A/N: Okay, first of all, I am so sorry for delaying this chapter so much! It wasn't out of writer's block this time, but because it was one of the most emotionally difficult chapters for me to write EVER! :P Second of all, I have no idea how I managed to end up with a chapter of ten thousand words, so I hope you put up with me and enjoy the chapter :) Third and most important, I really, really hope you guys are all safe and healthy and that you found creative ways to pass time during the quarantine.

As always, here is a list of the letters we have currently read as a reminder:

Letter One: Sasha's parents

Letter Two: Falco

Letter Three: Zeke

Letter Four: Historia

Letter Five: Ymir

Letter Six: Hanji

Letter Seven: Levi

Letter Eight: Eren

Letter Nine: Reiner

Letter Ten: Mikasa

ResistingFate: Thank you so much, I always enjoy reading your reviews on every individual chapter :) Isayama definitely went from mellow to intense in a few chapters' time, Chapters 125, 126 and 127 easily became my favorite chapters of the last arc, and Chapter 128 was INSANE! :D Oh, Nicolo definitely needs lots of pep talks, and I feel very sorry for Kaya, at least she has found a friend in the manga. I figured to put her in Historia's orphanage in this fic, since Sasha's parents are in Marley. Hope you enjoy the new chapter too! :)

pinkpaladin: Awwww, thank you soooo much! Yep, we've reached the crucial letter ;) I really hope you will like this one too.

RandomGuestHere: Thank you so much for your review, I'm glad you enjoy the story and thank you for saying you like my writing :) I'm afraid we won't learn yet what the key is about, but we'll get there ;)

This fanfic contains SPOILERS about the Marley arc of the Attack on Titan manga, so be warned. Also, I have to warn you for major, MAJOR FEELS!

Disclaimer: I do not own the Attack on Titan universe or the 13 Reasons Why series, which inspired this story.

Hanji Zoe has seen countless panicked people in her years as member of the Survey Corps, especially after becoming Squad Leader and even more so after becoming the Commander. She has seen experienced soldiers, with amazing records in fighting and killing Titans, losing their composure and burst out crying at the sight of dead comrades and friends.

She has seen Squad Leaders with remarkable leading qualities losing all hope and throwing screaming fits at their closest assistants, considering themselves useless and inadequate to help the regiment and humanity in finding out anything more about Titans.

She has seen generations of new recruits, with determined gleams in their eyes, and yet so fearful, especially during their first day. She has seen their friends holding them during their panic attacks, unable to offer any words of consolation, as they confront the overwhelming terror of perishing not too long after their enlistment in the Scout Regiment.

She has seen hundreds, thousands of bystanders as she passed them by after returning from an expedition. She has witnessed the grief of so many parents, spouses, siblings, sons and daughters, friends, who cried over their loved ones that died in battle. She has heard their accusations, that the Scouts are nothing more than a bunch of reckless tax-wasters who lead huge numbers of good people to their deaths in a pointless fight against the Titans.

And yet now, at this moment, after helping Jean to a seat and sitting down behind her desk, while closely watching her younger subordinate, she feels that his panic, she can not handle, mostly because she knows there is nothing she can do or say that will alleviate the young man's anguish. Since he has reached his letter, Hanji knows that the only thing she and Levi can do is listen to his trail of thoughts as he reads and guide him through the turmoil of emotions he will definitely go through after he is finished. Because right now he is not the Commanding Officer who leads everyone effectively and strategically…he is not even a soldier. Right now he is only a boy; a vulnerable and confused boy who has lost someone very important to him and is about to learn just what he meant to her as well.

And beside the emotional part, which is surely the hardest, there is also the practical matter of the brass key Jean's envelope includes, the key he now holds in his hands, examining it from all sides as if it can give him some answers before he starts with his letter. The key that has travelled from one receiver to the other, changing ten different hands, only to land to its rightful owner, the one who will decide the outcome of everything even if he has no idea what assignment Sasha gave him before her death. The very root behind Zeke's restlessness and his urgent message, according to Levi, that Jean needs to be under close supervision so he won't interfere with the Beast Titan's own plan.

"Jean…" Hanji whispers gently, so she won't startle him further, but still making it clear that he needs to proceed. It's late at night and they won't be disturbed, but with their opponents moving so fast, it would help all of them, and Jean himself even more, if he starts reading as soon as possible. "We are here." She states, pointing between her and Levi, whose steel gaze is focused on the boy, his expression combining impatience and concern.

We are here…for some reason, that's only scaring me more. If Sasha claims I am noble, like Eren says…and if this key is why everyone believes I need to understand…is this the reason they told me to come here? Or has it to do with everything I'll read?

God, I was disappointed when the sixth letter turned out to be Hanji's and not mine…and now that I have my letter in my hands…I can't even read it.

Jean can't even notice his surroundings right now. The thick curtains that prevent the moonlight from entering the spacious room that is the Commander's office, the shelves with the books, maps and parchments, the wooden floor that's creaking slightly under his feet, the feeling of the cold metal in his hands, the key that made him realize that the time for his letter has come…all this is insignificant, mundane, almost an illusion given the fog that's clouding his mind at this precise moment. Hell, he can't even acknowledge his superiors' presence at his side; Levi's silent and concerned impatience or Hanji's worried compassion don't do anything to ease his troubled thoughts.

Sasha's voice is quiet in his head, no snarky comments or gentle advice echoing in his mind. It's like something in his subconscious has suppressed this voice because of his letter, as he has no doubt that he'll be flooded with memories about the lost Potato Girl while reading about his role in her plan.

He wonders…will she explain to him why everyone depends on his decisions so much? Would she take the risk so bluntly, since this letter has been already read by Zeke and Eren? Judging from the key in his hand, there are still mysteries he needs to unfold, and Sasha, who concealed Mikasa's origins and Historia's pregnancy, surely was smart enough not to reveal his own role in a direct way.

