Alright, guys! This is it. This is the reason I pretty much stopped updating my other SnK fic (which is just an anthology anyway, so no worries). This fic is the first multi-chaptered one I've written in years and so I was determined to finish it completely before uploading it, so yeah.

I will upload new chapters every two days or so, since the chapters are already done! :) Expect around twenty chapters, I think?

Basically, this fic is mostly missing scenes, most of them (but not all of them) revolving around the moon as a theme. You'll see what I mean as I go along. Chapter lengths will vary, as I have literally written this fic in successive "arcs" comprising of various "scenes". This means that some chapters may have a single "scene", whereas others may have more (like this one). Some chapters continue from the previous one, others start a new arc. Oh, and there are a few bits of flashback as well. You'll know them when you see them.

Sorry, I'll try and make this as little confusing as possible. For now, I have no chapter titles, but I'll label them by arcs so you won't get confused when the next arc begins.

Wow, here goes.

Hope you guys like it! :)

Disclaimer: Not me, not mine.

Reaching for the Moon

A Pale Distraction - Part I

Back then, the days were so similar that one melted into another with absolutely no change in happenings or circumstances. Which was why she never could remember the exact day it happened.

They had just been moved to new farmland in the west. The climate there was colder, the soil more rocky. This only meant more rigorous work in the fast-approaching cold weather, since the larger rocks had to be removed before the digging, hoeing and planting.

It was the middle of the day, the warmest it could get, when they heard the cry. Armin, who was next to her, looked up with her at the noise.

Immediately, her thoughts went to Eren, who had been assigned to that field. But Eren was far away from the centre of the commotion, and had turned to look, too.

"What is it?" Armin asked anxiously.

Mikasa, who was the tallest of them now, stood on her tiptoes. "A woman, on the ground." Mikasa and Armin glanced at each other, and nodded. They joined the crowd of people making their way to the noise.

Eren met up with them outside the circle of people. "What's happening?"

Mikasa told him what she had seen. Then, making good use of their sharp elbows and thin frames, the three of them pushed and nudged their way to the centre.

The woman lying on the ground could have been of any age -she could have been thirty, or fifty. Her left arm ended at her elbow in a crude lump of cloth. Her bare, muddy feet were stretched out behind her, and Mikasa shuddered. They were raw red and covered in blisters, several of which were oozing pus. She was moaning softly.

Before anyone could say anything, the overseer's shrill voice sounded outside the circle of onlookers. "What the hell do you slackers think you're doing?"

The people divided immediately to make a path for the man. He approached the woman and looked down at her with a disgusted expression.

"Get up."

The woman began to cry again. "Please, sir. I can't anymore. My feet-"

"I said, get up! You've already been given a cushy task because you're missing an arm. You have both your legs, don't you?"

Mikasa understood. Normally, the three of them looked forward to the days they were assigned the task of kicking up and loosening the rocky soil. It was hell on the feet, which were enclosed in iron-tipped wooden clogs, but gave their backs and arms some respite from the regular farming jobs. They could also manage to work together and could have long conversations without it being considered 'slacking'.

However, this woman clearly had not been assigned a rotational schedule of tasks. Being crippled, she had been assigned endless kicking, stomping and digging in rough, splintered wooden clogs.

The woman began to wail.

"Get up, you lazy ass! Get up, unless you want to starve!"

Next to her, Mikasa saw Eren clench his fists. She turned to tell him to leave it be, when to both their surprise, Armin spoke up.

"But sir, she can't work anymore."

The overseer whipped around. "Who was that?"

Armin, always the runt, stepped forward, his voice timid but his eyes blazing. "She can't work anymore, sir."

The man loomed over them. "Do you dare question my authority?" Mikasa reached out and grasped Eren's hand tightly. She had been right -Eren was quivering with anger.

A bead of sweat appeared on Armin's forehead. "I only mean, sir, that even if you made her, her work would be sub par. Look at her feet, sir."

The overseer, caught out in a logical argument, seemed surprised. Armin, sensing his hesitation, ploughed on, "If her work is shoddy, it would only mean more work for us to redo it. We'll be behind schedule if we'll need to redo tasks before the planting."

