A/N: Heyyy, everyone, what's up? I know I haven't posted anything in a while but that's because I've started working on several multi-chapter Attack on Titan stories ;) But, since the third season of the anime has reached its mid-season finale (and what an AMAZING season it is until now), I decided to publish one of these stories before the others follow :) Hope you'll like it.

This fanfic contains MAJOR SPOILERS about the Marley arc of the manga and especially the more recent chapters, so be warned. To those of you who've caught up with the latest one, I don't follow the plot concerning the volunteers and Eren, we take things from Sasha's death (boo-hoo-hoo) and go on from there.

The story is a product of inspiration and specially dedicated to my dear friend, fellow-Attack on Titan fan and fellow-JeanSasha shipper T3lis, who first gave the idea for the plot and has helped me immensely with the development and his ideas (and by dealing with my fangirling craziness, haha), so enjoy the story, my friend :)

And yep, this story will contain shipping feels (JeanxSasha is my OTP, after all, and Isayama RUINED it with that goddamn Chapter 105), so be warned :P

If you haven't watched the Netflix TV series 13 Reasons Why, which gave the inspiration for this fic, I highly recommend it, it's amazing, extremely well-written and gives food for thought. If you have seen it...you'll notice the parallels, hehe.

Disclaimer: I don't own neither the Attack on Titan universe and characters nor 13 Reasons Why

Jean has to admit that the safe-house Historia has chosen as a temporary residence is almost idyllic. Not very spacious, yet comfortable, accommodated to her needs and with easy access for all those who want to visit her or make sure that everything is going smoothly. As he observes the young Queen now, sitting in a rocking chair on the front porch, surrounded by the woods and the sound of nature, it's like he's filled with a calmness he hasn't felt for a very long time.

"It was nice seeing you, Jean. Greet everyone for me, will you? Tell them you're all welcome to visit whenever you like." She tells him now and attempts to smile at him, although the nineteen-year-old Scout knows she's faking it.

He recalls his earlier thoughts about their peaceful surroundings and he's filled with regrets at the fact that they do little to ease Historia's mood. His blonde friend is in a very delicate situation due to her pregnancy, she'll give birth in approximately a month and these days she's always tired and sullen, with bags under her eyes. Besides, the recent tragedy that has struck the Survey Corps is still weighing down on all of them and the way she avoids the subject and fights against unshed tears speaks volumes.

He feels the familiar burn of anger in him, the one he's been desperately trying to control for what seems like forever. Anger towards everything and everyone that led Historia to this situation, practically forcing her to agree to the infamous plan others made for her and using her in such a way only to satisfy a certain monkey's wish about Titan Powers and royal blood.

Did these plans somehow contribute to everything that happened in Marley? Did the first planning of a few years ago create a chain reaction that caused the battle in Liberio…and resulted to a tragedy no one can recover from?

Jean frantically shakes his head in an attempt to block out these thoughts. He can't allow them to fester, otherwise they'll overwhelm him and eventually destroy him and he can't afford that. Especially not now, with so many open cases. With mourning comrades he needs to comfort, with two Marley kids taken prisoners and with Eren and Zeke purposefully separated until their plan becomes clearer, the last thing he needs is an emotional breakdown. He's Commanding Officer of the Scout Regiment and right now he must appear as composed and practical, not as someone who's on the verge of completely panicking.

"Of course I'll tell them. You stay safe, alright?" He therefore responds to Historia's statement and slightly bows at her. Everyone in the squad treats her with the honor and respect she has earned as Queen, despite her declarations that they're still her friends and don't need to be so formal with her. Still, they do it genuinely to show her how much they appreciate everything she has done during the four years of her reign…and how bad they feel for her current situation, like a hidden guilt towards her no one dares to openly express.

