See you Later, Eren Chapter 18
Title: Love and Hate
OH MY GODDDDDDDD I FINALLY DID IT. I finally got this monster of a chapter out! Omg omg omg omg omg I can't stop freaking out. It's been two and a half months! I cannot apologize enough for taking so long. I hope I didn't lose too many of you after such a long time, but there's no avoiding that some people may have given up on the fic. If you're reading this then hopefully that's not you! I appreciate you guys so much for encouraging me the entire way through, and I hope beyond hope that you guys love this Eremika focused chapter every bit as much as I do. I poured my heart and soul into this one, so I really hope you enjoy!
As for why I took so long... In a word: University
My second year here has been astronomically more difficult than my first, due mostly to me actually having in-person classes to attend, which means more time at school, more time on the daily commute, and more time sleeping off the exhaustion. It also didn't help that this chapter ended up being incredibly hard for me to write, emotionally draining me after just about every scene. I've rewritten a couple scenes in particular more times than I can count, and that is my explanation for the long time gap. But it doesn't account for the pertinent fact that I've just had a harder time writing these past couple of months. It's been more difficult to sit down and put some words onto the page. I'm hoping that with this chapter, I can continue my track record of writing consistently as I have the past week or so, and obviously I hope to keep updating this wayyyyy more consistently in the future. But I've rambled enough.
Please do enjoy!
P.S. I totally recommend rereading the past chapter/few chapters to refresh your memory of what's been going on if you feel like it :) -Y
Eren gazes at himself.
At the same time, however, he is looking at someone completely alien. He has never met this man before. His green eyes are dark, and there's no emotion on his face. No passion, no rage, no joy, there's nothing.
It looks like the same person he saw a few weeks ago, in his dreams. This... different Eren.
"What..."
And just like last time, he stands in the corner, observing. As if a scene of a performance was playing out before him, and he is only a member of the audience. Though the room he and his other self are in is pristine, with carpeted floors, white, windowed walls, and an ornate grandfather clock, that is not the first thing to catch his eye. The first thing that he notices are the other people that sit in the room, across the table.
Armin and Mikasa...
The two people he cares about more than anything in this world.
And he blinks. He blinks because he can't really believe his eyes. "They're older, too," he realizes. Armin looks more or less the same, with perhaps a more defined jawline, courtesy of his age. If Eren had to guess, he'd say they're in their twenties.
Mikasa wears shorter hair, even shorter than it is now. The strands fail to work their way to her jawline, not capable of covering her ears. And even though it's a strange look on her... his heart still shines in a way it always seems to do when he's around her. She's still beautiful.
But she looks so sad. Her face only wears a concentrated frown, but Eren knows a sad Mikasa when he sees one. Her eyes tell a story, one of confusion, pain, heartbreak, and Eren doesn't know why.
Her words don't clear anything up, either.
"No, you're being manipulated."
"Manipulated?" He couldn't guess, not in a hundred years, what she's talking about, but there isn't an ounce of this dream that makes any sense anyways. She's talking to the older Eren, so it doesn't really matter. Right?
This Eren shoots her an unimpressed glance, as if he expected her to say something like that, or her words just don't phase him in the slightest. It makes a shiver run down Eren's back. He can't remember the last time he looked so dead inside, especially when Mikasa was the one talking to him.
The older Eren keeps his face as she continues. "You'd never get innocents or children involved, even those from an enemy nation. And you care about us more than anything else!"
Eren scrunches his brows deeply, letting out an involuntary "huh?" at her words. "What am I doing with children? What's a nation? Why does she have to remind me that I care about her and Armin?"
The last question is paramount in his mind. Why would that ever be necessary? He couldn't pretend like he didn't care about Armin and Mikasa even if he tried, right? Although... with the way this older Eren looks, he'd probably feel the need to remind him of it, too.
The older Eren remains silent, face unmoved, and with it Mikasa's brows arch upward, eyes wide in a desperate plea to get him to react, and it starts to eat Eren up. "C'mon, Eren, do something, say something! She's worried about you!"
She scoots out of her chair, hands moving to clutch her scarf, and Eren feels his heart shake in puzzlement. "Am I wrong? Back when you saved me, in that cabin in the mountains, when you wrapped this scarf around me, that was your kindness-"
"I said keep your hands on the table." His voice, though louder, is desolate.
Eren's heart stops as Mikasa slowly sits back down. Her face is hurt beyond anything he's ever seen, and it makes his insides plummet. "H-Hey! What are you doing?!" he shouts to himself, but it's futile. Just like his last dreams, no one can hear him.
But it doesn't matter. He continues to pour his confusion and anger out. "Why would you say that? Why are you such a prick? Why to Mikasa?!"
In the last dream he had with his older self, he didn't have much of an opinion on him. Nothing he said made any sense, so he just ignored it, but now he's talking to Mikasa, he's being such an asshole to her and he can tell, he can tell so easily that it's tearing her up inside. He knows exactly how much he means to Mikasa, and he knows he would never say something like that.
His older self begins talking again, but he can only stare at Mikasa's eyes, the stormy gray blues that have brought so much good into his life, as they tremble. It appears she can't believe what she's hearing as much as Eren. Old Eren, the one he cannot even consider to be the same person anymore, talks about Annie, and how Bertholdt has taken over Armin's brain?
"What the hell is this? Why does nothing make sense?!" he desperately wonders. Because now he has to know. Now he has to know why his older self would ever say something like that to Mikasa. His Mikasa...
"And you're no better, Mikasa," he says, and Eren silences his thoughts to listen.
"The Ackerman family was formed to protect the king of Eldia. That day, you obeyed my orders in a life or death situation. 'Fight.' That situation awakened your instincts, and they tricked you into feeling the need to protect me."
"Huh?" Eren lets out. It's clear that whatever older Eren is telling Mikasa is not good news just by looking at her face, but it truly makes no sense to the boy. Why does none of this make sense? Isn't this supposed to be his dream?
"You're wrong." The words barely make it past her lips, a saddened but resolved whisper.
"I am? About what?"
"It wasn't just a coincidence. It was you. You're the reason I became strong. You gave me that strength!" her eyes are begging for him to understand.
Eren feels tears poke at the corners of his eyes as he looks at her. "Mikasa..."
"When an Ackerman's powers awaken," the older version continues, "they supposedly experience sudden headaches. Because their original identity tries to fight back the compulsion to protect the host. Sound familiar?"
Her eyes widen, an ancient fear peeking past her quaking irises.
"No."
"In other words..."
"You're wrong. I..." She interrupts, eyes no longer focused on anything.
"You're part of a family that lost its original identity and now exists only to follow orders."
Eren gasps. "There's no way in hell that's true... that's-"
"A slave."
Eren takes a step back. Utterly speechless.
"Stop it, Eren!" Armin yells, and Eren can only agree with his best friend, he can only reach out with his soul and hope that Armin can shut his older self up, never to release his voice again. Anger bubbles in the pit of his gut as the words sink in, and he feels helpless. He can't do a thing. Mikasa is on the verge of tears and he can't do a damn thing!
"You know what I hate the most in this world? Anyone who isn't free. They're no more than cattle."
Eren takes a slow, tortured gasp, his eyes brimming with tears of anger and sheer bafflement. He can hear Armin's shout, but he doesn't even know what he said. All he can see is Mikasa's face, as it slowly but surely crumbles to a million pieces, worse than he's ever seen in his entire, horrible life.
"Just the sight of her always made me sick, and now I finally know why. I couldn't stand looking at a slave whose existence amounted to only following orders."
"Eren... stop it... stop it now!" his words die before they can escape his throat, not that it would have made a difference anyways.
"Mikasa. Ever since we were kids, I've always hated you."
