Author's note: Here's a short AoT AU fic I wrote a long time ago, but didn't get the chance to upload it. Hope you guys enjoy! (Oh, and please do forgive me for the League of Legends reference. I just couldn't resist the idea of the Scouting Legion boys playing LoL.)
She was easily the most stunning woman Jean Kirschtein had ever seen.
Though it was ironic that he had found her working as a part-time waitress at a quaint, little Japanese restaurant just on the outskirts of campus, because that face — a face like hers — did not belong in the kitchen.
She had skin like porcelain, the expensive kind, of course. And she was most likely Asian, judging by how her dark eyes elegantly slanted at just the right angle. And her hair. That long, straight black hair that shined like silk under the golden light of the overhead chandelier. How it complimented the paleness of her features. But there was something about the slight prominence of her nose and the hint of color in her irises that were slightly foreign…
"Good evening," she greeted him curtly as she appeared behind the take-out counter. "What can I get for you tonight?"
He opened and closed his mouth a couple of times like a confused fish before he found his voice. "I'll have two orders of your house special tonkatsu to-go and and I'm sorry for bringing this up so suddenly, but I've never seen a face like yours before."
She looked up from the cash register, her expression non-changing. "I'm sorry, what was that?"
"I've never seen a face like yours before," he repeated before he could stop himself. What the fuck did I just say. What the actual fuck. "And your black hair is very beautiful."
Fuckfuckfuck.
As his receipt rolled out of the register, she stared at him for a good three or so seconds before mumbling a "thank you" and handing him the piece of paper. "Your order will be ready in ten minutes. You can take a seat while you wait."
She then disappeared into the kitchens, leaving him to gape awkwardly at her wake.
Messages
Marco Bodt
Hey Marco
Dude
Yeah what is it
I just met this really pretty girl
I think she's a freshman too
Her eyes are really cute
And her hair is just wtf
Lol what's her name
I have no idea
You can start by asking her name dude
Ok will do that
"My name's Jean," he began as he fiddled with the brown paper bag in his hands. "You know, spelled like 'gene', but pronounced like 'John,' but like how French people say it."
The girl blinked a couple of times.
He couldn't stop himself from talking. What little self-restraint he had seemed to have evaporated along with the cold sweat from his temple. "Did I tell you you're really pretty? 'Cause you're really pretty."
Nailed it.
She narrowed her eyes, as though discerning whether he was just an honest guy-next-door type or the potential masochist freak. "Er, thank you?"
He scratched the tip of his nose, where a painfully obvious dust of red began to show. Jesus, this was awkward. "So… what's your name?"
She responded by pointedly glancing at the nametag pinned on her uniform.
Mikasa
"Oh, wow, that's nice," he began. And as if he wasn't satisfied with that, he blurted out, "like the volleyball, right?"
The glare she shot him afterward was one he would never forget.
It took him approximately two entire semesters and five more embarrassing attempts at conversation to figure out that Mikasa Ackerman was never the approachable type. Other than Jaeger, his idiot adoptive brother, and the dweeb Arlert, she, at most times, liked to keep to herself. This struck him right in the man-ego in more ways than one, because, with an abnormally high IQ, which he never thought was possible to find with a face like hers, she had chosen them.
Over him.
Oh, how he would kill to be in Jaeger's shoes right now.
All he wanted was dinner and it didn't even have to be fancy. Hell, they can go to Taco Bell and he would still have the time of his life munching on a burrito, all the while thinking he was the luckiest guy in Stohess University to have his Judo goddess by his side.
Yes, she was a Judo black-belter. And he surprisingly realized that he wouldn't mind getting his butt kicked by her. She was also taking up pre-med, as though making it a point to everyone who knew her that she was more than just a pretty face. Truth be told, she was just that and more because apparently she was at the top of her class at every single damn course she enrolled in.
Seriously, though. He had never, not in his twenty-three years of existence, seen a face like hers. But he knew his feelings, hormone-driven as they were, were beyond physical attraction. She was more than just exotically beautiful (German father, Japanese mother, both deceased, Arlert had told him once). Mikasa was silent yet intelligent, which was that sort of sexiness that warranted respect, and there was something about how her black-grey eyes glinted with sadness sometimes—
Jean, while lost in his train of thoughts, nearly choked on the Gatorade he was drinking when Marco Bodt's elbow dug like a knife into his ribcage. "What the fuck, man, you made me spill on my shirt—!"
