Hi everyone! I've almost been planning this story for a year now so it feels really odd to finally be writing it. This is really different to The Maid but I hope everybody likes it! It has less romance but more of a plot than The Maid did. Reviews would be really appreciated because I've never written in this style before and I'd like to know how to improve. Thanks, and I hope you enjoy!
February 10th, 1929. New York City.
"Eren. Sit still. Do you want to do this or not?"
"Sorry, sorry." Eren jigged his leg back and forth, eyes darting around the room as his mother scowled at him. In front of him lay a gift waiting to be wrapped. The morning light filtered through a gap in the curtains dimly; the sun had not yet fully risen. The only sounds that could be heard were the tapping of Eren's foot against the floorboards and the rustling of paper as Eren's mother tried in vain to wrap the present. Even the pale light was enough to expose how ill she looked - her pallid skin, the dark circles underneath her eyes.
"The sooner you help me with this," his mother said, "the sooner you can go and see Mikasa. You spent so long making this. All you have to do is wrap it now."
As carefully as he could, Eren tied the string while his mother held together the paper that wrapped the scarlet scarf he had been knitting for the past month. He had been looking forward to Mikasa's birthday for weeks, and it had taken an extraordinary amount of effort to keep the secret of his present hidden from her.
"Can I go and see her now?" He asked, admiring his handiwork.
"Yes, you may. Tell her I said happy birthday," she said; but he was gone in a heartbeat, letting the door slam behind him. His mother rested her head in her arms, and let out a long, slow breath.
Eren was running up the two flights of stairs between his and Mikasa's apartments when he heard her door open. When he reached the hallway, she was already standing there, a smile on her face, waiting for him.
"Happy birthday!" He smiled at her.
They had been friends for as long as they could remember; when Mikasa and her family had moved to New York from Japan, a few months before Mikasa was born, it had been Eren's parents who had shown the young couple American life. The women, both pregnant, had become friends, and when Eren and Mikasa were born they had too.
"Thanks!" She grinned back, tucking her long black hair behind her ear. "Do you want to come in? I doubt we'll be able to go yet. It's too early."
"Sure. What's it like, being ten?" He asked excitedly. "Is it any different?"
Mikasa laughed. "Nope. Is that for me?" She pointed at the present in Eren's arms.
"Oh, right, yeah! I forgot about that," Eren laughed. "D'you want to open it now?"
"Yeah," she said, taking the gift from him and setting it down on the clean coffee table, "but I can't yet. Mom and Dad said I could my presents tonight."
"Okay." Eren stood awkwardly. He never knew how to behave in Mikasa's apartment; it was so different from his own, despite having the exact same layout. In his apartment, the stained coffee table was cluttered, the walls were lined with bookcases, the floor needed to be swept. Mikasa's was spotless - the table shined, and the walls were decorated with art.
"Happy birthday," Mikasa's mother entered the room. She pulled Mikasa into a hug, holding her tightly. Mikasa breathed in deeply; she loved the smell of her mother.
"Thanks, Mom," she said. "It's still alright if me and Eren go out today, right?"
"Eren and I. Where are you going?"
"We're going to go and see if Armin's up, and decide there. I'm not sure what I want to do yet."
"Good morning, Mrs Jones," Eren said to Mikasa's mother, shuffling awkwardly. He was always more comfortable when they were at his house.
"Hi, Eren," she said to him. She was a very tall woman, with long black hair like Mikasa's, tied perfectly into a bun, and sharp eyes. She was one of the only people that intimidated Eren, despite the fact that she was perfectly friendly. "Sit down, both of you. Eren, have you eaten?"
"I have, thanks, Mrs Jones."
"Alright. Mikasa, do you want some bacon? Eggs? I can make you a cup of coffee, if you like, seeing as you're so old now." She grinned and ruffled Mikasa's hair.
"Okay," Mikasa said, "but I'll just have some bread."
"Make sure you have something hot for lunch. Come home for dinner, okay?"
"Okay."
"Do you think Armin will be awake yet?" Eren asked Mikasa, as the smell of coffee began to fill the air.
"I'm not sure." She said, her mouth full of bread. "What do you think coffee's like, anyway?"
"I bet it's not very nice," Eren said, sniffing. "But it doesn't smell bad, I guess."
After several minutes, the coffee was done. Mikasa looked down at it. The drink was steaming and warmed her hands.
"You might want to put some sugar in it." Mikasa's mother said.
