2
That morning, Mikasa leaves nothing for me but an upturned blanket.
When I start brushing my teeth and washing my face, my mind wanders. That unusual warmth from last night hasn't left, and while it's a pleasant feeling, it also makes me feel a small amount of loathing for myself considering the tragic circumstances. I really do hope that all I'm feeling is the platonic affection of an old friend returning to me, but I'm not so convinced. There is something different about it that's hard to explain. I didn't even feel this way for Annie before that relationship became toxic.
I also keep thinking about him. This is the former fiancee of a deceased, albeit, estranged, friend. It's a disgusting idea to harbor those feelings for the only person Eren was intimate with two years after his unexpected death. Not only is it appalling for Eren's sake, but for Mikasa's sake, too. I know that she is still struggling with the fact her best friend has departed, and instead of thinking about the ways I can help her cope with this terrible fate, my mind is immediately racing to that of a potential romance. It makes me feel sick.
I don't even know if Mikasa will ever contact me again, either. This could have just been a visitation made out of momentary weakness. Mikasa isn't the type to show that softer side of her like she did last night. While I know that she has matured since our adolescence and became more comfortable in showing her emotions, showing her vulnerability to someone like me is a very extraordinary thing for Mikasa to do. She was always unwilling to show her softer side to Eren and I when we were younger because she wanted for us to believe that she was a both strong and indefatigable person. She wanted us to believe this so that we would feel safe, even when Eren and I were bullied a lot during elementary school. She wanted us to be happy.
When I go to work my shift at the restaurant today, I find myself unable to think straight. I cannot stop messing up orders, and after getting chewed out by my manager, Ymir, in front of about a dozen bewildered customers, I try to use that embarrassment to refocus myself on working. I keep messing up, though, and when it's time for break, Ymir has a straightforward talk with me.
"Armin," she begins, taking a seat across from me with her lunch, "weren't you the smart one in our class back in high school?"
I shrug.
"So why the fuck are you working here? At a shitty ass fast food restaurant, where you have someone like me barking at you?"
I scratch my cheek. "Because I never finished my college degree. Also, all the other places near my apartment weren't hiring. The only openings I found were too far away, so I would have just wasted a lot of gas money and ended up with the same profit; all while eating up a lot more time," I say.
"So, why didn't you finish your degree?" she asks, chewing a mouthful of hamburger. "What were you going for?"
"Oceanography, but I stopped because I started to get anxious."
"Anxious?" She stares at me with evident incredulity. "About what?"
"My professor would frequently mark my correct answers incorrect."
"That's it?" she laughs. "Why didn't you just tell the douchebag he was wrong?"
"I did, but he was pretty persuasive. When I used references or statistics to show him he was incorrect, he would turn the other students on me by riling them up." I hesitate momentarily, frowning at the memory. "He wouldn't let me speak with him alone, either. He would make me speak in front of the whole class, and after two years of being laughed at, I just kind of... left. It was around the time Eren passed, too, so my psyche wasn't in the best of places, really."
"That... sucks, actually. You can't make a proper living off of minimum wage, though. Plus, I think you'll lose your sanity working at a place like this your whole life."
I take a sip of my water. "I know. I want to go to another school, but I just haven't found the motivation to do so ever since all that happened. It kind of ruined academia for me in a way. I haven't even read anything educational in awhile, either."
Ymir uses her sleeve to wipe drooling ketchup off of her lip. "You shouldn't let people ruin that for you, though. You don't seem like the person that can survive with an absent mind. You always found a way to keep yourself busy at our school, doing all that weird shit you did." She then takes a sip from her straw even though her soda is completely empty, causing the ice to rattle. "I started going because my girlfriend and me got into an argument about it. I told her that I didn't give a damn about my future, but then she started crying when I said that, and... I really don't like seeing her cry. I kind of start panicking because I don't know what to do."
I give a small laugh. It's nice for Ymir to confirm she has a soft side, even though it's now shown to everyone-err, scratch that. It's nice for Ymir to confirm has a soft side, even though it's shown only to one person. I'm curious who that person may be.
