August 31st, year 847

I've never really been lonely. Apparently that's a strange thing, but I've always enjoyed being on my own, and while I have nothing against individual humans, I've never liked people much. Perhaps this was one of the many reasons that surprised Erwin when I came to him with my decision.

Or perhaps it was the fact that he had seen in myself a bitterness I had made no effort to hide, a disdain for all he stood for and a longing to distance myself from the militant expectations that weighed down my very soul. To bear the burdens of my family name, on both sides to boot, no matter which name I use, whether it be of my mother's or father's side I will be stuck under the perpetual state of hellish truth that is the expectations of everyone and anyone who knows who I am. All I have ever wanted to do is tell stories, to be able to eviscerate others in fiction as it has done for me, that is to say if my rather pretentious or convoluted style of journaling is of any indication.

But I'm still here, sitting in Erwin's office, which is what I like to call the predictable sort of tidy. The kind of neat that makes me wonder if he ever actually used anything in it, or if the place was simply frozen in static and suspended animation. But I'm sitting across from the man who serves as my legal guardian, the chair feels uncomfortable and impossibly hard for something of such nice quality. It feels unnatural to be in a place I hate so much and yet surrounded by so much comfort, though frankly that seems like an apt metaphor for the last two years.

Erwin sighs, an almost uncharacteristic melancholy over taking his features, "You're really going ahead with this choice?"

I grimace, something between anger and anxiety turning in my gut. "Of course I am."

He seems to deflate, if only ever so slightly, "And your hatred of the military? Has that changed."

"I don't hate the military, I hate the military police, and the system, but if the only way to get any footing in society is to play their games, I'll do it, but I'll be damned if I do it on their terms."

"How old are you again?"

"Thirteen."

Erwin sighs, pinching his brow in defeat more than exasperation, "Well I suppose at least that runs in the family."

"What does?"

He raised an eyebrow, "yes well, there's a nasty tendency to be far too smart for our own good in this family."

"That's one way to frame a backhanded comment." I mutter leaning back, and Erwin shoots me another concerned look. "Besides, it's not like I've been around kids my own age lately, it's basically just been school kids for a moment in Ehrmich, all of whom had way more money than my family ever has and then alone in Shiganshina and then to the Survey Corps, joining the training corps will give me an opportunity to actually be around people my age."

I've prepared multiple arguments beforehand, each structured to an obsessive perfection. Practiced to myself last night as I paced back and forth in the old office that'd been repurposed into a dorm room of sorts. But that's besides the point.

Erwin sighs again, leaning back slightly in his place, shaking his head, "I take it you've made up your mind then?"

"Y-yeah," I stutter, coughing dryly before finding my voice, "Yes, I have. And no, you aren't going to be able to convince me not to go, Levi's tried plenty over the last two years but my mind is made up, I'm going."

Erwin shook his head again, letting a dry smile slip onto his lips, "you're a stubborn one alright."

"That's rich coming from you."

He rolls his eyes at me, "You know when you graduate you're not going to be able to talk to your commanding officers like that," there's a ghost of a smile on his lips that I can't help but mirror.

"I'll burn that bridge when I get there, besides, you aren't my commanding officer yet, you're just my Uncle, which is not the same thing."

"And if it was," he reaches for the cup of tea I'd brought in just before he asked me to sit and talk, taking a long sip of the dark liquid. He raises an eyebrow before allowing a smile to slip through, "I take it you would ignore it?"

I smirk as sheepishly as one can, "yeah, probably."

Erwin sighs again, taking another sip of tea, "This is good," he's talking about the tea, at least I'm assuming he is.

"I learnt from the best." I say, mind drifting sideways to the nights where I pestered Levi into showing me how he makes tea.

Erwin placed the cup back on the saucer. "Why."

"Why what?"

"Why are you joining the scouts?"

"Technically I'm joining the cadets."

Erwin rolls his eyes at me again and I shove away the anxiety that threatens to bubble up from the pit of my stomach.

