"Tomorrow… the trial begins."
In the dim children's cell, two figures huddled in the corner, their knees pulled close to their chests.
"The demons are going to judge us…" Bertholdt whispered, trembling. "We're never getting out of here. Maybe… maybe we should transform now and escape!" His shaking hand moved toward his mouth.
But before he could bite down, Annie grabbed his wrist. "Calm down," she hissed. "The terrain here is terrible for us. Transforming now would be suicide. If you must transform—wait until the trial."
Bertholdt froze, lowering his hand. His voice was small and tense. "You're right. But this place is strange. They've arrested us, yet no one's interrogated us. Reiner's unconscious, and I haven't heard from the captain… It's making me uneasy."
"Me too," Annie murmured.
She glanced at the three other children sharing the cell—Eren, Mikasa, and Armin. To others, they might all seem like ordinary kids, but Annie knew better. They weren't the same. They couldn't be.
No matter how many toys the Survey Corps gave them, Annie couldn't play. Couldn't relax. Couldn't forget where she came from.
And now, the commander's words echoed in her head. A trial. Judgment.
They wouldn't forgive them. They couldn't.
After all, she and her comrades were from Marley. They were the ones who shattered the Walls.
Tomorrow, they would die on this island.
The thought made Annie's voice tremble slightly as she turned to Bertholdt. "Can I ask you something?"
Bertholdt blinked, biting nervously at his nails. "What is it?"
"That day… why did you cry and beg me to live?"
Snap! A fingernail broke between his teeth. His face flushed a furious red, nearly steaming.
Annie's blue eyes stayed on him, clear and unblinking. "My father was the only one who ever cared about me. No one else has ever cried for me… until you. So why did you?"
Bertholdt's words stumbled out. "Because—because we're comrades! Comrades want each other to survive! When things go bad, someone has to live, no matter what!"
Annie tilted her head slightly. "Reiner's our comrade too. Why didn't you cry for him?"
"Because… because he stole my chicken leg that night!" Bertholdt burst out, face flaming.
"That's unforgivable! He deserves it!"
Annie blinked once, then nodded thoughtfully. "I see."
She actually smiled faintly. "So there are two people in the world who care about me."
Bertholdt's entire body tensed. Inside, he screamed: She bought it! She doesn't know I like her! Thank goodness—if she found out, she'd stomp me flat like one of those bugs she tortures…
Then he looked across the cell—and froze.
There, reading peacefully, was his mortal nemesis.
Armin Arlert.
The "yellow mushroom-head" who had unknowingly stolen Annie's heart.
Bertholdt's thoughts exploded like a volcano. No! Even if I die tomorrow, I can't let her think of anyone else! I won't go to my grave without telling her!
He jumped to his feet, face crimson, eyes squeezed shut.
"It's not like that!" he blurted. "That day—I begged you to live because… because…" His voice shook. "Because I like you! I—I love you, Annie Leonhart!"
Annie's eyes widened.
Bertholdt powered through, shouting with the desperation of a man about to be executed. "Even though you have a weird temper, you're cold and quiet, you torture bugs, and you beat me and Reiner all the time—I still like you! From the first moment I saw you, I liked you! I love you the most! Please don't hit me!"
When he finished, he instinctively ducked, arms covering his head like a soldier bracing for impact.
The room went dead silent.
Downstairs.
Zeke, currently being scrubbed down in a wooden tub, paused mid-sentence. "Did Bertholdt just… confess?"
A nearby attendant nodded. "Seems like it. Surprising how clear it is, huh?"
Zeke froze. "Wait. You mean the soundproofing here is that bad?"
"It's fine, unless someone shouts," the worker said casually.
Zeke went pale. "Then… everything I said earlier? All the screaming? The insults?!"
"Yeah," the worker replied. "The entire dungeon probably heard it."
Zeke's eyes widened in horror. "AHHH!!!"
He slumped in the tub, soul evaporating. "I'm ruined…"
Upstairs.
Ever since Bertholdt's outburst, no one had spoken. The silence stretched awkwardly.
Finally, Eren turned to Armin, who was still quietly reading. "Hey, you okay with that? Looks like someone's stealing your girl."
Armin blinked, confused. "Huh? What are you talking about, Eren?"
Those wide, innocent eyes were as pure as ever.
Eren coughed, pretending to play it cool. "Nothing. Forget it. You wouldn't understand yet."
After all, they were only ten. What did ten-year-olds know about love?
Still, Eren couldn't help thinking, Guess Bertholdt's finally brave enough to confess. Poor Armin—no chance now.
Then, a small, warm hand slipped into his.
"?"
He turned—and saw Mikasa.
"N-no, it's okay," she stammered, cheeks pink. "I just wanted to… hold your hand."
Eren smiled softly and squeezed back. "It's fine. You can hold it whenever you want."
"Yeah." Mikasa looked away quickly, pretending calm, though her heart pounded. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched Annie and Bertholdt—because, frankly, their drama was entertaining.
Meanwhile, Bertholdt remained crouched, waiting for Annie's punch.
But none came.
Cautiously, he peeked up.
Annie's expression had changed. Her usual cold indifference had softened into something gentle, almost radiant.
"Me too," she said quietly.
Bertholdt blinked, hope blooming—only for Annie to continue with a serene smile:
"I never thought anyone would care about me. But now I know. You, Bertholdt… you're just like my father. You love me and care for me like family. From now on, besides my dad, you're my most important family."
Bertholdt's mind went blank.
His soul cracked like glass.
"…Family," he whispered hollowly.
Somewhere deep inside, the Colossal Titan wept.