Eren gasps. His heart blazes, it roars more than it ever has. More than when Jean would tease him, more than when a titan first ate Thomas, more than anything. It burns, but when he sees Mikasa, the small, anguished tears that finally escape her broken eyes, Eren's heart shrivels into nothing.
In this moment she cries, but all he can see is the little girl he saved, trembling and sobbing as she curls into a ball. Cold, alone, afraid. And then he sees the Mikasa he knows, hugging him for dear life in the mountains as she says those words. "Stay... please... I need you..."
She needs him.
"Eren! You fucking monster! I'll kill you!" he cries as he tackles his older self, and to his shock, it works. Their bodies connect and they both fall to the floor with a thump, and as Eren lays atop the devil he will become, he throws his fists wildly at him. One, two, three hits, and his older self starts to cry.
"How dare you?! You don't deserve to cry!" he shouts with a thundering rage as his older self's tears start to soak his fist, while he continues to pummel his face in.
"I'm sorry..." the nineteen year old boy says through tears and punches and blood. Again and again.
...
Eren awakes, eyes shooting open to reveal fresh tears that fall down his face. He quickly wipes them, but they continue to fall despite his insistent rubbing. The reality of his situation hits him in an instant. He just had a dream. He's still in their room. In the underground. On a shitty, creaky bed next to his best friend who has a very hard time sleeping without him. The cool air of the underground hits him hard, and he catches his own heart rate beating impossibly fast.
"You had a nightmare... you had a nightmare, Eren. It's just a dream, get over it. You're not eleven years old anymore." He hopelessly tries to convince himself. It may not have been real, but it certainly feels like it was. More than any dream he's had in a long, long time, it feels real. And as he takes a look to his left to see the girl by his side, still fast asleep and clutching the sleeve of his arm like a lifeline, he has to fight the tears all over again.
Her face isn't peaceful. It never is anymore. But it's a far cry from the anguish he had seen her in as he dreamt. She has no idea what he said, but at the same time, it feels like she does.
He shouldn't feel bad. Not only was it not real, but it wasn't even him who said he hated her, it was... himself... but older. It doesn't make any damn sense. If it were anyone else, he would have beat them up and been done with it, but it was him who said those words, and he cannot fathom why. He knows exactly how much he means to her, how much she depends on him emotionally, so he knows what he saw on her face was only a fraction of the pain she must have felt inside. She was never one to lay it all out to bare, but those eyes tell him everything he would ever need to know, and they, for the first time he's seen in his life, were in shambles.
He stares at her soft face, marred only by the raised line of flesh that sits under her eye, and feels his heart twist in guilt. The beating essence of his soul, wrung out like a damp towel that squeezes out his blood, and he can only blame himself. "I'm sorry..." he lets out, in the softest of whispers.
He truly can't believe he would ever say something like that. He just can't. It's not even true, it didn't even happen, but he can't believe his mind would even create such a world in which he said that to her. It's not true, not an ounce of it. She is not a slave, she never has been. More than anyone, she's the one to dictate his actions, to push him in another direction, physically, if she has to. She does it because they're home to each other, because they care about each other, because...
Eren sighs, brushing the hair that's fallen past her nose away from her face, tucking behind the back of her ear. He really likes her haircut now, but there was also something nice about getting to see her little ears in that dream. He couldn't decide which one he likes more.
Her being a slave may be unequivocally false, but what is even less true is the notion that he hates her. No. Not in a million lifetimes. He could never hate Mikasa. She annoys him some of the time, especially when he didn't understand why she followed him, thinking it was out of some sense of debt that she had to repay. But no, he could simply never hate her. Not Mikasa. Not the girl he risked his life to save, the one he never wanted to join the military so she could be safe, the one he thinks about every time something good happens, something that makes him smile. Never.
He's more likely to hate anyone and everyone else. He'll hate the entire world before he hates her.
Whatever the opposite of hate is... that's what he feels. Yeah. That's it.
Despite himself, he gently places a hand behind her head, tucking her into the crook of his neck and wrapping his arm around her. He's surprised by how warm she is with her forehead pressed against his neck, her cheek against his chest, but he shouldn't be. Mikasa was always warm, even at her coldest. He can attest to it with the countless nights he spent cuddling with her when she had nightmares. When they were kids and he thought nothing of it.
"Mikasa..."
And though his heart is hurt, battered by the contents of his dream, the small noises, the little exhales and inhales that escape and enter her slightly parted lips as she sleeps heal it completely.
Slowly, she even starts to let go of his sleeve, unconsciously nuzzling further into him.
Her first thought is that her dream isn't real. Sometimes it's a strange transition from dream to reality. Her dreams could be so vivid that she has a hard time even accepting that it never happened. And she prefers not to think about her vivid nightmares under any circumstances.
Luckily, Mikasa did not struggle with either of these dreams. Her sleep was nice and null. There was nothing, at least of what she can recall. Perhaps there was something, but if she can't remember it, then what point is there in acting like it ever existed? What point is there in acting like anything unpleasant existed? Everything is perfect just the way it is.
She lets out a small puff of air through her nose. Her heart fills with dangerously content thoughts. And why shouldn't it? Despite her remembering that their place in the Underground was cold, so cold that only her and Eren's combined covers were enough to keep the chill at bay, she's so warm.
And that's her second thought. She's warm and she's happy. Regardless of what today, tomorrow, next week, or any of the future will bring, she's happy now.
But as she wakes up, the whirlwind of her existence crashing around her and assailing her mind, she has a third thought. It isn't so much of a thought as it is a feeling, and it isn't so much of a feeling as it is a lack of one. Particularly around her left hand.
The cotton of Eren's shirt has disappeared. For a miniscule, momentary point in time, she has absolutely no idea where Eren is. But before her heart rate can spike up too high, before she can ponder how she ever fell asleep if she wasn't holding Eren's shirt, or hand, or something, she feels a faint pulse tickle her cheek. Again, and again, and again. The pulse of a heartbeat. Not a moment later, her entire head lifts, only to fall back down in short order, a faint sound escaping a nose that does not belong to her.
She puts the pieces together, her anxiety floating away like a log on the small creek that once sat by her house, pushed by the steady rhythm of Eren's breath.
"Eren is here. He's sleeping."
Then she really puts the pieces together, and her face flushes. His arms are wrapped around her tightly, a hand tucked behind her head, similar to how he would always hug her. Her cheek is flush against his chest, the itchy fabric a poor barrier to the sheer warmth of his skin. Overall, she's simply enveloped by Eren. They're cuddling.
She doesn't dare move. The realization makes her swell with joy, a type of joy she can so rarely experience. It's like she's trapped within a permanent hug, a constant reminder of Eren's presence and safety. But soon, she finds herself snuggling into his chest even more, because why not? And with it, she rediscovers a more ancient reason she always loved to cuddle with him, back when they were kids. It was because she felt safe with him. She felt protected, as she does now.
It's a silly thing now, Mikasa thinks. She's known for a while how strong she is, and when coupled with her prescience, she hasn't really been one to allow herself to feel safe around Eren. It's always been about protecting him. She'd throw away any semblance of comfort just to know he was alright. She could fall asleep on a worn wooden bench as long as it was by his bedside, and she has done that before, multiple times. Mikasa knows exactly why as well. His safety is the only comfort she's ever needed, and she's okay with that. This world is cruel, and there are times when she feels selfish just wishing for him to always be okay. His safety is just as much for her as it is for him. It's for her peace of mind, her contentment.
This is all to say that a part of her has forgotten what it feels like to feel safe in someone's arms. She has trouble distinguishing what constitutes as someone else's safety and her own. After all, what does she have to gain from worrying about herself, when making sure Eren is okay makes her so much happier?
But she has to indulge right now. They're resting in their house, hundreds of feet underground, far from all that could do them harm, and for some reason Eren has elected to bring her closer to him. Not that she's complaining.
