"Aunt Carla, I heard they're handing out food outside.
I'll go bring some back for everyone."
Evan Cross checked the time in his head.
Bread distribution should've started.
For the past two days, Evan, Eren, and Mikasa had gone together.
But with Eren still feverish and shaken, Evan offered to go alone.
Carla smiled gratefully.
"Thank you, Evan. Eren seems to have a slight fever…
I'll go ask the neighbors if they can spare some rice.
Kids can't live on bread every day."
"Mom, I'm fine!"
Eren puffed up, annoyed at being treated like a child.
"Evan, I'm coming with you."
"Lie down."
Carla pushed her stubborn son back into bed with a firm tone.
At that moment, Mikasa stood up, wrapped her scarf tighter, and said:
"I'll go with Evan.
Eren… listen to your mother."
Faced with both Carla and Mikasa, Eren deflated instantly.
Mikasa walked to the door.
"Let's go."
Evan nodded and followed.
The food distribution area was a narrow street near the port
the temporary warehouse for refugee relief.
Meaning:
nowhere near enough to feed tens of thousands for long.
As Evan and Mikasa entered, they saw a massive crowd
gaunt faces, ragged clothes, hollow eyes.
Fear clung to every face.
No one had truly recovered from the Titan attack.
"Hey! Stay in line!"
"Shut up! I haven't eaten since last night!"
A starving man tried to cut in line.
It instantly turned into a brawl.
Mikasa frowned, uneasy.
"We're not exactly safe yet."
Evan stayed quiet, but he agreed.
She was right.
Yes, they survived the Titans.
But survival didn't mean comfort.
Humanity had around a million people inside the three walls.
Wall Maria alone accounted for a third.
Now tens of thousands were crammed inside Wall Rose
But worse:
Most farmers lived in Wall Maria.
They produced the majority of humanity's food.
Now those farmers were refugees too.
No crops.
More mouths.
Less supply.
The math was grim.
"Evan! Mikasa!"
A familiar voice called out.
Armin sprinted over, clutching four loaves of bread.
"Look! I got these!"
He opened his arms proudly.
"Grandpa said these are the children's rations.
The official gave us some extra.
Here take them!"
"Thanks."
Evan pulled out a clean cloth and carefully wrapped three loaves,
passing them to Mikasa.
"You two go back first.
I'm heading to the river."
"The river?" Armin blinked.
"To take a bath?"
Before Evan could answer
Mikasa looked at him, reading between the lines.
"You're going to check if there are fish."
"Yeah."
Evan nodded.
"Aunt Carla's right.
Our bodies are still those of children.
Bread alone isn't enough.
And…"
He pointed toward the desperate crowd.
"The food won't last long.
We need to prepare for the worst."
Mikasa thought for a moment, then nodded.
"I'll go with you."
"Me too!" Armin raised a hand.
The three returned to the stable to drop off the bread,
then headed to the port the same one they'd arrived through days ago.
Reaching the river, Evan scanned the trees nearby.
"I'll go find a branch to make a fishing rod.
Mikasa, Armin look for worms for bait."
He started to move
But Armin froze.
"Fishing… rod?
Worms?
What are those?"
Evan stared at him, thinking he was joking.
But when he turned
Mikasa was giving him the same confused expression.
"How do you guys normally fish?"
"Fish… need to be caught with a rod?" Armin asked, bewildered.
"We use spears. Or nets. That's the only way."
"…"
Evan blinked.
He looked at Mikasa.
She nodded.
"We use spears.
What's a fishing rod?"
"…"
Evan went silent.
This world…
was so damn primitive.