"Three o'clock, dude."
"What?"
"Three. O'clock." Marco jerked his head towards the general direction to their right, where—speak of the devil, or angel in this case—was Mikasa with Kill-Em-Dead Jaeger at tow. Yeah, they were technically brother-sister, but why, just why do they always have to be together all the fucking time?
It was right then and there that he had an epiphany. Well, two of them actually—that, for one thing, he was just so fucking jealous.
And that there was a huge purple blotch on his Gap shirt, which just happened to be in the convenient color of white.
"Shit, give me your sweater!" Jean tugged at the sleeve of the other's varsity jacket.
"I don't have anything under here!" Marco protested as he pulled his arm away. "Just act natural and she won't notice it."
Jean looked like a fawn about to be hit by a ten-wheeler truck. "Dude, you love me, right?"
Marco rolled his eyes, but flattened his lips into a grin. "'Course, I do, man, but just—"
"Then you'd want me to be happily married for the rest of my life to a girl I really like—"
"Yeah, but—"
"Then give me your sweater—!"
"Ah!" Marco's eyes brightened. "Do the school salute."
Gritting his teeth, Jean gave his friend a look of desperation as he threw the empty Gatorade bottle into a nearby bin. "What the fuck are you talking about?"
"Here she comes—just do it!" Marco forced the other guy's right hand into a fist and placed it over the left side of his chest. "See? Make it look like you mean it and she won't notice a thing."
"Are you fucking kidding me—?!"
"'Sup, Jean. Marco," Eren greeted them just as he came into earshot. They were within the vicinity of the school's front fountain, where the voices of the other students mingled with the sound of gushing water. "Man, where were you guys last night? The game was fucking great!"
"Yeah, we heard about it," Marco said as he gave a nod towards Mikasa, who returned it with one of hers. "We had a gig in town last night. Had to finish two sets. By the time we got back it was over."
"I don't see what's so great about being floored by the Titans after just two quarters," Mikasa mumbled under her voice.
Eren gave his sister a look. "Oh, c'mon, Mikasa, what happened to school spirit?"
Jean felt a bead of sweat making its way down his jaw, but he kept his chin up, his back and his face as straight as he could despite looking like a frigging idiot, but—
Damn, she looks nice in those jeans.
"I've lost mine after our school team got crushed three seasons in a row," Mikasa deadpanned as she adjusted that favorite red scarf of hers around her neck. She then looked at Jean, amused. "But obviously he hasn't lost his."
The man in question swallowed a lump in his throat, but kept his poise up. Or what was left of it. Oh, he was going to kill Marco in a slow and painful way if he gets through this…
"Hey, what's the matter with you?" Eren asked as he noticed the statuesque figure that was Jean, giving a salute as though he was truly offering up his heart for a cause only he knew.
"'Sup, Eren," he greeted them stiffly. "Mikasa."
"Am I missing something here?" Eren asked in his usual curious manner as his sister shrugged. Why did he have to be born the nosy bastard that he was? And why did he have to be around her all the time?
"Oh, you know," Jean began, trying his best to look calm and collected, which he was not. He looked stupid, was angry, frustrated and just fucking jealous. "Just showing some school patriotism."
Eren looked suspicious. "No shit."
Marco clapped a hand on his best friend's shoulder and faked a laugh. "He's just upset we couldn't make it to the game last night. Right, Jean?"
"Erm… Yeah." Jean managed to murmur as he avoided Eren's skeptical gaze.
Mikasa took out her phone from her pocket and glanced at the time. "We have to go or we'll run out of seats, Eren."
Seats?
They were going to have dinner out?
"Yeah, my crab casserole's waiting for me." Eren bumped his fist against Marco's and nodded a goodbye to Jean, who still wouldn't move a muscle.
"See you around," Mikasa said as the two continued their walk towards the exit gates.
Jean dropped his hands to his sides in defeat. "I will fucking kill you."