But he also wonders what memories of him she will share…which of their interactions all these seven years inspired her to include him in her list and trust him with this unknown burden.

That stormy day at the ocean…The sign that should ring him a bell, yet a sign he ignored back then.

"Jean…" Hanji's soothing voice barely reaches him through the fog, yet it does the job for now; an assurance and, at the same time, a kind urgency that makes him nod, leave the key aside and open the envelope with trembling hands. A deep breath; a mental order to himself to stop acting like a coward and proceed…and he starts reading, now aware of the others' persistent gazes towards him, ready to face his reactions.

There's a saying the older women mentioned in my neighborhood in Liberio. That love goes through the stomach and that the best way to someone's heart is through good food.

I'm not sure if love goes through the stomach (although I wouldn't say no to good food), but I know for sure that a strong connection between two people can be established through something as innocent and playful as a cook-off.

"The cook-off? Out of all possible ways to start she chose to mention the cook-off?" Jean exclaims and, compared to the emotional mess he's dealing with inside, the loud tone of his voice surprises even him.

"You know, Jean, word about this cooking competition spread rapidly back then." Hanji tells him, her tone maintaining its previous calmness, but the woman believes that adding her own perspective will help Jean and maybe cease the tempest that's going on in his mind.

"That drunk old fool, Pixis, settling a childish bickering through cooking." Levi shakes his head, as if he still can't comprehend how the leader of the Garrisons acted. "And Erwin, Mike, Eld and Gunther had the nerve to say they'd pay good money to see his antics personally."

"To be honest, I would too, Levi."

"You don't count, Four-Eyes, you're insane as it is!"

The banter between Captain and Commander brings a small smile on Jean's face; at least these two haven't abandoned their usual ways of communication even if they're way more serious this period of time. But Levi's words makes him return to that afternoon…and yes, their behavior was quite childish, him blaming Sasha and Connie for taking down his targets and him also wanting to hit—actually freaking hit—the Potato Girl. Not to mention how they had turned a cook-off into a personal challenge...both of them wanting to prove a point to the other.

And yet Sasha starts her letter towards him quite fondly, even mentioning the old saying about how love goes through the stomach; Jean even asks himself if it's deliberate, given how often he joked about her love for food. She even describes the cook-off as 'innocent' and 'playful', not as 'immature' or 'idiotic'…stating that it was the chance for a connection to be established between them.

If he had any doubts that this is his letter, this introduction diminishes all of them.

Was this competition—a competition he himself recalls with fondness now—really the opportunity he and Sasha needed to stop their constant insults towards each other and start a healthier and more productive friendship?

Was this what started it all?

The reconciliation, the jokes, the quiet and meaningful conversations? The deeper feelings which he can't even place at a specific moment…were they a result of building up that started the moment they shook hands?

Well, it's time for me to give you the explanations you deserve. The explanations I wish I had the courage to give you face-to-face. It's time to tell you how important you are in my story. And I'll do it in this letter, which is all for you…Jean Kirstein.

"If only. If only she had talked to me face-to-face. If only…"

"What would you have done then?" Levi interrupts with an irritated voice, making Jean divert his eyes from the letter and focus them on the other man. "Would you have accepted it so easily? Would you have accepted her secrecy, her true past, the lies she was forced to tell to conceal everything?"

"Levi! None of us know how we would have reacted under different circumstances." It's something similar to what Hanji asked Jean after he read Zeke's letter, about whether the true source of his anger was Sasha's past or the fact that she didn't open up to him about it.

The female Commander can't help but compare it to Reiner and Bertholdt: the initial denial of the former members of the 104th when they started suspecting the truth, the following horror as they fought against them, their tears during the battle of Shiganshina, the accepting of Reiner being imprisoned instead of taken down, and the silent agreement that, no matter what has transpired, they used to be comrades and friends.

She has reached the conclusion that one of the reasons behind Sasha's secrecy was the fact that no one would believe her; at least not before the exploration of the Jaeger basement and the discovery of the truth that altered everything, the truth about the nation across the ocean. And even if Sasha had opened up, with the way things work in the military and the secret alliances, Hanji doubts she would have been allowed to continue with her plan. Sasha would be likely thrown into a dungeon, she would be trialed, and any plan she had in mind, anything she has entrusted Jean with, would likely never see the light.

How important you are in my story…Jean meanwhile rereads this particular sentence, trying to imagine what Sasha means. Is she referring only to whatever she has assigned him? Or, which is more likely and more terrifying, to the importance he had in her general story, in her life here in Paradis and everything they shared together for almost a decade? He treated her so badly at the beginning, he's genuinely ashamed of how he treated her, but Connie assuring him that she never held a grudge for this has made something click in him…something that worsens the tremble of his hands and makes heat rise to his face.

Not to mention the way she addresses him: it doesn't have the disdain Sasha had in Zeke's letter or the angry warnings she included in Eren's one…her words hold tenderness and something bittersweet, almost as if she feels sorry that he has to go through this.

"Jean?"

"I'm okay. I'm okay, Commander. I can go on."

For three years in the Cadet Corps I watched you being determined to excel in everything. Constantly angry or broody, snapping at everyone, especially a certain suicidal maniac (not that I blame you for that). We loved challenging each other, never letting the other's words without reply; you would call me names, insult my abilities as a soldier and yell at me for my constant hunger, while I would scold you for your rude behavior. All this gave me a sense of normalcy without the threat of Marley in my head…yet normalcy not in a content way like the girls did, but rather in a refreshing way that made me combative, taking your insults into consideration and turning them into a motive to be a better soldier.

