The chalk hit Eren right between his eyes and he flinched as it bounced off his forehead and landed on the open book in front of him.

He looked around wildly, and realised most of the class was staring at him save for Mikasa, who sat directly in front of him and was keeping her eyes forward. Armin was looking worried, and was presumably mouthing an answer, but Eren could read lips about as well as he could stay awake in class on balmy afternoons and had no idea what he was trying to say. Jean was smirking at him, which was never a good sign, and everyone else just looked vaguely relieved that Shadis was picking on someone else.

"It's good to have you back with us, Mister Jaeger," Shadis said heavily. "Could we trouble you for an answer to the question?"

"Uh."

Fine, he'd been caught staring out the window and daydreaming again. Dragging it out like this was just unfair. He stood up and took a deep breath.

"Could you repeat the question please, Sir?"

"For you, Eren, perhaps a third time will be a charm." He was so sarcastic. He was everyone's least-favourite teacher for reason, and he never missed with the chalk. "From what portion of the flax plant to we derive the flax fibers used in making fabric and rope?"

Eren was sure they were supposed to be doing geography today. How did they get onto flax? He lowered his eyes to surreptitiously scan the notebook in front of him, but other than some half-hearted notes from the beginning of the lesson regarding astronomy (seriously, how did they get from there to flax?) and some sketches of sailing ships, there was nothing to help him. The blackboard was equally unedifying.

"Ah." He could guess. There were only so many parts to a plant. The roots didn't sound right. Flowers? Leaves?

"Artlet! Stop helping him."

Eren felt bad as Armin flinched, chalk bouncing off his head as he stilled the strange hand movements he was making. Eren didn't understand them anyway.

"Quiet at the back." He hoped Jean would cop some chalk for sniggering but no such luck.

Mikasa probably knew the answer, but she couldn't and wouldn't help. He was on his own.

"The flowers?" Eren hazarded a guess.

Shadis sighed, and his shoes clumped on the worn wooden floorboards as he made his way between the rows of desks. He held out his hand and Eren meekly dropped the piece of chalk into it.

"Completely and utterly wrong, Jaeger." Eren sat down again and Shadis slapped him over the back of the head with the sheaf of notes he held in his other hand, messing his hair. Eren looked appropriately contrite as Shadis walked on. "Anyone else? Not you, Artlet."

Armin put his hand back down. Eren met his eyes and grinned to let him know he hadn't been terribly traumatised by his experience.

Marco knew the answer, and Eren dutifully wrote down that flax was obtained from the skin of the stem, or bast, of the flax plant. So that's what Armin had been trying to mime. There was no way he'd ever need to know this crap, Eren thought. Shadis's voice was soon rolling peacefully over him again, and Eren's gaze drifted once more towards the window.

Outside, the afternoon sun was shining down on the cobbled rooftops of Shiganshina, and beyond that the sparkling blue of the bay. The schoolhouse overlooked the town, and a gentle sea breeze brought relief to the students sweltering through the last lesson of the afternoon. As the end of the lesson approached the class grew restive, shuffling their feet and scrawling down the night's homework, pens tapping impatiently against books, non-essential items surreptitiously put away ahead of time.

After what seemed like an age, Shadis closed his books, collected his notes, and told them they were dismissed, and noise welled up from the class like water bubbling out of a spring. Eren sighed and slumped back in his chair.

"Finally."

"I'm so hungry!" Sasha declared, throwing her arms up in the air. Chairs were pushed back, and bags were hastily packed.

"You were daydreaming again," Mikasa said, turning around in her chair to look at Eren.

Eren grinned, "Can you blame me? Just look at the weather out there."

"Beach! Beach!" Connie bounced past, his schoolbag on his back, one of the straps flapping loose. "C'mon guys. The tide will be out."

"Yeah!" Eren said, sweeping the items on his desk carelessly into his bag. "Right behind you."

"What about foooood?" Sasha asked.