"Ah, well," Marco pocketed his hands. "At least she noticed you, yeah?"
"Fuck you."
Jean had always felt anger.
(Well, angst was a better word for it.)
But he realized, after outgrowing his former high school self, that it wasn't really directed at anything or anyone in particular. It was just a part of him that was constantly there, something that felt like bubbling water… like a simmering kind of sensation before coming to a full boil. Like a dormant volcano just ready to explode if provoked in the wrong way.
This familiar feeling of potential unpredictability was one of the reasons why Jean was thankful for Marco's constant guidance. Because, apparently, his best friend seemed to have mastered something in which college kids usually lacked knowledge: good sense of judgment.
This was also the reason why they were having this conversation while chowing down Chinese take-out on the floor of their cramped yet cozy men's dorm room.
"I don't know, man," Jean mumbled through a mouthful of fried rice. "I don't think she hates me. Doesn't seem to like me though."
Marco, whose initial reaction was a simple shrug of his shoulders, popped a can of Coke open and handed it to his friend, who took it. "Dude, you're doing it again."
"Doing what again?"
"Over-thinking," Marco said as though it was the most obvious thing on the planet.
Jean sighed, stabbed his chopsticks through a piece of chicken meat and stared at the ceiling. "Like I said. I don't know, man. Maybe I am, maybe I'm trying too hard. Maybe I'm not. I don't know."
"Well, you already said it, so I guess there isn't much I can say," Marco said as he stole prawn crackers from his friend's share.
"What?"
"You try too hard," he emphasized every word like he was talking to a five-year-old. Thank God for Marco and his never-ending supply of patience. "You're creeping her out."
"Really?" Jean gobbled up half of his soda in one gulp, dawning on him that liking all of her Facebook statuses and asking her out with cheesy one-liners were probably too much for her (or any girl's) taste. He wasn't really one for dating to begin with. Could his friend really blame him for that? "So… what do you propose then?"
Marco shrugged again and was in the middle of chewing on a tempura when he said, "Well, you can try a different approach, you know. Something that's conventional yet different. Cliché but kinda sweet."
Jean raised an eyebrow. "Go on."
"She likes music."
In interest, his other eyebrow followed suit. "And how did you find out about this?"
"She has an iPod she listens to all the time when she isn't with Eren or Armin."
"That's bullshit, everyone has an iPod. Having one doesn't really mean you like music. She could've gotten it as a gift she didn't want for Christmas or something and decided to use it anyway."
"Well, you got a better idea, Kirschtein?" Marco teased as he started collecting the leftovers and stuffing them inside their mini-fridge. He did have a point there. "Just think of something that you think will sweep her off her feet. Girls like that kinda stuff, right?"
Jean blinked in silence.
Marco laughed, sitting down on the edge of his messy bed. "Just please, please stop comparing her to a volleyball. That's not legit, dude. And it's not even funny."
"Shut up, Bodt," Jean said, not without a smile, as he got up and rolled into the lumpy mattress that, despite what felt like rocks underneath the sheets, had warmed up to him these past semesters.
She likes music.
She likes music.
She. Likes. Music.
If Marco's theory was correct, then that would mean they actually had something in common, which was just fucking great. Because, other than trying to survive Architecture in a university, music was what made up most of his life. Jean had first picked up a guitar when he was six years old and hadn't stopped playing since. And although his singing voice wasn't something girls would swoon for—he was good, in-tune, but not that good—Marco would more often than not fill in that role during their late-night gigs outside the campus—
It was perfect.
Just fucking perfect.
He then had another epiphany that day. A third one. And it was an idea that might just break or make him.
armin_arlert has joined the game.
…
…
…
jaeger88 has joined the game.
…
…
jeantheman has joined the game.
…
MarcoXD has joined the game.
…
…
…
jaeger88: where the fucks connie
armin_arlert: His laptop overheated
jeantheman: wtf not again
armin_arlert: Wait for it, wait for it
…
…
…
springerXcon has joined the game.