So when I lost that cooking challenge and I fell on the ground sobbing, crying not only for the competition but also for the end of a playful moment I had, I expected you to boast for your victory and rub it in my face. But instead, you took my hand, smiled at me and gave me the most fitting consolation you could give me at this moment.

"Fitting? I thought it was fitting too, but whenever I remembered it afterwards, I thought it was ridiculous!"

"What did you tell her, Jean?" Hanji wants to know, interested curiosity coloring her words, although her smile is genuine as she sees the formerly bitter and suspicious Jean losing himself in memories that are clearly pleasant for him.

"And don't worry, the entire situation was ridiculous, how much worse could you have made it?" Levi retorts while rolling his eyes, almost as if he sees the arrogant fifteen-year-old bastard Jean used to be and not the nineteen-year-old man who is barely holding it together as he allows the memory of that night to overwhelm him…as he shares it with the two people in this room.

Jean has won the cooking competition, Pixis declaring him the winner thanks to his mother's recipe and the gift she sent him; a gift that brought back all sorts of childhood memories, pleasant and negative, yet with his mom's kindness always present even when he started acting like a brat towards her. He is in a somewhat tranquil state, almost shocked, one would say, oddly calm compared to how determined he was while he cooked. It doesn't have that much to do with his winning, he thinks now, but mostly with feelings of inner peace and gratitude; even now that he is a soldier, even after hiding his thoughts behind a mask of arrogance and rudeness, his mother is there, protecting him, guiding him even through something like a cook-off. It's a reassuring conclusion that makes him feel safe and he allows himself to offer Armin a faint smile, the blond placing a hand on his shoulder and giving him a thumbs-up, looking honestly happy and proud.

All of a sudden, he leaves a startled gasp at the sound of a girlish shriek filled with confusion and bitterness; after turning around he spots Sasha running towards the Commander of the Garrison, furiously slamming her hands on the table and persistently asking him how her high-quality cooked meat could lose. Pixis—whose soberness Jean is seriously doubting given the man's red cheeks and all-too-cheerful smile—goes on explaining how meat is simply meat, nothing more and nothing less. It sure as hell doesn't make sense to the fifteen-year-old boy, nor to Connie and Reiner, who helped Sasha prepare her meal…but it seems that the Potato Girl got the message, for she falls on her knees the next second with a shout of pure and raw sadness; something Jean never thought he would see on her.

"I was such a fool!" she cries out, holding on the tablecloth like a life-line, and Jean actually feels the impulse to yell at Pixis for his audacity to simply walk away, completely ignoring her breakdown. "I completely overlooked the carrots and potatoes I've relied on up 'till now. I tried to win by simply roasting meat!"

Jean, still in that peaceful state, didn't even think until now how he would act towards her should he win. Certainly the normal reaction for him would be to boast, to never let her live it down how the gluttonous Potato Girl lost in a cook-off against him. Bur now, seeing her like this, he scolds himself for these thoughts; he can barely believe it himself because of their previous bickerings, but the sight of her crying like that is something he doesn't like at all…hell, he even feels guilty about it, considering himself partly responsible for her tears.

It doesn't suit her. That's not the Sasha he knows. The Sasha he knows has a permanent smile on her face, pulls pranks on everyone and is all in all a ray of sunshine, just like the sunlight that starts illuminating the main yard, signaling the fact that they've been up all night for this contest. A contest that started to resolve an argument between two foolish teenagers and ended up being a personal battle.

And is it even worth it?

Seeing an innocent girl cry her eyes out makes him realize the true stupidity of this whole thing…he can't even properly enjoy his victory.

But what can he do to console her, when he has become known for his bad people skills?

Maybe if he spoke in her own terms…

"There's no need to be embarrassed." He chooses to say in the end, approaching her with careful steps in order not to scare her, and offering her a hand as a gesture of reconciliation and comfort.

Sasha looks up, surprised by the kind tone of his voice, and he can't help the soft and sweet smile that appears on his face. Maybe it's due to that peaceful sensation that courses through him, maybe it's the warmth of the sun that falls on his back and illuminates his features, but this smile is a genuine one; not mocking, not sarcastic, just a true smile directed at the girl with the teary eyes that's staring at him, almost as if she is wondering if he truly wants to help her feel better.

"You aren't the only one…who just roasted their dish." Jean adds, but not in a teasing way; he sounds gentle, far gentler than Sasha has ever heard him; in fact, far gentler than anyone in the military has ever heard him.

He is surprised himself, by his lack of any intension to mock her for losing and by his willingness to make her smile and, indirectly, to make it clear that their irrational arguments lie in the past, having faded away just like the night of their cook-off has faded away. Whatever the reason, though, and no matter how idiotic his words may sound to an outsider, he truly means them, and as he smiles at the Potato Girl, he can feel an entirely new light shining in him, a warmth that has nothing to do with the bring rays of the sun.

And, apparently, the girl kneeling down can feel it as well, for she doesn't slap his hand away, she doesn't yell at him to leave her alone, she doesn't insult him. No, she simply leaves a small sob and utters, "I'm sorry, Jean," accepting the hand he is offering her.

"It's fine," he chuckles lightly, clasping her hand in his and not letting it go for several moments. Now the warmth is overwhelming him, it's almost unnatural, like a glow enclosing him and Sasha, preventing reality from interfering. "Come on, on your feet," he helps her to stand up, still holding her hand for some seconds more before withdrawing it. "Dry those tears, okay? They don't suit you."

Sasha leaves a broken and teary laughter, slowly calming down, as if she too sensed that warm bubble around them and she is not willing to land back to the real world. She does as he advised her, though, wiping away her tears with her wrists and even giving him a smile that's not quite happy, but more content and sweet, like a silent promise between them to work more on the way they challenge each other from now on.