"I know all that, boy," the man said sullenly. As expected, the man's inferiority complex made him defensive against Armin's clear reasoning. Mikasa hoped Armin would shut up now, before the defensiveness would turn into violence.

"Well, looks like you've got the rest of the day off, slacker," the overseer finally told the woman. "In punishment, you won't be getting your rations today. Take her to the infirmary!" The command was barked to no-one in particular, so Armin rushed forward and helped the woman sit up.

Meanwhile, the overseer looked around. "And what do you sloths think you're doing?!" Everyone winced and slipped back to their positions quickly. Mikasa turned to Eren. "Eren, stay. I'll help them."

Before Eren could protest, she had slipped under the woman's shoulder, with Armin supporting the other one. Eren looked miffed at being left behind, but did not argue -three of them were not needed to help the woman.

"Slowly," Armin muttered in a soothing voice. "I'm sorry, but you have to bear this a little longer."

The woman seemed near fainting. "God bless you," she murmured.

The infirmary was on the far end of the fertile land. Their progress was slow, and more often than not, the woman's legs gave way and the two of them had to drag her forward painfully.

"Miss is there anyone we should inform? About you? To come see you at the infirmary…"

The woman rasped one word. "Alone."

Mikasa exchanged glances with Armin.

Soon, Armin, who seemed more worried with each passing step, spoke again. "Miss, I'm sorry, but… you're burning up. Are you sure your feet are the only problem?"

Mikasa had noticed, too, that a light sheen of sweat coated the woman's forehead. Her lips were chapped and she seemed only half-conscious at times. She had seen Eren's father work long enough to know that the woman had a high fever and was nearly delirious.

"You are kind, my child," the woman whispered. "My poor child." A sudden wail. "My poor, sweet child." She stumbled and they were dragging her again. Then her feet took hold and she tottered along with them. "So young…"

Armin didn't say anything after that. His eyes were brimming with tears. Mikasa wrapped her scarf tighter around her neck.

When they finally reached the infirmary, they were told they had to wait since all the beds were occupied.

Armin sat on the benches outside to wait next to the woman, who sagged onto him. Mikasa hovered nearby, a vague sense of distress creeping up on her.

"We should go, Armin."

"I'm not leaving her."

"Armin. We have to work."

"I'm not leaving her!"

"She could be contagious."

Armin shot her a look that made her look away, ashamed.

They were saved by the physician, who came to tell them they could now take the woman inside.

Armin made to follow her, but the physician stopped him. "And what is she to you?"

Armin answered without hesitation, "She's our Aunt Maria." The man squinted at them, both so different in looks, and to top it all, the woman had olive skin with chestnut hair. But Armin would not be deterred. He matched the physician's gaze with a confident one of his own.

As Mikasa had expected, Armin won.

They followed the woman in, fussing over their 'Aunt' as they led her to a small cot in the end of the large hall.

Her examination did not take very long. "She is malnourished. How long has she had this fever?"

Armin hesitated, but Mikasa answered this time. She tried to remember Uncle Grisha's patients and said, "Five days, maybe more."

The physician nodded as if that made sense and Armin flashed her a grateful look.

"Why didn't you come sooner, you silly woman?" The physician asked her gruffly.

To everyone's surprise, she answered him. "What was the point? Why would it matter, now that… they're gone!"

She burst into loud sobs and patients around her stirred and groaned at the sound. They tried to calm her in vain; her wails soon turned to despairing howls and finally, the physician had to administer her a sedative.

"She lost her family in the fall of Wall Maria," Armin said slowly as the physician led them through the maze of cots and out of the infirmary. "Her children…" Mikasa glanced back at the now sleeping woman. She knew Armin was not making this up.

"The usual story," the physician sighed. "Off you go then, brats. You'll have to earn her food for her now."

Armin nodded. "Yes. We'll be back in the evening."

Mikasa glanced at Armin -this needed discussing -as they left the darkness of the infirmary into the bright sunlight. And so, without noticing it, she stepped on something small and soft that let out a hair-raising yowl. She gasped and leaped aside, even as the thing ran in the opposite direction.

"Just a cat," Armin gasped, as they watched the white blur disappear in a collection of buildings.

"Stupid animal," she snapped viciously, surprising Armin.

"It didn't do anything to you," he said mildly.