She wonders what caused it, though. Throughout the past week of her and Eren sharing a bed, she made an effort to respect his space as much as possible. Just in case he was doing it only for her, and not because he particularly liked it. She had to at least hold on to his sleeve, of course. Just to confirm he was still there, just to connect herself to some vestige of Eren's soul. She recognizes that holding his sleeve, in and of itself, was an indulgence. But Eren wasn't stopping her, so...
So there she rests. Her happy place, without a shadow of a doubt.
It's only when her eyes begin to droop, when she feels the black wave of sleep start to envelop her being, does she feel a hand touch her cheek. It jolts her awake, her eyes fluttering open.
"Hey..." Eren lets out in a melancholic hum, a strained smile on his face. She's surprised they're staring face to face with each other considering the position she thought they were in. She wonders if she moved... which is unlikely... maybe he moved? The raven haired girl isn't pleased by the change, but it's negligible compared to the concern that's so obviously etched into his emerald eyes.
"What's wrong?"
His smile grows wider ever so slightly, a light exhale flowing out of his cute little nose. But it almost seems like his eyes only shine more with sadness. "Nothing..."
That won't do. She knows he's lying, and in the pit of her stomach, she fears that it's her that's making him sad. "Does he not like to sleep like this? Or is it just because I forced him down here? Is he tired of being with me?"
Eren seems to notice the trepidation in her eyes, because he grabs her hand, silently telling her to calm down. "It was a nightmare."
She blinks. Mikasa should be soothed by the revelation, but a part of her still holds anxiety. "What was it about?"
"I don't really know..."
She can't tell if he's lying. Eren shifts in the bed, sitting upright to look out the window. She immediately feels his absence, laying a hand on the pillow where his head once laid. "It's morning, I think," he reminds her.
The onyx eyed girl sighs, forcing the anxious thoughts about his nightmare from her mind, like she's done countless times before. If she broke herself every time she had reason to worry about Eren, she'd be in pieces by now.
As she sits up as well, she lifts her shoulders and extends her arms, stretching out the sleep from her bones. However, Eren interrupts her. "I..."
Mikasa pauses, looking at him with wide eyes as he stares at his legs. Her heart slows, watching him look as if he was on the verge of telling her something. And if it's hard for him to say, she reasons that she'd be interested in hearing it.
"I don't..."
The silence is deafening. And in an effort to coax it out of him, she holds his hands in hers. He looks down at her hands, and in the blink of an eye she realizes that it was the wrong thing to do on her part. His eyes shift to greet the purple and red of her knuckles, the light scabs that dot her wrist, and they both know what it's from.
"Don't you have somewhere to be?" he asks, the soft complexion of his voice whisked away by his signature repressed anger.
Mikasa looks at him with pleading eyes, nowhere near happy enough to end the conversation there, but there's nothing to be done. She's already indulged too much, and she has to steal away before she drowns in her own adoration and concern. She has a job to do.
Perhaps that's why she's able to convince herself to pull her hands away with a sigh. "You should be glad he decided to talk to you at all, after last night..."
"Yes." Her voice is quiet.
Upon her return from Miller's ambush on the Military Police, the brown haired boy was a fireball of emotion. It couldn't be considered anything other than a massive success, after all, they were both safe and sound, but that was the last thing on Eren's mind. The sight of her bruised state, especially the cuts on her hands, let loose a floodgate of repressed emotion. She should have considered herself lucky that she was even able to convince him to stay home that day, but it invariably led to his outrage. Was it his concern for her? Was it his distaste towards injustice? Was it his feelings about Ingrid and the other people he knew? She doesn't know, but it ultimately didn't matter.
The fallout of his emotion, all things considered, was miniscule compared to what she deserves, and she ought to be thankful for that. Besides, it would be more apt to call it a Mikasa-Fireball. Unlike the bouts of rage and petulance he so often released at acquaintances and friends alike (even Armin, at times), with her, he would be different. It's by no means pleasant, in fact Mikasa might even go as far as to say she prefers it when he's being explosive and outward, but when he's angry at her, he makes her feel it. He's quiet, a permanent, cold frown scarring his face. And more often than not, she knows she's in the wrong.
It's a constant war in her mind, fighting against the paradox that is her mind, the paradox that is her actions, and the paradox that is Eren. She can hardly live with the knowledge of what he believes. That he hates her. Is it true? She will probably never know, but it's situations such as these where she undoubtedly feels like he does. Why shouldn't he? She has the audacity to risk her life fighting for an utterly unjust cause, acting as if it's something she has to do because of circumstances that she put them in? Eren has had no say in what has been going on recently; she would be a fool to miss it.
If she had a bronze for every time her mind ran down this road, however, she wouldn't have to work a day in her life. There is no reconciling, no resolving. She wants Eren to be safe and that's it. She isn't Armin, or Erwin, or even Jean. She cannot possibly account for everything that could go wrong and she isn't capable of thinking of a solution by sheer force of wit. Is she digging herself a deeper hole? Maybe, but she doesn't know what else she can do.
And as she slips into new clothes, Eren staring out the small window of their room, she thinks to say sorry. But there's only so far a sorry can get her. There are no words to be said.
It's back to business as usual, less than a day later. While there are still workers scrubbing out the blood that's stained the wood and stone, still looking for remnants of human chunks. It's extraordinary, Eren thinks. Anywhere else, such a blow dealt to the preeminent authority of humanity would have resulted in a mass panic. Families would have stayed in their homes or fled, and the military response would be swift and overwhelming. Or at least he would have assumed the military police as preeminent, were it not for his assorted experiences here. No other place on earth was decadence so rampant, and if it weren't for the fact that he got used to it, as well as having Mikasa to keep him sane, he doesn't think he'd last long in a place like this. He just isn't meant to be here.
That's what makes things so difficult. It isn't black and white like he could always count on things to be. Mikasa's actions were digging a deeper hole for the both of them, trapping them here longer and longer, and despite it all, Eren hasn't the power to do anything about it. He doesn't even have the power to be mad at Mikasa, it seems. It's hard enough on its own, what with the way she always stares at him in sorrow, or the way she explains herself curtly and logically. Don't even get him started on what happens when he gets really angry. He's not an oblivious idiot, at least not with Mikasa, so he can see how his anger tears at her. She's only ever willing to be vulnerable with him, and it stings beyond reprieve to see her actually show that vulnerability, to suffer, because of his inability to keep his cool.
But it's even harder now. His dream dominates his thoughts, plaguing every action he takes towards her with hesitation and regret. He doesn't hate her. He doesn't hate her. The thought that he does acts like a parasite, chewing on his soul with every grim reminder. Even now, as he carries a crate wet with blood to dispose of, a stark reminder of Mikasa's actions, or at least the actions she helped to precipitate, staring him right in the eyes, he struggles to even pay it mind.
He can't help but equate it to his mothers old lullabies. Every once and a while, when he was bored in his home town of Shiganshina, the familiar tune would begin to play in his head. Sometimes, it would keep repeating, to the point where it would actively annoy him. It was a self fulfilling prophecy, as the more he tried to forget it, the harder it would become. His dream is the same, though on a much more harrowing scale. It makes being angry so much more difficult.
As Eren arrives at his destination by the dock, he sets his crate down. It only adds to the collection of boxes, towers of red and worn brown looming over him, the stench forcing him to take a step back. He sighs as he lays his eyes upon the sight. A monument to the Underground if he's ever seen one. Despite the mass slaughter that had taken place, committed with absolute impunity by Miller's gang, nothing will be done about it, other than removing the evidence as quickly as possible. It makes his blood boil.
"This isn't gonna fit on one boat," the usually snarky voice of Ingrid wears a pressed tone, causing Eren to do a double take, unsure if he was hearing the same girl. He looks to his right, seeing her emerge from a couple of boxes.