If he weren't so afraid of his own reactions, if he weren't so terrified of his communication skills, Jean would have liked to show her his wish for reconciliation more openly: for example by ruffling her hair to make her laugh or even by giving her a hug to apologize for the way he's been treating her until now. But he won't; he doesn't want things to go from comfortable to awkward and he senses that they've only just begun to mend fences; it's too soon for such gestures. For now he simply basks in the glow of the warm morning and in the positive feelings that are being reflected from him as he turns his back to Sasha and absentmindedly stares at the courtyard.

Maybe a visit home doesn't sound like such a bad idea after all.

It was funny, it was comforting and it was so friendly that I couldn't push you away and yell at you like I usually did whenever you talked to me. So I apologized and accepted the handshake…and as you laughed and told me it was fine, it was like a new light around us. Like we could move on as comrades and friends who would challenge and yet support each other. And I know you felt this too. You don't like to have others speak for you and your thoughts, but, instinctively, at that moment, I could feel the same realization from your side.

"So she felt it too. I had sensed it back then, but…at first I wondered why she didn't yell at me, but then…"

"But then you had the same feeling, didn't you? That this competition taught you to move on and base your relationship on a new foundation." Hanji helps him explain, now her amused smile having been replaced by a kinder one, almost as if she got transferred to that moment, to the memory Jean just shared with her and Levi.

She throws a side glance at the Captain, who is shaking his head due to Jean's narration and mumbling about how the hell not-being-the-only-one-with-a-roasted-dish could seem like a proper way of comfort to his subordinate. To Hanji, though, it sounds perfectly innocent and playful, just like Sasha described the cook-off at the beginning of Jean's letter; after all, they were only fifteen years old, they had just come out of a challenge and both of them felt that air of reconciliation and teenage awkwardness while seeking new ways to get along.

"So this was the start." Jean murmurs, speaking mostly to himself and not to his two superiors, his amber eyes focused on the parchment in his hand, his thoughts incoherent in his head as he attempts to put them in order. "I mean, of course I knew it was the start for both of us, but…to learn how much she valued that…"

And Sasha doesn't even mention his previous behavior in an accusatory way. Instead of telling him what an idiot he was, or openly scold him like she did with Eren, she gives him her own perspective on how he called her names and provoked her, saying that it was refreshing for her. Maybe this has its roots to the harsh treatment she received as a trainee spy in the Marley military? Maybe she compared his insults to the insults she would hear as a little girl? Maybe, in the end, she instinctively sensed that his insults towards her didn't mean her actual harm?

But then again, what did those insults mean? Because as Jean is thinking about it right now, he can't find a single valid reason for the way his verbal attacks were directed towards Sasha. Surely he was an arrogant brat back in the Cadet Corps, and Sasha seemed to be asking for mockery because of her insufferable gluttony, her constantly good mood and the pranks she played on everyone. But why the freaking hell did that matter to him? Why did he pick on her on a daily basis instead of letting her express herself however she wanted without being bothered by her antics?

And since when is humor and kindness a bad thing, anyway? He asks himself now, recalling how, with careful behavior and slow progress, things improved between him and Sasha and how he started laughing at her jokes instead of telling her to shut up like he used to. How, as things inside the walls grew darker, he started appreciating her optimism and her smiles more and more, like the Survey Corps had their own ray of light; the same light that engulfed him after the cook-off. And how, in the end, he grew so fond of these smiles that he couldn't even bear to see Sasha troubled or melancholic, considering it wrong and unnatural.

This is the image of Sasha he wants to carry in his mind as he continues reading his letter. The image of her smiling and being joyful…not the sullen Marley spy who believed there was no other way for her except keeping everything a secret.

And then I watched you change, put aside the scared part of you that wanted to live safely in Wall Sina, and become a leader for all of us. Still afraid, of course, but willing to defeat this fear in order to do what you thought was right. I watched you struggle with grief and guilt…and that's when I truly concluded that I could make a difference in this war. If you didn't allow your best friend's death to render you more afraid…if you used his memory to find the strength to join the Survey Corps…why should the thought of a nation across the ocean stop me from doing what I thought was right?

"Is she serious?" Jean exclaims, scaring Hanji and bringing Levi out of his calm and almost blank trance. "She makes it sound like it was easy for me…changing and battling my fears!"

"You sure about that?" The Captain retorts, rolling his eyes like he wants to say that Jean's a total moron. "Because from the way I read the letter, she pretty much sounds like she understood how hard it was for you."

"Maybe it's the letter that gives you this impression. Sometimes things that are written seem more emotionless and distant than they would if they were spoken. But I have to agree with Levi, Jean. Sasha knew how difficult this process was for you and she simply needed to focus on how you inspired her to defy her Marley training." Hanji nods, her almost motherly voice attempting to ease the young man's frustration, even though she knows that her words will probably fall on deaf ears.

"How I inspired her to defy her Marley training…how I inspired her to join the Scouts?" Jean stutters, recalling Hanji's letter, where Sasha pretty much implied that something happened that gave her the strength to turn her back to the MPs and enlist to the Scout Regiment instead, but insisted that it was a story for another letter. He suspected that, maybe, their talk before the choosing ceremony gave her the final incentive, but to think that perhaps his gradual change due to Marco's death was what first gave her the idea…

If she looked up to him so much indeed…that makes his initial thoughts of anger even worse. To think that she valued his opinions and he was ready to condemn her as a traitor to Paradis…

His guilt is resurfacing in waves, but he has no choice; he has to go on and find out more about his exact role in how Sasha betrayed Marley.

So I joined the Scout Regiment with you… determined to betray Marley…and determined to follow you to the shores of the island and beyond if necessary. I told you this, remember, on that evening in our new hideout when we kept watch. You laughed and said you weren't a leader…and I replied that you were everything I was seeing and imagining in a leader. I was honest, Jean. I looked up to you so much that it can't even be compared to the fear I felt towards my Marleyan superiors.

