Number 48

Chapter 1

It had been 1 year. 1 year since my parents died in an accident. 1 year since Mikasa (my adopted sister) and I grew appart. It had been 1 year since my life changed completely.

My name is Eren Jaeger, I am 19 years old and straight. I lost both of my parents. I live in a small apartment with my best friend Armin. That's about all you need to know about me.

It was a nice warm day. I sighed as I lifted the grocery bags. I bought too much again. I walked along the road, moving around people. Armin was studying so he couldn't help me. In fact, he was always studying. Reading, learning, loading information into his brain.

He enjoyed it a lot, unlike me. I absolutely hated studying. I considered it a waste of time. I spent most of high school relaxing and skipping school with friends, but university was a lot more serious. I actually had to learn shit and read books, luckily Armin would help me with that.

I had been walking for 15 minutes now and my arms hurt like hell. I saw a group of teenagers walk past me. One of them pushed me, which caused one of my bags too fall into the floor. The groceries scattered on the floor. I turned around, only to find the teenagers laugh and walk off. I was really angry inside, but I sighed and knelt down to start picking up groceries that fell. I saw many feet walk past me, ignoring me.

I moved around picking up things when suddenly a pair of nice black shoes stopped in front of me. I ignored it, thinking it was another random person who would just walk away, but to my surprise the shoes stayed there. I moved my body to reach the bag of oranges that had spilled, when a cloud of smoke was blown in my face. I coughed in disgust and looked up to examine the owner of those black shoes. It was a short man, 1 or 2 years older than me. He had pale skin, and jet black hair, that was parted in the middle. Surely he was holding a cigarette between his middle and pointer finger.

I angrily look at him and then reached out for the rest of the oranges. They had rolled off in different directions. As I was about to reach the one rolling off to the side of the road, the mysterious short man took it. He examined it with his dull grey eyes and then handed it to me.

"So brat...you need some help?"

"I'll be just fine thank you," I mumbled.

"Those oranges will roll away if you pick everything up alone."

I looked up at his face. He was still holding onto the cigarette. Why was he so persistent in trying to help me? But I guess he was right about the oranges.

"I guess I wouldn't mind your help."

The short man smirked and threw the cigarette onto the road, crushing it with his black shoes. He pulled up his pants and kneeled down in front of me to help me. Out of the corner of my eye I kept on noticing his strong grip picking up groceries. Surprisingly strong for a man his height. Soon enough we finished picking up the groceries. The short man took the second bag, as we both stood up to face each other. He seemed a lot shorter than I thought.

"Thank you for helping me."

He nodded, handing me the bag and then putting his hands in his pockets. Then he walked to the direction I came from and disappeared behind a building. I suddenly felt lonely. It was strange. It felt like that short man gave me company for the few minutes he was with me. There was something about that short man, something about his look, or him insisting on helping me, I don't know what, but it was very strange.