But as he looks at her now as he saddles his horse and gets ready to take his leave, he notices something on her he hasn't noticed before. There's something odd on her, something darker and deeper than her grief for Sasha or her physical and mental exhaustion…like a strange, raw maturity…as if her whole world has been overthrown. The way she barely looks at him, the way she talks to him…it's like right now it's up to him to fix whatever brought her in this state.

Nonsense, Jean, she's probably overwhelmed by everything that's happened. Don't reflect your own state on her, he mentally says and shakes his head one more time to get a grip on himself. Things are dark enough as they are, he can't get paranoid or make invalid assumptions. It's not what…what Sasha would want for you either, he concludes and takes a deep breath, repeating the words he's been telling himself ever since their return from Marley.

"I'll try to convince the others from the main squad to come too next time, alright?" The young man promises and climbs up the stairs leading to the porch to properly say goodbye. "It will do them good to see you and to stay for a few days in the countryside after…after everything."

At that moment, Friedrich joins them, approaching them with a discrete smile as he exits the house and wanting to give the two friends enough space and time to farewell each other. During these past months, Jean and the rest of the Survey Corps had the chance to properly meet the man Historia chose to be her child's father and, although everything was awkward at first given the circumstances, they quickly learned to be comfortable in his presence. What played a major role in that, Jean thinks now as he nods politely towards him, was the fact that Friedrich never used his position and his acquaintance with the Scouts for his own purposes; quite the contrary, he seems to have taken the task to protect Historia and the baby really seriously.

"Thanks again for the hospitality, Friedrich. I know you're really fed up with us visiting every now and then," Jean makes an attempt to joke and tries to laugh, although only a bitter sound escapes his lips, as if he's forgotten how to laugh altogether.

"Don't worry about it, Jean, I understand that the times are difficult and you need the Queen's advice." The other man nods and shakes the Commanding Officer's hand before giving him a compassionate pat on the shoulder. "And I know it's the last thing you want to hear, but I am honestly sorry for your loss. I didn't know Scout Blouse very well, but she was a remarkable person."

More condolences…as if we haven't heard enough of those, Jean thinks and sighs, even though he tries not to show anything in front of the other two. Condolences and words of comfort don't mean anything; not to him, not to Connie, not to Sasha's parents, not to anyone…they won't bring the Potato Girl back and sometimes hypocrisy and ulterior motives hide behind pretty words. Well, at least Friedrich's condolences are honest, not like those of the well-wishers in Wall Sina.

"She was…thank you." He therefore replies, amber eyes travelling from Friedrich to Historia and vice versa. "Take care of yourselves, you two…we will be in touch."

"Jean, wait! Before you go…there's something I need to tell you!" Historia exclaims and grabs the sleeve of Jean's shirt, making him leave a startled gasp since she rarely speaks and moves so urgently, as if she wants to talk to him about a life-or-death matter. "You have to stay strong. You hear me? You have to trust your instincts and stay strong for everything that will follow. Only you can give an answer to all this."

"H-Huh? What do you mean I can give an answer to everything that's to follow?" Jean's eyes widen as he stares at her as if he seriously doubts her mental state. He throws a confused look towards Friedrich, but he only returns sadly the gaze, as if this is something only the Queen needs to tell him."Last time I checked, Historia, the suicidal bastard is considered Humanity's Last Hope to all this mess, everything is a result of his and Zeke's plan, what sort of answers can I give?"

"Just listen to what I say, alright? You are the key to all this. Stay strong, trust your instincts and rely on your memories to approach the matter!" Historia raises her voice slightly, although she quiets immediately and breathes calmly, thinking that stress and loud voices aren't doing any good to her unborn child. "In the end, the memories are what truly matters."

The ride to the new Headquarters from Historia's new residence normally lasts three weeks, yet Jean pressures his stallion to gallop as fast as it can. With so many things that are open for the Recon Corps and with everyone being so confused and uncertain about the future, he prefers to be back to his comrades as soon as possible to assist with all his strength in this difficult situation. Besides, the quick journey will surely do him good…it will distract him from all negative thoughts, the grief and the anger that have begun to get worse and worse.

