A lot of damage, indeed. Reiner tries not to think about it too much. Tries not to get lost in which instincts are his and which come from his predecessors, generations of acting as a shield influencing him whether he likes it or not. He was trained to run toward danger, trained to take the hits that others might not survive. So was his predecessor. So was theirs, and theirs, and theirs.

How much has his Titan's purpose shaped Reiner's personality? How much stems from the Armored? How much comes from Marcel's sacrifice? How much is born of Reiner's base desire to take care of his loved ones?

Reiner didn't deserve to inherit his Armor; he knows that. Yet he can't imagine having any other Titan. Even when Marley's mission twists his Titan's purpose, transforming a shield into a battering ram, Reiner still can't imagine letting it go. What would he be without it?

"You didn't make things weird," Reiner says. No weirder than usual, anyway. They're young men plucked from different times, friends-turned-enemies who have turned into something else, their feelings for each other constantly at war with the odds stacked against them. Of course things are going to get weird.

A hand reaches out to brush Eren's, seeking contact, however briefly. It makes grabbing another konpeito difficult, what with having to hold the bowl and grab a candy at the same time. But thankfully, Reiner has big hands.

When he looks down at the yellow konpeito, he smirks, then meets Eren's eyes. "Dare."