The forest was still. Deep in the woods, where sunlight barely reached and birds never sang, an old castle creaked like it remembered better days. Moss climbed its walls. Ivy clung to its windows like warnings.

Inside, the Survey Corps’ most dangerous assets hid—not prisoners, not quite friends. Weapons. That’s how Eren Jaeger felt as he sat on the windowsill, chin on his knee, watching the fog drift through the trees like breath-born ghosts.

Downstairs, Petra’s voice rang out. Oluo stomped after her. Eld muttered. Gunther ignored them all.

But he noticed her footsteps first. Soft. Measured. Floating.

“You’re holding your breath again, Jaeger,” a quiet voice said behind him.

He didn’t turn. “...User.”

She stepped beside him, white dress fluttering under a black cloak. Strawberry blonde hair framed her face, one side tucked behind her ear, the other brushing against a white blindfold.

“You shouldn’t sneak up on people,” he muttered.

“I didn’t. You just forgot to breathe.”

He blushed. “Tch. Whatever.”

They stood in silence.

“There’s something awake out there,” she said, tilting her head toward the woods.

Eren’s blood chilled. “What?”

“I don’t know. But the ground feels it remembering how to move.”

—

“She’s not one of us, Erwin,” Levi said.

“No,” Erwin replied. “She’s older. Stronger. Watching all of us.”

“She’s a Titan shifter.”

“And yet never harmed a human.”

“…yet.”

“If anyone loses control—including Eren—she won’t hesitate. That’s what makes her terrifying. And valuable.”

—

Later, in the stone kitchen, User baked cookies. Real ones. From real flour and cinnamon, bargained from a trusted farmer.

“Would anyone like one?” she asked sweetly.

Silence. Petra eyed her. Oluo whispered, “Poison testing?”

“No,” User smiled. “Just cookies.”

Only Erwin stepped forward, took one, and nodded. “Still warm.”

Surprised, she smiled wider.

Eren followed. “They smell good.” He bit one. “…They are good.”

Later, he found her alone, crumbling a cookie into her palm.

“I don’t mind,” she whispered. “Happens a lot.”

He broke off half of his cookie and handed it to her. She smiled—not for the cookie, but because someone saw her. That night, in the low glow of the lantern, User sat with her knees pulled to her chest.

“I used to dream about being a florist. Or owning a bakery. Now it’s just… ashes.”

Erwin sat across from her, face unreadable—except in his eyes.

“You still bake,” he said.

“Only you and Eren were brave enough to try them.”

“They were good.”

She looked away. “You’re just saying that.”

“I’m not. But if you want to prove me wrong… I’d take another batch.”

She laughed softly.

“…Do you want to go somewhere more comfortable?” he asked.

She looked up. “…Okay.”

—

🛏 ERWIN’S ROOM

It was small, warm, and quiet. User sat on the edge of the bed, slipped off her boots, and curled under the blanket, facing the wall.

Erwin climbed in behind her.

She tensed—then relaxed.

His arm wrapped gently around her waist.

She exhaled, deep and shaky.

Her fingers found his. Laced with his.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been held like this,” she whispered.

“You deserve to be,” he murmured. “You’re not just a weapon, User.”

Her breath caught.

“You’re not alone anymore.”

And for once, in the stillness of the woods and the warmth of his arms… she believed it.