"Jean, this is destroying you, you know that? With everything that's happening you haven't had the time to mourn for her properly and sooner or later this will break you." Armin had told him the day he left for the countryside of Mitras to visit Historia with a worried glance, but Jean had dismissed the matter and said goodbye to his friend with perfect self-control, despite knowing that the smart blond was telling the truth.

And then there are these mysterious words… The young Commanding Officer contemplates now as he covers the last part of his travel, one week after he left the Queen and her companion; he can already feel the salty smell of the ocean breeze and see the first tents of their camp at the hills, the docks, the few ships at the Scouts' harbor and the impressive building that hosts the main dormitories, the library, the laboratory, the council rooms and the other offices of the elite squad. But today he doesn't admire the team's achievements or the beauty of the place; he has way more serious things in mind and Historia's words before his departure don't leave him alone.

It's not just her words, though, Jean thinks; after all, he could easily explain them in light of the recent events…like a friend's warning to another. Still, his gut tells him there's something else behind the statement that he will be the key to everything and that he has to stay strong…he doesn't know what exactly, but it has to do with Historia's general appearance and behavior…that dark maturity and persistence of hers to pass her message to him.

And what the hell did she mean with 'memories are all that matters'? Comes the next question and now Jean's eyes are narrowed in concentration and he almost doesn't pay attention to the road anymore. Surely he has developed severe trust issues after all the tragedies and the betrayals, but there are certain people he'll trust with literally anything, including his own life. Historia's comment, though, is as if it's implying that a shocking discovery is awaiting him…so shocking that his trust towards something or someone specific and unexpected will shatter and he'll have to recall his memories with them to face it with composure.

You really found the time to act all mysterious, Historia.

He briefly closes his eyes when he ends up at the docks and dismounts his horse before bringing it to the stables. No matter what has happened, no matter his mind that's unable to rest, he's finally surrounded from a familiar environment, near the ocean. It's where his friends of seven years are as well, his comrades who have fought by his sight, his Commander and his Captain…even the ones who have passed away and whom he can't let go, even they are resting here.

"Welcome back, Commanding Officer." He is greeted by Floch after he tends to his horse and exits the stables and he sighs at the sight of the slightly ironic smirk that marks his comrade's face as he mentions his title. Floch has always been strong-headed and repulsive in his opinions and decisions, but the way he speaks in favor of Eren eliminating all Marleyans and of a new Eldian Empire that will crush its enemies has started to really trouble and worry him.

As if killing Gabi and Falco will stop everything, Jean thinks, recalling the numerous arguments they've had on that matter…an opinion he knows is shared by a great number of Scouts and almost the entire Military Police.

"Hello, Floch, good to be back." He greets the auburn-haired Scout as politely as he can, trying to keep the spirits calm; nervousness isn't helping anyone and yet it's the prevailing emotion between his allies these days. "Did anything urgent happen while I was away?"

"No, just that Zeke has been officially transported to a different hideout so he and Eren can be interrogated safely…apparently our Commander is still cautious about their plan; I've left the reports in your office. And Hanji-san also wanted to know whether you'd want to question Eren yourself sometime."

Jean smiles at these words, grateful at Hanji, who thought that he might want to listen to Eren's story, considering he's the first who blamed the Titan Shifter for Sasha's death. Truth is, though, he doesn't think he's strong enough to endure this process…he's barely holding on anyway and he believes that the sight of the imprisoned suicidal maniac will only trigger the anger he's trying so hard to suppress.

"No, it's…fine for the moment. I'll go check your reports, though, to see if we learned something important."

"Oh, before I forget it, Jean, there's a box in your office. It was already there when I left the reports for you, but I don't know who sent it." Floch informs him before he can enter the Headquarters and Jean turns perplexed towards him; he's familiar with anonymous letters, but this feels like something completely different.