"You can stuff your face on the way," Connie said. "I want to check the crab pot."

"Like you're ever going to catch anything," Jean said. "Something must be wrong with your bait."

Mikasa nodded and packed up her things without comment. She always went wherever Eren did, and rarely argued about how they should spend their time.

"Eren," Armin said with a serious look. "You won't forget to do your homework again, will you? Shadis is going to give us both detention if he finds you copying mine again."

"I'll do it, I've got all evening. Reiner, are you coming with us?"

"Bertolt needs to go to the library first."

Right.

They clattered out of the classroom and onto the cobbled streets outside. Eren could feel the heat coming off the ground through his shoes. For another day, they were free. They chattered and bumped against each other and paused halfway down the slope to buy sweet bread from a little bakery and stick their heads under the public pump and drink straight from the spout.

The ocean awaited them. The tide was out, and the deep channel into the bay that the ships used was bordered by shallow water and sandbars. They left their bags on the dock and took off their shoes and socks before dropping down to the sand. Eren paused, like he did every day, to stare at the ships tied up by the pier. Mostly they were small fishing vessels, but there was usually one or two of the tall ships that took exploration teams and trade goods (yes, flax, probably) to distant and strange lands. It was these stately galleons that made his heart beat faster, and their shapes filled the margins of his notebooks. They were so beautiful, they looked like they could fly.

"Oi! Eren! You just stay there and look after our bags if you're scared of getting you feet wet," Jean called.

Eren scowled and launched himself off the dock, landing in the loose warm sand with a thump.

"Like hell!" He hurried to catch up, and tried unsuccessfully to kick sand in Jean's direction.

They hopped across the hot sand to the water, which was still and calm here. He could hear the breakers crashing bit further along where the beach wasn't so protected by the curve of the bay and the breakwater. Connie was in front, eagerly searching for his crab pot, while the others trailed along behind, warm sunlit water lapping at their knees.

They had until the sun went down to look for pipis and explore the rock pools, or fling themselves down on the sand and talk. Ymir stripped off to her underwear as usual and went swimming, as always trying to get Krista to join her without much success. Connie didn't catch anything in his crab trap and he threw it back into the water with a scowl. Marco tossed the last scrap of his bread to the seagulls and Sasha wailed at him that she would have eaten it. Reiner and Bertolt joined them eventually and knowledgeably discussed the what tomorrow's fishing catch was likely to be like. Jean made a half-hearted sandcastle and Eren kicked it in, and they both knew it was just an excuse for a scuffle that everyone else ignored entirely. Armin sorted through the seashells and driftwood that collected at the hide tide mark for anything interesting that might have washed up, and Mikasa stared out to sea with a faint smile on her face, her toes scrunching down into the sand.

The tide was coming in when they made their way back to the docks, brushed the sand off their feet, and bid each other goodnight. Eren stuffed his shoes and socks into his bag, and started walking home with Mikasa.

They were winding their way through the fish markets, deserted and quiet at this time of day, when Eren stopped and glanced back at the bay.

"Look!"

He pointed out beyond the breakwater, where a tall ship was making its way into harbour, the lantern hanging from the prow gleaming like the first star of evening. There was just enough light for her to make it safely inside and drop anchor before it got too dark.

"We should head home," Mikasa said.

"Mm." But Eren didn't move, his eyes glued to the vessel. Years of watching them come and go every spare minute meant he could identify most of the regular ships by sight. He wouldn't leave until he knew who it was coming into harbour because he felt he knew which ship this was.

Mikasa sighed, but stayed by his side as he squinted out at the harbour.

"It's the Wings of Freedom," he declared eventually. "It has to be. Look, the masts-" he instinctively stepped forward, and Mikasa caught his hand.

"Eren, we can't stay here and wait. It'll be dark."

He knew that of course. The Freedom was only just coming into harbour. It would be at least an hour before any of her crew set foot on dry land. So he let Mikasa gently pull him away from the harbour.