"Yeah, yeah," she sighs, balling up her burger wrapper and burping, "I know what you're thinking. You probably thought I wasn't capable of being nice, didn't you?"
I shake my head. "No, no. I didn't think that. I'm just surprised you're willing to admit it, is all."
I start smiling wider when I see Ymir's poor attempt at concealing her blush. She refuses to make eye contact as she starts eating a few of her french fries. I think I'm starting to irritate her.
"Do you really want me to yell at you in front of a bunch of people again?" she eventually warns in a subdued voice.
With a visibly flustered Ymir, I let a few minutes pass without any more words being said between us. A few of the customers chat amiably with mouths full of half chewed food, and in the far corner of the dining area, I can hear a child crying because she didn't get the toy that she wanted with her meal. With a few minutes before my break being over, I step behind the counter and grab one variant of each toy we're currently giving out. It's for some movie franchise I have not heard of before, but the youth really seem to enjoy it.
"Here," I say, crouching down beside their table with a handful of unopened toys.
A brunette woman, a man with a shaved head, and the small girl whom I assume is their red-haired daughter, all look at me with surprise.
"You didn't get the one you wanted, right? Well, you can have them all."
With the natural timidity of a child, the red-haired girl, looking to be about three to four years old, hesitates before warily plucking the toys out of my palms and smiling. Her mother reciprocates that smile, and her father soon asks her:
"Whaddya say, Riley?"
The small girl mumbles a very incoherent "Thank you," and when I turn to leave, her mother calls out to me.
"Err, hey there. What's your name?" There's a southern drawl to her voice, I notice.
"Armin," I reply.
I briefly shake hands with them.
"Sasha," the brown-haired woman says.
"Connie," the man with the shaved head says.
"We're new in town," Sasha soon explains, "We just moved in, actually. Haven't even unpacked yet, so we were wantin' to get some food in us before gettin' to work."
"I appreciate you giving her those toys, man," Connie chimes in, and I notice that, unlike his wife, his high-pitched voice has no drawl to it. "She doesn't let these types of things go. She really, really doesn't." After he says this, I then notice how exhausted they both look, adorning dark bags under their eyes. I wonder if that's because of parenting or moving?
"No problem," I say with a smile. "I'm sorry to cut this short, but I need return to my station. It was nice meeting you all."
"You too," they both say.
When I'm back behind the counters, I see Ymir shaking her head at me as she resupplies and cleans some of our machinery.
"You're too nice, Armin," she groans. "You're going to make me barf. Seriously."
I drive home that day after my shift feeling somewhat conflicted. I can't help but keep thinking about last night, and when I try to ignore it and realize that it was just a chance encounter, I then remember that wonderful sensation of being able to have a friend to talk to about anything at all. It's been such a long time since I've had that. My mind wanders to all of those ancient times with Eren and Mikasa when I was still so young and naive about everything that was before me. A frown tugs at my lips when I become engrossed in some long, lost memories.
We had these slumber parties at Eren's house where we would all pretend to be asleep because Carla would check on us for the first few hours after our bedtime. When it was safe, though, Eren would wake us all up-on the occasion we did fall asleep-and we would play Mario Kart for hours on his GameCube into the late depths of the night. Mikasa was by far the best player, and even though she was ruthless against me with any shells or weapons she could find, she would always let Eren win, no matter what. Part of it was that Eren would get violently angry if he ever lost, but it was kind of cute when Mikasa did that. I would look over and see that she was deliberately lifting her finger off of the acceleration button, and when she caught me doing so, she would give me this horrible glare-warning me that if I ever did tell Eren, she would probably kick my ass. Carla and Grisha would never understand why we were so tired the next morning. They would wave it off as nervous energy from the previous night.
I miss those times. I really do.
I pull into the parking lot of my apartment complex, and after exiting my battered car with a bit of difficulty from the stiff door, I wander towards the door to my apartment looking at my feet. I startle when I look up to see that there is both a dark-haired woman and a dark-haired man waiting outside of it.
