD!"

I'm getting that weird sense of Deja Vu. How long has it been since the rooftop?

Without a word, I stepped to the side, using Eugene's own body as a shield.

CRASH!

As the charging man collided with Eugene, they both stumbled, crashing to the ground in a tangle of limbs. Eugene groaned, clutching his side as he tried to push himself upright, but I was already there, grabbing him by the collar once more.

"No more skimming," I said quietly, the words sinking into him like weights on a pillow. "Faust doesn't like losing profits. You get one chance to make this right."

Eugene's eyes flickered with recognition, realization was dawning on him.

He swallowed hard, his voice shaking. "Okay... okay! I swear... I'll stop. Just... just let me go." His voice was barely a whisper, his face a mixture of shame and fear. "Please... show mercy."

For a moment, I held his gaze, assessing his sincerity. Then, with a slight sigh, I released him, watching as he collapsed to his knees.

"Make sure you keep that promise," I said, turning away. "Oh, I hope you don't mind me using some matches."

...

...

...

I the bar entered without a word, scanning the room briefly before heading to the counter, where Faust was wiping down glasses. He glanced up as I approached, a surprised expression breaking his composure.

"You're back already?" He set down the glass, crossing his arms as he gave me a scrutinizing look. "You took care of that job in a day?"

His eyes swept over me, looking for any signs of injury, his brow furrowing as he noted the absence of bruises or cuts. It seemed he had expected the job to go differently. I could almost see him piecing together the implications.

"The job's done," I said simply.

He blinked, letting out a low whistle as a grin crept across his face. "Damn," he muttered under his breath. "I'd have bet money you'd at least come back with a scratch or two. You're full of surprises, aren't you?"

"Nothing surprising about finishing something mundane," I replied.

He chuckled, shaking his head.

"Oh, it's not just the task. I didn't peg you for someone who'd be efficient, thorough, and fast about it. Look, a deal's a deal. I'll handle the papers, and if you want, I'll even throw in a back온라인카지노게임, family tree, the whole works." He shot me an amused look. "Anything you want. Pick your poison."

I paused, considering his offer.

"A specific back온라인카지노게임," I said. "Would you be able to create it based on the details I have in mind?"

Faust's smirk widened as he straightened, his confidence evident.

"You're looking at the most well-connected man within the Walls, kid. You name it, I can make it happen. A few days and I'll have it all set up for you, right down to the family ties. As long as you give me enough time, I can make it happen."

For a moment, I allowed myself a small nod.

"I'll leave the specifics with you then," I said, knowing he would get the gist from my request. "It's important to blend in, particularly here."

As Faust got back to his work, I took in the other patrons.

Most were men and women who'd worked hard labour all day, their rough hands and tired faces blending seamlessly into the surroundings. Over the past few weeks, I've noted that the variety of people within the Walls was limited—faces were similar, characteristics indistinct, and individuality scarce.

Foreign-looking individuals, at least in the way I would define them, were practically nonexistent.

People like me stood out too easily. The only way I could possibly blend in was to come up with...

Huh... I lost my train of thought for a second there.

Hey.

I wonder what job I should get?

‎

|| 𝙏𝙚𝙭𝙩 𝙎𝙚𝙥𝙖𝙧𝙖𝙩𝙤𝙧 ||

Location: Wall Sina, Orvud District
Year: 844
Time: Midday to Afternoon

Frieda Reiss felt a rare, easy smile settle across her face.

Her youngest sister, Florian, trailed along beside her, practically bouncing with excitement. At nine years old, Florian was wide-eyed and full of energy, and it warmed Frieda's heart to see her sister so lively. Moments like these—where she could just be a big sister, rather than the person carrying the Reiss family's power—felt precious.

She would only get so many of these moments, after all.

As they strolled through the market stalls, Frieda glanced over at Florian.

"So," she started, giving her sister a playful nudge, "have you spotted anything you think Dirk might like? His birthday's just around the corner." She already knew what Florian would say, but she wanted to hear it from her.

