"Mikasa, look!" A hand rose before the girl's face, one finger out with a butterfly perched upon it. The insect's wings fluttered slightly, and her eyes widened. She was fascinated by it and gave a small gasp of delight. The sun was shining high in the sky, sending a kiss of warmth down on the older woman and herself. They were tending to the garden's vegetables and flowers; and ridding of any weeds that threatened to choke or stunt their growth. "Isn't it beautiful?" Mikasa nodded, her head bobbing with excitement as grey eyes filled with curiosity and wonder.

A chuckle left her mother's lips and Mikasa mirrored it with her own. With a gentle but swift gust of wind, her straw hat was carried off. "Oh!" She reached to snatch it, but wasn't quite swift enough. Simultaneously, the butterfly had taken flight only to be caught in the beak of a bird that swooped past. Slowly, Mikasa retracted her fingers and curled them into her palm, drawing that arm close to her chest. No longer did she feel the serenity that once filled the atmosphere – and the sun, both its radiant light and splendid warmth was gone.

Blood; there was blood, all along the floor. It was creeping closer to her bare toes, and she scrunched them in an attempt to avoid the sticky ooze. The bodies of her parents lay on the wooden floorboards of their home. She was paralyzed; completely immobilized by fear alone. A scream tore from her diaphragm, burned her lungs and crawled hazardously from her throat past her lips.

It was at that moment that Mikasa bolted upright, covered in a cool sweat in her cot. Fingers curled into the mattress beneath her and soon began a feeble attempt to peel the sheets from her body. A nightmare; that's all it was. But the images were so vivid – it felt as though they had happened all over again. Both hands fled to her face, sliding over her features roughly before she fell back again and closed her eyes. Though her breathing was ragged and her heart like the hooves of horses, Mikasa knew it was all just a recollection of her memories; that nothing was truly wrong at the present time. It would be one of those nights then, she thought mildly. Sleep would be hard to find; but her body was exhausted from training in the past week. Turning on her side, the soldier drew the blankets up over her shoulder and tucked it well beneath her chin. Eventually, she would slumber once more.