…
jaeger88: YESSSSSSSSSSSSS
jaeger88: lets go feed on noobs
jeantheman: yeah more like feed the enemy team jaeger
jeantheman: like you always do
jaeger88: fuck u kirschtesadfks
springerXcon: jean has a good point eren lol
jaeger88: well fuck all of u
…
…
MarcoXD: Ok guys jean has somthing to tell u
…
jeantheman: yeah i kinda need ur help
jeantheman: cause theres this girl i really like
armin_arlert: Yeah, don't we all know that lol
springerXcon: mi casa y su casa haha
armin_arlert: LOL
jaeger88: ack idk what u see in her
jaeger88: my sister is a man in woman's clothing im telling u
…
jeantheman: stfu springer jaeger
jeantheman: yeah so it's on friday night around 8pm
jeantheman: outside the girls dorms
jeantheman: ill send the link to u guys on facebook
springerXcon: what is this an ambush?
springerXcon: u didnt even ask us if we would agree to this JOHN
…
MarcoXD: Look guys just go with it
MarcoXD: This plan was engineered by yours truly
armin_arlert: Ah, the things you make me do
springerXcon: fine
…
armin_arlert has chosen Diana.
…
jeantheman: and be in ur best tux btw
springerXcon: wtf tux i don't have a tux
…
MarcoXD has chosen Mordekaiser.
springerXcon has chosen Nunu.
…
jeantheman has chosen Caitlyn.
…
…
…
jaeger88 has chosen Blitzcrank.
…
jeantheman: WTF JAEGER
jeantheman: FUCK NO
jeantheman: U ARE THE WORST BLITZ IVE SEEN THIS SEASON
armin_arlert: Eren if you have any care at all for this team, please reselect to Shyvana
springerXcon: fuck u jaeger
springerXcon: with u on blitz its as good as a 4v5
Starting in 5…
MarcoXD: Ah well, better luck next game lol
Starting in 4…
Starting in 3…
Starting in 2…
jeantheman: asfuhsdklsdf!
jeantheman: SUICIDAL BASTARD
Mikasa never talked much, and it was a relief to have roommates who weren't as quiet as her but still respected her silence all the same. Though their noises can annoy her in more ways than one during nights when she needed to finish a couple of hundred items for a book exam, it made her smile that they complimented her more than she would care to admit.
Not that she hated them, no. They were just beginning to grow on her, like how Eren and Armin did when she first met them. And that was saying a lot knowing that she had as much social skills as a moss-covered rock.
"It's lackin' somethin'…" Sasha, a culinary major in her year, was busying herself over a pan which smelled like cream, butter, milk, meat, pepper, onions and, sweet baby Jesus, it just smelled so good it made Mikasa's stomach grumble. "Hey Ymir, what d'ya think?"
A tall, slender girl with golden brown skin mumbled something, got up from her bed and walked over to where Sasha was by the portable stove. She dipped the spoon into the pan and, after blowing on it a couple of times, shoved some brown-looking sauce in her mouth. "It tastes fine to me."
"It's not supposed to be fine, it's supposed to be good—" Sasha argued, clearly frustrated.
The other girl looked exasperated and hungry. "Fine. It's good."
"Well, it's not like someone who studies European history would understand—!"
"Can we please just eat? It's almost eight."
Mikasa managed a small grin before getting up from her bed as well and grabbing some bowls from the cupboards. She passed them to Ymir. "Everything you cook is good. And that's why you're in school, to get from good to better."
Ymir began scooping out Sasha's latest creation from the heated pan and into the dish. "Yeah, and it's not like we can cook to save our lives, Sash. You're, like, a divine intervention to our humble abode."
Mikasa sat back down on her mattress with her share of dinner just as Ymir and Sasha did in their respective beds. The standard girl's dorm rooms were pretty confined and would accommodate around three to four people at most, which meant two bunk beds, a small night stand and a common dresser would be as homey as it could get. They also had a small kitchen table, but they barely used that since it was a makeshift study desk too. So this dinner setup was one they silently, and happily, agreed to.
It might be a little too small to her liking, but, yeah it was like a second home anyway. A home away from Eren and Armin. The only added bonus was that this second floor room had a veranda. And it was where they usually spend their sleepless Saturday nights, a bottle of flavored beer in their hands. It was where Ymir would smoke to death when she had a fight with her girlfriend Christa, their other roommate, an Accounting major. Or where Sasha would throw water balloons at random passersby when she was felt like it. It was where Mikasa would roll her eyes, pretending to think they were immature, but she would sip some beer and smile all the same.