"Are you immune to the smell or something?" is what first comes to Eren's mind, letting it out without a thought. The girl doesn't react kindly to it, maintaining her grim face as she starts to walk back from where they came. Eren can't help but wonder why she looks so disgruntled as he turns to walk with her, wanting nothing more than to keep himself away from those boxes.
It should be obvious though, right? They're not exactly in an enviable position, playing janitor for a bloodbath. Eren ponders whether Mikasa took part in it. She clearly fought, if the cuts on her hands are evidence of anything, but did she kill? He doesn't want to think about it.
"What's wrong with you?" he tries to take his mind off of Mikasa, massaging his strained wrists.
"Smells like shit," she answers curtly, until she revises her statement a few seconds later. "Worse..."
Eren thinks to chuckle, but it doesn't seem like either are in the mood for it. Instead he remains silent, perhaps too used to the long intervals of silence he would share with Mikasa when they were together.
There he goes again, thinking about the raven haired girl.
Luckily, Ingrid raises her voice again. "That's a whole day's worth of supplies you were looking at back there, in case you were wondering."
Eren catches the bite of her tone, raising a questioning brow. "Eh? What's wrong with you?" he repeats, this time with a bit more temper.
The girl shrugs. "I didn't see you here yesterday. I just wanted to alleviate any confusion you might've had."
The brown haired boy, though slightly impressed that she knew the word "alleviate," ignores the thought and continues. "It doesn't take a genius to know why there's a shit ton of boxes by the dock. I heard about what happened."
"Oh? Who'd you hear it from? From Mikasa?" she finally looks him in the eyes, an uncharacteristically indignant flare to her expression. Eren's eyes widen.
"Huh?" he stutters out.
"How long have you known her?"
"W-What?" he asks, surprised by the sudden question. "Why do you care?"
She looks down in contemplation. "You're an idiot. Plus if you were in on it, there's no reason you'd be dragging your ass back to this job..." Eren frowns at the insult, but refrains as she stops her movements. "You can't trust that girl."
Eren stutters, surprised at how hostile he is to the idea that he can't trust his closest friend. "Why not?"
"Don't play dumb with me, Eren. Not for your goddamn girlfriend. I saw her yesterday and I know she's a part of Miller's gang. Why else would you coincidentally be away on the one day there was an attack on the Military Police?"
He can only sigh at this. Maybe in a different situation he would have kept fruitlessly attempting to argue with her. But these are human lives they're dealing with, Eren recognizes. He glances to his left, blood still stained on the stone walkway, and it strikes him that he has no way of confirming that that wasn't caused by Mikasa. Or worse, came from Mikasa. He doesn't remember seeing any kind of wound that would have been big enough to bleed profusely, but then again, it's not like he's regularly inspecting her, and she can be awfully secretive about these things.
"Yeah..." Eren admits. "I'm sorry I didn't warn you. I didn't know myself until it was already about to happen."
"I don't care about you." Her voice is still straight, unfeeling. "I'm saying you shouldn't trust her."
Eren narrows his eyes, looking to her again. "It sure sounds like you care about me." He can't help but combat her angering tone.
She wipes her nose with her arm. "I don't think you're a bad person. But she is."
The comment is enough to ignite Eren's highly flammable temper. "Oi, nobody asked for your opinion on it," he remarks. He stops himself from scowling deeply, halted by the weight of the sympathy he has for Ingrid. He obviously doesn't approve of what Mikasa did, and he understands where Ingrid's coming from, but he's never appreciated his friends being insulted like that.
"Besides," Eren continues, "Why would you care? I thought you were only worried about surviving." Truly, he's surprised to see Ingrid so principled in this regard, seeing as how she's as rugged and opportunistic as they come. People get murdered here everyday, and she's worried about the Military Police?
"Anyone who thinks they need to join a gang to survive is a dumbass."
Despite the sympathy he has for Ingrid, all of Eren's culminating feelings towards Mikasa begin to tick, manifesting in a sharp rage. "Shut the hell up! You don't know the situation we're in!"
"And do you? It didn't sound like you agreed with what she was doing. Or are you just too busy thinking with your dick to care?"
The brown haired boy furrows his brows sharply, a harsh red tint adorning his face. "Huh?! What's that supposed to mean?!"
She sighs, putting a hand on her head. "You're a good person, Eren. I know you're obsessed with her, but you gotta believe me. Criminals are bad news. I survived this long by remembering that."
"She has no idea," Eren thinks. He knows exactly why she brought him here, he knows exactly why she feels that she needs to join a gang. It's exactly because he can trust her with his life that he's even okay with her being in one in the first place.
"And the only reason I have to survive this is because shithead criminals like her are the reason I got no one else, idiot," she practically whispers, eyes shining with a newfound emotion. Even though she's a few inches shorter than him, Eren feels himself shrinking under her gaze, shocked by her revelation.
Eren gasps, watching as she sticks her hands in her pockets, glancing down at the ground. "My dad was a good person like you... but we were in debt to some crooks when I was a kid. He couldn't pay 'em back, so they killed him."
"Ingrid..." his face falls, the memory of his own parents coming to the forefront of his mind. He can see the pain on her face as she details her dad, letting out a light laugh. "He even kinda looked like you. Green eyes, brown hair... an idiot..."
She sighs, looking back up at him. "My mom was a little smarter. She put me to work and did whatever she could to repay the rest of the debt. She told me that it was entirely paid off, but she disappeared anyway."
As Eren looks into her amber eyes, the ones that look like his mom's, he realizes he understands completely. He lost his mom to the titans, and his dad disappeared without a trace. She must feel the same way about the criminal underworld of humanity, and she's trying to keep him out of it while she can. But as he stares into her eyes, thinking of his mom, of his family, of Mikasa... he realizes that he isn't the one who needs saving. Mikasa needs to stay away from this life, as adamantly as she can.
How couldn't he see it! He's no stranger to the vileness of criminals, and neither is she. They spent their first moments together fighting against that threat, before even the titans broke into their lives. She may be blinded by concern for her and Eren's safety, but there has to be another way.
He has to get Mikasa out of this, while he still can.
And before he can respond, Ingrid is pacing away.
Eren chews on his slice of bread, massaging the headache that had formed through the events of the past few days. He has trouble deciding which part plays a bigger role in the current throbbing of his own skull, whether it's his fears about her own well being or his words, those damned words.
He doesn't know what to do about them. They aren't real, they didn't happen... he keeps telling himself that. But it's true, after all. Yet, no matter how true it may be, Eren's heart twists in elemental guilt.
Every glance he steals at Mikasa is like flipping a coin. Either he's instilled with frustration at her insistence on dooming herself to a life of crime just so they can thrive down in this hell, or he's inundated with guilt at what he never even did.
And she's noticed. Of course she's noticed. She pays attention to him all of the time, and notes every change in his demeanor. She's asked him if he's okay so many times that she knows which "okays" mean he's really okay and which ones mean he isn't. Sometimes he's suffocated by it, and other times he couldn't be happier that he has her around.
He's pretty sure she's noticed it now, too. The dichotomy of concern that threatens to tear his head into two, to the point that he can hardly focus on his bread, staring instead at the way her graceful yet bruised fingers delicately stab into the scarf, bringing along a red thread to repair the tiniest of cuts. He stifles a chuckle, remembering how she would repair her scarf all the time when they were trainees. It's all she ever did in her free time, if she wasn't exercising. "That's probably the only way that scarf's lasted so long. She won't even let it get dusty."
Free time... he's surprised they have much of it now. Despite only having to work favorable hours due to how useful he is in his job, he hasn't so much as tried to renegotiate his pay. Without Ingrid, he isn't sure how far his extremely limited diplomatic skills could get him. Plus, she's not been very available the past few days, completely due to the argument they had.