Falco, in case you still wonder who you remind me of…here's your answer.

"What?!"

"Hey, will you stop doing this? Finish reading already!"

"Levi! He needs to go through this, alright? We have to respect it!"

It's like Jean's mind has turned completely black; a darkness that can not be broken. His head is buzzing almost to the brink of dizziness and his knee is bouncing up and down in a crazed rhythm, although he can do nothing to stop it; not that he has the power to do anything at the moment. Cold shivers are running down his spine, he is shuddering and simultaneously he feels like he's sweating, like he's developing a fever.

He has forgotten that part, to be honest. He has forgotten that Sasha said, in Falco's letter, that someone reminded her of the little one. And now it is revealed that he is this person…that throughout the seven years they spent together, something in Jean brought back memories of Falco and his character; and, from what he can remember, positive ones as well. Because Sasha described Falco as a misguided child with a good-natured attitude, composure and high morals…could this be the reason behind the parallel she made? Just like Jean tries to keep his cool in difficult conditions while holding on his moral compass as much as he can…are those traits what Sasha saw in him that made the connection with their young prisoner?

The leader she always imagined. Jean remembers that evening all too well. The Scouts had just moved to a new house they would use as temporary Headquarters and it was one of those rare, quiet moments for the Recon Corps, when they had time for themselves, to relax or strategize without immediate threats. Eren was resting after an exhausting day of experimenting with his Titan form, the others were preparing dinner and Jean and Sasha were keeping watch outside, the former with his rifle ready to be used and Potato Girl with her bow and arrows, content for practicing her archery again.

It was Sasha who started to talk, softer and calmer and without her usual enthusiasm, telling him how far he had come since their cadet days and what a great leader he was developing into. Jean had indeed laughed goodheartedly at her words before commenting bitterly that, while it was a nice sentiment, it also was a false one, since he didn't feel like someone others should look up to, with his cowardice and his hesitation. Sasha, on the other hand, persisted, correcting him that what he perceived as 'cowardice' was actually composure and that his hesitation simply showed that he had a good head on his shoulders; admirable traits, according to her. She ended her speech by assuring him that everything he was afraid of, everything he doubted on himself, were the reasons why she would follow his leadership even to the lands outside the walls and beyond if it came down to that.

It had caught him off guard, her faith in him, the passionate way with which she spoke, and he remembers that, for some moments, all he could do was stare at her in a comfortable silence, her gaze not leaving his, making her point clear. He had decided to lighten the mood, had snickered and told her that compliments wouldn't give her half of his meal; but all this was only in order to conceal the pleasant feeling in his chest and the urge to thank her for believing in him.

It was a nice moment, and private, only for the two of them to cherish.

Even if it ended violently due to Hanji's arrival and the news of Pastor Nick's assassination.

Just like Sasha met her own violent demise, Jean thinks now while sighing and before continuing with the letter.

The next paragraphs, though, tear everything apart.

I look out of the window as I'm writing these words and stare at the grey sky that marks the dawn and the clouds that signal a storm coming.

Just like that day at the ocean.

When I broke down, crying for everything I had become, everything that could have been, the normal life I would never have the chance to fully experience. The information about Marley had been revealed in Eren's basement, the first wave of volunteers had arrived, and so I knew the battle was approaching. And, together with the battle, my time was also near. My plan had taken the way it should, it was in full motion, so I had taken the opportunity that cloudy day to sit down at the shore and admire the wild beauty of the ocean like I had never done before. To cry for everything and everyone, for my past and the future.

That's where you found me, Jean, and your gentle side came to surface.

That's when I almost confessed everything. When you hugged me and continued asking me what was wrong, I felt that burning wish to truly confess everything. But I didn't. I pushed you away, smiled at you and told you some nonsense or other about why I was crying. And I continued smiling as I watched you walk away, thinking that at least I had protected you from another shocking revelation.

There it is!

Out in the open!

The turning of the tide!

The eye of the storm!

The memory Jean has been trying to block these days, the memory that hurts him and causes him qualms, is right here, written on a piece of parchment by Sasha's hand. The obvious sign that something troubled her, the sign he should have focused more on and yet didn't…here it is, from Sasha's point of view.

Hanji looks with compassion at the nineteen-year-old; she may not have the letter in front of her, but Jean's distraught expression and the way his hand tightens in a fist doesn't leave her much room, she can guess precisely which part of the letter he has reached. She leaves a soft sigh and now she and Levi have locked eyes: an unspoken truth, an agreement not to speak, to let Jean process it in his own time.

The reason Hanji told Jean he should come to her and Levi when the time for his letter would have come.

There is no turning back now. Especially not now. Even if there were, Jean is well aware that he passed it long ago. He had his chance to throw away the box of letters and pretend nothing of this ever happened. He had the chance to dismiss everything he read like a spy's pretense. But he crossed that point and now he is regretting his original attitude towards this series of letters; and no matter his fear, no matter the burning sensation that doesn't allow him to breathe properly, he can't help but get lost with every sense in that memory…recall that stormy day and everything it brought.

"Ah, there you are, Potato Girl! You got us all worried, it's not like you to miss lunch and—Sasha?" Jean stops in his tracks, a gasp escaping his lips, eyes widened, unable to believe the sight in front of him.

Trying to locate Sasha isn't easy, among the tents that now decorate a small clearing near some rocks, a very short distance from the ocean. It's been one year since the remaining Scouts finally discovered the sea, new recruits have already started enlisting to their regiment and the first anti-Marley volunteers have arrived. Negotiations have begun, facts about the world beyond the ocean are being written down, customs and knowledge are being shared between the colorful mix of people that occupy the shores of Paradis and, gradually, also the lands inside the walls. It's not always easy, suspicions between the various parties run high and sometimes escalate into heated arguments, but it's a relative calm before the chaos that will no doubt eventually explode.