Florian's face lit up, her blue eyes twinkling with excitement.

"Hm? I don't know... Maybe something to do with the military, probably!" She nodded sagely. "He's always talking about the Scouts. I mean, he's got all those little toy soldiers and that wooden sword he pretends is a real one!"

She held her hand up, mimicking her older brother's stance whenever he was "on patrol" in the yard.

Frieda laughed. "Dirk really does love to act like he's a soldier, doesn't he? You're right... maybe we should find him something he can really enjoy. A model sword maybe?"

However, it would be safer to have said model sword be as dull as possible.

Unlike her, Dirk couldn't regenerate in seconds.

Florian clapped her hands together, nodding eagerly. "Yes, yes! Maybe even a little uniform, like the real soldiers wear. Oh, he'd love that! He could pretend he's in the Military Police—"

She paused, frowning a little, then looked up at Frieda, "But... that might be expensive."

Gently, Frieda ruffled her sister's hair, laughing as Florian wrinkled her nose and tried to bat her hand away.

"Don't worry about that; I'll figure something out. When did you even learn about money?"

"Lessons! From Mr. Ulitzka!"

"L-Lessons...?" The monarch couldn't help but feel a bit exasperated. "R-right... What are those tutors teaching you?"

Their conversation carried on as they wandered from one shop window to another, pausing to admire colourful trinkets, polished stones, and wooden toys. Frieda felt herself relaxing, taking in the pleasant atmosphere of Orvud.

It was a pleasant change from the formality of the Reiss Estate. Her gaze occasionally softened, especially when Florian's laughter echoed in the air. It reminded her of Historia, her half-sister—someone she wasn't able to spend carefree days like this with.

It's been 2 weeks since she last visited Historia... she must've been so lonely...

For a moment, she was lost in thought.

"Sis?" Florian's voice broke through, and Frieda blinked down at her, realizing she'd paused. "Are you okay?" Florian looked up with a slightly concerned expression.

"Oh, of course. Just thinking," Frieda replied, her voice gentle. "Now, let's keep going. I think I know just the place where we can find something Dirk will like. And maybe..." she raised an eyebrow, grinning, "we'll get a treat for you as well?"

Florian's face lit up, and she immediately cheered up. "Yes! I'm hungry, actually. Can we get something?"

Frieda chuckled again. It wasn't like she didn't like her family, it was just that... she'd prefer if all of them could live under the same roof like one big happy family— Not separated by dozens of kilometres and obligations.

"All right, Flo. Let's get some food. I know a great place—my friend showed it to me a while back. They have pastries and all sorts of things." Taking Florian's hand, she started leading her down the streets.

The sisters made their way through the busy marketplace, weaving between the steady stream of townsfolk.

Just as they turned a corner, Frieda's eyes caught on something familiar.

The faint outline of a figure moving a tray of freshly baked goods toward a cart parked along the road.

Red blazer, greenish pants... There was no mistaking him.

"Kiyotaka?" 

She whispered to herself, barely audible. 

The sight of him working so intently brought a smile to her face, but it was tempered with surprise. She hadn't expected to run into him, especially not here in Orvud. 

Well, it wasn't too surprising given his clothing but... She wouldn't have expected him to work a job that requires such labour given their first encounter.

'What a coincidence.'

"Big sis, are you okay?" Florian's curious eyes followed her gaze, tracing it to the young man in the distinguishing attire. She tugged gently at her sister's sleeve. "Who's that? Is he a friend?"

Frieda turned to her younger sister, unable to hide her grin.

"Well, you could maybe say that. It depends but... that doesn't matter," with a slight nod, she gestured in his direction. "Come on, Florian. Let's go say hello."

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Words: 3285

Author Notes:

I'm a big fan of slow burns and at least somewhat realistic relationships. Unlike Queasy, who loves destroying the psyches of beloved characters (in literal and metaphorical ways)—I prefer to keep them sane and make decisions for themselves, thank you very much.