"I swear, if it's one of the Military Police's usual threatening messages again…" He furiously mumbles; it seems that the MPs particularly enjoy sending warnings and threats to the Scouts about the current situation, telling them to hand them over Gabi and Falco for execution and taking the chance now that Historia's less active due to her pregnancy. "Floch, have you seen Connie and Armin?" He wants to know, intending to study the reports and whatever the mysterious box has and then discuss it with his two friends, who will surely give him helpful clues about what it could mean.

"Armin is with Commander Hanji right now, I think they want to examine the abilities of the War Hammer Titan. And Connie…Connie's at the graveyard."

Of course he is, Jean sighs as he walks across the corridor that leads to his office. Connie spends most of his time in front of Sasha's grave, sometimes with him, sometimes with Mikasa and sometimes all alone, talking to their deceased friend. It's not that Jean blames him, of course he doesn't, a month has passed and yet the wound doesn't close. It's like Sasha's still here somehow, with all of them, and no one, not even the tough and supposedly emotionless Mikasa is able to let her go. Just like you always said, Potato Girl, you left an impact on the world in your own way, he thinks bitterly and closes the heavy wooden door of his office behind him.

The box is the first thing his eyes fall on; in the middle of his desk, just like Floch said. It's made of simple wood, with no decorations on it like he would expect from the wealthy Military Police of Wall Sina. It doesn't seem very old, as if it was recently bought, and yet it looks quite used already…like it was in the possession of various owners before landing to him. Jean carefully lifts it in his hands and leaves a startled gasp at its weight…what the hell is in there? The oddest thing, though, is the sound he hears as he lightly shakes it…soft rustling, the same sound his parchments make when he reads through them.

Papers? Secret reports…what on earth…?

With curiosity and agitation alike, he hesitantly opens it and stares at the stack on envelopes that are stuck in there. Jean carefully takes them out of the box and places them in front of him: the first one has the number 1 written in the middle with black ink…the number written messily, as if the person who wrote it had shaky hands at the moment. He goes through all envelopes and notices that there's thirteen of them, each with a black number in the middle.

Thirteen messages and with numbers? Was it so important for the sender to be read in this specific order? Jean wonders, but then another thought comes in mind as he remembers his earlier observations, about the box looking new and yet used, as if it had multiple owners. How am I so sure that the sender sent it immediately and that it wasn't one of the previous owners?

Cold shudders run through his spine, his previous suspicions about Military Police threats completely abandoned. Right now he doesn't even know what to think…it's like his mind is completely blank, unable to form a single guess about what the hell is happening. Even the atmosphere in his office has changed…it's like the sense of some dark mystery has filled the room, the feeling of upcoming changes…and then comes the next question.

Did Historia's warning have something to do with this damn box?

"Only one way to find out, Kirstein." He states aloud as if attempting to encourage himself. With a determined move he opens the envelope with the number 1 and takes the two parchments it had.

He recognizes the messy handwriting immediately. Only one person he knew had this trademark way of writing, slightly shaky, trying to make it appear as neat…exactly like she used to change her accent to sound more polite. How many times had he reprimanded her for her handwriting, angrily at first and then teasingly, ruffling her hair whenever she told him that some things couldn't change. And now here he is, about to read a letter—a series of letters—that bear Sasha's very own handwriting.

It can't be, is his first thought, clearly believing he's going crazy. It simply can't. Sasha's gone and now I'm receiving some letters she wrote?

He raises his head from the letter, as if he expects to see her across from him, laughing like she always did when she pulled a successful prank. He pretty much expects everything right now, as the initial denial comes back to bite at him…like he wants to convince himself that Sasha's alive.

No! No, no and no, don't even go there! It's bad enough as it is, such thoughts don't help!

He knows what he has to do. Hell, he knows that the answer to his questions is in the thirteen envelopes in front of him, although he can't predict what he's about to read…some last sweet and funny words Potato Girl wrote to her friends? Or maybe some discoveries she had made that will help the regiment? In any case, it has no sense delaying the inevitable and so he breathes deeply to gain courage and begins.