"It's late," he said, realising that the stars were starting to come out, and the sun had disappeared from the top of the clock-tower.

"I tried to tell you."

They ran, their schoolbags bouncing on their backs, as they scurried up narrow, winding streets, past inns starting to open for the night trade, shuttered shops and over cold, slow-moving canals spanned by solid wooden bridges. The night air tugged at Eren's hair and he grinned widely; the Freedom was here!

It was only the ship that haunted his dreams. Ever since he'd been small, he remembered watching the green flag with the two wings flutter in the breeze, bringing with it news of exotic places, strange spices, and always a sense that adventure lay just over the horizon. The Freedom didn't carry flax or timber, she carried explorers and surveyors. Eren was determined to one day tread her decks, and look over the horizon for himself. Armin's tales of distant lands had only spurred him further, and he ached to be older. He watched the broadening of his shoulders and the deepening of his own voice with barely-contained impatience; this time, maybe, he'd be old enough to join the crew.

He had to try; he promised himself the last time he'd watched the Freedom leave harbour that he would. Even if he had to wait another year or two, he'd make sure they'd remember his name for next time and impress them with his dedication and determination so when they were next looking for crew, they'd consider him.

Them.

Captain Levi.

Eren had never spoken to him, but he'd seen him a handful of time over the years. Each new sighting made him look shorter as Eren grew taller, but never less awe-inspiring. Erwin Smith owned the Freedom, but Eren knew it was Levi he'd have to convince. Levi had a reputation as one of the most talented and boldest captains on the waves, and even taking into account the sailors' love for a good yarn, the grains of truth in the stories had to be impressive in their own right.

He ran faster, as if by increasing his speed he could bring himself closer to that time where he might take to the sea himself. His hair flopped in front of his eyes and his breath rasped in his throat. Mikasa said nothing, keeping pace without effort, her shoes tapping on the cobblestones and her skirt swishing around her knees. They scurried up flights of stone steps, shouting apologies over their shoulders as they pushed past old women and young sailors and dockworkers returning home.

Finally, Dr Jaeger's house came into view, with the familiar thatched roof and slightly overgrown garden. The lights were on inside, and a curl of smoke drifted from the chimney.

"I'm going to speak to him this time you know," he said, when they finally halted, sweaty and out of breath, outside their house. Eren's mother had lit a lantern near the front gate, which meant his father wasn't home yet. They'd made it in time to avoid a scolding.

"Who?" Mikasa asked.

"Captain Levi, of course. I'm going apply for a position on board the Freedom."

Mikasa frowned at him. "Eren, you haven't finished school. You can't just run away to sea."

"Every year I spend at school is a year spent learning useless things, as opposed to useful ones. What's the point in waiting?" he retorted. "This has always been my plan, you know that."

Mikasa looked like she was going to keep arguing, but his mother opened the front door and interrupted them.

"I thought I heard you," she said. "How was school?"

"Boring," Eren said. It was what he said every day, and Carla stood aside and smiled as they went inside. "What's for dinner?" he asked, inhaling the smoke and cooking smells of his home. "I'm starving."

Upon learning that the fish pie wouldn't be ready for a while yet, Eren went up to his room and flung open the window. He could hear Mikasa and his mother talking as they laid the table below and the tolling of bells out at sea. He would miss the former, he knew, but the pull of the latter was something he was powerless to deny.

With a reluctant sigh, he lit a lamp and slumped down in front of his desk to get his homework started. A few moths flew in his open window, drawn by the lantern, and he brushed them irritably off the page as he worked.

Sometime later he heard his father return.

"Welcome back!" he called as he heard his father's footsteps past his open doorway. Being a doctor Grisha sometimes kept odd hours, but it looked like they'd all be here for dinner tonight. At Carla's call of 'Dinner's ready!' they gathered around the slightly scarred kitchen table.

Grisha talked quietly about his day at work as they passed a bowls of peas and carrots around the table. The lanterns flickered occasionally when the breeze strengthened. Eren and Mikasa split the last slice of pie.

