He is stable, and he is safe, and he is always, always there.
The scarf around her neck - a constant comfort to her - is a reminder of that.
"I'm coming with you."
"Relax, Mikasa," Eren assures her. "It's no big deal. We're just going to head over to where Hanji's squad is, and pass them the supplies, and then we'll head right back, see?"
"I'm going with you," Mikasa repeats as though she hasn't heard him. "No way you're going out of the walls by yourself."
"I'm going with Levi's squad, what better protection could I have?" Eren throws his hands up in despair. "Mikasa, I can handle myself."
"He's right, Ackerman," an irritatingly familiar voice drawls. Mikasa doesn't need to turn around to know that it's Levi. "Besides, you're needed here. Protect the helpless civilians and that all that bullshit."
Mikasa bites her lip and sighs. "I don't like this."
"I'm going to be fine, Mikasa," Eren says, uncharacteristically gentle. "Promise."
There's an irritated sigh from behind them. "I'll leave you lovebirds be," Levi calls, "but you're staying, and that's an order, Recruit Ackerman."
His voice isn't loud but it is authoritative, and there's no room left for argument. Mikasa sighs again, not even bothering to retaliate over the lovebirds comment.
She rests her head on his shoulder the way she always does, and they spend the rest of the night gazing out of the window in a pensive silence.
"You're sure you'll be safe?"
Petra laughs. "We'll take good care of him, Mikasa." She ruffles his hair and he makes muffled sounds of protest.
Before she can stop herself, she takes off her scarf and hands it to him. "Be safe," is all she says. He smiles, and it is enthusiastic but with a tinge of sadness. He slips an envelope into her hands and whispers for her to read it later.
"Keep him alive," she tells Levi, who's already on his horse and decked out in full gear. His face is expressionless as always, but his eyes are almost sympathetic.
"I'll try, but I make no promises, Ackerman." With that, he turns the horse around to join up with the rest of the group.
"We need to go, Jaeger," Jean yells from ahead. Eren rolls his eyes and reaches out, wordlessly brushing the hair out of her eyes.
And then he's gone, galloping off out of the gates and cheerfully trading insults with Jean. Mikasa watches them go, her gut clenching involuntarily.
You'd better come back, Eren Jaeger.
Dear Mikasa,
Don't worry about me. Remember to eat, sleep, argue with Annie, whatever. I'll be back before you know it.
Although there is one thing I wanted to say. When I come back, I want to be with you.
It's sudden, but I started thinking of it when I realised just how close we are to the war finally ending. After all that shit, I want to settle down and live, you know? Travel the world, see the ocean and the frozen lands and the plains of sand they talked about in Armin's book.
But I want to do all that with you.
Aw, man, I've never been good with words. But you get what I mean, right? Armin says I should ask you out, or something, but that'd be stupid since we've known each other, like, forever.
Anyways, I'll see you soon, Mikasa. I'll be back, I promise. Don't die while I'm gone.
He'd drawn a little smiley face at the end.
"Idiot," Mikasa murmurs to herself, and can't stop the smile that spreads over her face.
Mikasa stands on tiptoe, trying to see through the crowd. The procession of Recon Corps members, she notes with some relief, does not look much diminished from six days ago.
She strains to catch a glimpse of messy dark hair and bright blue-green eyes. She knows it's there, she fucking knows it -
"Ackerman."
She turns around, sighing in relief. "Corporal. Thank God you're all -"
She stops. Levi looks almost pained, and he opens his mouth to speak, but can't bring himself to speak.
Jean steps in, and his expression is grim. "Mikasa," he says. "I'm sorry."
In his hands is her scarf, frayed slightly at the edges and stained with dark crimson that is not completely hidden against the red of her scarf.
The envelope slips out of her frozen hands, flutters to the ground.
"You fucking liar."
The battle is over. The war is won.
She stares at the distant ocean, and a small smile graces her lips; the first in years.
She hesitates. Takes a single step forward.
The scarf around her neck - discoloured from years of use - tightens, just once, and provides her a final comfort.