Chapter-20:

Note: I do not own any of the characters in this story.

Review section:

To Phoenix: Yeah, about that... It's not that easy to explain. Rest assured though. I haven't forgotten it. It's just that you're question may remain unanswered for some time so you'll have to be patient. And yeah, Eren was talking about Mikasa. He feels guilty because he thinks it's his fault that Mikasa ended up like this. (Though it's entirely irrational as he couldn't possibly have done anything to help her since he wasn't even there in the first place.)

To Z: Thanks, glad that you like it. About that shipping thing... I think I'll have to go with it (Even though I don't particularly like that sort of stuff and probably suck at writing them.) because well... there doesn't seem to be another way out.

Kill or be killed. That's what Mikasa had learned over the two months she had spent under her captor.

She circled around her opponent. He was slightly younger than her and he looked frightened. When they had pushed him into the cage to face her, he had fought against them desperately, begging them to let him out. He'd seen what she had done to the previous fighter and he didn't want the same thing to happen to him.

Mikasa pitied him. But she had no choice. Only one of them could survive and if he couldn't save himself, it was his own fault.

She didn't know much about him. Only that his last name was Ackerman too and that he was one of the other unlucky souls who had been captured and sentenced to a life of despair the moment he had entered this desolate hell-hole.

Mikasa had seen it all here. She'd seen a group of killers take out her parents and capture her with the intent of selling her as a slave. When Mikasa had watched them being gunned down by a group of hired mercenaries in turn, she hadn't felt the slightest bit of pity for them. She had even childishly hoped that these mercenaries would save her, may be set her free, or at the very least... kill her so that her suffering would end. But then, she had ended up being here- in the heart of the underground. And she'd met him- the tormentor who was feared by many and known by very few.

She had seen him so many times over the past few months, but still knew very little about him.

They called him the 'Prince' though Mikasa was certain that it wasn't because he had royal blood in his veins.

And no one questioned his authority. Even though he was just a teenager, a few years elder to Mikasa.

Something Mikasa had a hard time comprehending was why this man was obsessed with people having 'Ackerman' in their surname. To her, it had seemed to be a trivial matter at first. But she had soon realized the truth.

There was something special about their blood, something which apparently made them 'better' than the rest. And this man wanted to find out what this thing was, this thing which made them stand out so much.

At first, Mikasa had seen several people like her here, imprisoned together with no place to go to. So many so, that she had a hard time believing that they were all distantly related to her. But as time passed, the numbers had decreased exponentially. And now there were only a few of them left.

The Prince was ruthless. He didn't care about the casualties as long as he got what he wanted.

Mikasa pushed the thoughts away. She needed to concentrate on the fight.

Her opponent gave one last fleeting glance towards the dozens of people who bore witness to their fight, before realizing that there was no way out for him. That beating her was the only way he would survive.

He brought his hands in front of him, and spread his legs apart.

The corner of Mikasa's mouth twitched. Mixed feelings boiled inside her. A part of her felt bad for him and another part found him amusing.

Mikasa never used a battle stance while fighting. Using one would make her opponents feel that she was wary of them, afraid of what they were capable of.

And that would make her lose the edge in battle.

She walked towards the boy slowly. He didn't react, but let her approach.

They were just a few meters away from each other now and the boy had already closed his eyes, his resolve crumbling .

He braced himself for impact, for the pain which was about to follow. He could feel her inching closer and closer.

But all he received was a light tap on his nose. Surprised, he opened his eyes.

And then came the pain.

Mikasa didn't hold back. Her movements were flawless and her attacks deadly. A few hits were all it took to bring the boy to his knees.

But if she thought he was beaten, she was wrong. As she walked towards the boy, he placed his hands on the ground for leverage and kicked her in the stomach.

He must have been much stronger than he looked, because the kick sent her flying back a few meters.

There was a cheer from the audience.

She touched the spot where the kick had landed and winced. She shouldn't have let her guard down so easily. It wouldn't happen a second time.

The boy charged towards her. Mikasa waited.

She counted. 'one...two...three!'

