Disclaimer : I do not own Shingeki no Kyojin / Attack on Titan nor its characters.


"Good to know my niece still has some instincts." was the first thing Kenny said as he entered her room through the window he pushed open. And when Mikasa finally made eye contact with him, she felt fear stirring within. Why is he here? Did Levi… tell him already? Mikasa didn't know what to think as Kenny walked towards the raven who now stood as straight as how a soldier would, his foot mercilessly crushing the twig that had been tossed aside. How did he even manage to infiltrate the Castle without anyone noticing?

"I hope 'yer not getting too carried away with this royal life…" He commented before taking a glance around the room, and sneered at the opulence it screamed. Meanwhile, Mikasa wondered just how much he had overheard her and Eren's conversation. "And I hope 'yer not falling for that Prince." He joked ever so crudely.


Mikasa was taken aback by his remark, flinching as a look of disbelief and shock started to settle in. Falling for the Prince? Whether that was Kenny's horrid sense of humour in its works or not, it still unsettled Mikasa.

She knew what he would have done to her had that joke been a fact instead. Falling for the Ackermans' most despised enemy? What a treacherous thing to do. Befriending was one thing already, but falling in lov—

No. What am I thinking? Mikasa grimaced. I'm not… befriending him. It's all a façade.

Falling in love, much less befriending any members of the royal bloodline would be too cruel, if one was an Ackerman.

"Relax, brat. 'Yer shoulders are all tensed." Kenny noted, giving a few pats on her back, which unfortunately only made Mikasa stiffen even more.

Mikasa's fear for any false suspicions Kenny might've formed on her after she had apparently appeared tense after his joke soon started to dissolve when he took a step back, and then a few more away from her as he began a closer inspection of the room. He seems to be in a good mood, was what Mikasa believed. Any other time that she'd catch him on a bad day, he wouldn't have so easily brush off that alarming reaction to his comment. Not that it was true, of course. Mikasa was not falling for the Prince, not at all, they had only just met… not to mention the 'tiny' fact that they were each other's biggest enemies.

Or maybe Kenny just knew she was startled by his unplanned visit. Perhaps she was overthinking about her Uncle's intuition.

"Progress?" Kenny queried, taking a turn back towards Mikasa; his expression revealing his contempt for the room for whatever reason unknown to her.

"…We're… getting closer, I believe. The Prince and myself." Mikasa reported, her back straightening albeit her eyes remained glued to the ground. "Levi… hasn't found anything relating to the lab you were talking about. The map you had given us appears to be outdated." She added, recalling Levi had mentioned something about the map being awfully shitty.

Kenny shrugged, "Map or no map, that bloody lab is hidden." He spat with much derision before continuing, "Whatever, there's still time for y'all brats to locate the lab… just make sure you don't lose your shit over the bloody red walls in one of their sewing rooms." Kenny clicked his tongue in agitation, though it was more directed towards the aforementioned sewing room rather than to Mikasa. Evidently, he resented the castle and the luxury adorned in all of it.

Deciding to ignore his statement hinting at her uncontrollable bloodlust (and choosing to omit any information regarding how she nearly lost control back during the spar with Annie), she gave a weak nod. "Understood."

"Oi, oi, oi." Kenny said, arms crossed as he loomed over her once he was close enough, with a snarl he spoke, "Got something on my face? Is that why yer' avoiding my eye? Or did yer' forgot how to show respect after becoming a Princess?"

Mikasa's head snapped up, instinctively she took a step back in perpetual fright when she saw the exasperation in his eyes, but regardless she couldn't escape his shadow that casted over her. Swallowing her terror, she nodded apologetically. "I'm sorry… Understood." She repeated.

"Tch," Kenny clicked his tongue, unamused as he backed off, allowing room for Mikasa to breathe. "Looks like that big ol' brother can't always save you, huh?"

Mikasa stiffened, Kenny scoffed as his shoulders reeled back and shrugged. "Can't completely blame you, I've always been harder on you, even if that other brat acted out more." He paused, watching as Mikasa's eyes remained focused on him, though they appear to reveal some hesitance on whether she was even allowed to reply on his statement. "I've been hard on both of ya, especially after yer' massacre," He reminded, and this time Mikasa's eyes went back down—she felt like there was a force pushing them down to face the ground; how could she face him after those words that evoked nothing but trauma? She couldn't face anyone for that matter. A reminder like that, vivid or not, just made her want to coil herself in a corner; retreat into darkness to pathetically seek some sort of salvation, some sort of cure. But she couldn't. Because she was an Ackerman, she couldn't.