She was on her second bowl when a soft knock came from the door. Sasha yelled a muffled "C'min!" just as a petite, blonde girl entered the room, carrying what looked like groceries in brown paper bags.
"Dinner's up, Christa," Ymir said as she downed some stew like she hadn't eaten in days. "Lots more for seconds and thirds."
"Oh, perfect, I'm starving," she said as she grabbed a bowl of her own after dumping the bags on the floor. "You guys wouldn't believe the line in Smart 'N Final, and the girl behind the cashier moved so slow, but then she looked kinda pale and sick and looked like she had the flu, so I just couldn't bear to be mean, you know."
Sasha snorted into her food. "You're never mean."
"Yeah, well…" Christa's eyes then rounded on Mikasa, sitting innocently on her bed. "You might wanna check out the balcony, by the way."
Her eyebrow arched. "What?"
The boys were there, she soon discovered. Well, not all of them. There was her brother Eren, then Armin, Jean, Connie and Marco. They were dressed in white collared shirts, jeans like they'd just come straight out of bible study, which was odd. Because knowing these guys, they would probably spend their entire free time in front of their computers, comparing weapons and armors like what normal cavemen do.
"Is there something I should know about, Eren?" she inquired her adoptive brother down below, resting her elbows on the weathered railings and leaning forward in boredom.
Eren looked like he was dragged all the way from the men's dorm to be here. Tousled black hair looking like a bird had been nesting in it and all. "Hi sis. Wassup?"
Mikasa face was unreadable. Which meant, Go on, explain.
Next to Eren, she saw Jean bite his lower lip, looking nervous and as white as quiz paper. There was a guitar peeking from behind him. "Hi there, Mikasa."
"Hello, Jean," she called out, politely.
Ah, another one of his crazy antics again.
Her eyes flickered towards Connie, who was fiddling with a 99-cents-store tambourine. Then to Marco, looking like the freckled Jesus that he was, bass guitar in tow. Armin gave her a small wave, which she returned in kind. She looked back to Jean, knowing that he was the mastermind of this whole supposed routine. A long silence followed, after which she huffed and turned away from them to walk back to her room—
"Ninety miles outside Chicago," Jean began, strumming a chord on his guitar.
Mikasa stopped in her tracks.
"Can't stop driving, I don't know why."
"What the fucking hell," Ymir came out to join her, with Christa and Sasha at her tail. "Oh my God, Kirschtein, didn't know you had it in you."
"So many questions, I need an answer…"
Christa was giggling when Ymir and Sasha grabbed Mikasa by the shoulders and, with brute force, turned her back to watch the splendor that was Jean, her reckless (albeit loving) brother and the rest of the boys sway to the rhythm of the song. Sasha let out a cat call as she nudged Mikasa in the arm with a wink.
"Two years later you're still on my mind."
She pressed her lips into a thin line to stop herself from smiling. Oh, this was a spectacle to behold indeed that Christa had pulled out her smart phone and was recording the entire thing for everyone's future viewing pleasure.
Marco had switched to lead vocals. "Whatever happened to Amelia Earheart? Who holds the stars up in the sky?"
Jean was playing the guitar like it was second nature to him. Wow, she didn't really think he was that good with it. And damn it, she was blushing. She, Mikasa Ackerman, who mastered the art of keeping her emotions at bay, was actually blushing. She knew Eren would never let this down for so long as they breathed.
"Is true love just once in a life time?"
Jean came in to sing with Marco. "Did the captain of the Titanic cry? Oh, someday we'll know…"
"…If love can move a mountain." Jean sang.
A duet. "Someday we'll know…"
"…Why the sky is blue!" Jean looked the happiest he had ever been as he lost himself in the song, looking like he enjoyed every moment, every note of it.
Their voices meshed together perfectly. "Someday we'll know…"
Jean sang his solo again. "Why I wasn't meant for you… Does anybody know the way to Atlantis?"