"I saw the Freedom arrive today," Eren said eventually, unable to contain himself much longer.

"Yes," his father said. "I heard she was expected back soon."

Mikasa frowned, and Eren realised too late what she was going to say when she spoke.

"Eren wants to sign up to join the Freedom's crew," she said.

"Mikasa!" Eren rose out of his chair. "That was a secret!"

"Eren!" That was his mother. He met her eyes with a guilty look; he couldn't hide the truth from her now that Mikasa had gone and blabbed it. "You're not serious, are you?"

Mikasa just looked down at her plate.

"Well, yes, what's wrong with it?" he declared defensively.

"You're fifteen!"

"Nearly sixteen!"

"The Freedom isn't some fishing barge- you'll be gone for months, perhaps years, and it's dangerous in the open ocean."

Raised voices were rare in Eren's house, and he didn't like them, but he answered back, angrily. "It's worth it! I don't want to spend my life just sitting in school wasting time!"

"You need school-"

"Eren." His father spoke.

"Yes, you talk some sense into him," Carla said, starting to collect the plates. Mikasa helped her silently, not meeting Eren's eyes. Oh, they were going to talk about this later, he was sure.

"Why do you want to go to sea?" Grisha asked.

Why did he want to go to sea? It wasn't even a question; it was an overwhelming drive, it was what he dreamt about, daydreamed, planned. There had never been any other options in his mind. He had to see what was over the horizon, and desire was so intense it made his chest ache. How could he possibly put that into words?

He looked at his father, but Grisha was leaning back in his chair, his fingers laced together patiently, letting Eren work out what he wanted to say, as wise and knowing as ever. Trusting that Eren would have his reasons.

"I want to know what's over the horizon," he said. "To find out what's beyond the ocean, to learn about the world, isn't that what humans are for? It's not enough to just live peacefully-" The ache in his chest intensified. It was as if he'd already left, that he was looking back nostalgically on his own childhood from beyond the ocean.

"It's not that I'm unhappy here," he said, sparing his mother a glance. He never wanted her to think he was running away, he was running to. "I have to go forward. But I'll come back, I promise."

Carla shook her head.

Grisha sighed, "The spirit of human inquiry can't just be talked away. But Eren, don't make too many promises, and there's no need to hurry, either."

That was the end of the discussion for now. His mother was clearly against it still, and he hung his head guiltily as he started filling the sink to wash up. Mikasa must have felt guilty too, because she picked up a cloth to help him dry up.

"Shouldn't you be doing homework?" Eren asked her, still feeling resentful.

"I'm sorry, Eren," she said. "I had to tell her. It's not fair to take those sorts of decisions without telling your family."

They worked in silence for a while, crockery clinking. Grisha had settled down with a book and Carla had gone upstairs.

"Father didn't say no, at least," Eren said.

"Probably because he knows he couldn't stop you unless he locked you in the basement."

Eren glanced at her, "I can't tell if you're joking or not."

They finished their chores and went upstairs. Eren worked desultorily on his homework for a while. He couldn't quite see the harbour from his bedroom window; a clock tower was between him and the Freedom but he cast wistful glances in its direction anyway.

He knew it was too late to receive permission to go and visit Armin so with the majority of his work completed he made a show of having a bath and going to bed. Mikasa was still working when he bid her goodnight.

"Eren." Her pencil stopped moving across the page and she looked up at him.

"Yeah?"

"I'll come with you, if you go to sea." The lamplight reflected off her eyes, her face a picture of calm resolve.

"You think they'll let you join?" he asked.

She just gave him a knowing look and he laughed. If they hired him, they'd definitely hire her, and they both knew it.

"Yes, I'd like that," he said. He smiled. He was glad he wouldn't have to leave her behind. "Thank you."

"I'll protect you," she said. "From whatever's out there."

"Goodnight, Mikasa."

"Goodnight, Eren."