"Mikasa," I announce with some surprise, "H-Hi."
At first, Mikasa's face is affable and calm, but it quickly hardens and her whole face becomes dreadfully sour. She gets these exceptionally dark and cloudy eyes when she's upset. It's hard to explain, but it's like the area around her eyes become entirely void of light. It's really scary.
"W-What's wrong?" I ask nervously.
"Armin," she begins in an dangerously low voice, "when did you start smoking?"
It then dawns on me that there is a lit, half-finished cigarette hanging from my lips. It's a bad habit that started recently. I'm not proud of it, but it helps me when I get sullen. Unfortunately, I've been getting sullen a lot recently.
"U-U-Um," I stammer, "not l-long ago."
In about three seconds, Mikasa is but inches before me, tearing the cigarette from my mouth and stomping heavily upon it. Even though the nicotine stick is completely smashed and destroyed, she continues pounding at it with her foot. Being that she's the strongest person I know, I'm really worried she might break through the concrete if she keeps going at it. She might even shatter a tectonic plate if she keeps it up.
"Boy," the apathetic looking man eventually comments, "it looks like you've really pissed her off. Good job."
After Mikasa concludes stomping that cigarette into absolute oblivion, she then presents her upturned palm before me. An expectant look traverses her continually darkening features. I am completely frozen in both confusion and fear.
"This came from a pack, right?" she growls. "Give me it. Now."
Mikasa has only ever spoken in this daunting tone when dealing with bullies that harassed either Eren or I. Having it spoke in my direction gives me the faint urge to pee myself and run away.
"M-Mikasa," I gently try, "I spent money on those, a-and-"
"-Armin," she immediately cuts me off, "if you don't give me them now, I will forcefully get them from you. It's your choice."
I still cannot move. I'm just too scared.
"I'm waiting," she impatiently reminds me.
I concede, swallowing my nonexistent pride. I rummage through my pockets, retrieve the pack, and dolefully drop it into her palm. She then proceeds to do the exact same thing with the almost empty pack that she did to the singular cigarette. Within seconds, it is trampled and pulverized beyond all recognition.
"Levi," she addresses without looking at the man, collecting the aftermath of destruction into her hands, "wait in the car for us. We'll be there shortly."
He sighs, pushing himself off of the brick wall he was leaning upon. "Fine. This is pretty awkward, anyways."
After Levi leaves, Mikasa stares at me for a very long and uncomfortable sum of time. It's like she's trying to peer into my anatomy to see just how much of me has changed since the simpler days of childhood and adolescence-those simpler days of Mario Kart and sleepless nights. To add to all of this embarrassment, I still have not changed out of my work uniform, meaning that Mikasa now realizes just how far I've fallen from the upstanding student I was before. Do you know those times where you wish you wish you weren't born? Yeah, that's kind of how I feel right about now.
"Armin," she resumes with a very cold voice, "if you would, please let me into your apartment. I need to dispose of this and wash my hands."
"O-Of course," I murmur.
I scramble to find my keys, and after missing the keyhole about five or six times, I eventually jam the key in and get the stubborn door to open. While Mikasa enters the kitchen to do as she said, I head back to my room and change out of my work attire. When I exit my room dressed casually in a T-shirt and jeans, I find her waiting for me in the living room. Her arms are crossed, and while her face has softened slightly, I can tell she is still biting her tongue about everything she has seen. I don't blame her for being disappointed in me.
"You can yell at me if you want to," I say.
She slowly frowns. "Armin," she sighs, gradually unwinding her arms, "I don't want to yell at you. I came here because my brother and I are going out to eat for dinner. I just wanted to know if you wanted to come along."
"Do you still want me to?" I ask.
"Of course I do."
"You don't want to lecture me?"
"You mean about smoking?" Mikasa says. "You probably know more about the side effects than I do; so no, I'm not going to," she pauses briefly. "I'm sorry if I embarrassed you out there, Armin, but if I have the power to stop somebody I care about from hurting and potentially killing themselves, then I'm going to use it. I never got that choice with Eren."