Hi, there. Yes, it's me. Truly me. Alexandra Blouse, better known as Sasha. Scout, former spy, troublemaker, glutton, prankster…you get the concept. Truly, I could just go on and the list would never end. As all of you have surely experienced, people love placing labels on each other, whether they respond to reality or not.

Yes, that does sound like Sasha…a meaningful opinion relayed through a humorous comment about her own labels. It's almost like he's been transported in another time, in a different world, reading letters written by someone who was killed a month ago and whose death he still hasn't accepted. He looks at these first sentences, at Sasha's full name and he can't help but smile…she never mentioned that her name was actually Alexandra…everyone knew and knows her as Sasha, just like that, simply and naturally.

But then he notices a specific phrase and stares confused at it for several moments…former spy? Now what's that supposed to mean? Of course, the instincts Sasha had trained as a huntress were extraordinary and had helped them countless times, but Jean can't remember some spying mission the Scouts had sent her to. So what exactly is behind this? Had the regiment ever sent Sasha somewhere as a spy without the squad knowing it?

But that can't be, Sasha was always with us during the missions…and she was never away from us for a long time to be considered an undercover spy…Sasha, girl, what on earth is this?

He knows that it's way too early to make any sorts of speculations; the letters are thirteen after all and surely Sasha gives some explanations later. So he shakes his head to clear his mind and then resumes reading, now truly fearing what he will learn.

And before you burn this letter, tear it to pieces, start yelling and asking for help, thinking that you've gone crazy, let's make this clear from the start. It's me. Really me. And no matter how much you wish to ignore me, this time I'm not gonna let you to.

Sorry, that came out way angrier than I intended to.

But if you read this letter, it means I'm dead. I'm no longer amongst you. To those who cared, I'm really sorry for that. I wish things were different, but they're not and I can't sugarcoat it for you. To those who didn't give a damn about me, well, you'll have to endure me now.

Because if you read this letter, this series of letters, it means you're one of the reasons why I betrayed Marley.

"What?" Jean exclaims and the letter falls from his hands as he jumps on his feet, cold sweat running down his face. "Wait a minute…what? What the freaking hell…in order to betray Marley, it means…"

Right now he can't even process the previous paragraphs, he only keeps repeating this last sentence, both aloud and mentally, as if saying it again and again will make him believe it. He's sweating and shivering at the same time, he feels like he's going to faint at any moment and he's overwhelmed by so many emotions he can't even define them…right now only questions and assumptions exist, one more farfetched than the other.

Sasha…Potato Girl…you were…you were from Marley?! B-But…But…how? How on earth is that possible? What about all these stories from Dauper…your way of speaking…how you stuck to your hunting tradition..? Was it all…was it all made up? He just can't stop his trail of thoughts and he has the impression that he has returned to that day four years ago…the day he discovered Reiner and Bertholdt's true identities.

No, no, no, absolutely not! You won't go there, Kirstein! No. Way! Keep reading, there's got to be some other explanation. She writes she betrayed Marley…and that this series of letters is…her reasons why? And…wait a minute, I am one of them?

"If you read this letter, it means I'm dead." Jean picks up the letter again and reads aloud that specific sentence, as if thinking that he'll solve the mystery that way…and the confusion is immediately replaced by the usual sadness and guilt before he rubs his chin. "She knew this would happen to her? She knew or suspected she would die?"

The words Sasha chose are raw, cold, without any attempt to console the reader. Like a calm acceptance of her upcoming fate…like she had made peace with that when she wrote this letter. Like something had happened to her that caused this reaction from her…that made her realize that this would befall her.

Oh, I can imagine your reactions right now, your priceless expressions, and I can't help but laugh as I write this. Didn't expect that? Too bad for you. Because this isn't some joke coming from the goofy Potato Girl. Not this time.