This was her reality.

Kenny having decided to let her cowardice slide this time, continued, "Yelled at 'yer, beaten 'yer up. Cruel. But that's exactly how the world is for an Ackerman. That was the only way I believed I could kill any crazy thoughts of y'all about leaving the underground for good. With this bloody curse, we can only be criminals. And only pain and fear can quickly teach 'yer that, and control. Though, Kuchel would've probably killed me for it, she hated violence more than anyone." He paused, taking out a packet of cigarettes from his pocket. "I was never meant to be a parent."

A few deep breathes to suppress the memory full of slaughter from the past, Mikasa managed to cast a glimpse at her Uncle who lit up a cigarette before placing it in between his lips, allowing himself to indulge in the horrid addictive toxic fumes. It was strange. This was strange. The sudden shift in conversation, that was. Why was Kenny even telling her this? Was this his way of apologising?

Mikasa didn't know what to make of it. Apology or not, it was too late. Apology or not, her curse would still continue. Accepting it or not would do nothing—She was sure Kenny knew that much. Yet why did it sound like a pathetic attempt at an apology? Why would he even apologise? Never in her years of living with Kenny did he even attempt to address an actual apology. Not even after he had beaten her up because she nearly spiralled out of control, because she couldn't control; not after when he made known his regrets of not killing her when he first saw her. What was he expecting? For them to suddenly become one big happy family? That idea was exceedingly absurd. Or was she over-thinking, again?

"I don't expect anything from both of yer' brats." Along with those words came out a puff of smoke, polluting the fresh air Mikasa had been so fond of; and she took it as another reminder that no matter what, she couldn't escape what awaited her back in the underground once this mission was done and over with. The dirtied air, or lack thereof. The suffocation. The barren, cracked ground. The crooks and everything else hellish. They all awaited their return back home. "Don't expect shit from me either." Kenny finished.

Slowly, Mikasa lifted her gaze back up when her nerves settled. Whatever he meant by those words, it didn't matter. She had never expected anything good—freedom, specifically—from him or anyone at all, with her Ackerman lineage any hopes of pure freedom never ceased to be incessantly crushed. As long as she lived the life of an Ackerman, freedom always seemed so out of reach.

She let the silence between them weigh heavier the longer it lasted, wondering if he had anything else to add. It wasn't until when the smoke started to fill her lungs at an intolerable rate, did she dare break it; wanting him to quickly leave. "…Is that all?" She managed to ask, ensuring she was loud enough despite her current meekness adopted in his presence.

"Hm… would've preferred if that other brat were around so I don't needa repeat the same thing twice. But I don't have 'er time to go on a bloody goose chase." He scoffed, head turning slightly to face out the window, where he released his next puff of smoke. "That's all… unless yer' got something to ask." He paused momentarily as he tapped on his cigarette, letting the burnt bits and ashes fall outside. "Better now."—it almost sounded like a warning, Mikasa noted. It wasn't often Kenny was in this sort of good mood to answer questions. More often than not, he hated answering questions that asked too much of and from him. Ironically. Though whether he would present Mikasa with nothing less of the complete truth was another separate matter on its own.

"… The customer," Mikasa finally responded, albeit tentatively. She watched Kenny closely, and seeing that he was unperturbed by the mention of this mysterious customer who wanted access to the Royal Family's lab, she decided to press on a little further, "Who…are they? And why do they want to—"

"Yer' will meet that old hag soon enough." Kenny cut her off short. He eyed her closely, as if contemplating something; something that Mikasa knew herself that she'd never be able to decipher. "She's an ally." He stated vaguely, and Mikasa's gut told her that he wouldn't continue from there. At the very least she knew the customer's gender, but that didn't explain much why Kenny accepted this bizarre offer of interfering with the Royal's affairs, did it?

But again, Mikasa knew it wasn't her position to question him that much, much less challenge him.

What happens after this customer gets what she wants? —Mikasa wanted to ask, but realised quickly that it was a foolish question. Because it didn't matter what would happen after. She and Levi would return to the underground and resume their lives there.

There was one other question that did draw Mikasa's curiosity—was Kenny the one responsible for the murder of Eren's parents?