The former members of the 104th are seventeen years old. Seventeen, Jean sometimes repeats the number in his head as if he is unable to fully believe it. In another time, in another world, they would be at the bloom of their youth, excited to take their own steps, ready to grasp life and experience it fully. Yet now they feel much older than their current age, even having the impression that they're the same age with their superiors, and they are grateful for every day they are alive. It's absurd and tragic, according to Jean's humble opinion, being seventeen and grateful for being alive, but after everything they have faced in the Scout Regiment ever since they were fifteen, he knows that he should feel grateful.

And yet despite all this, despite the constant nightmares everyone faces, the sight in front of him is unprecedented: Sasha sitting on the sand, chin jolted up, arms wrapped around her legs, shoulders shaking so violently from the sobs that she can't even breathe normally. An empty shell of how Sasha used to be, now indifferent towards everything and everyone, drowning in her sorrow, having blocked out her surroundings, not even caring about the grey sky, the wind and the ominous storm clouds that loom at the horizon, about to strike in a few hours.

The last time Jean saw her so panicked was after Historia's coronation and the battle against Rod Reiss's Titan, when the guilt for having killed other people consumed her and caused her to burst out. However, it's not necessary to have a vivid imagination in order to realize that this is something else, something deeper torturing her, something that has been probably building in her for some time. And it pains him, he realizes with a start as he approaches her with tentative steps; it actually pains him, seeing Sasha suffering like that, lost in her troublesome thoughts.

"Sasha?"

His voice, no matter how gentle, seems to scare her, for she abruptly turns her head to look at him, hazel eyes widening upon the realization of who has joined her and is witnessing her breakdown. Even though she quickly averts her gaze from him, and her voice is as low as a whisper, Jean still hears the horrified "Oh no" that escapes her lips, this single phrase striking him harder than a physical blow. What does her "Oh no" only mean? Does Sasha simply feel mortified that someone has caught her in such a moment? Or is it specifically because of him, because, for reasons only she knows, the last thing she wants is him seeing her in such a state? And even if he hates to admit it, even to himself, Jean has to accept that the latter is what he fears most.

Whatever the case, though, one thing is certain: that he can't abandon her right now, even if she doesn't talk to him about what is troubling her. Despite how bad he is at actual communication, despite his tendency for blunt honesty and not for tender compassion, he can't leave Sasha on her own, so vulnerable, so fragile, crying as if a horrible disaster has fallen over her. And so he sits next to her, though keeping a small distance to make it clear to her that he's giving her space; a presence comforting, but not overwhelming for the Potato Girl. Her breath catches in her throat for a second, like she didn't expect him to actually stay with her, or like she doesn't know how to react, but then she sighs and even takes a deeper and calmer breath, trying to control her ragged sobs.

"I only hope there weren't bad news from home." Jean starts, mentioning the first scenario that crosses his mind, and smiles in relief when Sasha shakes her head, even though this does little to stop her crying. "Grior being a jerk towards you again?"

It's the second most possible reason he can think of that could upset Sasha so much, for the Marleyan newcomer, though rude and unpleasant towards everyone, is particularly nasty towards Sasha, constantly insulting her, yelling at her or taunting her, sometimes with no specific reason. Not that Jean's past behavior towards her was better, but he never actually meant to hurt her, while Grior seems to seriously enjoy every single offense he throws at her and every frown that appears on her face because of him—in fact, Jean begins to think that Grior has some sort of sick obsession with making Sasha's days difficult, something the remaining members of the former 104th don't like at all despite Sasha being able to defend herself with witty remarks and pleasant smiles.

Why Grior seems to despise Sasha so much, Jean is still trying to understand, although he suspects that it has to do with the way Nicolo has softened towards her, becoming kinder, enjoying her company and seeming grateful at the way she has accepted him and all the other volunteers from Marley. After all, Grior still considers all of them inferior devil spawns, meant to deceive them, so maybe he thinks that Sasha's bright personality is nothing but a lie? Could that be reason enough?

"N-No…I-I mean, he is, b-but…noth-nothing out of the ordinary." Sasha stutters, rejecting Jean's assumption that Grior is the cause for her tears. She doesn't elaborate, though, locking her gaze at the sea in front of them, cheeks having stains from the tears still flowing.

"Well, I may have bad people skills, but a funny and compassionate Potato Girl I know has taught me how much it helps to talk about anything torturing you."

Jean didn't know what purpose his comment serves; whether he made it to bring a smile on Sasha's face or encourage her to open up to him about what brought her in this state. But he definitely didn't anticipate her reaction, much less mean to invoke it; the surprised gasp that escapes her lips catches him off guard, making him look startled towards her and notice with dread that she seems even worse than she was a few moments ago. It's a pained sound, as if it hurts her physically, and the next minute Sasha leans heavily sideways, as if she is one second away from fainting on the sand, her head falling on the crook of Jean's neck. The nineteen-year-old male's amber eyes widen in silent shock at the sight of the upset girl leaning on him, her hair tickling his neck, him feeling every single tremble of her shoulder as sobs wreck Sasha's whole body.

"Don't say that, please, never say that…anything but that…you don't understand…"

"Sasha, what on—"

"Don't! Just don't, please!" Sasha insists, burying her head even more into Jean's neck, as if attempting to hide from the world; and, as if this wasn't enough, her hand grasps his sleeve, shaking it in her panic, like a life-line and, simultaneously, like a tether binding her into a trap she can't escape from, leaving the other Scout dumbfounded and unable to say anything, locked as he is in this dramatic illusion of a hug.