She took a small, tentative sip. Mikasa had not expected to enjoy it, but she did; despite its bitterness, the coffee had a rich, nutty taste that warmed her instantly. Her mother laughed when Mikasa smiled and took another drink.
"It's good," she grinned. "Eren, you try it."
As soon as the coffee touched his lips, Eren spat it all over his lap. Mikasa laughed at him and took the drink back, while her mother scolded him, trying not to laugh herself, and dabbed the coffee from his trousers.
"Mom, can we go and get Armin now?" Mikasa asked when she had finished the drink.
"Of course, but don't you want to go and see your father first?"
"I'll see him when I get home!" Mikasa called, as Eren pulled her by the hand to the door, where she quickly grabbed her coat and hat before running outside and down the eight flights of stairs that led to the snowy ground outside.
From the window of her apartment, Mikasa's mother watched as her daughter and Eren ran across the road to the apartment block opposite, leaving boot-prints in the snow. Her daughter was ten years old, safe, happy, and warm. She rested her forehead against the cold glass and thought of all the things that could have happened to Mikasa if they hadn't managed to escape Japan.
A loud, pounding knock on the door echoed through the apartment.
"Armin!" A loud knock on the door. "Are you up yet?"
Mikasa and Eren pressed their ears against the door and heard the soft padding of slippers against floorboards. The door opened to reveal Armin's grandfather, stifling a yawn. He squinted at them.
"Eren, Mikasa! It could only be you two here so early in the morning. Come in," he said, "Armin's just eating breakfast."
They entered the kitchen to find Armin hunched over a plate of untouched bacon and a thick, old-looking book. He turned and smiled at them when they came in, his long blonde hair falling over his eyes.
"Happy birthday!" Armin said to Mikasa, and passed her an envelope. His glasses slid down his nose and he pushed them up.
"What's this?" She asked, carefully opening it while Eren watched on in anticipation.
Armin rubbed the back of his neck, looking down at the floor. "I don't know if you'll like it," he said, nervous. "Grandfather let me go through all of his old newspapers. I found some Japanese ones and I cut out some of the pictures for you. I don't know if you'll like it, but I know you've never been, so I just thought…" he trailed off.
Mikasa flicked through the images. She had never seen Japan before; all she had ever known was the busy streets of New York, and her mother never spoke of what Japan was like. It looked like a different world - girls wore strange clothes, and the buildings in the city streets were so much more intricate and beautiful. She could feel a tug of longing in her heart, like she missed the place in some kind of irrational way.
"I love them, Armin," she said, placing them back in the envelope so she could save them to look at later. Something told her to keep this hidden from her mother; whenever Mikasa tried to talk to her about Japan or her old life, her mother changed the subject and became cold.
"I'm glad," he smiled and looked reassured.
"So where are we going today?" Eren asked.
"We could go to the fairground," Armin said, "or we could go and see a baseball game. I can pay if you want. Mom and Dad left me enough money."
"Baseball sounds great!" Eren said. "But you choose, Mikasa."
"I like the sound of baseball."
"So do I," Armin smiled. He left his empty coffee mug and full plate of breakfast on the table and ran to put on his coat and shoes.
"Hey! Old man Armin! Is this you?!" Eren exclaimed, pointing towards a picture on the wall.
"I've not seen that picture before," Mikasa said, looking at it.
"I only put it up there yesterday," Armin's grandfather said, coming up behind them. "Armin found it when he was looking for those newspapers."
The image was of a younger Mr Arlert. His hair was long, just like Armin's, and he wore similar glasses. His face was smooth and without wrinkles, and he was smiling. Behind him was a forest of tall trees and a sparkling river.
"Where in America is that?" Eren asked, his voice filled with awe.
The old man laughed. "That's not America," he said, "that's Germany. That river's called the Rhine."
"All the way in Europe?" Eren asked incredulously. Of all the subjects in school, geography was the only one in which he paid any attention.
"Yep," his grandfather chuckled.
"How come you don't travel anymore?" Mikasa asked.
"I'm too old for that now, and my eyesight's getting worse by the minute. But I'm sure Armin will be able to tell me what the rest of world is like when he's older."
"Are you guys ready?" Armin said, walking over.
"Yep!" Said Mikasa and Eren. They said their goodbyes to Armin's grandfather and headed back out into the cold. Mikasa enjoyed the sound of the snow crunching under her.
"So when do your parents get back?" Mikasa said to Armin.
"I'm not sure. Mom said they'd be a few days, but it's been a week already and I've not heard from them. I know they're busy with work and everything, but I wish they would just write." He stared at his shoes.
