Attack on Titan X Male reader

Echoes Of The Past

Y/n stood at the edge of the training grounds, the sun blazing overhead as the recruits engaged in various drills and exercises. The sounds of laughter and camaraderie filled the air, but for him, it felt like an echo from a life he had chosen to leave behind. He had made his decision—he would forge his own path, free from the ties that once bound him to his friends. Their voices, once comforting, now served only as reminders of a past he wished to forget.

He turned his back on the lively scene, focusing instead on the familiar weight of his blades, the cool steel a grounding force amidst the chaos of his thoughts. Training had become his refuge, an escape from the memories that haunted him. Each swing of his blade, each leap into the air, was a promise to himself: he would become stronger, and nothing would stand in his way.

“Y/n!” a voice called out, breaking through his concentration. He turned to see Armin approaching, concern etched across his face.

“Not now, Armin,” Y/n replied curtly, trying to mask the frustration that bubbled beneath the surface. He didn’t want to engage, didn’t want to feel the weight of their past friendship pressing down on him.

“Can we talk?” Armin asked, his tone earnest. “We’ve been worried about you. You’ve been training nonstop. It’s not healthy.”

Y/n felt a familiar irritation flare within him. “I don’t need you or anyone else telling me what’s healthy for me. I’m fine.”

“Are you really?” Armin pressed, his voice steady. “This isn’t like you, Y/n. You’re pushing everyone away. We just want to help.”

The frustration that had been simmering within Y/n boiled over. “Help? What do you think you can do? I don’t need help from anyone! I’ve decided to focus on my strength, and that’s it.”

Armin’s expression faltered, hurt flashing across his features. “But we care about you. We want you to be happy, Y/n. It’s not just about strength; it’s about being part of something.”

Y/n’s heart hardened at Armin’s words. “Part of something.” The phrase echoed in his mind, a reminder of all the times he had felt weak and helpless amidst the group. He had chosen isolation to escape the vulnerability that came with friendship, and he wasn’t about to waver now. “I’m not part of anything anymore. I’m done with all of that.”

With that, Y/n turned away, refusing to let Armin’s plea reach him. The ache of guilt gnawed at him, but he pushed it aside. He had made his choice, and now it was time to embrace it fully. There would be no more distractions, no more reminders of a life that felt like a distant memory.

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Days turned into weeks, and Y/n’s training intensified. He no longer participated in group drills or shared meals with the other recruits. He trained alone, honing his skills with relentless determination. His muscles ached, but he welcomed the pain; it reminded him he was alive, that he was still pushing forward.

As he pushed through each exercise, he began to find solace in the solitude. He was the architect of his own strength, unburdened by the expectations of others. He could finally focus on what truly mattered—becoming the strongest version of himself. The desire to protect those he had cared about faded, replaced by a singular ambition: to become a force that could not be ignored.

But the emptiness lingered, a constant reminder of what he had sacrificed. At night, when he lay in bed, he could still hear the echoes of laughter in his mind, fleeting images of Mikasa, Armin, and Eren flashing before him. They had been his friends, his family, and yet he had chosen to sever those ties.

“Why did I do this?” he would whisper to himself, staring at the ceiling. “Why did I let them go?”

Yet each time those thoughts crept in, he silenced them with the reminder of his purpose. He had decided that the bonds he had formed were a weakness. Emotions made him vulnerable, and he couldn’t afford that in a world filled with uncertainty.