"Right, well, you wouldn't let me join last year, said I needed at least a year to think it over, so here I am, a year later, sure this is what I want."

"But why?"

I can't help but wonder if he's doing this on purpose, and if the amused glint in the back of his eye is any indication, he most certainly is. "Well let's see," I take the bait, leaning back in my seat as my eyes drift towards the ceiling, the rim of my glasses coming into view. "Well it's the only logical solution. I have a strong dislike of the military police and I know they don't have the best opinion of me either, frankly as far as they're considered our entire family is a nuisance that deserves to be stomped out because we're too smart for our own good. I know that if they were given the excuse, I might die, and frankly that terrifies me. Call it personal interest, but I really want as little to do as possible with the military police, so they're out of the question. Next up you have the garrison and as much as engineering interests me, it's really only with ODM gear that it does, and even then I prefer practical use to theoretical. Outside of the military I would want to do something like writing, and I know you've said, it and so has Mike, and Moblit, and Mom and Dad and Hange and even Levi of all people, but I'm not going into politics, as good as I could be in that field the military police are bound to interfere because I'm related to you and even if I took my Mum's surname it wouldn't be much help either given how her family was treated-"

"Gwyn."

"Huh?"

"You're rambling, slow down."

"Right, sorry."

"Don't apologize," Erwin sighed, "I'll be honest with you here and now. You are ridiculously smart, you're observant and good and introspection, you ask too many questions and make connections quickly and easily. This is both your greatest strength, and your quickest downfall."

"I know," I mumble, anxiety turning over into annoyance, "you don't need to remind me."

"Let me finish."

I nod, and he continues.

"You would be an incredible asset to the Scouts when the time comes, that being said you're thirteen right now. Meaning you'd be sixteen when you graduate, if I had my way, I'd ask you to wait until the very least you'd be eighteen upon graduation."

My face flushes, embarrassment taking over my patience as somewhere within me anger flares. "What because I'm a child? Just because I'm young doesn't mean I'm not capable." My words surge forward before I can stop them, my body following suit as I sit up, ready to stand my ground.

"And I'm aware of that," Erwin shakes his head at me, his voice raised as if to discourage any further interruptions as I, albeit, reluctantly, sit back down. "But you're, rushing to grow up, is something that I'll be the first to admit concerns me." He pauses, before adding, almost softly, "I don't want you taking the same path I have."

"I'm not in a rush to grow up," I interrupt again, words tumbling out of my mouth as I continue on as quickly as I can before I'm stopped, "It's not that I don't want to be a kid, I mean, well, it is kinda a bit to late for that anyways. But I've never been good with people my own age, maybe it's just where I grew up but I know my parents told you at least once that I didn't do well in school. I can do the stuff I know I can, I can understand people but I've had to learn pretty much every social cue I know via trial and error when everyone else just seems to know them. Besides, most adults hate me, or at least acted like that. In some ways, ending up here was the best thing that ever happened to me because I don't need to worry about appearances, I don't need to worry about what others think of me, I don't need to worry about if I'm saying all the right things at all the right times because it's so obvious here, or maybe it's just obvious now." I trial off, words caught in my throat. "It's not that I don't want to know kids my own age, it's that I don't know how. But there will be kids my age in the cadets so that'd be a good chance to then right?"

I think I've already said that.

"Are you just saying that or?"

Yeah I definitely already said that.

"Okay maybe I'm just saying that, but I don't like people."

"You seem to like Levi and Hange well enough."

"Levi, Hange, Mike, Moblit and you aren't people. You guys are individual humans, I like individual humans, I don't like people." I say, not bothering to hide the attitude that laces my words.

Erwin looks at me again, "I wish you wouldn't join the scouts. But I doubt I could stop you even if I wanted to." I brighten, a grin stretching across my face as he shakes his head, "I would only ask then when you do join, that you don't hate me."

I raise an eyebrow, "I'd be a hypocrite if I did," I shrug, "I mean I'm not joining because of a noble cause, honestly speaking I only really want to join because I want to know if I'm right."

