Harry's blacksmith shop sat near the southeastern edge of Shiganshina District, while Ronan's home was nestled deep in the central area. The distance wasn't short—but that was exactly why Ronan chose to run home every day after work. It had started as a way to train his body, a routine to push his limits. Over time, his body responded. He no longer jogged—he sprinted.
Each day, he ran a little faster.
Each day, the limit moved a little further.
"Huff... huff... huff..."
Today was no different. His breath came in short bursts as he sprinted through the narrow streets, sweat streaming down his neck. His shirt clung to his back, and steam rose off his body like he was a living forge. The townspeople had gotten used to the sight by now. They would call out to him with teasing smiles as he passed.
"Still running like a madman, Ronan?"
"Careful you don't burn a hole in the road!"
Ronan would wave or shout back in jest, drawing a few chuckles and shaking heads. It warmed them—this boy who used to be withdrawn and quiet was now vibrant, alive. Even if they didn't say it, the change in him was something they all noticed.
But what they didn't know was that the Ronan they were watching... wasn't the same boy who had grown up here.
He was someone else now.
And just when Ronan thought today would pass like any other, a sharp voice cut through the air from a side alley.
"I'm not a heretic! Stop going too far!"
There was defiance in the words—but also fear.
It was followed by mocking laughter.
"Well, well, our little heretic's talking back now."
"Should we teach him a real lesson this time?"
"Nip it in the bud, I say. Heretics don't grow up into good citizens."
"He's about to cry, look! Haha—what a freak."
Ronan's heart clenched. A face appeared in his mind before he even turned toward the sound.
Golden hair. Kind eyes. A fragile spirit.
Armin...
Without hesitation, Ronan spun on his heel and sprinted into the alley.
And there they were. Five kids had cornered a smaller, fair-haired boy, pushing him around with jeers and cruel smiles.
"Hey!" Ronan shouted as he approached. "You brats picking on Armin again?"
"Brother Ronan!" Armin's eyes lit up with relief.
The other boys turned, irritation flickering across their faces. The tallest among them stepped forward with a smirk.
"You gonna fight us again, Ronan? Mikasa's not here to back you up this time."
Ronan glanced at Armin and offered him a quick, reassuring smile. "I don't need Mikasa to deal with you guys."
Armin looked nervous. He remembered past fights—how Ronan used to get beaten despite his age. Five on one was never easy.
He's still scared, Ronan realized. Still shrinking into himself.
Something stirred inside him. He wouldn't let that fear fester any longer.
Without warning, he lunged forward and drove his fist straight into the leader's face. The kid crumpled to the ground, groaning in pain.
"Litton?!"
"You bastard—!"
"No more games! Let's beat him down!"
The rest of the boys rushed at him.
Ronan didn't hesitate. He threw himself into the brawl, fists flying. The other boys landed a few hits, but they were clumsy, weak. He shrugged off the pain, focusing on bringing each of them down one by one.
His training had paid off. His strength was no longer that of a normal child. Within moments, the alley was filled with the groans of five defeated bullies.
"…So strong…"
Armin stood in stunned silence. This wasn't the Ronan he remembered. He'd never seen him fight like this before.
Ronan turned to him, breathing heavily but smiling. "You okay?"
"I—I am. Thank you, Brother Ronan. If you hadn't come, I would've…"
"Don't mention it. We're friends, right?"
He offered his hand, and Armin grabbed it gratefully.
"Let's get out of here," Ronan said, glancing at the groaning boys. "I don't feel like babysitting anymore."
---
A short while later, the two sat by the river, the soft current flowing beside them, reflecting the late afternoon sun.
Armin sat with his arms wrapped around his knees, staring into the water. "…Brother Ronan, is my idea really wrong?"
Ronan looked at him. "Your idea?"
"…That we should explore the outside world. Everyone says I'm crazy. That we should stay inside the walls, that we're safe here. They laugh at me, call me a heretic. Sometimes I wonder… maybe I am wrong."
Ronan was quiet for a moment. He stared out at the water, his expression unreadable.
"…You're not wrong, Armin. People are just scared. A hundred years behind these walls has made them forget what it means to dream. But there are still people like you… like Eren, Mikasa... and me."
Armin turned to him, surprised.
"I believe in the outside world too," Ronan said quietly. "And I believe in you."
The wind rustled the grass. Armin stared, wide-eyed.
If Ronan had been a normal boy born within the walls, he might've laughed at Armin's dreams. He might've feared the Titans too much to ever think of venturing out.
But Ronan had seen the future.
He knew the wall would fall next year.
He knew the cost of inaction.
He didn't say it aloud—but the fear in his heart remained.
I'm scared of dying... he admitted inwardly. But I'm more scared of doing nothing.
"Thank you, Brother Ronan," Armin said, his voice soft with emotion.
"You're still being too polite."
Ronan reached over and ruffled Armin's hair. "Next year, I'm joining the military. I'm going to enlist in the Survey Corps."
Armin stiffened. "The Survey Corps…?"
"I'll go see the outside world for you," Ronan said, smiling. "You can stay safe until then."
Armin opened his mouth, then closed it. He wanted to protest—but seeing the resolve in Ronan's eyes, he stayed silent.
"…Then bring back stories," Armin finally said.
Ronan's eyes sparkled.
"Did you know," he said, "there's a place out there where water stretches beyond the horizon? A sea so vast you can't see the other side. And strange animals that glow, or fly, or roar in ways we've never heard before."
Armin's eyes widened.
"Endless water…?"
"Yeah," Ronan said, gazing past the wall, as if he could already see it. "It's called the ocean."
Armin leaned forward, voice breathless with wonder.
"I want to see it too… the ocean…"