Mikasa opened her mouth to offer some words of comfort, but Eren spoke before her. "Who needs them?" He said. "Your grandfather is much cooler anyway. You get to look through all his travelling stuff too!"
"Yeah, I guess he is." Armin's smile returned to his face. It was a only a few blocks away to the stadium, and their coats protected them from the cold.
"So what else have you gotten for your birthday?" Armin asked.
"I don't know yet. Mom and Dad won't let me open my presents until tonight."
"Make sure you tell me what you got tomorrow. Hey, is that Jean?" Armin squinted at a figure in the distance.
"I think it is," Eren sighed, annoyed.
"It's definitely Jean." Mikasa said. "You can tell by the way he's walking that he's got something to say."
"Shall we just hide?"
"He's already seen us." Armin said.
Before they had reached the end of the block, Jean Kirstein walked over to them, brandishing a ticket in his hand.
"Look what I managed to get!" He said. No matter how much he tried to hide it, a hint of his German accent was still detectable in his voice.
"Is that for today's game?" Armin asked.
"Yep," Jean said, "I know you guys would love to hang out with me, " He laughed.
"We're going to buy tickets, actually." Eren said to him, scowling.
"Calm down, Jaeger, isn't it Mikasa's birthday?" He turned to her. "Sorry for making your boyfriend mad, Mikasa. "
"Lay it off, Jean." Eren threatened.
Mikasa glared at him, but the blush on her cheeks provided Jean with the reaction he desired.
"Happy birthday," he winked, and fell into step with them. "Looks like I'm going to just have to put up with you lot then. I was going to go and watch the game with the older kids, but you guys will have to do."
They reached the stadium, and Armin bought the tickets. "Well, don't you want to go and tell them you're going to be with us?" He said, looking at Jean skeptically.
"What, the older kids?" He laughed, his eyes breaking contact with Armin's. He ran a hand through his mousy hair. "No, they'll probably come find me or something."
They sat at the top row of the stadium, with a perfect view of the field.
"How long until the game starts?" Eren asked, bored.
"Ten minutes or so, I guess," Armin said, cleaning his glasses with his sleeve.
"Let me try them on!" Jean said, swiftly taking them from Armin's grasp and putting them on. He batted his eyelashes. "Hey, Eren, do I look like a pretty boy now?"
"Knock it off, Jean," Armin said, hurt.
"Anyone know where any boys are around here?" Jean said, pretending to comb his hair.
Mikasa glared at him. "Jean. Stop."
"Eren, really!" Jean threw his arm around Eren, who was glaring at him too. He stopped laughing. "Here, fine. Take them back. They were giving me a headache anyway."
They sat awkwardly in silence for several minutes before the game started. The stadium was full and erupted into cheers when they players walked onto the field. Immediately Armin began keeping track of the score aloud, and as always, a group of people started to form around him, listening intently as he explained to them who was winning and when points were scored.
"Cough up, folks, he isn't doing this for free, you know!" Jean said to the men in the crowd.
"How old are you? Shouldn't you be with your mother instead of charging strangers to listen to a kid?" One man said.
"Sir, with all due respect, why don't you keep track of the score yourself?" Jean asked, grinning slyly. "A dollar or he stops!"
"Shouldn't you be giving this to Armin?" Mikasa said to Jean after he had finished collecting from the crowd.
"Lunch is on me, seeing as it's your birthday, but that's all I'm giving out, okay?"
"I don't want it anyway." Armin said. "Keep it."
"Fine," Jean said, suddenly angry at the fistful of dollars in his pocket. He sat down and watched the game from his seat, not saying a word until it was over.
Mikasa left the game feeling bubbly and happy. Sport always filled her with excitement, and she was eager to find a wagon where they could buy hot food. Jean kept unusually quiet, lagging behind with Armin when Eren challenged Mikasa to a race to the end of the block. The streets were bustling with people, and Mikasa and Eren weaved in and out of them as they ran, laughing and trying not to slip in the snow. Mikasa won, as she always did, and stood panting and grinning while she and Eren waited for Jean and Armin to catch up.
Eventually they came across a wagon selling hot potato chips and frankfurters, sheltered from the snow by several large umbrellas. Jean cheered up slightly after buying lunch for them all, and the four of them sat together on a park bench.
Tired and slightly shivery, Mikasa laid her head on Eren's shoulder and closed her eyes. She could smell the leftovers of her potato chips and hear Armin and Jean talking, while Eren sat peacefully with her. Everyone had calmed down now that the adrenaline of the sports game had worn off and their stomachs had been sated with food. Jean gave her a dollar and an apologetic look.
