better now | pieck finger

four

The establishment of Marley's fighting force is just another way for the generals and war chiefs to scold (or perhaps spit) on you and your fellow Eldians. It's also just another way for your people to be traumatized by homesickness. You fell victim to its wrath after the first five months of being a Warrior Candidate, but it isn't like you exactly have a home to return to; you figure it's the place itself that you miss. Homesickness is an effect of enlistment and it sticks to you for years.

The railcar reached the drop-off area a few minutes ago and now you're walking alongside Pieck who is having a hard time with her crutches. Her duffel bag is slung over your shoulder and you carry your backpack on your back, slouching like a goblin due to its weight on your spine.

Pieck owns the duffel bag. She still can't stand without the help of her crutches so you took the initiative to carry her luggage. As thankful as she was, it seems like your help isn't enough for her crippling figure since she's limply walking on the station platform again.

"Trans...formation... has its downsides, huh?" Colt sluggishly mutters in a hangover state, his tongue tripping over the words as he gently gets carried by his younger brother Falco with his head hanging low.

"Tell me about it," you mutter back.

Nonetheless, Pieck can walk (limp) to the zone entrance. She takes a relieved inhale when the zone gates open for the Eldian Warriors to swarm in. Dozens of families line up. Eager eyes search through the crowd of soldiers for their children while yours stay trained on the gravel as you follow Pieck run into her father's arms.

"Pieck!"

The homesickness jumped out, you think, as the woman forgets about her inability to walk and clumsily runs past numerous homesick Eldians alike, eventually stumbling on her feet and falling into her father's embrace. She giggles like a child and wraps her arms around the old man's neck and unconsciously drops her crutches. Awkwardness beats the momentary warmth in your chest so you find yourself playing with the strap of your friend's (wait, friend's?) duffel bag.

Her father is nice. You can see the pair's similarities just by observation. Besides their facial features (the hair, the noses, the lips, the smiles), the Finger resemblance is clear in their actions. Something about that embrace reminds you of Pieck's efforts to take care of her team during the dire times in war. It's tender. It bespeaks their benevolence and a strong sense of love that is familial, and if you were envious of the many family reunions happening around you a few minutes ago, then you are more envious now.

The Panzer Unit is the closest thing you can call a family, but even then, everyone in the unit has a family to come home to, which leaves you in a slump of loneliness whenever Marleyan officials give the Warriors a day off to return to Liberio. You haven't felt real love and its warmth in years, and if you have any of it left to offer, then it's no doubt to your boss who you owe the whole world to for treating you with kindness since day one.

You don't notice how quickly the evening arrived. A pastel purple hue colors the sky as sun-kissed clouds litter it like a canvas. Lanterns are lit and hung on the civilians' front doors to greet the setting sun, and after five o'clock, the internment zone is nearly empty and clear of people.

The door behind you opens. Pieck emerges in the same attire as earlier, only now with the absence of her crutches and the messy hairdo. She shoots you a smile.

"Miss Pieck?! Where are your crutches?"

"My father treated my injury after dinner." She walks towards you. "And that's just Pieck for you. I'm fine. Let's go."

You nod. She leads the way and you timidly follow. Exiting the internment zone whether Warrior or civilian is prohibited at night, so you're nothing but a nervous wreck right now. You had insisted to go out on the date on another day, but the woman argued earlier during dinner that she wanted it tonight. You gave into her pleas after hearing her father cheer her on; you just can't afford to embarrass yourself right in front of a parent.

"What are those bastards doing out this late at night?" You hear a Marleyan guard mumble once you reach the gate. His colleague eyes you both up and down. "Oi, you two. What's your business?"

"We've been summoned by Zeke Yeager for nightly inspection at Headquarters." Pieck presents an admission sheet and the guard nods. After giving you another look, the gates open and you and the woman rush out of the internment zone.

A long thirty-minute walk was all it took for you to arrive at the lively night market in mainland Marley. A variety of food stalls line up the sidewalk while seats scatter about. Every streetlight is lit and every stall has a light source of its own. The night market used to only appear every two months, but because of the feud against the Mid-East Alliance, business slowed down and the marketplace was abandoned. Tonight is the first time it bloomed in four  years and you couldn't be more grateful after seeing the beautiful calm scenery.

This is more like it. This is the dream.

"Have you ever had ice cream, (Y/N)?" Pieck motions for you to come where she stands in front of an ice cream stall. Your heart pounds as you meet the eyes of the vendor who stares at you suspiciously. It's as if he can see through your fake confidence that you definitely did not just hide your Eldian armband before coming here, but one look at the frozen treat and your anxiety vanishes. You shake your head.

"I haven't," you simply answer. You peer down at the different ice cream flavors and your stomach rumbles. Anxiety is replaced with hunger in addition to the drool pooling in your mouth. Pieck exchanges a few words with the vendor and unravels a couple of rusted coins from her back pocket which you suspect to be from Porco. In the span of five minutes, you are both roaming around the marketplace with big grins and chocolate and vanilla ice creams in hand.

While walking side by side, your fingers lightly collide. Your heart skips a beat. There is a palpitation in your chest that sets fire to your cheeks and catches your breath unevenly. You pretend that nothing has occurred, keeping your eyes fixated on anything but the woman beside you, but it's hard to ignore the barely noticeable flinch of her fingers and startled eyes. Nonetheless, you keep your eyes focused on the food stalls, on the sky, on the lights, on the food, just on anything to help you forget the accidental contact and Pieck's subsequent reaction.

Until, she grabs your hand and knits her fingers with yours.

"It's warm, isn't it?"

You recall the memory of holding her hand to assist her into Reiner's room. That one interaction on top of the following events tested your feelings greatly. Just like before, her palms are homely and soft to the touch, making you snuggle closer to feel her warmth.

"It is, Pieck."