"Eren!"
Without another thought, Zeke slung his rifle across his back and shoved through the crowd. His eyes locked onto two small figures b Erenced precariously on wooden crates at the rear of the square.
They were standing on tiptoe, craning their necks to glimpse the returning Survey Corps.
That little vantage point was enough for Zeke to spot them instantly.
And then, before the boy could even react—Zeke swept him into a crushing embrace.
"W-wah?!" Eren's eyes went wide in shock.
Zeke buried his face against the boy's hair, inhaling deeply. A dizzying wave of emotion rolled through him.
Alive. So small, so untainted.
"Haah…" Zeke whispered like a man finding water after years in the desert.
"Children smell like fresh grass. Eren~! Mwah!"
He planted a loud kiss on the boy's cheek, unable to contain himself.
Reborn, that's what it felt like. To hold this younger version of his brother—eyes brighter, spirit untouched by despair—it was overwhelming.
But the boy in his arms had no idea what was happening.
"Yaaaah! Who is this crazy old man?!" Eren thrashed wildly, face burning red.
"Old man?!" Zeke nearly dropped him. Strange uncle…?
The words pierced deeper than any blade.
His father had once said the same when glimpsing Zeke through Eren's eyes in the Paths.
'How could Zeke be such a weird uncle?'
To hear it again—from his own little brother, no less—it was crushing.
"Not uncle!" Zeke barked desperately. "Call me brother! Brother, you hear?!"
But Eren only kicked harder, pounding at his chest. "Let me go, you creep!"
Zeke's hand brushed his chin. Ah. Stubble. Two sleepless days of marching and fighting had left him scruffy again. A curse. Too much hair, always too much hair.
No wonder… I must shave before I meet Father. I won't let him call me a weird uncle again this time. Not this time.
…
Behind them, the three young Warriors had finally caught up.
Reiner's jaw dropped. "What in the world is our captain doing?"
Annie's face twisted, unreadable. "…Looks like… hugging. Lifting. Kissing."
Bertolt went pale, sweat breaking out across his forehead. "That kid's… about our age. W-what if he had tried that with us during the trip?!"
The other two froze, the thought dawning like lightning. A chill ran down their spines. We're lucky. Very lucky.
…
Eren's struggle only grew more frantic. "Put me down, you perverted old man!"
Grimacing, Zeke reluctantly set him back onto the crate.
"Why are children so fierce nowadays?" he muttered. "Shouldn't you be innocent, cute little pigeons? Your face is still so round…"
Unable to help himself, he reached forward and pinched Eren's cheeks, stretching them like dough.
Eren slapped his hands away, furious. "Where the hell did you come from?! Who kisses kids—no, who kisses boys like that?! Pervert!"
Zeke flinched as though stabbed. "No—listen, I—"
But his words cut short.
A killing intent washed over him, sharp as winter steel.
Instinct saved him; his hand shot down and caught the small fist aimed at his gut.
He looked down at the attacker.
A girl. Small, pale, her delicate features half-hidden by a red scarf.
Long black hair framed her face, but her eyes—black, burning—stabbed at him like blades.
"Don't… bully Eren," she said, voice trembling but deadly.
Mikasa Ackerman.
Zeke's throat went dry. Even this tiny, she carried that aura.
The kick came next, sharp and fast. He could have dodged—but reflexively he reached out instead, steadying her skirt with one hand as he blocked with the other.
"Girls shouldn't be doing high kicks in skirts," he muttered, eyes shut tight as if to swear innocence.
In his mind, alarms screamed. This is my sister-in-law. This is my sister-in-law. Protect her dignity.
Protect my brother's future. Remember that.
Mikasa stumbled back, cheeks red. He had blocked every strike effortlessly—and worse, he had caught her skirt.
Before she could gather herself again, another shout rang out.
"Don't bully Mikasa!"
Zeke opened his eyes just in time to see Eren charging, firewood raised like a club.
The boy swung with all his might, the stick cracking down onto Zeke's head.
Stars exploded across his vision.
…
From the sidelines, Annie sighed. "So much for keeping a low profile."
Reiner pinched the bridge of his nose. "Our captain's insane…"
Bertolt whispered, horrified, "What if the Survey Corps sees this?"
…
Zeke staggered, rubbing his head, a crooked smile forming despite the pain.
Even in this tiny form, his brother burned with the same reckless spirit. Fierce, wild, impossible to tame.
"My little wild pigeon," he murmured under his breath, almost tenderly.
…