For the third night in a row, Mikasa couldn't fall asleep. She sat up in bed, looking around the shared room. Moonlight spilled in from the windows, illuminating the sleeping forms of the rest of her squad in their beds. There was Armin's golden hair barely visible amidst the blankets he was huddled in, and Eren sprawled out over his entire bed. Someone from the other end of the room was snoring. It seemed like she was the only one who was sleepless after the long work day.
She wrapped her scarf around her neck absentmindedly and quietly got out of bed, her bare feet barely audible on the wooden floorboards as she walked past her sleeping comrades. The heavy door slid open with a soft groan of annoyance and clicked closed with a whisper behind her. Without a light to guide her, Mikasa carefully made her way through the empty house.
How strange everything looks without people and sunshine to fill the space, she mused. And how oddly sad.
Everything seemed to have happened so quickly. The events of the past months have blended with each other in a never-ending stream of horror and tragedy. She was sure she should be feeling something; anger, sadness, disbelief, anything other than this dull ache that seems to have made a permanent home at the bottom of her heart.
And now, here they all are. Well, those who are still alive and human anyways. The Special Operations Squad of Captain Levi Rivaille, what an honor. So why does it feel so meaningless?
The chilly night air settled around her and she shivered. Wrapping her arms around herself, she continued her aimless wandering in the lonely rooms. The walls seemed taller at night, and the ceiling seemed to disappear into the darkness, Mikasa noticed.
As she opened the door to the adjourning room, she was surprised to find the warm glow of light softly tinting the walls. Further into the chamber was a single figure sitting with their back to her, silhouetted by the dull radiance of a single candle. She curiously crept closer. The shadows danced idly around the rafters and surrounded them.
To her surprise, it was none other than Captain Levi himself. It was difficult to believe this was the same man as the calm leader and demanding taskmaster everyone has seen recently. The candle casted tired shadows over his face, the weary slope of his shoulders drooping towards the ground. Without his normal uniform and gear, he suddenly looked very small in her eyes.
This is the look of a man carrying the burden of the world. Mikasa thought to herself.
Not wanting to intrude upon a private moment, she stopped a few feet away from him. He must have sensed her presence, for he turned slightly and looked up. For a moment their eyes met. Before she could apologize and excuse herself, he gave a curt nod and looked back at the flickering flame of the candle. A dense silence slowly settled between the two of them as they lost themselves within their own thoughts.
Without preamble or warning, he asked softly, "Ackerman, how far would you go for Eren?"
Mikasa looked up in surprise, but he was still gazing at the candle and refused eye contact. "I would die for him," she answered adamantly.
He simply smiled sadly, as if he knew her answer even before he gave voice to the question. "But would you let the others die for him?" He continues. "Arlert and Braus and Kirstein, any of them?"
The question seemed to linger in the space between them, its simplicity masking the weight of the words. Suddenly there seemed to be no time for her to think and no space for her answer to form.
"No." The word dropped from her lips like a stone. "No, I would not."
"I did. I let them all die for him," his face was turned away from her, and she had to strain to hear his words. "While he was still a stranger to me."
There was no bitterness in his voice, just oceans of regret. He bowed his head forward and dark hair tumbled forward to obscure his eyes. It was then when she realized that under the haughty bearing and the brilliance, humanity's strongest solder was just a man. A man broken by the sacrifices he was forced to make and the people he had to leave behind. He protected Eren at all costs, just as she herself would have done. But his orders came from a man and hers came from her heart; and the heart has a stronger will than any word or law.
In that moment, she thought she understood him. Suddenly she wants to say something, but no words seemed sufficient. Perhaps a touch could say what words could not, but she hesitates, her fingers hovering over his shoulder.
Mikasa drops her arm back to her side. Better to leave a man with his own memories.
As she turns to leave, he remarked, seemingly to no one in particular, "They never leave, you know. When you close your eyes, they are there. When you dream, they linger at its edges, and their accusing voices haunt your every waking moment." He sighed the sigh of a man aged by regret. "One day you might stop regretting your choices, but they'll never stop haunting you."
She left him there, still lost among the ashes of his ghosts. The house was just as empty as before, but now the shadows seemed to call out to her, repeating the same question.
Would you? Would you?
Eren was still sleeping peacefully when she returned. As did Armin, and Jean, and Sasha, and Connie, and Christa, all lost in the forgetful bliss of their dreams.
If you had to choose...
No. She refused to even consider the option. She will save them all.
She must.
