Surprise, surprise
SUMMARY: The one thing that sucked about having a crush on Mikasa Ackerman—other than the unrequited part—was the fact that you weren't the only one. High School AU, Jean-centric. One-sided Jean x Mikasa, Mikasa x Levi.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Alright here's my weird high school AU that I mentioned in "Let's Play Pretend". And of course it's going to be Mikasa x Levi. Did you really expect me to ship anything else? Nah, I ship Mikasa x Sasha, Mikasa x Jean, Ymir x Krista, etc, etc.
DISCLAIMER: Don't own.
Let it be said that the one thing that sucked about being in love with Mikasa Ackerman—other than the fact that it was completely requited—was that you weren't the only one.
Jean Kirstein stomped through the halls of his high school rather impatiently, the camera dangling around his neck pulling with every step. "Marco!" He yelled to his friend.
Marco Bott banged his locker door shut. "Yes, Jean?"
Jean slammed the flat of his hand against the locker, wincing as his hand made sharp contact with the cool metal. "I need your advice."
"Is it that shirt?" Asked Marco. "Because you already know how I feel about plaid."
Jean rolled his eyes. "No, Marco. It's not the shirt. It's—hey Mikasa!"
All five feet and seven inches of Mikasa Ackerman walked up next to Marco Bott, her weathered book bag hanging off her delicate looking—but incredibly strong—shoulders. "Hello."
"Didn't see you there!" Jean said as he rubbed an anxious hand behind his head. "Can I help you?"
"Yes," said Mikasa. "Excuse me."
"What?"
"You're standing in front of her locker, Jean," said Marco helpfully. "Come on." Grabbing his best friend by the arm, he yanked Jean away. Practically throwing him into the A/V room, Marco followed and shut the door behind them.
"What was that for?" Jean asked angrily, cradling his sore arm against his chest. "And why are we in the A/V room? I thought you already had a meeting this week."
"You were about to make a fool of yourself." Marco casually sat down in one of the mismatched chairs. "And we're here because I need to copy your biology homework and the cafeteria's too loud for me to concentrate."
"You need to concentrate to copy homework?" Jean asked, handing over his completed assignment.
"And you were about to make a fool of yourself," reiterated Marco. "As your best friend, I couldn't let that happen."
"I was not!" Jean protested.
Marco gave Jean a withering look. "You have a spaghetti stain on your shirt and you're not wearing matching socks."
Jean looked down and sure enough, there was a dark red splotch just underneath the pocket on the right side of his plaid button-down. "To be fair, it's laundry day and everything's in the wash. Besides," Jean said, "Mikasa's not one to care about looks."
"Yeah, but it's still kind of embarrassing to ask the girl of your dreams out when you look like you haven't showered for five days."
"I'm an artist," Jean said defensively. "And I shower. This is just my look."
Marco paused from his copying. He looked up at Jean. "Just because you're a photographer for the school yearbook does not mean you're an 'artist.'"
"It does so!" Argued Jean. "Just because you got a 'D' on an art assignment doesn't mean you get to insult my work like that."
Marco rolled his eyes and resumed his work. "You hang around soccer games and try to take pictures of Mikasa, but chicken out and end up photographing Armin Arlelt for two hours. That's hardly art."
"Well, Armin is a very beautiful person," retorted Jean.
"Whatever man. Here." Marco handed back Jean's assignment.
"Thanks." Jean shoved the paper back into his perfectly organized binder. "Hey, do you think I should ask Mikasa to the Spring Fling?"
"Do you want my honest opinion on this?" Marco pulled a peanut butter and pickle sandwich from his lunch bag.
"Oh course."
"That's a terrible idea," said Marco through a mouthful of bread. "That's the worst idea you've had since the fifth grade when you thought you should get a buzz cut just because Connie Springer had one. You just can't pull off that kind of look like he can."
"Dude!" Jean jammed his plastic spoon into the bed of rice inside his thermos. "I think it's a great idea. Support me on this, please?"
"As your friend, I have to let you know that this is not going to be a good idea." Marco shook his head. He took a healthy swig from his water bottle. "She's going to reject you and you're going to get your heart broken faster than the time you thought Krista Lenz was heterosexual."
"What is this? 'Shit on Jean Kirstein' Day?"
"Nope," said Marco. "That's next Tuesday."
Jean tossed an eraser at his friend, who ducked it half-heartedly. "I'm going to ask her. And you're going to be my wingman."