He flopped back on his bed, and Carla came in to kiss him goodnight like she had when he was small.

The room was dark, but he could tell her expression was a sad one, as she stroked his hair.

"I love you, Eren," she said. "How'd you grow up without me noticing?"

"I love you too, Mother."

"Just remember, you're not an adult yet. Listen to your mother a little, hm?"

He swallowed, and for a few moments after she'd gone, he almost thought about changing his mind. It wouldn't be easy to leave his parents, but he'd known that all along. He lay back with his hands behind his head, waiting until he judged it safe to sneak out.

The house grew quiet. The light coming under his door dimmed. Quietly he threw back the sheet and pulled on a shirt. He tucked his sandshoes into the waistband of his shorts and flung a leg over his windowsill. He'd done this so many times before, and it only got easier as he got taller.

He lowered himself down by his arms. When he'd been younger he'd had to risk climbing on the tomato trellis to get down, but now he could drop down lightly into the garden without leaving suspiciously damaged plants in his wake. He tiptoed away from the house, and out the front gate before putting his shoes on.

The residential part of town was quiet at this time of night. He could hear shouting and laughter coming up from the inns closer to the docks, but that wasn't his destination. He hurried over to Armin's house, a familiar journey even in the dark.

There was a light still burning in Armin's grandfather's room, but Eren knew he'd have to make some serious noise before the old man noticed anything. He'd only been caught once when he'd trodden on a rake left in the garden and nearly knocked himself out with the handle. Even then, all he'd done was patch Eren up and make him a drink before sending him home without telling his parents.

Armin's window was open, and his light was on. Eren took his shoes off again, and dug his fingers and toes into the brickwork as he scaled the side of the building.

"Armin!" he hissed. "Armin! Stop studying!" He was hooking his hands over the edge of the windowsill when Armin's face appeared and he extended a hand to help him inside. Armin was never surprised to see him like this.

Armin's room was full of books, and Eren sat on his bed while Armin went back to his desk; there was nowhere else to sit.

"You're not here to copy my homework, are you?" Armin asked.

"No of course not. I have news; the Freedom is here!" His smile faded, "And Mikasa told my parents about our plan. Mother's not happy, and I don't really know what Father thinks."

"Our plan?" Armin looked at him with wide, worried eyes. "You want to sign up now?"

"The Freedom could be gone for more than a year next time she leaves. I'm just saying, we should give it a try. Mikasa says she'll come too. So you're in as well, right?" Armin had to come too; it was his dream as well.

That mollified Armin somewhat, but he still looked concerned, chewing unhappily on his lip and frowning.

"It's kind of short notice," he said. "Are you sure you saw the Freedom? It wasn't something else?"

"Positive."

"They might not hire us, you know. We don't have any experience."

"We have to try, don't we? Then we can do better the next time; we'll know what experience to get."

"That does make some sort of sense."

"So, let's meet up after school and see if we can get to talk to Captain Levi."

"All right, Eren, I'm in, just like we always planned."

Eren grinned. That was why Armin was his best friend. He knew he would always be right there with him, no matter what, even if he looked like he was going to have trouble getting to sleep now.

"I should head back," Eren said. "I'll see you at school tomorrow, okay?"

"What about your parents?"

"I dunno," Eren frowned. "They can't stop me. Unless they lock me in the basement, Mikasa said."

"She might give them ideas," Armin said with that strange look he got when he made one of his rare jokes.

"Ah! You'll jinx it. Okay, I'm going now."

"You could probably use the door now if you wanted, I don't think Grandfather minds," Armin said, as Eren started climbing out the window again.

"It's tradition," he said as he dropped down.

He'd hoped talking to Armin would calm him down enough that he could go to sleep, but somehow it had only fired him up more. He found himself walking the quiet streets with quick, impatient steps. First he told himself that he just wanted to see the harbour, but he could barely make out the Freedom lolling offshore from his vantage point up near the post office.