Years later, when Mikasa looked back on this moment, it made her happy, yet filled her with a longing that drove her to despair. These were her last memories of them.
"I'll come down to yours after I have dinner and open my presents, okay?" Mikasa said to Eren that evening.
He pulled her into a hug. "Let's sit on the fire escape if it isn't too cold. I'm sure Mom will make us some cocoa."
"That sounds pretty good. See you later!"
When Mikasa opened the door to her apartment, it looked more like Eren's than her own. Things were scattered everywhere - the table was covered in books; bags stuffed with clothes lay next to the door.
"Mikasa!" Her mother shouted to her. Mikasa had never seen her mother afraid until that moment. She saw it in her ruffled blouse, the strands of hair falling from her bun; she saw it in her mother's eyes, and it terrified her.
"Mom?" She could feel fear rising in her. "What's this? What's going on? Dad?" Mikasa turned, and saw a man she had never seen before standing in her living room.
"Mikasa, this man is called Erwin." Her mother drew in a deep breath, trying to stop her voice from becoming shrill with panic. "I used to know him back when I lived in Japan."
"In Japan? Dad? What is going on?"
Her father knelt down and put his hand on Mikasa's shoulder. "Sweetie, I'm sorry, but we have to leave New York."
"What? What do you mean? How long for?"
Mikasa's father looked at her mother; she nodded. "Forever." He said.
Mikasa laughed a shrill, nervous laugh. "What are you talking about?" She said. "We can't leave New York, I'm going to meet Eren after dinner…"
"Go and see Eren now." Her mother said, hiding the tears in her voice. "Tell him goodbye, okay?"
"Goodbye? But…"
"We're leaving in ten minutes. Go and say goodbye."
Mikasa looked at her, her heart pounding, turned, and ran out of the apartment.
"Eren!" Mikasa pounded on the door of Eren's apartment. "EREN!"
The door flung open. "Mikasa? What's wrong?"
"I came home and there was mess everywhere, and there was a man there that I didn't know and he was touching our stuff, and I asked Mom what was going on and she said that we're leaving New York forever and that I should come and say goodbye to you-" she burst into tears.
Eren looked at her. His mind was searching for the right words to say but no combination of words seemed to make sense. He laughed.
"You can't leave, though. Why would you leave? When are you coming back?"
"I'm not," she wailed.
"Hey, why are you crying? Come in, sit down." Eren's mother said.
"Mikasa's leaving," Eren said, his voice dull and flat. He didn't sound like Eren. "And she isn't coming back."
"Is this true?" The woman said, disbelieving.
She just nodded as she stared at the wet patch her tears were making on her dress. Eren's mother left in a hurry; they heard her footsteps up the two flights of stairs.
"Maybe we should run away," Eren said.
"Would it mean I'd get to stay with you?" Mikasa asked. Her voice was still choked with tears.
"Of course it would."
"Where would we go?"
"Armin's."
"They'd look for us there." Mikasa sniffed.
They sat in silence for a minute.
"I can't believe we're never going to see each other again. This doesn't make any sense. Where am I going to live? What's going to happen to my apartment?"
"I don't know," Eren said quietly. He hated seeing Mikasa cry. "But write to me from wherever you're going."
"I will."
"Mikasa!" Her mother's voice, filled with the same panic, came from outside. "We're leaving! Now!"
Mikasa didn't move. "I'll write. I'll run away and visit you if I need to."
"Promise me."
"I promise."
"Then it's done."
He hugged her for the last time.
Mikasa grabbed the bag her mother was holding out for her, tears still falling from eyes, and followed the strange man down the six flights of stairs leading to the car that waited outside.
Eren almost began to follow them too, but realised that his birthday gift to her had not been in any of the adult's hands. He ran faster than he ever had, passing his mother, who was sat, looking shell-shocked, on the stairs; he pushed open the unlocked door of the apartment and grabbed the brown package from the corner of the room, where items still lay scattered and discarded on the floor. Then, he was after them, ripping open the paper as he ran, not wanting to delay seeing Mikasa's reaction to his gift. He exited the building just as Mikasa's door slammed shut and the car pulled away.
"Mikasa!" He shouted, running through the snow, ignoring the cold of the night air on his bare skin. The scarlet scarf trailed behind him, and he saw Mikasa's head poke out of the car window, shouting to him too, crying as she saw the only splash of colour against the black sky, grey buildings, and white snow disappear as they turned a corner and were gone.