"Not because your father died over that theory? Or because of your younger brother? Or grandfather?"

"That's low Erwin," I hiss, "Even for you. But no. I'm not going to pretend this is for them, if people ask me I'll probably lie and tell them some grandiose myth about the outside world, but as far as I'm concerned I'm here for my own entirely selfish reasons. Any guilt I have doesn't have to do with that." The words come out far harsher than I intended, and perhaps that surprised him, perhaps it made him raise an eyebrow, perhaps it did many things but I wasn't looking at Erwin. My gaze was burning into the sleek mahogany of the desk. I'm lying of course, even now, I'm lying, but really it's the only thing I'm properly good at, completely on my own without the help of others, but Erwin doesn't need to know that.

And I don't think he does, because he relents, and agrees. And here I am, writing all of it down in a dead language because paranoia is a bitch. But from what Mum did say, I wouldn't really call it a dead language, though in the walls it certainly is, even so I'd like to convince myself for just a little while longer that she was wrong, that those really were just stories. That's not stopping me from using her surname over Smith for the time being though, and given Erwin's reputation and the obscurity the Tyber's have managed to fall into, I think that's probably for the best.

Honestly, I'm surprised I got him to agree to everything to this degree, let alone to such an extreme extent. Hell he's even letting me use my mother's surname when I sign up, something I'm far more excited about then I'm going to admit.

If this was just a journal, then really it would only be for myself, I wouldn't need to elaborate, I wouldn't need to go into detail on who's who, there wouldn't be any need for any form of convoluted or borderline pretentious pros. But that, as far as I'm concerned, is boring.

I like stories. I always have. I want to be able to write a book someday, however I also want to be able to see the world, I want to go beyond the walls, I want to know if the stories my parents told me of their own downfall were true. I want to move past Erwin's shadow and stand in my own light. And I'm doing it my way, so I'm telling this story my way. Assuming that is, I don't forget to write for months at a time and end up omitting key details. I suppose it doesn't help that I can be forgetful, though I really don't get how "normal people" (so to speak) are able to just remember things they aren't actually interested in.

Either way it doesn't matter right now. What matters right now is the fact that I am ignoring the concept of the fourth wall, maybe I'll continue to do so, maybe I won't. Who knows. Regardless of any personal preference or stake I may have in the matter I'd ask for you to hear me out at the very least, after all, the only thing that has ever come naturally to me is lying. And a story teller's job is to tell you lies so real you wish they were true, the only difference here, is that this is the one place I won't lie. Not to myself, not to others, this leather bound journal, one that's got more pages than I imagined, I will tell the truth. Perhaps I might skirt around it, as given me being me that's probably unavoidable, but at the very least, I would like to imagine, that this is a place in which I find myself not lying, oh and before anyone goes there, lying by omission is bullshit, just because I don't tell you something doesn't mean I'm not lying, as far as I'm concerned, that's called intrigue, also I'm forgetful so yes I will be using that as an excuse when I can.

I've always had a good intuition, at least to some extent, though maybe intuition is the wrong word. It's more of a talent in terms of knowing when a person is lying, rather ironic given that I've always been a good liar, I suppose it's one of my only talents. By talents I of course mean things that come naturally without any semblance of effort, lying and telling when others are lying both call into that category. Once more ironic given my ever present struggle with social cues.

Either way, there's been an electricity in the air since Maria. Like the scent before a thunderstorm, I've always loved thunderstorms, there's a strange comfort in them. Which is strange because normally I positively despise sudden flashes of light and loud noises, but thunderstorms have always been this strangely comforting exception to that, I really don't know how to explain it. I do hope that when the first crash of thunder comes tumbling down once more, because as far as I'm concerned it's surely inevitable, I can find it in myself to find at the very least some comfort in this storm.

Besides, I'd like to be at least a somewhat reliable narrator, not that anyone in the walls would be able to read any of this anyways, but that's enough for now, I suppose I'll be back soon enough, assuming I even remember to continue journaling this.