Scene: The Quiet After the Storm

It had been a long, grueling day for the Scouts. The mission had gone well, but the aftermath of battle always left its mark. Exhausted bodies were scattered across the camp, some collapsed on the ground, others sitting in silence as the final rays of sunlight dipped below the horizon. The air smelled of dust, sweat, and the faintest hint of smoke, but for the moment, the world felt still.

Armin sat by the campfire, his mind still racing over the mission’s strategies, replaying every moment to make sure he hadn’t missed anything, but his body betrayed him. It was exhausted, and the familiar ache in his head from the mental strain was starting to take hold. He tucked his knees up to his chest and rested his chin on them, trying to steady himself, but the world around him felt just a bit too loud, the conversations and laughter of the other Scouts too overstimulating.

Eren noticed.

He had been talking with Jean and the others, but his eyes kept flicking over to Armin, noticing how his friend had curled into himself, his brow furrowed. The sounds of the camp seemed to overwhelm him in a way Eren recognized all too well. He took a few steps toward Armin, moving without hesitation, instinctively, just as he always did.

Without saying a word, Eren sat down next to him, the familiar warmth of his presence grounding Armin immediately. He didn’t ask what was wrong. Eren knew Armin would tell him when he was ready, if he ever needed to. Instead, Eren simply lowered his voice, almost as if the world itself were too loud for Armin. “You alright?” His voice was soft, careful, but laced with the concern that always lingered when Armin wasn’t feeling like himself.

Armin didn’t respond right away. His fingers were fiddling with the edge of his sleeve, a small habit he had when he was lost in thought or anxiety. Eren, never one for long silences, waited, knowing that Armin needed a moment.