Never let me go

2: Bad liar

Wall Rose Year 848 - The titan training forest:

The wind howled in her ears as Iris was shooting through the forest. She spotted something to her far right and did a sharp turn around a tree at breakneck speed. Zoning in on the titan far off ahead she sped up even more, and the wind made tears form in the corners of her eyes. She reached the titan before any of the others, though she thought she could hear a pursuer somewhere behind her. Iris has always been quick and agile which translated well to her combat skills. Her gas management and control at high speeds were exemplary, she knew. She readied her blades and moved in for the kill. But as soon as she made her cut she knew it would be shallow. As usual. She kept on going and saw the trees clear up and the finishing line came into fight. Behind her she could hear someone, Mikasa no doubt, zoom in and cut the titan she had already tagged. Mikasa's blades always bit down hard.

Her feet connected with the ground by the goalpost and she shuffled over to a large flat rock, kicking the ground as she went. She slumped down on top of the rough stone. She heard Mikasa landing close by.

"Iris," Mikasa said as she drew closer, "you need to cut them deeper or they will not die."

"I know. I'll do better next time, don't worry about me."

"I'm not. Eren might try to save you one day because he cares for the weak. I might not be able to save you both." Mikasa stated frankly. Internally Iris groaned.

"I'd be more worried about him doing something silly for Armin."

"That's true," the girl said with a troubled look and sat down next to Iris. They waited quietly for the rest of their comrades to finish their training.

~~**~~

Iris slouched in the shade with her back leaned against the stem of a large oak tree. It was a hot afternoon, and the sun had burned her face slightly during their training earlier, so her cheeks and nose felt hot. The small, black, leather bound book she held in her hands was worn from having been read countless of times. It was a poetry collection she had found almost ten years ago in her father's study. He had a hidden compartment behind one of the bookshelves, and from there Iris had borrow this small unnamed book. None of the works were accredited to anyone, even though they all had titles. She'd always thought it was a mysterious book, because the styles of the poems inside were too varied for them to have been written by one person. Yet no one had signed their work. She had borrowed the book from her father, and forgotten to return it for years. Finally she felt like it belonged to her, since he obviously had not noticed it missing. Most of the poems inside were dark and sad, but she had always found those tales the most interesting.

She lifted her eyes from the book and stared into the brushes and greenery without really seeing it. She thought of how she wished she could go home once more, and claim more of her father's books. Especially the strange ones he'd thought fit to keep hidden from his family. Why had he done that? Her father was not a man to keep secrets, she thought. He was just a soft spoken man with odd little hobbies. A man she had loved and admired when she was little. Even now she felt the dagger twist inside her when she thought of him, and all that he had meant to her. All that he had taught her. She thought of the gaping hole he'd left in her life and in her heart. She imagined him sitting in his clinic now, bent over some paperwork he would not put down until he was finished with it. Then he'd take his hat from the hanger by the door, and head home. Back to the house his daughter no longer lived in. Did he care? Did he ever open her door to peek inside, hoping to find her there again even though he must know she would not return? And again, like so many times before she wondered why he had abandoned her when she had needed him the most. Some part of her even wondered if he had ever loved her at all, though he must have. At least at some point.