He doesn't like apologizing, but for someone who was so clearly trying to help him, he tried to remedy things with his new friend. Unfortunately, she's just as bad as him, so set in her ways that she isn't interested in talking to him until he's taken her advice.
If there was one thing she was out of line on, though, it was Mikasa. Eren understands Ingrid's opinions, but he could not possibly agree, not when he sees Mikasa return home every night to hug him, to talk about her struggles and doubts in what she does, but reaffirm how much she wants to keep Eren safe. As much as he hates how stubborn she is, the memories of her panic attacks reveal a story that he is, at this point, intimately familiar with, hugging her through her cries.
Eren is sure he learned at least one thing during his time living with Mikasa. It's one he isn't sure he's discovered from his time here or it's something he knew back when they lived together in Shiganshina and he simply forgot. But the fact is, Mikasa loves hugs. He expected her to primarily appreciate verbal forms of affection and kindness more (it's not like he was good at showing either regardless), seeing as that's her primary way of showcasing it to Eren, but he's discovered that if you wrap her up in any kind of hug or hold she'll melt. He's put it to good use... and in a way, it's been his form of telling her how he truly feels. An antithesis to his nightmare; how could he hate her if he hugs her so often? Maybe if he hugs her enough, makes her smile enough, he'll forget he ever dreamed anything at all.
But he can't say he's in that mood now. Not with his headache, and not with Ingrid's thoughts pestering his exhausted mind.
"Are you sure we can afford that?" his thoughts slip out before he can realize it. Mikasa looks up at him from the other side of the table, a confused look on her face.
"Huh?"
"'Huh'" even her light gasps of questioning make him feel bad.
"The knitting supplies..."
"Oh. Yes, Eren, we can afford that. We don't have to worry about money anymore."
He frowns. Maybe that's the case, but he'd rather be worrying about money if it meant she was safe. "But should we be spending our money on stuff like that?"
"It's not a big deal."
"It might be... maybe we should save up some money so we can get out of here, at least."
Her eyes shift to something indecipherable. "We'll worry about that later."
"Why? Why not now? Wouldn't it only be getting harder for us to return to the military?" The military. The memories it brings feel like wistful times of a long lost era, even though it's not even been a month since Trost.
"I don't see why it would be any easier now, given our situation."
"I can see how it could be easier if we have more money-"
"Eren." She cuts him off with an authoritative tone. "I... wanted to buy this."
He takes a look at the knitting supplies in her hands, and with a rhythmic throb of his head he understands why it, more specifically the scarf, is so important. After a bout of silence, he sighs. "We're arguing just like Mr. and Mrs. Ottrick. Sorry."
The Ottrick's were an old married couple Eren and Mikasa knew back in Shiganshina. They bickered and fought over the most trivial things, but did it with such vigor that he always wondered how they didn't hate each other. Mikasa blushes, looking back down at her scarf as she resumes her knitting. Eren doesn't have half a mind to wonder what he said to embarrass her, too lost in nostalgia.
Mr. Ottrick was a nice man. He loved animals, owning two dogs, a cat, and even some birds, though the winged creatures always escaped him eventually. Mrs. Ottrick, too, was a wonderful lady. She didn't do much other than go on the occasional walk around town, but Eren could usually find her with Mr. Ottrick, and she was usually the one to make conversation and humor Eren's vivid imagination.
He remembers how they died, too. When he was running to his own mother's house, he saw Mr. Ottrick lying, legs crushed into a puddle of blood by falling debris. Mrs. Ottrick kneeled by his side, holding his hand with tears in her eyes. He could faintly hear the old man telling her to "go, please escape."
Mrs. Ottrick shook her head. She would not go. And she was eaten. He hopes Mr. Ottrick didn't have to watch. Not the way he watched his mother.
He returns his gaze to Mikasa, watching her sew absentmindedly, and he can't stop the most horrible of thoughts from slithering into his mind. "If I was trapped, would she leave me?"
Eren is surprised at how incredibly terrified he is of the possibility that she wouldn't. That he would have to watch her be eaten like his mother. That he would have to watch her be hurt in any way, shape, or form.
"You have to leave your gang." His voice is resolute.
"What?" she lifts her head to meet him again.
"You have to stop."
She furrows her brows. "Eren... what's wrong? Where did this come from?"
He thinks about Ingrid's words, about that night in the kidnappers' cabin. "I don't trust them, Mikasa. And I'm tired of seeing you get hurt."
Mikasa sighs. "It was just because of a skirmish." She's referring to her hands. "Those don't happen everyday."
"I don't care. It's too risky. I'd rather be broke."
"Eren..."
"I'm serious! We can make money some other way. You can use your strength some other way. You don't have to risk yourself like this!" his desperate anger claws out of his throat.
"I can handle myself," she declares, her own annoyance flaring up.
Eren can only shake his head, having heard that statement of hers hundreds of times before. He gets up out of his chair, walking over to Mikasa to kneel by her, grabbing her hands. The gesture makes her eyes go wide, but she does nothing to stop it.
"That's exactly what I told you two years ago, while we were in the mountains," he explains, surprised by his own calmness. Her own eyes shine with remembrance.
"And you said," he continues to explain, "it doesn't matter whether you can handle yourself. You probably can. But I'm not going to take that risk." A part of him is surprised he remembers it word for word, but why shouldn't he? That night was one of the most important nights of his life. It completely changed how he viewed his relationship with Mikasa.
It doesn't matter if he thought that her words were a bullshit excuse at the time (and still partly does), it's bound to work on her. And he knows it has when all Mikasa can do is frown and whine. "Eren..."
"Please... I... I don't want you to get hurt. It's not worth it. We're not even back in the military yet." He's utterly shocked at how reasonable and calm he's being. But he realizes that it's only with Mikasa, only with her, that he's capable of assuaging his unwieldy temper.
And he knows why, thinking back to his dream where he crushed her soul into tiny little pieces so effortlessly, with four simple words. It's because she doesn't deserve his indignance.
"I'll think about it..." she resigns, and Eren knows that only he is likely to be capable of moving Mikasa on such a subject. Not that he really understands why...
At least for now, one side of his headache has a hope of subsiding.
"Thank you."
Mikasa brings the wet plate to her hands, scrubbing the dirt and pieces of food that have accumulated over the past week. Just like with washing clothes, they don't have enough dishes to last them more than a week, and thus chores like this become necessary. She's not one to complain, though, especially with a task such as this. She has more memories of cleaning the dishes with Aunt Carla than she can count, all of them wrapped in a hazy, nostalgic bow. She doesn't really remember anything specific, and she's long since reconciled the fact that she won't be able to remember every good memory she had at the Jaeger household, but the image she has in her mind is one that will stay in her heart for as long as she lives. The two scrubbing plates and bowls, Carla inundating Mikasa with words of gratitude and compliments about her hair, or her dress, or her eyes, and the inevitable teasing that followed. "You look very pretty today. Eren will be impressed, even if he doesn't show it," she remembers her saying, and her face had turned to a vibrant red in a matter of seconds.
She never told Carla or Grisha about her feelings for Eren. Armin had been the only one to outright guess, and even then Mikasa didn't have the courage to confirm it, only blushing furiously and giving him the silent treatment. But she knew how bright Armin was, and she supposes that later in her life, in her previous timeline, her love for Eren was just an unspoken fact between her and the blond. Armin accepted it, never pushing her to confirm it or do anything about it, and Mikasa silently appreciated it. She was silent because she knew Armin would pick up on it anyway. Armin was understanding like that. She really misses him.
And she's more than certain that the boy to her left does too. "Maybe that's why he looks so out of it," she ponders, handing him the plate she finished cleaning. He takes it with a light hum, putting it on the drying rack and continuing to clean his own plate. His eyebrows are furrowed, and though at first glance it looks like he's focused intently on his task, Mikasa's known him long enough to know that his eyes tell a different story. He's not focused on the dishes at all, thinking about something else.