"No," she conceded. But her heart was still racing at the yowl she had heard. It had sounded familiar, just like… like fake Aunt Maria's screaming. She did not like that thought.

"Armin," she changed the subject. "You cannot give her your food."

Armin frowned his stubborn frown, one that meant there was no arguing with him. "You can't stop me. I won't eat anyway."

"Don't be ridiculous," she said, and continued monotonously before Armin could argue, "we'll all put some food aside. Between the three of us, we should be able to feed her."

His frown cleared and he looked pleased -actually pleased -that he would have to share the little food they earned everyday. Mikasa could not understand it. "Thank you, Mikasa."

She simply nodded.

After dinner, Eren came with them to the infirmary. They had a loaf of bread, a pack of crackers and half a mug of milk for fake Aunt Maria. A decent meal.

None of them were talking. Mikasa kept rearranging the scarf around her neck -she needed it to be tighter, warmer.

"Are you cold?" Eren asked her, noticing her nervous movements.

"A little." She admitted.

Eren looked at the ground. "We'll be there soon. There's a fireplace at the infirmary."

She simply nodded. Their fake Aunt was clearly bearing down on all of their thoughts. When they reached the long, low building, they were surprised to find a crowd gathered at the door.

"What's going on?" Eren frowned.

She felt a strange sense of foreboding. Before she could voice it, the crowd parted and the physician from the morning stepped out. "There you are!" He looked relieved. "Come on, children. Hurry along now."

He did not seem to notice there were three children now, and pushed them through the people and into the infirmary. There was a second, smaller crowd of people blocking the view of a bed in the far end.

Mikasa suddenly wanted to run away. Eren had been right, there was a fire, but she felt colder than she had all day. As if in a dream, she let herself be herded to the bed in the corner. The people stood aside for them, and the three of them looked down at the figure resting in it.

Fake Aunt Maria was dead. Her face was bloated, her lips were blue and her neck was badly bruised. On Eren's other side, Armin let out a low whimper.

The physician stood next to them. "I'm sorry I made you see her. I need to do my paperwork, see or I'll be in trouble." His voice was matter of fact. "So you'll attest to it? This woman was one Maria… what was her name again?"

Even in the midst of this horror, Armin was ever the quick-witted one. "We don't know. We only know her -knew her as Aunt Maria."

"And she was from Shiganshina like you?"

"Yes."

"What a pity." The physician scribbled something on his papers, then shook his head. "She could've at least stayed on for you kids…"

"She didn't have to." Eren's voice was tight with emotion. "She's at peace now."

The physician asked them a few more desultory questions for his paperwork before letting them go. They made their way to the living quarters without thinking about it, and before she knew it, Mikasa found herself standing outside the huge stone barn where they slept every night.

Armin was crying -he had started to cry at the infirmary and never stopped. Eren punched a tree. "Dammit!" His eyes were glistening with tears, too.

Mikasa wasn't crying. Instead, her eyes seemed to burn and her head was starting to ache again. She kept seeing fake Aunt Maria's bruised neck every time she blinked, and suddenly, the scarf seemed to be strangling her. She tugged at it feverishly until it wasn't wrapped around her neck anymore and just hung limply on her shoulders.

They stood in the dark and in silence for a long time. Then, wordlessly, Armin left them, trudging to the door of the barn like he was an old man.

Eren punched the tree again, half-heartedly this time. "Dammit." He sniffed. "She needn't have died."

"You said she's at peace now," she mumbled tonelessly.

"I had to say something to get that man to shut up." Mikasa didn't answer, but she agreed. The physician had been tactless and annoying.

"This is all their fault," Eren said in a low growl. "Those damned Titans."

She saw his fists clench, and suddenly she felt drained, exhausted.

"Go to bed, Eren."

He didn't respond immediately, but with a final sniff, he muttered, "Yeah." He paused at the door. "Aren't you coming?"

"I'll be there in a few minutes."

Eren hesitated, his eyes sweeping over her small form in the only lamp, and at the darkness that swelled around her.

"I'll be fine," she insisted.

He looked at the ground. "Yeah." Then he left her, gently sliding the heavy barn door shut behind him.