"I don't like the sound of this." Marco pointed at Jean with his bottle. "But if it's going to make you happy, I'll be there."
"You're the best," said Jean.
"I know," agreed Marco. "And in return, you're going to be my wingman for when I come out."
"Out of where?" Jean asked, his voice muffled by the rice and chicken.
"Narnia," said Marco sarcastically. "Out of the closet, you idiot. Where else would I come out of?"
Jean held his hand out. "You've got yourself a deal."
"Good."
"Are you ready for this?" Marco asked Jean. "You don't have to do it, you know. You avoid all the heartbreak by asking a nice girl. Like Sasha."
Jean clutched the box of chocolates tightly. "I'm going to do it," he said, watching Mikasa walk down the hall to her locker. "It's now or never."
"Call her," said Marco.
"What?" Jean's brow scrunched up. "No, this wasn't part of the plan."
"If you're not going to call her, she's going to walk right by you."
"I'm not yelling out her name in the middle of the hall! Do you remember the last time that happened? She thought it was a fight challenge and someone nearly lost a hand!"
"Well, I'll do it," said Marco irritably. "Mikasa!"
Mikasa wheeled around. "Who said that?"
"Me!" Marco waved awkwardly. "Hey Mikasa."
"Hi," she said. "Can I help you with something?"
Marco pointed to Jean. "This is my friend, Jean."
"Hi John."
"Jean."
"That's what I said."
Marco shoved his friend forward. "Jean has something to give you."
Jean held out the box of chocolate-covered nuts like a newborn child about to be baptized. "Here!" He thrust them at Mikasa who had no choice but to accept.
"Thank you?" She said hesitantly, phrasing it like a question.
At that moment, Mikasa's adopted brother, Eren Jaeger, walked by. "Hey Mikasa," he said. "What're those?" He asked, gesturing to the box in her hands.
"Chocolate-covered nuts," she said. "Do you want some? I can't eat nuts. I'm allergic."
"Sure!" He beamed, taking them.
Jean looked at the pair, horror-struck.
"Thanks for the chocolates," said Eren to Mikasa.
She shook her head in response. "They were from that guy," she said, jutting a finger over her shoulder at the still shell-shocked Jean.
"No problem," said a falsely cheerful Marco to Mikasa and Eren. "We'll be seeing you guys around." Grabbing Jean by the scruff of his neck, Marco dragged him down the hall and up a flight of stairs. When they'd reached the landing between the first and second floors, Marco abruptly let go, causing Jean to slump to the ground. "Didn't I already tell you that was a bad idea?"
"You did," murmured Jean. "But I should've known that Mikasa was allergic to nuts. What if I killed her?" He looked at his hands in horror. "I would have murdered my crush."
Marco rolled his eyes. "You couldn't have known. Don't let it get you down. There will be more opportunities to ask her. You still have a week, you know."
"Next time," Jean promised, "next time I see her, I'll ask. Even if it's in a hall full of crowded people, I'll still ask!"
Marco winced. "Jean, I don't think that's a very good idea…"
"I'll do it!" Jean pumped his fist into the air. "The next time I see her, I'll do it!"
The next time Jean saw Mikasa was right in-between first and second period. The halls were full of people trying to get to their lockers. Jean had to push his way through several people, probably earning the ire of more than a few.
"Jean," said Marco. "There's Mikasa."
Jean gulped. "I'll wait until after school."
"You promised."
Jean glared at Marco. "Curse you and your elephant memory."
Marco shrugged. "Hey, it's good for some things. Now, ask her before you let this opportunity pass you by. If you wait too long, she's going to be asked by someone she actually might like and you're going to get all mopey again. I don't want to have to stage another 'let's stop Jean from dying his hair black' intervention."
Jean rolled his eyes. "Mikasa!" He called.
She didn't turn around. Jean's voice had gotten lost in the rushing crowd of students.
"MIKASA ACKERMAN!"
That got her attention. Everyone stopped, turning to look at Jean who flushed red all the way to the tips of his eyes. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out.
"Dude." Marco gently nudged him in the side.
Jean shook his head lightly. "Mikasa Ackerman! Will you go to the Spring Fling with me?"
All the students in the hallway started whispering. Some of them snickered behind hands, wondering which fool had fallen for the infamous Mikasa Ackerman, yet again. Some gave Mikasa jealous looks, envious of the fact that she had so many suitors. Some were even starting to take bets, wondering if this one boy would be the one to snag the ice queen.