Mikasa feels a tug within herself to ask what's on his mind, just to make sure he's okay. Ever since he's been getting his memories back, Mikasa knows it's paramount that she keeps tabs of what he's been learning. If he remembers something she would rather him not know, then there's nothing she can do about it. But the least she can do in that scenario is try to twist it so he doesn't go off on his own. He can't leave her...
She sighs, recognizing how repulsive her last thoughts are. It isn't the right mindset to have, because it's the exact same one she had in the last timeline, and that got her nowhere.
So should she ask him? He may still be upset with her. After all, what's not to be upset about? She dragged him down here, and now she's endangering her own life so that they can stay. If their roles were flipped, she'd certainly be upset with him for being so willing to put himself in harm's way.
"You're strong, so it's different."
"That doesn't matter to him."
She can't help but argue with herself. But she begins to accept that if she does want to ask him, she ought to at least wait for a better time. He doesn't look happy right now. The frown on his face affirms that. What surprises her, however, is that his eyebrows suddenly lift from their scrunched position, his face falling in defeat. Clearly, something changed as he thought to himself, and she's forced to repeat to herself to stay her curiosity, stay her concern for him.
"I shouldn't ask him. I'd just be overwhelming him, and... he hated that." He hated it. The word slithers down her spine, its venom courses through all of her muscles, sapping all of her strength, regardless of any Ackerman power. She desperately tries to shut out the memories of the day he told her; she's gotten pretty good at it.
But before she can, Eren opens his mouth.
"I don't hate you."
…
…
Mikasa stops scrubbing her bowl.
"...What?"
And her heart stops. Her body freezes in place. She stares at the bowl with eyes wide as saucers as the seconds tick and not another word is said. Her soul lights aflame, processing each syllable of what he just said. Did he just say that? Or was it a figment of her desperate imagination?
Eren... doesn't... Eren doesn't...
"W...W-What?" she asks, her voice softer than the tenderness of her heart at this very moment. She looks at his face, his brows painted with seriousness, and she realizes that it's real. And suddenly, all of the years of shielding herself from all of that elemental pain are torn down in an instant, and she's genuinely afraid of what Eren might inflict upon her. "B-But... you hate me..." the words creak and wither and die before reaching her tongue, and she can only stare at him with wide eyes, face contorted in a desperate fear and shock.
He looks at her, seemingly confused by her reaction. "I'm sorry... I just... I wanted you to know. I don't hate you."
Why? Why does he want her to know? Why bring this up now? Is it true? He doesn't have any memories of the past timeline, not really, so...
Did he remember something from a dream?
"E-Eren..."
Her thoughts blaze, they twirl around her broken psyche like an inferno, the waves of heat bending and forming it into something she can't fathom.
"I know it's weird for me to say that... I don't know why I'm bothering to explain something so obvious. But... Mikasa, I don't hate you," he repeats again. His voice is emphatic, nearly desperate sounding, to tell her the truth of his thoughts and his feelings, and at the sound her soul erupts into a feeling she cannot describe. The words fall from Eren Jaeger's lips, for a reason only Eren Jaeger knows, and Mikasa can only stand and watch as she feels her body crumble.
No. She doesn't believe what she's hearing. This is a dream. These are like the dreams she has when Eren's kissing her, or protecting her, or promising that he never wants to leave her side. Dreams she knows are too beautiful, too extraordinary to ever happen to Mikasa. But the cool Underground air nips at her arms, little droplets of water fall from her hands.. She's awake.
"Eren..." is all she can say, eyes glistening with passion and utter shock, it's all she's ever been able to say, and she looks back down, unable to keep her gaze on the eyes that look so alive. Eren Jaeger is alive, and telling her that he doesn't hate her. Is it true? Is Eren being honest? The Eren from her past timeline said he always hated her. Always. But right now... he's saying that he doesn't?!
Is this Eren? Is this what he thinks? Why would he ever change? Can't he see how her heart lifts to hear those words? Can't he tell how tears of desolate misery don't fall from her eyes? Even if she doesn't know it to be true, her spirit soars, and her heart, since four years of agonizing sorrow, four years of fighting for him, loving him, despite how much he hated her, rises back to it's proper place. Eren. Her Eren. He doesn't hate her...
"Mikasa...?" he asks in a whisper, clearly frightened by her extreme reaction. Her lip quivers as she starts to tremble, but she knows it's not a panic attack. She's just never been this happy before. Her entire being resonates with love, and she caresses the fabric of her scarf, looking at Eren with shining eyes.
"He doesn't hate me... he doesn't hate me..." the words echo through her heart, making her want to burrow into his shoulder and cry again, cry and yell and ask why he would ever say he did, let him keep her safe and warm and at home again. The home she always could return to... doesn't hate her... she's speechless.
It's as if a hot iron was finally lifted from her, an impassable barrier that could have only been lifted by the boy she loves more than anything in this world. Of course... it's so obvious... he never hated her, he just said those things. She doesn't know why, but it is so clear to her in retrospect. His eyes were dead inside, he allowed Armin to punch him, he was suffering.
"Why was he like that? Why didn't I help him?!" and the guilt thrashes her weak, shattered soul. If only she had asked him if he was okay more, shown him how much she...
And she realizes. She has to tell him. She has to let him know what he means to her.
As she clutches her scarf, the one he wrapped around her neck, the one that gave her warmth and reminded her of the home that she could only find in him, she steels herself. This is for Eren. This is for the boy who showed her the sheer beauty in this cruel, cruel world. He gave everything to Mikasa, he gave her a chance to keep living, to keep loving, the only reason she wants to stay alive.
"I love you..."
The words wisp away from her breath, taking her voice with it. She is mute. Mikasa Ackerman has nothing more to say. She just loves Eren Jaeger, and she told him as much.
Eren blinks. After a few painful seconds of cold silence, the words seem to fully enter into his mind, and his eyes widen. The passionate, emerald greens that brought her so much comfort, whether they were shining with concern or burning with rage, grow wider and wider, the shy hints of a response coming out of his mouth in stutters.
And just as the revelation of what she said passes through him, it does the same to Mikasa. She just told him she loved him. Instead of that fateful night in Marley, where he asked so plainly what he was to her, she reveals it now. In their cramped room in the Underground, while they clean dishes.
Then her heartbeat starts to race, and a painful blush paints her cheeks. "You just told him you loved him!"
"I'm sorry," is all she can mutter next, surprise at her own bravery in telling him tainting her voice, making it come out in a squeak. She looks down again, hand still securely clutching her scarf as she unconsciously pulls it to her chin. Her stomach clenches and plummets with anxiety, "You shouldn't have told him that. Now he knows, and he'll never forget. He knows you love him, he knows it."
"No!... no... it's okay... I- uh, I just... I just didn't know," Eren barely lets out, his words undoubtedly mitigated by the cogs that turn in his mind. And as the silence continues, she processes his words. She told him, but now she has no choice but to... elaborate. Mikasa tightens her chest, bringing her hand down from her scarf and using all her might to pry open the heart that's so resiliently cocooned itself.
"It's... I, uh... I wanted to tell you... I've loved you for a long time." The words fall out, much to her bewilderment. She cannot even properly comprehend the significance of her own words, but perhaps that's to her benefit.
"...You have?" Eren shoots her a look of utter surprise, a look which she can't meet with her own eyes.
"Umm. Uh..." the words escape her mind, and she has absolutely no idea what to say. Looking back at him, though, despite everything, brings a soothing layer of warmth to her heart, enough to be completely honest with him, for once. "Eren I... I'm sorry, I'm not good with words." She's stating the obvious, but it makes the situation feel more real... somehow.
