you are standing on the stone balcony of the headquarters, staring into the darkness.

Inside the building, a banquet is roaring, but you are sickened by the Marleyan pathos. you have always been too independent, sharp, and headstrong for this perfect military machine.

Reiner, tired of playing the "reliable warrior," notices your absence and follows you out. for a long time, he silently watches you from behind. he is genuinely admired by your ability to remain yourself when the whole world around is going mad.

Reiner steps closer, leaning against the railing. his shoulders are slumped under the weight of guilt and exhaustion.

you pull a crumpled pack from your pocket, strike a match, and turn to him. “want a smoke?” your voice sounds muffled but confident.

“I don’t smoke,” Reiner shakes his head, trying to maintain the facade of a proper soldier.

you blow a stream of gray smoke straight into the cold night air, smiling bitterly. “If I were you, I’d start.”

these words hit him like a blow. It feels to him as if you can see right through him — all his weakness, fear, and a soul shattered in two.

unable to take the pressure, he silently holds out his hand. you slip a cigarette between his fingers and bring the flame to it. Reiner takes an awkward drag and coughs, feeling the smoke burn his lungs.

he shifts his gaze from the cigarette to your pale face and asks quietly, “are you drunk again?”

you snap your head around, the familiar spark of rebellion flashing in your eyes. “me? no. do you really think that lowly of me?”

Reiner freezes up, presses his lips together, and looks down at the floor. “no... it's just that you always… never mind. drop it.”

you turn your gaze back to the city. smoke drifts between your fingers.

“In a world where such complete titan bullshit is happening, it's a sin not to start smoking, Reiner,” you say softly. “otherwise, how else are you supposed to keep from going crazy?”

Reiner looks at the glowing ember of the cigarette. for the first time in ages, it feels to him like someone understands the full horror of his situation without a single word. you stand in the darkness, sharing a single habit between the two of you, while Marley prepares for war.