𓆩 A POTATO, A CRIME, AND A SCOUT 𓆪

The Survey Corps headquarters, early morning. For once, the barracks were relatively peaceful. No alarms. No Titans. No imminent expedition threatening to turn breakfast into everyone's last meal.

A beautiful, suspiciously peaceful morning.

Which was precisely why Connie Springer immediately became suspicious when he entered the mess hall and found Sasha Blouse sitting at a table, looking entirely too innocent.

"Sasha."

She slowly lowered the bread she'd been eating.

"Connie."

"Where's my breakfast?"

Sasha blinked. Once. Twice. Then she glanced at the empty plate beside her.

"That's a very philosophical question."

"YOU ATE IT?!"

"I prefer the term rescued it from neglect."

Connie looked ready to report a crime against humanity.

Across the room, Jean Kirschtein nearly choked on his drink laughing. Someone at another table muttered a prayer for the kitchen staff. And Sasha, apparently deciding that the situation required immediate tactical retreat, snatched one final piece of bread and sprang to her feet.

"THE STRONGEST SURVIVE, CONNIE!"

"THAT'S MY BREAD, YOU ABSOLUTE MENACE!"

She darted between the tables, laughing, just as the mess hall doors opened.

Sasha skidded to a halt. A new face. Her eyes flickered towards the newcomer, then—traitorously—towards the bread still clutched in her hand. For one brief moment, she seemed to consider whether sharing it would be worth the sacrifice.

"...Hey!" she called, her usual bright grin returning. "You're new, aren't you?"

She tilted her head curiously.