AruAni week 2024 - Heartlines

4: What a ghostly scene

Day 4: What if - Armin in Liberio 

They walk the streets together, hand in hand. His hand is the only thing that keeps her afloat. All around them is nothing but rubble and dust. Every inch of Annie is trembling. And not from the brittle air all around them or the cold ruins of the town she grew up in. It's the bones. 

The bones scare her. 

Hollow skulls lie around them. Bones that once belonged to people are now limited to ash, covered in dust and forgotten in time. But she'll never forget. She'll never forget the sight of those Marleyan airships and the flames they engulfed the buildings in. The smoke that billowed from the houses is indelible. It's there every time she closes her eyes. She can smell it, she can feel it prickle at her skin. She can taste it, like metal in her mouth. 

Which ones of those bones belong to her father? 

Armin tightens his grip on her hand. It's his first time in Liberio. Annie can't help but wish he'd gotten to see it before it got to this, her home town. Though there's no one to blame for it but herself. She fired that arrow. She destroyed her home and her father along with it. 

"Do you wanna turn back?" He asks. She holds his gentle gaze for a few seconds, let's him reach up and tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear, allows him to run his thumb through her bottom lip. But deep down in the depths of her skin, she knows she doesn't deserve any of it. 

"I'm fine." She says. Even she cringes at how unconvincing it sounds. 

But Armin doesn't push any further. His hand encircles hers, his fingertips trace her palm, over her ring, down to her nails, the edges of her fingertips. He keeps walking. Annie wonders whose bones they're stepping on. There's no way to clarify. These people will never be identified. They'll never get a proper burial. For the rest of eternity, they will remain as nothing but piles upon piles of bones. They all hate her. 

There were about a hundred survivors. The lucky ones, they'd been labeled. But none of that was lucky. Not when their home was bombed and their loved ones were killed. Not when they don't have a home to return to. None of that is lucky. They survived so they can live a worse hell. A life of misery. 

Maybe one day it'll get better. The bones will be burned, the town rebuilt and if they're willing to forget, the people will return to their homes. She never will. 

Armin squeezes her hand. Once, twice, thrice but no amount of times can stop the ghosts from surrounding her. One by one, they creep up on her like silent shadows. They close in, step by step. She can see the faces of the residents of Liberio. Angry glares and angst-filled eyes stare back at her. They scream, they cry, they beg for her to help them and when there's nothing she can do, they close in on her. 

She stops walking. 

When he realizes Annie's feet aren't in sync with his anymore, Armin turns. He looks at her. She's staring at a pile of rubble on the ground. The remains of a house. Upon seeing the shadows her eyes have casted he understands. He moves closer to wrap his delicate arms around her but she pushes him away and walks forward. A step. Two. She stops again. 

Her voice is so small when she finally speaks. Like even the slightest gust of wind can blow it away. "This is where my house used to be." She can't break. Not now. Not like this. 

Armin stares at all the rubble. It shuffles and a family of rats runs out, their feet leaving footprints in the dust. They, too have lost. He wraps his arm protectively around her shoulder and lets her rest her head against him. She lets out a shaky sigh. He can feel the tears she's suppressing. His hand trails through her back as his lips press against her temple. He can't let her break. Not in front of the cameras pointed at them. He has to keep her whole. She knows that. 

Annie breaks from his embrace and straightens her stance. She walks through the rubble. The ground is littered with broken pieces of furniture, shattered picture frames, shards of glass and old china, little things her father kept in their house. Annie doesn't allow herself to spare one single look at them. 

The woman behind the camera speaks up. "Annie, is there anything you'd like to say?" 

Annie turns to face the camera. She's unable to muster the courage it takes to let go of Armin's hand. She racks her brain for something, anything she could say in this situation that wouldn't make her entirely useless. Her lips part but when she's unable to utter anything out, she seals them again. 

Instead of words pouring out of her mouth like they're supposed to, Armin's voice booms from beside her. "I have a message for everyone watching." With the extension of his arm he gestures to the rubble around them. "Everything you see here, all this rubble, all these bones, it's all Marley's doing. They bombed innocent people for something they had no control over so when you choose a side, think wisely. The Marleyan's might feed you, might shield you from what they're doing to us but they can turn on you just as easily. Annie did what she had to do. In order to defeat a monster we must abandon our humanity and all that makes us human." He stands there, tall and wise with the soft breeze of the wind traveling past his face. He doesn't stutter once. He keeps Annie still when she feels like crumbling. He keeps the entire world still for what feels like a century but is probably only a couple of seconds. Finally, the woman behind the camera loosens her shoulders. 

"Cut." She says. Even she is captivated. "Good work today, you two. We should head back now." 

But Annie shakes her head and looks back at the ghostly town around her. There are things she wishes to say but can't word. Armin's speech shook her, crumbled her, even. What good is she if she can't even speak to a camera? How is she supposed to convince a whole country to fight with her? Armin should be the face of the rebellion. 

When she closes her eyes, she sees all of it. People fighting by his side, supporting him, winning. He's made for this. He's always been better with words than her and she hates herself for it. She's the reason her hometown is like this. It's all her fault. 

She sees the people that once filled these streets live their day-to-day lives. She sees herself. And her father. She sees her father, his tone is raised like usual, his face holds a stern expression as he directs her in her kicks. The sky, a clear blue. Her thoughts, a darkened day. She'd take that over this ashen town any day. She'll take the endless kicking over the stacks of bones if it means all those people are still alive. But she'd do it all over if it means Armin would be by her side for the rest of her life. She'd stain her hands with blood all over again. 

Armin walks the streets of Liberio. His eyes refuse to face those of the fractured skulls. He didn't expect his first time vising his lovers hometown would be like this. She's as broken as the bones that line the ground. He knows that. What he doesn't know, though, is how to help her. How to stop the self-hatred she's boiling up inside her. 

He takes her hand, again. "Let's go home." 

"Paradis isn't my home." Is all she answers with. Her stare is just as blank as her tone. Armin understands why. He squeezes her hand, his reminder to her that he'll always be there. That she can lean on him now and for the rest of her life. That even if she hates herself, he could never hate her. Despite everything, he'll be there no matter how many flaming arrows she fires at him. He'll be the one igniting every single one and holding her hands steady when she aims. And when she has no home to return to, he'll open his door for her. 

And, as he walks the street of Liberio, Armin realizes that he's prepared to shatter himself in order to put Annie's pieces back together. He'll help her rebuild the ghost town she destroyed.

A/N: Heyyyy soooo... This isn't TOO on theme but Armin's in Liberio sooo... It works?? It's the only thing that came to mind