A chill ripples through the air when she mentions Eren in that context, and even though I feel a small pang in my chest thereafter her mentioning it, Mikasa doesn't even flinch. After seeing her in such a condition last night, I know that the looming remembrance of Eren still affects her. She's wearing that same customary armor she did when we were young, and even though I can't see it, I know it's there. But more than anything, I want her to be able to show her vulnerability at her own discretion, because I would never want to make her uncomfortable. You can't help someone without them wanting to be helped. If you try, all it does is hurt them more.
I clear my throat. "Thank you for still worrying about me, Mikasa. I really do appreciate it."
Her face softens, and much to my relief, she smiles for the first time since last night. "We should go," she quietly says. "Levi's really impatient. He'll cause a scene if he gets kept waiting much longer. He's kind of like a middle-aged toddler."
"Oh, um, okay," I nod.
After I turn off the lights and lock the door behind us, we wander outside into the parking lot. The sun is starting to sag lowly in the sky of few clouds, and when I look down, I see Levi crossing his arms and looking as impatient Mikasa said he could be. He's standing beside a pristine black car with a small bottle in his right hand. He notices us and turns his gaze towards me when we approach the car.
"Is he coming?"
"Yes, Levi," Mikasa replies.
When I walk closer towards the car alongside Mikasa, Levi quickly moves in front of me. His stern countenance is completely unreadable, and to be completely honest, he's kind of an unnerving person. His demeanor makes me feel like I'm guilty about something that I'm not even in the awareness of.
"Um, hi," I greet.
"Let me see your hands," he orders without warning.
"Levi," Mikasa chastises.
"It's my car, Mikasa; meaning, it's my rules. Now, stranger, display your hands."
I glance towards Mikasa uneasily, and even though she shakes her head with discernible annoyance, she motions for me to do as Levi says. When I hold out my shaky hands, Levi sternly grabs them and puts his face peculiarly close to them. I can even feel his breath on my skin. This experience thus far is extremely unpleasant, and it's starting to make me feel really insecure about my hands. I almost tear my them away from him when I hear him start making sniffing noises. Much to my relief, he eventually releases my hands, and when he raises his head, he gives an approving nod. Is that a good thing?
"You've passed my inspection, stranger," he indifferently announces. "Your nails are clean, your skin isn't greasy, and is that... coconut?"
"I-I think so?"
He continues to nod approvingly, taking a deep breath. "I think it is very telling of a person's conduct based upon the condition, or lack thereof, of their hands. If they keep their hands clean and odorless, then I believe them to be respectable. If they keep their hands dirty and fetid, then I believe them to be unwholesome and should be discarded like the trash that they are. Surely you can understand that?"
I'm not sure I do.
"For precautionary reasons," he continues, holding up a bottle of hand sanitizer, "would you please allow me to apply some of this to your hands for decontamination purposes? Afterward, I will give you permission to enter my vehicle."
He squirts out an endless amount of hand sanitizer onto my hands, and when I rub my hands together, he watches me do so with the utmost attention. Because of how much sanitizer there is, it takes me about five minutes to rub it all in. The skin on my hands actually starts to faintly burn. Once my skin finally absorbs the sanitizer, he nods at me again and makes his way to the driver's side door. Mikasa and I enter the backseats thereafter. When he turns on the car, we all almost go deaf for the fact that heavy metal music blares into our ears at what I'm pretty sure is full volume. Even though Levi turns it down swiftly, Mikasa glares at him in the same horrible way she did to me moments ago.
"I was bored when you were up there," Levi explains. "I had no choice."
Hey everybody,
I decided to continue this one-shot because I thought the universe behind it was too much to pass up on. Being that life is life and usually gets complicated, I can't guarantee that this story will get finished in its entirety. I have some ideas, however, and I will probably start working on the next chapter soon. Thanks again to everybody for reading, reviewing, adding this story to favorites, and following it. It means a lot to me. I appreciate your support. Also, I've returned to this chapter to update any typo's. I had a few in there after updating this when I was quite tired. Sorry about that.
-Arreku97