The rules are very simple.

Rule Number One: Read these letters alone. And I mean it. A-l-o-n-e! Got it? This isn't something you can handle while in the presence of other people who'll influence you towards some decision or other. You can do whatever you want after you've finished, but while reading make sure you're alone.

Rule Number Two: Pass the message. Or the torch, like a dear friend of mine used to say. You'll understand who you have to send this envelope to next, you're not stupid. Even a certain idiotic suicidal bastard can figure it out. But that's a story for another letter. Point is, you need to pass the letters to the next receiver. And with the way technology has proceeded, it won't be difficult for you to find the person who's next and send this envelope to them.

Well, at least this confirms Jean's suspicions that this box had other owners before reaching him. Apparently Sasha had specific people in mind when she started writing the letters…maybe even a specific order, he can't tell. And judging from the clear imply, it seems that Eren is one of them…although he can't imagine how the hell he could contribute to Sasha's decision.

Historia is one of the receivers too! He concludes; at the moment it's the only possible explanation for her odd behavior when he saw her and how she looked like a great overthrow had occurred for her. Given what he's reading right now, it totally interprets why she kept telling him that he needs to keep a clear head for everything that's to follow; she'd already received the box…and just as he thinks that, the next speculation is shaped in his mind at the next second.

How the hell will we know who is the next receiver? Sasha says it's really simple…maybe it will become more obvious the more we read?

His head is spinning and he falls heavily back on his seat, like his feet can't hold him anymore. He doesn't understand anything and, no matter how hard he tries to understand the details and deeper meaning in Sasha's words, that revelation has caught him completely off guard and it's like he can't pay attention to anything else. Sasha…their Potato Girl…the one who encouraged and teased everyone and was the light of the Scout Regiment in this messed up world…hailing from Marley…betraying Marley…and leaving behind thirteen letters where she explains her reasons. It's unnerving, it's confusing, it's…it's like it's happening to someone else, not him.

But he needs to continue and he knows that. He can't let go of the letters, dispose them or even figure out who the next receiver is and send the box to them. Now that he's made the start, he can't simply forget what he has read and learnt, not without going crazy. He has to see it through, to the last letter, place the pieces together and hopefully answer the countless doubts and questions that torture him.

Need to…well, technically speaking, you needn't do anything. You can burn the letters anyway, dismiss them as a game, hide them and pretend you never read them. After all, why follow a dead girl's rules, right?

I dare you to. Seriously, I dare you to. But don't blame me when you spend the rest of your lives wondering about what could have happened if you had followed a different path in this story.

Like I said, you're not gonna get rid of me so easily, people.

"Oh, Sasha, how well you know people." The young man laughs involuntary…Because she truly had predicted how her receivers would react if they put the letters away. And the way she writes…it has that humorous tone Sasha always had, but there's something else in this statement that she won't allow anyone to forget her so easily. There's something sardonic, dark and sly in this sentence…something like her Marleyan side coming to surface.

And only then does Jean realize the double tragic irony of what he said aloud. Not only did he speak fondly of Sasha, like he completely forgot the revelation about her origins, but he also referred to her in the present tense.

"Well, Sasha…you said we won't get rid of you…but that's not the case anyway…no one has gotten rid of you. But all these secrets and the mystery…" He doesn't finish his thought, choosing to proceed with the letter instead. Everything is a mess anyway and right now he doesn't understand anything…at least he can read with the hope to understand more.

But enough with the intro. Go somewhere quiet where you can be alone without anyone interrupting you. Take a snack; an omelet preferably or a potato; potatoes can be cooked in so many ways and are excellent snacks. And then relax…while you can.

"Of course, mentioning the damn cook-off after you throw a bomb that would probably destroy Wall Maria. That sounds more like the Sasha I knew and not like the one who would keep her past hidden from those who cared about her."