"It's... it's okay, Mikasa." His voice calms her further, not that she has any idea how or why, and she feels her heart finally open. The blush diminishes, replaced by teary eyes, and she finds herself wanting nothing more than to tell him everything.
"It's just that... ever... ever since you wrapped this scarf around me..." the tears begin to fall from her vulnerable eyes, her breath hitches, "I think I've been in love with you. I don't know what will happen... a-and I just wanted you to know. That's why I've always treated you like someone who needed protection, even when you didn't... b-because I love you so much and I don't like to see you hurt or in danger or-or..." she begins to sob, both hands now holding onto the scarf as she trembles from the cold. She's never been more exposed to him before... to anyone. The cold rushes through her bare soul as the words release the chains she's kept on her heart for so long. "I just want to be by your side because I love you, Eren. I love you. I love you. I love you." She keeps repeating those three words, because it feels so liberating to say it. It feels like she could do anything in the world, free of the guilt she holds because she loves him so much and he knows it. Yet, she feels horrible, because there's so much she can't tell him, so much that she knows an "I love you" cannot fix. That will not change his rage if he discovers he's a titan shifter, if he discovers that Mikasa knows so much, including the existence of the outside world. She may love him, and that may be why she isn't telling him, but Eren won't see it that way.
"Mikasa..." is all Eren can manage. He's truly speechless.
"Y-You don't have to change. Please, don't change, Eren," her words are thick with desperation, because ultimately, the only thing she can do is cry, and beg for him not to become the monster he's doomed to be. "It's okay if you don't feel the same... I-I," she can no longer resist, grabbing both of his hands, which he doesn't fight in the slightest. "all I want is to stay by your side... just don't leave me... please..." and when she blinks, she sees him, the Eren with long, disheveled hair, the one that did nothing but stare back at her in Marley as she reminded him of the horrible atrocities he'd committed against innocent human beings. She blinks again, and sees the one that looked at her with cold, sharp eyes as she told her he hated her.
And finally, she sees the face of Eren Jaeger, moments before she brought her blade to his throat.
She wants all of them to know how much she loves him.
She loves him.
She begins to truly break down, hot tears cascading onto Eren's hands, and it's finally enough to shock Eren out of his understandable stupor. His breath hitches, and he moves her into the warmest hug he can manage. She immediately reciprocates, letting out high whimpers of desperation, vulnerability, and affection as she realizes this is the first hug she's received from an Eren who doesn't hate her, an Eren who knows exactly how much he means to her.
"I wanted to tell you for so long..." she whines, "but I was too scared... but-but I don't want you to leave me. I'm sorry but I just had to tell you."
"I..." is all he can manage, but that's okay. She doesn't need him to talk, she just wants to pour her mangled heart out to him, and hug him with all the might of Mikasa Ackerman.
"I love you... I love you... I love you... I love you..." she repeats in whispers, and each time she feels his chest shake with the revelation. It must be a lot for him to learn, seeing how he never had so much as a clue that she had feelings for him. But she meant it when she told him that he doesn't have to change. He doesn't have to love her back in the same way, that's not what she wants. The only thing she needs is for him to let her stay. That's all she's ever wanted since the day her parents were murdered and her home was stolen. She can't live without her home.
Mikasa feels his warm hand press against the back of her head, and she's more than willing to sink further into his skin. She loves Eren Jaeger.
To say that Eren was stupefied in that moment would be an abominable understatement. An incomprehensible wave of... feeling... had gripped his chest the moment he heard those words, and as he sits at his bed, the day waning at an agonizingly slow pace after her confession, he couldn't confidently say that his chest feels any lighter. He sighs, shifting his legs as he rests his back on the headboard. Mikasa is in the bathroom, and though he was anxious to relieve this sense of suffocation with some solitude, he wonders if being left alone with his thoughts was really the blessing he hoped it would be.
He's such a goddamn idiot. It was obvious, right? Only a fool... only Eren could miss something as clear as the infinite blue sky.
That's what he has settled on, at the moment. The past few hours had been a thunderstorm of confusion, a flood of realization, and an avalanche of dread. So, he'd be lying if he said he knew exactly how to feel as soon as he heard those three words. For a significant amount of time, perhaps too long for his own comfort, he didn't have any feelings at all. Other than shock, he supposes. And it was indeed a shock. Though he feels idiotic now, Eren has to be fair to himself and admit that it truly came out of nowhere. Right?
Mikasa loves him.
And she kept repeating it... why did she have to keep repeating it? Maybe... maybe if she said it only once, or even just twice... or three times, Eren could have just thought he misheard it and moved on. "What are you thinking...?" he catches his own thoughts. Does he really think he could ignore it if such a monumental confession was spoken even once? Let alone from Mikasa?
In the moment, however, all he could do was hug her. She was crying for god's sake, what else was he supposed to do? Talk with her? He was never good with words, and he can hardly fathom the catastrophe that letting his mouth run amuck, while he was still taking in the revelation no less, would bring.
He places a hand on his head, sorely missing the days when he could worry about nothing but escaping this shithole with Mikasa in tow. Maybe they'd meet with Armin, negotiate their survival, something. Now it rests in the back of his mind, relegated to a minor concern, and he hates it.
After their hug was when the air set in. He was suddenly reminded of how thick it was in the Underground, how it threatened to choke him, and how he had no idea what to do with the information he had been presented with. He was just shocked. He supposes that Mikasa made it easier in that respect, quickly telling him that they should finish what they were doing (not that he remembers), and generally avoiding eye contact.
He always hated when she went cold on him, but in this instance he couldn't possibly be upset. She said everything she needed to, and any continuation of the conversation would be Eren's responsibility. Despite Mikasa's best efforts, there was no going back to normal so soon, and they both knew that.
"I love you, Eren."
And in an instant the surge of emotion returns. He silently draws his knees to his chest, wrapping himself up in a ball as he focuses intently on the chipped wood at the other edge of his bed.
Like... love? Love love? The love his mom had for his dad? That love? He doesn't know if he's even equipped to understand the sentiment. He doesn't think he's ever felt the way he's always thought love to be. How would he know even if he did? All he knows is what he observed from his parents, and he was never ecstatic about the concept to begin with. As a kid, all he associated it with was complacency. His parents were married, his neighbors were married, the young Garrison soldiers that were stationed at Shiganshina wouldn't shut the hell up about their gorgeous boyfriends and girlfriends that they were sure to marry in the future. And, one day, as his mother always told him, he would find someone to love and marry as well, so he could spend the rest of his pointless life with her.
Perhaps that was part of the reason he preferred his dad when it came to these things. He never said much about Eren's future romantic endeavors. Not unless his mom made him.
Nostalgia billows up from his weary soul, the memories of a simpler life, which seemed to step further away with every blink of his eyes, shining like the north star. There it rests, in the world of freedom, in the sky, only visible in the black shades of the night. As black, perhaps, as Mikasa's soft hair.
Wasn't she his home? She's all that remains of what he so stupidly took for granted when he was a child. Her and Armin, he supposes. But Mikasa and Armin are very different. The most substantial difference, he now realizes, is that Mikasa loves him.
His ears burn, along with his cheeks, and his neck, and every other part of his body that's capable of manifesting his feelings in the form of red-tinged skin. His heart beat rises, as if he were experiencing her confession all over again.
Confession? Is that what you'd call it? The way his comrades would "confess" to their crushes after mustering up the confidence? Like how Reiner always talked about "confessing" to Krista? He only ever heard it from their side, he only ever knew what it looked like to have the crush. What does he do when he's the recipient? Doesn't that make him the Krista of this situation? Mikasa had a crush on him, and chose now to confess?
His heart twists in an unpleasant concoction of inadequacy and confusion. So... Mikasa only had a crush on him? Was she being overdramatic when she said love, like the cadets in his class would be? It's not exactly Mikasa's style... but all bets are off when she's actually being genuine with him. But why does that make his heart sink further?