She moved forward with blinding speed and placed one hand on his chest. Then she took another step, lifting him off the ground and then slamming him downwards.

The audience cheered even louder.

Mikasa looked around and her eyes met the Prince's. He nodded and gave the thumbs-down signal.

In these sorts of fights just winning wasn't enough. You had to beat and humiliate your opponent so badly that he wished he was dead.

It was time to finish the job.

Mikasa raised her fist, ready to strike. But then she hesitated.

Several people yelled at her, demanding that she avoid wasting their precious time.

"Get on with it." The boy whispered.

Mikasa closed her eyes, thinking carefully about what needed to be done.

"Finish it!" The boy yelled.

And Mikasa's resolve hardened as she brought her fist down.

The boy grimaced. But he didn't feel anything. How could that be possible?

He could hear the audience howling, but he was confused. What had happened?

He blinked and spotted her fist, an inch away from his face.

He opened his mouth and closed it again, completely bewildered.

Mikasa stood up and offered a hand to him.

"What's your name?" She asked him.

He stared at her, eyes nearly popping out of his skull.

"What is your name?" She repeated a bit louder.

"Ed-Edward" He blurted out. He took her hand and she helped him up.

Mikasa turned to see the Prince glaring at them furiously, His scar rippling horribly against his face.

"Now what?" Edward asked her.

"Now... we're in trouble" Mikasa replied.

Mikasa and Edward where pushed in to the cell by the two henchmen.

The Prince peered at them through the bars.

"Bah... " He muttered. "You've become soft, Mikasa. I'm disappointed in you. Lets see how long your 'friendship' with this fool lasts."

He turned on his heel and walked away, followed by the two henchmen.

Mikasa didn't care. She was tired of hurting people for no reason.

Edward walked towards her.

"Uh...Mikasa?"

She turned to him.

"What is it?" She growled.

"I.. I just wanted to thank you, for uhh... not hurting me. I really appreciate it."

"Forget it. I won't be able to help you a second time."

"I know. But I'm grateful."

Mikasa didn't respond. She had just heard some footsteps nearby and she was curious about who they belonged to.

She crept towards the bar while remaining hidden in the shadows.

And she spotted a figure lurking near the prison door.

Immediately, her hands shot out and grabbed the person by his shirt, lifting him up.

The person yelped and dropped a tray he was holding.

Mikasa frowned. She hadn't expected him to be so small.

Edward crawled forward. "I'll be damned..."

Mikasa glanced at him. "You know this person?"

Edward nodded. 'He's that creep's brother.'

Some of the other prisoners who had remained silent till then and started muttering.

"I never knew the Prince had a brother."

"They're related but, I've heard that he's treated horribly."

"Poor kid's parents died when he was young and now he's stuck with him."

Mikasa turned to the kid. He was very young, maybe around five or six years old. And he was trembling.

Mikasa released him. He dropped down and scrambled away to the opposite wall.

"What's your name?" She asked him.

The boy didn't answer. He just stared at them.

Mikasa stretched a hand towards him.

"We're not going to hurt you." She told him gently.

Slowly, the boy moved closer. He stared at Mikasa for a second before placing both his hands on her palm.

"I'm-I'm Ronnie." He whispered.

"Ronnie... that's a beautiful name."

Ronnie smiled tentatively.

And before, Mikasa could stop herself, she embraced him.

For a moment, the boy forgot how to breath. He stood there, taking it all in and forgetting about everything else.

Mikasa sighed. She wondered when was the last time someone had hugged him. Because she was sure that his elder brother wasn't the caring type.

She could relate to him. She'd lost her parents too. And she knew how it felt, like there was nothing left for you in the world.

She had just met him, but still she wanted to give him some warmth, let him know that he was safe.

She broke away. The boy stood there with his eyes closed.

One of the other prisoners stepped forward and ruffled Ronnie's hair.

"Why are you here, kid?" He asked him.

Ronnie took a deep breath.

"I- I brought you cookies." He muttered.

Mikasa knitted her eyebrows. "What?"

Edward pulled the tray inside.