On cue, the three other boys shielded their eyes in mock search of a fictional lost city. It was so adorable Mikasa, along with her roommates, laughed out loud, and it made Jean break into a smile. A real one, something she hadn't seen before beneath all the grins and smirks that he used whenever he tried to impress her with some lame pick-up line he probably got from the internet.
"What the wind says when she cries?" Marco's voice was just beautiful that it made Mikasa wonder for a brief second why women aren't fawning over his hands and feet.
Sasha made a sound that was close to a sigh or a swoon.
"I'm speeding by the place that I met you…" Jean sang as he strummed his guitar.
It was a duet again. "For the ninety-seventh time, tonight!"
"Someday we'll know if love can move a mountain.
Someday we'll know why the sky is blue.
Someday we'll know why I wasn't meant for you…"
Marco held out an invisible microphone to Eren, Connie and Armin, at which they huddle together in time and sang in chorus, "Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah!"
Jean stepped out in front of the other four, proudly. His guitar and voice were his weapons tonight. And she, apparently, had succumbed to them, defeated for once. "Someday we'll know, why—"
"What is the reason for the racket outside, gentlemen?"
The music stopped and the boys were immediately engulfed in what looked like a terawatt floodlight to rival the sun. Mikasa recognized that voice anywhere. Rico Brzenska, their landlady, speaking, unseen, through a megaphone somewhere from the first floor of their building.
"Oh, fuck," Ymir droned, clearly pissed that the show got cut too early.
"It is past your curfews, Mr. Jaeger and company. Please return to your dormitories immediately."
Eren, Armin, Connie and Marco were chuckling as they turned on their heel and ran towards the gates back to campus. Jean, despite the warning, opted to stay for a few more seconds to ask her something she had been expecting since the boys had shown up on the lawn of their dorms.
"Mikasa. Please have dinner with me." Jean spread his arms in a gesture of a man who gave it his all and had nothing to lose. He was smiling though, and she could tell it was the sincerest she'd seen him give her. Or anyone.
"Mr. Kirchstein, I've already given my first warning."
Christa and Sasha were giving her the look of hell-yeah-of-course-you-would as Ymir lazily draped an arm around her shoulder and smiled. Yeah, Mikasa thought Ymir approved of it as well. Ah, the pros and cons of peer pressure. She should make that into a thesis someday, if ever she was lucky enough to reach senior year.
When Mikasa found her voice, it was high-pitched and very unlike her. And it made the color on her cheeks pinker than they already were. "It's a definite maybe," she called out to him.
"What? What d'you mean?" Jean looked confused and blinked.
"Second warning, Mr. Kirchstein. Another warning and I'm calling your landlord."
She rolled her eyes and attempted to look deadpanned. Mikasa failed miserably. "It's a definite maybe. Like maybe… seven o'clock tomorrow."
She could've sworn his howl of happiness would've been heard throughout Stohess University. Some of the windows even lit up, curious silhouettes peeking through the glass.
"Final warning, Mr. Kirchstein."
And then, for a second time that night, she laughed again. With her roommates. She couldn't help it when she saw Professor Levi, in his pajamas and nightcap, chasing Jean off the green sod of the girl's dorms and into the darkness of the night.
They had gone on their first date the next day.
It was quickly followed by a second one, a third, a fourth, until they ultimately lost count.
It was snowing when she had finally agreed to be his girlfriend. Fourteen days before Christmas to be exact. And he had never seen his best friend so happy in his entire life. He had returned to their dormitories looking flustered and tired and happy all at the same time that it took him a few minutes to calm down and manage to get some actual words out.
And so Jean had told him. They were official.
Marco, she said 'yes!' This wouldn't have happened if it weren't for you, man, he had said breathlessly. You're awesome, dude!
Although Marco had expected this since they started dating, it still hit him like a ton of bricks.
It still didn't hurt less.
But then again, all he wanted was for Jean to be happy. To be with someone that could give him everything that he couldn't. To be able to hold hands while walking down a street without people staring and whispering behind their hands. To love and be loved by the woman he had liked the first time he had seen her.
He was his best friend after all, and he wanted to keep it that way, even if it meant that it was the only way he could keep him.
As friends.
FIN