"How the hell," you utter, "did you manage to come to that conclusion?"

Armin's silent for a moment. He's gauging your reaction, you realize- trying to see if you're genuinely pissed off at him and if it's worth pursuing. A light breeze moves through the porch and you sigh, swiping some of your hair out of the way. You glance back at the blond kid; he's thinking.

"Well?" you say dryly.

"Well," Armin repeats softly, glancing up at the sky. "Somehow, for some reason, you always seem to... know more than us and less than us at the same time."

You raise an eyebrow at him.

He takes the hint and continues. "Um, like when we spar," he says quickly. "Or the ODM gear. Or knife handling. It all comes so easy to you and you can never really explain how you know it. But then we go to talk about the king, and the whole system within the walls, and you always seem more lost than the rest of us."

"Stalking me in the classroom?"