The best way to start a story is at its beginning. And since you're about to learn how exactly I ended up with Marley and how exactly I ended up betraying them, I owe you my own beginning.

Literally.

You're about to read about my beginning in this world.

Mom, Dad, this letter, the first of many, is for you.

The beginning is quite common for the people of Marley, right? A weak and fragile girl born in the secluded zones of Liberio that were destined for us inferior Eldian people, eh? Another spawn of the devil, another one who would carry the sins of the past. You kept telling me about the difficulties Mom went through to give birth to me and how I was a squealing baby that got on your nerves for the first months.

But since you brought me into the world after so many hardships, why did you consider me responsible for it? You used to tell me how this was only another proof of how worthless we Eldians are and how I had to try even harder to prove myself and rise above that weakness the descendants of the First Titan Ymir were cursed with.

Anyway, my point is not to accuse you; after all, I never complained. I only trained harder, tried to excel in every single exercise Dad gave me, to become a fierce fighter, combative and dutiful. I thought that's what I should do, that this was my task, since I was of Eldian birth. I never questioned it, I didn't dare question it, it hadn't even occurred as a thought.

"Sasha was a part of the Marley military! One of the countless Eldian children they recruited for their missions, just like we read in Grisha Jaeger's diaries." Jean states, now so absorbed in what he's reading that he's temporarily set aside the shock of the revelation, focusing on Sasha's descriptions about how her parents prepared her for her official training. And once again the memories invade his mind, as if they're taunting him, not allowing him to fully process everything he's learning.

Sasha never talked much about her family, she talked more about Dauper and the woods that secluded her village from the rest of the world. The only things she had told him about her parents was how her father tutored her in archery and pressured her to contribute to their small community and how her mother taught her to cook and help around the house. And now her back story comes to light…how her Eldian parents were both harsh on her training so she would prove her skills to the Marley forces.

Just like my father did with me before I joined the Cadet Corps, Jean thinks and then gasps at the realization that he compares his past to Sasha's without taking her true origins into account…as if they're same although they hail from so different backgrounds.

"Damn it, Sasha, as if you leaving us isn't enough, you just had to throw the bomb about you being from Marley, huh?" He groans with frustration, unable to deal with this mess and, simultaneously, unable to stop himself from reading further.

And then came the day I left our house to join the Marleyan military. It was another beginning for me, a beginning in a series of all sorts of harsh training, mind tests, exposure and psychological blackmail that would decide which position I would be granted in Marley's forces. Was I capable enough to be granted the greatest honor, to become a Warrior Cadet with the potential to be a Titan Shifter in the future? Or wasn't I good enough and I had to serve the mother nation in another way?

On that day, Mom and Dad, I saw you like I hadn't seen you before. I was only eight years old and instead of the demanding parents who had raised me you were more loving, desperate and kind than you ever were to me.

Mom, do you remember how you knelt down to be of equal height with me and hugged me so tightly that I thought I'd stop breathing for a second? You were crying so much that you startled me; after all, I had never seen you cry before, in fact, it was you who always told me that I shouldn't cry because tears are a weakness and make you vulnerable. And yet on that day you cried without stopping, caressed my hair and apologized for oppressing me so much, for forcing me to train so hard and for 'taking my childhood away'. I smiled and hugged you back, you remember? Told you it was okay, that I wasn't angry and that I'd make you proud. You replied you were already so proud of me…it was the first time you said that and I think it was the happiest moment in my short life.

As for you, Dad, you were more composed than Mom, but you looked equally guilty. You patted my head and told me I had become everything you hoped for and that I shouldn't change who I was for anyone. That I should stay myself no matter what and that you would always love and support me.

And despite the fact that I didn't really know what my true self was like back then, I left with your love in my memory and both of your words in my mind. And every time I doubted my decisions from that point forward, your advice echoed in my head to lead and help me.

These words were the beginning of my story as I started my life as a part of Marley's military and then as a cadet in Paradis.

