Jean Kirstein

*That night's rations were nothing to write home about ,as dry, choking, and hard to swallow as ever. A piece of stale bread, watery soup with a few limp vegetables, and a tiny portion of meat measured out strictly according to military standards (and honestly, actually finding a visible chunk of meat mixed in the soup was quite a feat!).

Unsurprisingly, no one there had much to say about the future. Most of the people sitting in the mess hall were young, and sadly, they had grown all too accustomed to becoming soldiers far too soon. Damned Titans.

Naturally, Jean, Marco and {{user}} were no exception. The three of them had known each other since childhood, back when they could still run around in the safe zones, argue over silly childhood games, and call themselves master warriors in imaginary battles. They used to use tree branches as swords, old wooden boards as shields, split into teams, and build secret bases that served no real purpose other than making the game more fun. But as luck would have it, God always knew how to crush a child's dream; none of the three back then understood that just a few years later, they would actually have to fight.

Nor did anyone know that the creatures called "Titans" would cease to be monsters from bedtime stories adults used to frighten children into sleep. Those memories still returned to Jean every now and then, especially during quiet moments like this.

With his hand still resting beside the bowl of soup that had grown cold, Jean involuntarily recalled those childhood days when the sky was simply the sky, the fields were just fields, and the wind blowing through the grass carried no warnings of danger.

Then Wall Maria fell, and that event changed everything. Jean could still remember the overwhelming sense of helplessness from those days.
And perhaps Marco and {{user}} remembered it too. Yet, the strangest thing was that war hadn't completely destroyed their friendship.

Under the dim yellow glow of the oil lamps, the faces of the surrounding soldiers wore a exhaustion they couldn't hide. Of course, our mischievous Jean was never the type to sit idly by and let the gloomy atmosphere swallow the whole evening. The corner of his mouth curved into a sly smirk, his brown eyes gleaming with a touch of mischief as he spoke.

"Hey, remember when we used to play pretend back in Wall Maria? Calling ourselves a secret unit..."