Try Again
All around her, the world is dust.
The wind steals from the ground in handfuls, turning the sky into a blur of light and sand. She lets the dry earth cling to the fabric, to soften the rough texture of her cloak; she does not care when the grains slip, unwelcome, deep in the folds of her scarf.
As far as she is concerned, it is too late for anything to matter. There is absolutely nothing Mikasa wants to do — nothing, except for crying.
The sense of loss makes her head spin, bare for everyone to see under a sun that has no mercy.
She would agree to any harm, any damage done to her, rather than letting him go. He is, after all, the one gift in her life to have the shape of a promise. Since the touch of soft wool, she has been counting and treasuring every image that belongs to them — the warmth of a roof turning into warm words, into the contact of their fingers, tightly interlaced against the evil of fate.
Nothing in her life could ever be the same. She needs to come back to him, as many tries as it takes.
She meant it when she said what her only wish was; it is not without him that she wants her future to happen. Eren has always been her strength, and he has gone too far inside her soul — now, in the lingering risk of losing him forever, she can barely feel the drive to keep her heart beating.
She should have been more careful, she knows. She should have stopped herself before his touch burnt itself in her skin, before his hands, his embrace, his warm breath by the fireplace could slip in her being to the point of no return.
She went past that long ago. Mikasa chokes back her sobs, in the bitter rush of awareness.
In moments like this, Eren seems to bring along her will to live; she feels it miles away, with him, where everything is unreachable and far and defenseless. Still, she has to go on, and each swollen breath reminds her — is only right to fight for what you hold dear. At the end of every burning day, in the smell of blood and solitude, she will chase the hope to hold him again.
And if Eren's destiny is already traced — no matter to what extent it is yet unknown — she has already learnt to accept her own.
She is bound to have him slip from her grasp, as smoothly as running water, fickle and precious like nothing else in the world. Her acceptance, clear and painful, matches the cold of the evening winds. He could never do this alone.
Whatever happens, the source of her strength has to be her own curse.
She dries her tears, to find Armin and the sympathetic gaze that only a shared destiny can have. In his own love and concern, Mikasa finds the will to stand up, offering him her hand.
She has already agreed to that. There is so much all of them need to preserve — there are countless lives and chances, a whole world to win back, and the hundreds of doors that could open on their future. There is a radiant perspective beyond that war, one that Eren alone can help them get; beyond her own dreams of warmth and rest, he can give them all the miracle of choice. She smiles.
As long as he is far, she will force herself to chase him.
Anything to protect what she loves the most.