Mikasa let out a breath she didn't know she was holding. She herself wasn't certain why she wanted to be left alone. It was just the thought of going back inside, to the innumerable worn faces, to the stuffiness and the quiet, helpless despair of the sleeping refugees -she felt her throat constrict as though fake Aunt Maria was tightening a noose around her neck, too.

She was just a fake Aunt, she told herself. She had only seen her for the first time this morning. Why was she so affected?

It was like Aunt Carla dying again, she realised. The same, brutal, pointless death. Just like her parents-

She stumbled over to the tree that Eren had been punching, and leaned against it. Her hand absently went to the scarf sitting loosely on her shoulders.

Why… why did the Titans attack? Why did it have to happen? This wasn't how it was supposed to be. People were supposed to be happy. The unlucky few would have some tragedy strike them, hit rock bottom, but somehow make it back up to the top to live happily ever after. She thought she had hit rock bottom two years ago. She had, and she would've stayed there had it not been for Eren.

She grasped her scarf tightly. So why was she at rock bottom again? How was it fair that she had to experience tragedy twice? How many more times did she have to face it?

The world is a cruel place, she reminded herself. Cruel, but-

"Meow."

She started violently. What in the world-?

"Mrow." The sound was more insistent. Mikasa looked around, but saw nothing. Then, she realised the sound hadn't come from around her. It was from above her.

She looked up into the tree's foliage, and sure enough, saw a gleaming white cat high up in the branches.

"Meow," it said again, petulantly.

She squinted, but she was sure it was the same cat she had stepped on that afternoon.

She stared at the cat and the cat stared back at her, its eyes wide and black. Then the cat let out a long, drawn-out sound. "Miaaa-aaaou."

Almost as if it were chiding her.

"I -I didn't do it on purpose!" Mikasa burst out. "You shouldn't have been skulking about near my feet anyway!" Then she felt the idiocy of her act -as if the cat could understand what she was saying!

The cat certainly behaved like it understood. With a small squeak that could have meant 'Don't do it again!' the cat skipped down from branch to branch until it landed nimbly on its feet right in front of her.

"Meow," it said loudly, eyeing her hands. She looked down, and saw that she was still holding her pack of crackers. She felt a sudden pull in her gut, and she remembered the number of times she and Eren and Armin had had to battle hunger, now that they were refugees.

Before she knew it, she tore open the pack, crumbled a thin cracker and put the pile on the ground between her and the cat. The cat stepped forward, sniffed at the powdered pile, then began to lick it, slowly at first, and then with more gusto.

The first cracker was done before long, and the second followed unthinkingly. Mikasa simply watched the cat eat, some strong emotion welling up inside her.

A quick glance told her that Eren had left the milk next to the barn door. She retrieved the jar and placed it in front of the cat. The mouth was wide enough to fit the cat's face. As the cat thrust its face inside energetically, she realised it wasn't a cat. It was still just a kitten.

Tears finally welled up in her eyes. Slowly one, then two, then several slipped down her cheeks. She reached out to scratch the kitten behind the ears. It began to purr under her touch, vibrating softly.

The kitten had its fill, stopped, then without warning, jumped up to balance itself between Mikasa's chest and shoulder.

"Mrow." It purred softly, its fur and whiskers tickling her skin.

Her tears stopped abruptly. Slowly, trying not to upset its position on her, she unraveled, then wrapped her scarf again around her neck, tucking the kitten in. The kitten budged a little to make itself comfortable, then purred even more. The scarf no longer felt restricting. It was warm again.

The world was a cruel place.

But beautiful.

She stood up, sniffed and wiped the tears away. She placed the remaining crackers and put it carefully in her pocket, replaced the empty milk jar next to the barn door, and went to bed.

A/N: Fun fact, this fic started as a one-shot which was the chapter you just read. Obviously, the ending left a lot of unanswered questions (KITTY!), so expect more soon!

As for the timeline, this takes place some six months or so after Armin's grandfather is sent out on the Reclamation expedition. Somewhere in winter 846.

The title of the story is based on the idiom "to reach for the moon", which means "to try to attain something particularly difficult" (from freedictionarydotcom). What is Mikasa trying to attain, hmm?

Mikasa's POV is the sole one you'll get throughout the story, so I hope I've done her justice, and not made her too OOC. I'd like this fic to be as canon as possible, so yeah. :)

Please review if and when you can!