So he headed down towards the docks. It wasn't really unsafe here, even for a fifteen-year-old. The people most likely to cause him trouble, other boys, would be in bed and he was confident he could outrun anything worse if he had to. He hurried past knots of loud young men and women, some of them staggering drunk. He didn't care about any of them; he just wanted to look out over the harbour.

"Eren!" He pulled up sharply as he recognised Hannes and his friends, sitting around a small table outside a cafe, the table littered with bottles and playing cards. His face was flushed, but he'd recognised Eren instantly as he'd darted past. "What are you doing here so late?"

"Uh." Crap. "I'm running an errand for Doctor Jaeger," he said, struck by a sudden bolt of inspiration.

"Well get going, don't just stand there, boy."

Eren took off again. No one questioned that a doctor might need something in a hurry in the middle of the night. Feeling very pleased with himself, and bolder now that he had a satisfactory cover story, Eren sped up and stopped avoiding the lighted places. He may as well take a look at the side of Shiganshina that he rarely saw. These were real sailors, loitering and laughing and drinking and flirting. Someday he'd be one of them, with his own stories about far-off places and adventure on the ocean.

Technically, he'd start making his dreams a reality tomorrow, but it felt like the adventure was starting now. He wanted to see it, the ocean; he could smell it, even through the cooking and wood-smoke and wine. He felt like his heart was going to burst.

He rounded the corner of an inn and started trying to slow himself down as he realised the door was open and he was going to crash into someone. Only he didn't crash. That person wasn't there any more; they just sort of flowed out of his way. He felt strong, cool fingers wrap around his wrist briefly and then he was airborne, his momentum carrying him what felt like halfway down the street.

"Captain!" he heard a woman say in alarm.

And then he hit the ground with a crunch, his breath knocked out of him, banging his knee and his forearms as he landed on damp cobblestones that smelled of old fish, salt and beer.

"Ugh. Ow." He'd been brought back down to earth, figuratively and literally, and he realised he might have made a mistake coming down here. He half expected a boot to the ribs.

"It's just a kid," someone said. "I thought you were being attacked."

"Are you all right?" He blinked as he saw a hand extended towards him. It belonged to a young woman with shoulder-length ginger hair and kind eyes. She was dressed in a neat sailor's uniform with a green cloak.

"Yes, I think. Thank you." He accepted the offered hand and she helped him to his feet. He was going to need another bath, he realised, but none of his bangs and scrapes looked too serious. He'd have bruises tomorrow.

He was the centre of attention in a circle of people, most of whom were dressed similarly to the woman who helped him. He noticed, unlike most of the other sailors, they were all armed, swords on hips, pistols in belts. They regarded him, for the most part, with amusement and he realised his life wasn't in danger. Not from them, anyway.

The only real source of immediate danger looked to be the very person he'd almost run into, and who had sent him flying with a flick of his wrist. Eren's heart sank as his gaze rose, up over immaculate boots, a dark grey bridge coat unbuttoned at the front as a concession to the warm evening, the polished wooden handles of two holstered pistols, neatly buttoned shirt and immaculate cravat, to meet the cold grey eyes of Captain Levi.

Eren slammed his fist against his own chest in a hasty salute and bowed at the same time. "My apologies Captain Levi, Sir! I wasn't looking where I was going."

A tall blonde man with a short ponytail chuckled at him, but Eren didn't take his eyes off Levi, whose expression of irritated disgust hadn't changed.

The woman laughed, "Captain Levi, you've got a fan."

"What sort of moron runs blindly through the docks in the middle of the night?" He gave a barely perceptible shrug and turned away. The others followed, casting amused or sympathetic looks over their shoulders.

"Be careful," the woman said.

Levi stalked ahead of his crew as they talked quietly among themselves, heading down to the docks. Eren just stood there; he wanted desperately to say something, but he didn't know what and his tongue refused to move anyway. It felt like it was stuck to the roof of his mouth. So much for a good first impression.