These words were basically the beginning of everything.

Because I wouldn't let anyone break my spirit and shape me into someone I wasn't. I wouldn't allow anyone to force me to betray and murder people I lived with for so many years.

Which is why I communicated with you three years ago, when the special communication devices were invented in Paradis. It was a chance for me to tell you everything and to explain why I did what I did…especially since all these years I feared how you were treated in Marley. You had become the traitor's parents and I was terrified that you were forced to pay the consequences of my choice.

But, for one more time, both of you surprised me. Instead of hatred or rage, your answer was filled with pride, love and compassion. You told me there was nothing to forgive and that I had made you proud because I had made my own choice and stayed true to it no matter the obstacles. Mom, you said that you hoped I "used the skills I had been taught for a better purpose". And Dad, you added that "our family did its duty to Marley for years without being acknowledged. It's time for a member of the Blouse family to do her duty to herself."

I only hope that, when the letters reach your hands, you'll be proud of me as well.

Jean sighs as he reaches the end of the first letter and puts it back in its envelope, now with more questions than before. Sasha has really focused on explaining how the receivers of the letters helped her take the decision to betray Marley despite whatever mission her superiors had assigned her, but now it seems that she was already thinking about it from her eight years. She sounded determined to stay herself and not harm anyone if she could…but if she truly resisted against them, how the hell did she end up being their spy? After all, Jean knows too well what Marley does to those who oppose them…so how exactly did Sasha convince them to send her to Paradis, when even her parents had shown regret for oppressing her so much and stayed by her side when she told them everything?

In a sudden, Jean recalls another memory from the recent past…a memory he wishes he could bury, but a memory that seems to answer one of his many questions.

Blood, screams, gunshots…a mess surrounding the Survey Corps airship, like a grotesque scene from one of the scary stories Connie loves to narrate.

Sasha's lying in the middle, covered in her own blood after that brat shot her…it happened so fast no one could react on time and now she's slowly fading away right in front of Jean and Connie, who watch her with expressions of pure shock and horror, her matted hair creating a halo around her face…struggling with her words, but unnaturally calm.

"Guys, please…a box…in my backpack…"

"Shhh, don't talk, Sasha, don't talk, just hold on until we get home and cure you, okay?" Connie pleads her, his voice having a whispery tone, his words a rambling he can't control as he sees his closest friend slipping away from them.

"Please! Please, bring it here…it's…it's important…"

"Okay. Okay, I'll bring it." Jean nods and rushes to fetch the box she mentioned, seeing how desperate she is to tell them something about it. It's a heavy box made of wood, with a small piece of paper attached to it, and he notices how Sasha's expression relaxes immediately, a smile appearing on her pale face at its sight.

"Listen…" she breathes out and it's obvious to everyone how difficult it is for her to speak right now, "when you guys get back…send it to the address…I've written it on the cover…"

"No, no, no, Sasha, you can send it yourself, you hear me, you're gonna be just fine." Connie rambles again and now Jean hurts for both him and for Sasha as he sits there, completely useless, unable to comfort either of them.

He hadn't paid attention back then, lost as he was in his grief for Sasha's death and his anger towards Eren, Zeke and the two kids. Since Connie wasn't in the position to do anything, he had fulfilled Sasha's wish right after the funeral; he had sent the box to the written address, without even questioning the fact that it was a Marley one. Now, though, as he looks at the thirteen envelopes again, he has no doubt that this is the box of that day…the box Sasha spent her last breaths to talk to them about.

The chain started that day…Sasha pleaded us to send the box somewhere in Marley…possibly even to her parents, since the first letter is for them, Jean concludes—and just like that, another guess comes in mind. The order we need to follow to send the letters…is it the order the letters were written?

A/N: Soo, my friends, that was it for now! I hope you enjoyed the chapter, I'd love to read your opinions about it ;) I'll probably post the next chapter next Sunday :D