He's the first one to notice the small strip of blue through the dense thicket of forest and he stops abruptly, mouth hanging open. Mikasa stops too, glancing at him with unnerving perception. She doesn't say anything, just resting a hand on his shoulder.

"Eren," she says, and Eren looks at her, at the worry in her gaze, and shoots her a reassuring smile.

"Mikasa." He takes her hand into his own and intertwines their fingers. "I think it's the sea." He grimaces at the sound of his hoarse voice and desperately tightens his grip on her hand.

Mikasa squeezes back lightly and while she doesn't say anything, Eren has knows her long enough, well enough, to see the undercurrent of emotions running through her. They trudge through the forest slowly, pushing aside vines, and stepping over logs, hands locked together the entire time.

The sun is blinding when they step out of the green and it takes a moment for Eren's eyes to adjust to the abrupt change in lighting. Squinting, he blocks out as much sun as possible with his hands. He hears Mikasa's sharp exhale and when his eyes finally focus on the view before him, he finds himself unable to speak, to move, to breathe.

He sees miles and miles of uninterrupted blue, a perfect mirror image of the sky. He sees the waves rise up into a crescendo and come crashing down on the shores, staining the sand a dark, dark shade. He sees sand, more than he has ever seen in his lifetime.

"Armin wasn't exaggerating," Mikasa says. "He said the sea makes up seventy percent of the world." She closes her eyes and inhales deeply, relaxing her shoulders. "It's even supposed to be full of salt." Her voice shakes.

Eren tugs at her hand, not trusting himself to speak in a steady voice. They walk hand-in-hand, feet sinking into the warm sand. There are twigs and sea shells scattered mixed into the sand and every now and then a particularly colorful one catches Eren's eye and he stoops down to pick it up. It's not long before his hand is full of shells and when he tries to shove them into his pocket he stumbles and drops every last one. Mikasa lifts up her scarf to hide a smile and though Eren flushes, he can't help but chuckle. Dropping to their knees, they pick up the shells, putting it into their pockets. They stay that way for a while, sitting on their knees, next to each other, enjoying the steady rhythm of the waves. Eren inhales deeply, relishing the fresh smell.

"Do you think the water is really salty?" Eren asks, drawing on the sand with a stray twig he picked up.

"I don't know," Mikasa responds, her lips curving up into the faintest of smiles. She stands up and reaches out to Eren. "But we should find out."

He takes a hold of her offered hand and hauls himself up and together they walk to the water. Eren stands at the line where the sand changes colors from a dry gold to a damp brown and watches with rapt fascination as the water floods through his feet. The thick boots he wears prevents him from feeling the rush of cool water, but his imagination is plenty for now. He leans in to the water and cups his hand together. Grabbing a handful of the water, he brings it to his lips and takes a large gulp. It leaves a foul taste in his mouth and it takes Eren everything to not gag or choke or throw up. He licks his lips, ridding them of the lingering salt water and looks at Mikasa, who, judging by her damp hands, scrunched face, and glistening lips, seems to have done the same thing he did.

"It's salty," Eren says, gleeful. "Armin was right, it really is salty. It's the saltiest damn thing I've ever tasted." He tastes salt again and this time he knows it's not from the water. "He would have liked this, you know. He was always the one talking about the ocean and the salt and the sand. He should have been here, with us."

He stumbles when Mikasa grabs his shoulders and pulls him to her. She locks eyes with him and he is momentarily stunned by the intense expression on her face. "He is with us," Mikasa says firmly.

Eren relaxes and leans in, pressing his forehead to hers.

"You're right. He is."