Despite the improvement in their relationship, the hugs between them are rare, almost non-existent, and Jean can recall every single one into his mind. The first one was right after Marco's death, when he was like a lifeless body walking without a mind, and Sasha's hug was nothing more than a temporary sunshine penetrating the darkness conquering him that period of time.

The second one was after he recovered from his injuries, after the battle against Reiner and Bertholdt when their identities as Titan Shifters had been revealed; that time it was a spontaneous expression of relief from Sasha's side, her own way to tell him how happy she was for him being well and healthy.

And the third one was after the battle in Shiganshina, when she got better from her severe wounds and the truth about the nation beyond the sea became known; a quiet assurance, this hug, a promise of friends sticking together and of having something constant in his life in the midst of all the overthrows.

But these previous hugs were nothing compared to the way Sasha is clutching Jean's arm now, to how heavily she shakes, to how she refuses to meet the nineteen-year-old man's eyes, and to her repetitive pleas not to say things like that and that he wouldn't understand. This Sasha is like a ghost of her usual self, lost to the world and consumed by…well, if Jean needs to name the emotions he is sensing from her, it would be grief and guilt, even though he can't even imagine what has triggered this reaction from her. Not to mention that, even though he hates himself for thinking like that, the fact that Sasha doesn't even want to open up to him leaves a bitter taste in his mouth, and a mix of anger and despair in his mind.

But of course Sasha won't trust him with what is tormenting her, given his blunt honesty and his poor skills at dealing with emotions. Why on earth would she trust someone who would probably not understand instead of someone who would effectively stand by her side?

But he can't bring himself to stand up and leave her in peace. Not when she is still leaning on him like that, hiding her face in the crook of his neck, as if she is seeking for some sort of warmth and closeness in her despair. Not when this is the closest they've been in all the five years they've known each other, not when he shivers at the thought that, should he move just a bit, their foreheads would touch and the distance between them would be even less. And maybe then he could show her that he will understand, that she can talk to him about whatever rendered her such a broken shell, maybe he can guide her towards a path with less grief and guilt for her.

He can't do that, though. He can't bring himself closer to her, not when she is in this state, not when she is obviously not thinking clearly. The only thing he can do is hesitantly lift his hands, place one on the small of her back and the other on her forearm, slowly and carefully drawing small circles and unidentified patterns on them. Not because he believes she is made of glass and will break even with the slightest touch, of course not, the girl in his hug has been through hell and come out stronger and more mature. He only doesn't want to scare her more, wants to give her even the illusion of temporary safety, find a way to break the darkness in her mind for a single moment.

"What's wrong, Sasha?" He still makes an effort, sighing when she frantically shakes her head. "What's wrong?" He repeats the question, uttering it again and again, with more and more feeling every time, doing anything in his hand to sound as convincing as possible, to make her see that she has nothing to fear of him, nothing to be ashamed of.

He notices Sasha opening her eyes, yet avoiding meeting his, her gaze stubbornly focused on the sand or the waves the wind causes. The storm is slowly approaching , thunder can be heard and more clouds gather in the sky the more time passes, but she doesn't seem bothered by it, or even care about getting cold, closed in her own shell, almost unfazed by the elements of nature or the boy currently holding her and asking her to trust her burdens in him. Right now Jean's despair is more intent than ever and he honestly doesn't know what to do: to shut up and embrace her silently, to show his own affection more openly to show her she isn't alone, or to go away and tell Connie to come here, with the hope that he'll help Sasha better?

In the end, Sasha decides for both of them; even in this state, she is the one in control of the current situation.

With a ferocity that contradicts her mental pain and suffering, she pushes his arms away and raises her head in order to look at him, her lips even curling into a smile, her flushed cheeks a contrast to how pale she is, tears having left stains on her face and her breath still coming out uneven. That smile, though, the smile that usually brightens Jean's thoughts, the smile that gives him hope to face any difficulty, that same smile now appears as strange and forced to the male Scout, as if it's there simply to make him stop worry and not because Sasha genuinely feels that smile. This actually has the opposite effect of what she probably intends; instead of relaxing, his worry for her only magnifies, as does his guilt for not being good enough to comfort her.

"Oh, Jean, don't look at me like that. I'm sorry for scaring you so much, I promise you, it's not important. You can go back to the others, I'll join you when it starts raining. Truly, I'll be fine."

Jean shakes his head, clearly not believing her, for Sasha's rambling is so obviously concealing what she truly means that he doesn't even need to call her out on her pretense. It reminds him so much of his own reactions; how he blocks his negative feelings and tries to convince everyone that he's okay, that he can see behind her words immediately.

Unless it's truly rather insignificant and he's overthinking it because he doesn't want to see Sasha upset?

But were it rather insignificant, why be upset in the first place?

It's a storm of emotions in his mind, just like the stormy weather…despair, affection, fear and anger building up a wild dance in him…why can't Sasha just tell him that he can't know what she's thinking about? Why is she trying to persuade him to leave her on her own and not tell him that it's simply none of his business?

"Jean, truly, it's fine, just a bad moment." Sasha insists and even shoves his arm gently as if forcing him to stand up and leave. "Go back, leave me here!"

He doesn't want to. Truly, he doesn't. He wants to stay here, wrap her in his arms again and continue pleading her to shed her barriers and tell him anything she wishes to, to confess to him what kind of thought tortures her to the point of uncontrollable tears.

But he also knows he can't do that. Not when she clearly doesn't want his presence here and not when he himself often feels the need to be isolated when tormented by nasty thoughts and overwhelming fears. Not when he fears that, should he stay, maybe he'll do Sasha more harm than good.

So without saying anything to her, and after leaving a loud sigh, he simply stands up, throws one last look at her slumped shoulders, and walks back to the camp with a huge weight on his shoulders.