He's stuck. He doesn't know whether to accept or reject the notion of Mikasa simply being attracted to him on a surface level. In the case that it's true, how does he feel about that? It should be a good thing, right? It makes things easier to remedy, and they can go back to normal quicker...
Curiously, he can't help but let out a petulant huff at the idea. Is that all he is to her? Is he just some pretty boy, the object of her teenage lust? Is Mikasa just as susceptible to the quality Eren found so loathsome among his comrades when they were younger? While Jean, Connie, Reiner, and the rest talked about girls they would love nothing more than to marry, Eren would lay in his bed, fuming about their misplaced priorities. "Marriage for a soldier?," he always gawked, "like that could be possible while there's still titans around..."
And sometimes, when he felt particularly isolated in his beliefs, he would wonder if Mikasa was in the same position, sitting at her bed and trying her best to ignore the girls obsessing about boys they liked.
But was she any different?
"Of course she was, she's Mikasa," he corrects himself.
"Then what was that confession about?"
"What does it matter? How she feels doesn't change anything."
"But..."
But what? Why does it matter how she feels? Why does the idea that Mikasa only has a crush on Eren bother him so much?
He feels like Armin... the way he would always overthink himself into inaction. Growing up with the blond, it was one thing Eren was able to pride himself on. He could be decisive where Armin was contemplative, but now he feels paralyzed. This is not simple. This is not humanity against the titans, freedom against subjugation. This is Eren and Mikasa.
When he hears the bathroom door creak open, it feels as if his heart is ripped into two. One half falls in dread, and the other rises in... well, he couldn't describe the feeling if he tried. He can't describe anything anymore.
There she stands, red scarf wrapped around her neck as she pushes it closer to her chin, fighting off the nonexistent chill in the air. She doesn't move, and Eren cannot conjure a single word, he can only look at her. Her soft eyes are on the ground, probably waiting for Eren to speak, as she had done since she confessed... and he's afraid he'll have to disappoint her once again.
"I love you, Eren."
Would she have really said that if it was just a crush? Mikasa Ackerman?
But what does that make it? How does he begin to comprehend her love for him? How could he possibly respond?
"Your hair's still wet." He says the first thing that comes tumbling into his weary brain. He really likes her hair, but when it's wet it makes her look cold.
"Sorry..." her voice is a soft whisper. Nobody's voice is as soft as Mikasa's.
"Huh..?" he cocks his head, simultaneously feeling completely alien and just as natural as he's always been when he talks to her. "Sorry for what?"
She doesn't answer, only furrowing her brows and continuing to stare at the floor. "It's late... should we go to bed?"
Eren feels his eyebrows lift up, caught off guard by the question. "We should go to bed," is what he grew accustomed to hearing. "Are you really worried about how she says the same damn thing she always says, Eren?"
But it is significant, he realizes. Gone is the Mikasa that had the confidence to make any assertions, at least for now. The girl standing before him is as clueless as he is, and it isn't likely to be the case that either are particularly enjoying it. Another realization hits him, however, and it's that this may be her way of asking if she can share the same bed with him.
He looks down in shame, surprised that she even feels the need to ask such a thing. But he understands. This is new ground for both of them, and it wouldn't kill him to spare a thought for Mikasa throughout this whole debacle. How could she possibly feel? She must be terrified of what he thinks of her now. She must be just as confused as he is. Or maybe things have never been clearer to her. Why shouldn't she feel relieved that she finally told him? Is that what all those moments were for? The moments when she looked as if she was on the precipice of telling him something her heart ached to release? He was so frustrated when she acted like that... but what if it was just to say "Eren... I love you..."? His heart shrivels in pity, in self loathing. Is this how she felt? The girl who's cried and shivered in his arms countless times, the girl who would follow him into hell without a moment's hesitation?
...Is that what love looks like?
He cannot return his gaze to her, and it takes all of his might to keep his voice from shaking as he speaks. "Yeah..." He scoots to his right to allow her plenty of room, and with near silent footsteps, she approaches the bed, tentatively laying on the soft mattress.
They sleep in the same bed every night. Eren never thought a damn thing about it. Him and Mikasa were close, close enough to be family, and yet he never liked to consider her a sister. Didn't he see the paradox? The conundrum that they resolved to do nothing about? They became family after the night they met, and yet knew from the bottom of their hearts that they weren't family. They spent years delivering comfort to each other beyond what anyone else in their lives could bring them, and Eren always accepted that it was because Mikasa was the only one who understood what it was like to lose a loved one. But that's not true... is it? Armin lost his grandfather, Reiner and Bertholdt lost everyone from their village. No... they sought comfort from each other because she was Mikasa, and he was Eren. It's as simple as that.
But why? Why does Mikasa hold a place in his heart wholly different from anyone he's ever known? She's more than a family member, she's both the closest and farthest to family anyone could ever be. And now he knows how Mikasa resolved that conundrum. She loved him. "It's just that... ever... ever since you wrapped this scarf around me... I think I've been in love with you."
Tears begin to swell in his eyes as the memory of that day flashes in his mind. Suddenly he sees the "I love you" laced into every action she ever took, every word she ever spoke to him. She followed him into that horrible shortcut on their mountain expedition because she loves him, she followed into the military, into the Survey Corps because she loves him, because she wanted to stay with him. She always tries so hard to keep him with her because she loves him. She stays by his bedside when he's sick because she loves him.
"You're a goddamn idiot Eren..."
"Eren..." her voice soothes his soul more than the peaceful sway of the wind, more than the tweets of the birds he envied so much as a child. Mikasa can see his tears, and it finally breaks him, a steady stream of realization and regret sailing down his cheeks. He does not dare look her in her beautiful eyes.
"Don't leave me..." her trembling voice echoes through the halls of his memory. She only ever cried for him, and he knows exactly why now. For the first time in his life, he completely understands how important he is to Mikasa.
And all it took was for her to have to spell it out for him. All it took was for him to remind her that he doesn't hate her. What a pathetic excuse for a tradeoff. In exchange for an affirmation of Eren's lack of outright hate for his best friend, she confesses her undying love. Is this how much he starves her of affection? Is this how little she realizes how much she means to him? And yet she still loves him?
...Why?
"I'm so sorry..." he chokes out, his voice barely that of a whisper.
Her face rises in concern and pity "You didn't do anything wrong... why are you apologizing? Why are you crying?"
His soul shakes for the briefest of moments, her last words eliciting a sense of painful deja vu. Her words, her voice, her face, her presence... some instances in time he can't even say he remembers experiencing... they sway around his mind. She's so important to him. Not that he's capable of putting it into words, the totality of everything she is, everything she will be... he just can't. Instead, as he feels his mind crumble from memories he doesn't even know are his, he lets her wrap her arms around him.
And he cries into her neck.
"You don't have to change... Please don't change for me..." Mikasa whispers through his choked sobs. He can only shake his head. He's not guilty for what he doesn't feel, he's guilty for what he does, and what he failed to show her.
"You'll always be my home," she lets out, as tiredness overtakes Eren's worn soul.
"I'll always love you."
So there it was. You guys probably realize why this one took so much emotion from me just to write haha. I know this is pretty much a constant, but especially with this chapter, I'm really eager to know what you guys thought! Did it feel like my writing was affected by my months of schooling? Was I able to portray all the significant moments? Anything I did great? Anything I did poorly? Be sure to let me know!
Also, as far as the future of my writing schedule goes, to say it will be turbulent would be an understatement. Ideally, I would set the schedule to a chapter every other week, but I'm almost sure that that won't be attainable every time. What I really hope I can guarantee, however, is that you WON'T have to wait another two months for the next chapter. I'm sorry to say that's all I can promise for now. I'm on this journey with you guys, so we'll just have to see how consistent I can be in the future. -Y