Mikasa blinked, exchanging slightly confused glances with Eren. Armin, who stood next to the two, silently slapped a hand over his face. "I'm sorry," she said. "I'm already going with someone else."
"Oh," said Jean. "Well, um, sorry for inconveniencing you."
"No problem," said Mikasa. "Sorry I couldn't say yes, but I was already asked by someone else a while ago."
The students who'd earlier been so interested in their state of affairs, immediately dispersed. Once again, Mikasa had proven that she was completely unattainable.
"If you don't mind me asking," Jean pressed, "who're you going with?"
Mikasa pushed a lock of hair behind her ear. "I'm going with Armin."
It was the end of the day. Most of the students had already gone home and due to the fact that it was a Friday, no practices or games were taking place, leaving the bleachers empty, just the way Jean liked it.
Closing his math textbook, Jean shoved it in his backpack, making sure that the cover didn't get caught. "What time is it?" He asked himself as he pulled his cellphone from his pocket. His keys, being in the same place, were dragged out as well and because he wasn't grabbing onto them, they fell through the slats of the bleachers.
"Oh shit," he breathed, looking into the darkness underneath. "I can't see anything." He swung his backpack over his shoulder and took the steps down, two at a time. He watched the ground the entire time, hoping to see a flash of silver.
When he'd reached the bottom, he immediately headed for the side, knowing there was a large opening. As he walked into the darkness, he was greeted with a surprising sight.
Jean cleared his throat, causing the two entwined figures to jump apart. "Am I interrupting something?"
The shorter of the two untangled their hands from the taller one's hair. "No, but you will be if you don't leave."
As he squinted his eyes, Jean was able to recognize the posture and voice. It was Rivaille, also known as Levi or if you didn't like him, Ravioli, but only behind his back. Levi was an unparalleled genius, excelling in both academics and athletics. He'd won MVP for the soccer team for every year he'd been on it. He'd also placed first in the district-wide mathematics and computing competitions, putting their school on the map.
The taller person adjusted a scarf around their neck. At that moment, Jean instantly knew who it was.
"Mikasa?"
Mikasa's head shot up. With wide eyes, she looked at Levi.
"Listen," started Levi, "what happened here, you didn't see. You didn't see any of this, okay?"
Jean could only nod, too confused about the sudden turn of events.
"You can't tell anyone about this," echoed Mikasa. "Please."
"But," Jean said, "why?"
"Why?" Repeated Levi. "Because for some reason, people like to always talk about us and contrary to popular belief, we like to keep our lives private."
Mikasa placed a hand on Levi's arm. "He won't tell," she said. "Right?" She asked Jean.
"I won't," Jean promised.
"I'm going to go now," said Mikasa. "I'll see you later, okay?" She gave Levi one last lingering kiss and walked off, zipping up her brown jacket to stave off the cold.
"I'm going too," said Levi. "Don't forget about what we said. You can't tell anyone about our relationship. People are going to talk and right now, that's the last thing either of us need."
"I won't say anything," said Jean. As Levi began to walk away, he called out, "Can I ask you something?"
Levi turned back.
"Do you love her?" Jean asked. "Like, you're not just with her because of physical attraction, right?"
Levi huffed. "Even if I was, that's none of your business and you shouldn't shame either of us for doing that. But to answer your question, yes I do love her."
Jean smiled shakily. "Good."
"What's it to you, anyways?"
"Well, if I know that someone really loves her and can make her happy, I think I can give up pursuing her."
Levi shook his head. "Don't give up on Mikasa completely."
Jean looked at his senior, shocked.
"I'm not encouraging you to go after her," Levi rebuked. "Wipe that dopey grin off your face. I'm just saying you shouldn't give up on even wanting her company. She's a good friend." He looked into the direction Mikasa had walked.
Jean followed his gaze, noting the way in which Levi smiled softly. "Yeah," he said. "I think I already figured that part out."
OMAKE
"Hey Marco?"
"What is it, Jean?"
"Since I got rejected by Mikasa and all—"
"I can't believe you summoned the courage to actually ask her."
"Heh, well you know what they say about a hero appearing at the last hour. Anyways, since Mikasa rejected me and all, I was thinking about asking someone else."
"That's the spirit, Jean! Who do you have in mind?"
"Do you think I'll have better luck with Annie?"
"Honestly?"
"Yes, Marco. Honestly."
"Honestly, I think you'll have better luck with a barracuda."
Reviews are greatly appreciated!