I sound brave now, but I wasn't back then. Truth is, Jean, if you had stayed for a while longer, if you had insisted, if you had asked one more time, I wouldn't hold back. My control was already fading and, had you stayed with me, I would have told you everything that burdened me. I was a coward. I was afraid of how you would see me should I talk, I was afraid of the walls that my secret would build between us…and at the same time I knew that you're one of the two people I could talk freely to.

Because you wouldn't react like any other person. You're brave, decent and caring in your own way and yet so stubborn when it comes to your regiment and your friends. You would have listened to me and, even if you reacted angrily and hated me, I know you would agree to listen to my plan if it was beneficial for everyone.

"She would have talked to me? One more time…one more question…and…?"

His voice, a wisp of air, an illusion of sound even in such silent a room as Hanji's office.

His mind, a blank emptiness that can't comprehend everything Sasha is telling him in her letter and all the hidden meanings that are still obvious for him to see.

One more time would have been enough. If he hadn't listened to her, if he had obeyed his instinct and his wish to stay with her and show her what she meant to him and that he would listen to her…

He could have known everything for two years already. He could have known her secret past and her mission to spy on Paradis on Marley's behalf. He would have had time to process her revelations and his reactions and he would have had more time to believe and accept that she never betrayed those close to her.

And in the end, he could have protected her better than he had, keep her safe from her inner demons and her guilt.

Maybe, in the very end, she would still be alive.

If only he weren't a damn coward…if only he had asked her one more time what made her burst out like that.

His imagination is still conjuring that memory, in all its painful details…her tears, the feeling of her shaking in his arms, his growing despair at not being able to give her something to hold on…and now he finds out that Sasha wanted to hold on to him, to confess everything, despite her fear at how he would react to her secrets. One of the two people she wanted to confide in and he doesn't have to be extremely intelligent to figure out who the second one is.

And yet all these speculations won't ever come true, only because he didn't stay by her side at her moment of need.

Jean doesn't know what hurts most at the moment. The fact that he could have known the truth about Sasha much sooner, or the faith she expresses for him in her letter, by calling him 'brave' and 'decent' when he knows too well that there's a long way before he can call himself worthy of those characterizations? Sasha, inspired by everything they lived these years, was certain that he'd push aside his anger at her secrecy, and focus on using the information she'd relay him for the benefit of the Survey Corps…just like he tries to do every time a challenge comes up, trying to stay objective and composed in order to figure out the best course of action.

Sasha believed in him so much, and he was ready to hate her for not telling him the truth about her past.

Desperately, briefly closing his eyes, he shakes his head, almost as if he wants to block everything and everyone, now completely ignoring his Commander and his Captain. Only the letter exists for him, the letter and the key next to him, and so, after blinking to chase away the tears that start forming in his eyes, he focuses back on the parchment.

And my origins and my plan to betray Marley wouldn't be the only revelations I'd have made that day to you. Because at that moment, as I fought with my entire being to keep my mouth shut, I imagined a life and a future where you knew everything. A life where I could decide my fate with no Marley threatening me…a life where I could tell you the truth and you would stay by my side. And for the first time in a long time, I could imagine a future where I would be happy. A normal woman with a normal life…the cheerful and hopeful girl I always was…the girl who challenged you to open up, the girl you inspired to improve herself. At that moment, I imagined how good my life could actually turn out to be.

But I was afraid. You are the only person whose reaction I truly feared. Not only in reference to me personally, I know I deserve your anger and your hatred. But also for the sake of all the playful bickerings we had, of all the strategic conversations, of all the silent, comforting moments. You had witnessed so many betrayals, so many tragedies…I had no right to cause you even more trust issues, not when you needed every single person by your side…not when we had just discovered the ocean and the scent of great change was in the air.

So, please, don't blame yourself. Don't start beating yourself up about what you could have done differently. Nothing of this was your fault. It was mine and only mine. Because despite the determination I had to see my plan through, I still allowed my fear and my guilt for the past to overwhelm me.

Pushing you away that day wasn't because of anything you had done. It was only me.

"No, no. It can't be…I could have stayed, I could have…we could have…"

I'm not excusing myself or asking you to forgive me, I know it's too much to ask. But I owe you so much…because thanks to you I found the courage to continue with my plan even in my darkest moments, when I thought it wasn't worth it. Even if I let you get away that day at the ocean, your impact was much stronger than you give yourself credit for.

For the sake of everything I told you, for everything we lived and for everything you taught me, I have a last gift for you.

In your envelope, there's a key. If you're not Jean, don't bother to try and find out what it opens. It's only for him to find out because only he will understand the meaning behind it.

If you are Jean, even if it's difficult for you to believe everything I say, please follow the path I showed you with this key. Because sometimes a key is everything we need to open all answers of the world.

Here it is. Everything out in the open. The reason everyone gets on Jean's nerves by telling him to continue reading and that he needs to understand before the Scouts sink. The reason Levi told Hanji that Zeke considers Jean a threat to his plan.

And for a twisted and peculiar reason, Jean can't even react to the cryptic message Sasha left for him and him only. It doesn't come with an explosion or with some sort of fanfare; just a few words, simple and yet complicated, written on a piece of parchment by Sasha's hand. Some words over which he doesn't need to spend nights away and trouble his mind to decode them, because he already knows the answer to Potato Girl's riddle.

But not even this can bring some sort of reaction.

Silence roams in the office, Hanji even barely breathes as she watches the Commanding Officer, now truly scared for the first thing that will come out of his mouth now that he has finished his letter. Levi, more calmer than the female Commander, observes the other man with a stoic expression, yet even he can feel the shift in the air, the impression that they have reached a breaking point.

A few seconds later comes the explosion.

A/N: Here we go, everyone, another chapter has come to an end! :) The potential lover that got away...Seriously, I got emotional writing it and I hope you enjoy it as well! :) Next chapter will be up as soon as possible. :)