Seeing Grisha Yeager slowly regain consciousness, Zeke finally exhaled the breath he'd been holding. "Are you okay?" he asked softly.
"I'm fine…" Grisha murmured, though his trembling voice betrayed him. Seeing the concern in his son's eyes, he began to wonder—had he been wrong all along?
Maybe Zeke hadn't come here to start a war. Maybe the attack on the city last night had nothing to do with him.
Maybe… when his son walked toward him just now, eyes filled with pain, he wasn't coming as an enemy—but as the little boy who once cried when he fell and reached out for his father's comfort.
Grisha wanted to say something, but his throat constricted with grief. All he could do was open his arms and step forward.
When he pulled Zeke into an embrace, the younger man froze. He hadn't expected this—not here, not now. His first instinct was to push him away, but then he felt it: the shuddering sobs against his shoulder, the weight of a man who had carried too much regret.
Zeke stayed still.
So, you can cry too, old man.
He had thought this man had long forgotten his mother—after all, Grisha had a new life here: a beautiful wife, a little son, a peaceful home. Who would still think of the wife who'd been turned into a man-eating Titan?
Yet now, Zeke realized that his father had been living with that pain, hiding it behind his smiles.
A cowardly pain.
A silent pain.
A father's pain.
He didn't push him away, but when he glanced past Grisha's shoulder and saw Eren, he felt the urge to tear it all apart.
Then he noticed the stares. The townspeople were whispering, eyes wide with disbelief.
"No way…" Carla Yeager gasped, covering her mouth. She stared at the two men hugging in the middle of the street. Did she hear it right?
Zeke had called Grisha "Dad."
Not "Doctor." Not "Uncle."
Dad.
She blinked, praying she had misheard, but Grisha didn't deny it. Instead, he hugged Zeke tighter.
They're father and son?
Her heart pounded painfully. If that was true, then what did that make her? And Eren?
Since the day she'd met Grisha, he had never mentioned having a son. Never a word about a child this old. Yet when she thought about it now—the familiarity with the medicine chest, his knowledge of Grisha's habits, the way he had treated her and Eren like family—it all made a horrible kind of sense.
"I… I broke up a family," she whispered faintly, feeling dizzy. "I made a child lose his father…"
"No way?!" Hannes gawked, eyes bulging. "Grisha actually has a son this old?!"
"Wait, so that guy is really my brother?" Eren asked, his voice trembling. He'd half-believed Zeke before, but now that it was true, the revelation only made him feel more uneasy.
Hannes, the town gossip, rubbed his chin. "Ha! I knew it! Nobody's past is clean! Looks like our kindhearted doctor wasn't hiding from debt collectors after all, but from the debt of love!"
Around them, murmurs spread like wildfire.
"Dr. Grisha Yeager… had an illegitimate son?"
"Judging by the boy's age, he must've been born long before the doctor married Carla!"
"Even if that's true, it's disgraceful to abandon a child like that!"
"What a scandal! The kind doctor has a hidden past!"
Within minutes, the story had grown wings. The people forgot entirely about the gunfight with the Survey Corps, consumed instead by the delicious gossip of Shiganshina's biggest scandal.
Meanwhile, Zeke felt the trembling in his father's shoulders slowly fade. Grisha finally let go, his red eyes swollen and raw, his face streaked with tears he refused to shed.
"Are you sure you're okay?" Zeke asked quietly.
"I'm fine," Grisha said hoarsely, but the tremor in his voice betrayed him.
"Are you really?"
Grisha nodded. He wiped his face, drew in a shuddering breath, and looked at his son as though seeing him for the first time in years. "Zeke… you've grown up."
"Of course," Zeke replied dryly. "I'm twenty now." His tone sharpened. "Don't tell me you forgot my age."
"How could I?" Grisha said with a weary smile. "It's just… when I left, you were younger than Eren." His eyes softened with longing. "You look so much like your mother…"
"Don't mention my mother!" Zeke snapped, his voice like a whip.
The air froze. Grisha flinched.
He finally realized his mistake and nodded quickly. "You're right. I shouldn't have brought her up."
Suppressing his grief, he steadied himself. "Zeke, we need to talk."
"Exactly what I was thinking," Zeke said, his expression unreadable.
"We'll need somewhere private," Grisha murmured, glancing around.
"There's a hotel nearby," Zeke offered. "I have a room there. We can talk inside."
"Alright." Grisha turned, still dazed.
"Hey!" a Survey Corps soldier barked, stepping forward. "You're not going anywhere after what just happened! The second squad captain got beaten to a pulp!"
"Erwin promised I'd be allowed to speak with him," Zeke said sharply, frowning.
But the soldiers didn't move. Erwin Smith, standing nearby, scratched his head awkwardly. "Well… I did say that, but—"
"Keith," Grisha interrupted, turning to Keith Shadis, the current commander. "He's my son. Please. Just give us ten minutes."
Keith froze. "Your son?"
After a long silence, he sighed. "You bastard… What do you take Carla for? I worked so hard to convince myself to bless you, and now—Gah! Fine! Go!"
He waved them off angrily, cursing himself for being softhearted yet again.
With Keith's reluctant permission, the soldiers finally stepped aside. Zeke exhaled in relief. Whatever the gossip, whatever the whispers, none of it mattered now. What mattered was securing the Founding Titan's power before everything unraveled.
But deep down, another worry gnawed at him—Annie and Bertolt. They didn't know his real plan, and their impulsiveness could expose everything.
He turned toward them briefly. "I'll talk to him. Just stay put and don't draw attention."
"Got it," Annie said curtly. Bertolt nodded beside her.
Zeke led Grisha away toward the hotel, the whispers of the crowd following them like a dark tide.
Behind them, Keith finally barked an order. "Retreat! Back to camp!"
"What about Zeke?" a soldier asked.
"That's Grisha's son. Forget it!" Keith snapped. "And about him hitting Hange—well, she probably deserved it anyway!"
Erwin couldn't help a small, knowing smile. "Understood, sir."
As Keith led his men and the refugees out of Blanca, Erwin turned to his remaining scouts.
"Evacuate the civilians and keep an eye on the hotels. I have a feeling this town won't stay quiet for long."
"Yes, sir!" the First Squad saluted.
Meanwhile, Hange—her face still swollen from Zeke's earlier outburst—stood beside the now-empty cart. She sighed softly, brushing the tarp that once covered Dina Fritz's body.
"So," she murmured, almost to herself, "your name was Dina, huh…"
The wind carried her words away. Somewhere in the distance, thunder rumbled—a storm brewing over a family's fractured truth.
...
Join my P@treon for advance chapters and special content!
[email protected]/AdrianRoss