"I know 'yer can be scared shitless of me more than the other brat, but speak up." Kenny interrupted Mikasa's thoughts, upon noticing her hesitation when it came to asking the next question. Regardless, Mikasa couldn't decide if it was something appropriate to ask.

Then again, the question of appropriateness seemed a little ridiculous for murderers— sinners to ask, wasn't it?

Besides, whether he did or not it didn't matter, because the fact remained that an Ackerman—someone of her bloodline had murdered the late King and Queen, at least according to Eren. She was merely curious, and she had her suspicions. Because in the first place, Kenny appeared… strangely familiar with the entire geography of this castle. Map or not.

And that only brought up more questions.

However, by the time she came to a decision, Kenny had interrupted before her lips could even part. Evidently, he was impatient at her indecisiveness. "When did yer' last kill someone?" He asked.

Mikasa's eyes widened, a little caught off guard by the unrelated question. Then again, this entire conversation she had with Kenny thus far practically threw her off.

"… Around two or three weeks." She answered nonetheless.

"Hm…" Kenny murmured something unfortunately inaudible to Mikasa, before he put out the cigarette's flame, pressing it and extinguishing the flame against the window's ledge. "That so?"

With one of his feet already on the window's ledge, eyes scanning below to check for any guards about, Mikasa knew it was too late to ask anymore questions. "See yer' soon." He nodded to her, before taking his leave back out, through the window.

Soon? Mikasa frowned, deciding to shake off as she reached out her hands for the window's handles, wanting to pull it back in and lock it. Though, she casted one fleeting glimpse at the direction she saw Kenny snuck off. And as expected, he was gone without a trace.


"We're almost there." Eren said in a rushed whisper; which had been enough to drag Mikasa back into the present, where the two lurked beneath the sky, that was engulfed with nothing but darkness. No moon, no stars. Ignoring the ominous signs, Eren was rather thankful for the dim atmosphere that allowed for them to camouflage in their hooded cloaks. Having memorised the route the guards were taking during this night's patrol, they had managed to avoid drawing any attention—though admittedly, there had been a few close calls.

The plan was to sneak into the victim's house, possibly search for any remaining clues left behind in the crime scene that hadn't been confiscated by the guards. Then, whether they'd find something useful or not, Eren planned to continue loitering around the area, in hopes of finding an Ackerman—killing them.

Anyone would have found Eren's plan outright outrageous, even Mikasa. She was sure that this wasn't the first time he had planned for such an event; of escaping the safety of his royal sanctuary to go on a hunt. Except, given the thrilled expression she witnessed when they managed to leave the castle without notice (mostly thanks to Mikasa's caution and stealth), she suspected this was the first—or at least one of the very rare instances—he got out successfully.

Looking back, perhaps they need not worry about the guards spotting them had Eren asked permission for this private investigation. She was sure that idea had probably crossed his mind at least once, before he rejected knowing that his advisors would eventually catch wind of his idea, and disapprove of it without a second thought because for one thing, this wasn't exactly what a Prince should do; breaking into houses to find some sort of hint or connection that an Ackerman had carelessly left behind, so he could be a step closer to purging the remaining of the clan. Not to mention, the idea of blatantly seeking an Ackerman from the shadows to only go against them would definitely be met with reprimands from the Council—having the Prince put himself in danger was the last thing they wanted. Thus, as a result, Eren had decided to take matters in his own hands.

Honestly, if he does somehow manage to successfully seek out an Ackerman… it'd be Kenny—Mikasa had thought then, when Eren explained to her why he wanted to do this on his own, without the aid of his advisors or guards. I wouldn't know what to do, if that were the case…

While she was aware of his hatred towards the Ackermans, she couldn't exactly fully comprehend the recklessness in his pursuit of her fallen clan. Did he really think he could face the Ackermans, when he couldn't beat Annie much less Mikasa, herself, who was the technically weakest Ackerman among the three remaining?

"Why are you always in a rush?" Mikasa had asked him when they had resumed their training, and Eren was still having a few gaps and errors of his own, despite having pointed out his flaw regarding his impatience. He had applied Mikasa's advice during the first few rounds, but when the failures continued with minimal improvements, his old habits came running back. "There's no rush." She added; it wasn't as if there was a deadline in his vengeance plan against the Ackermans, right? There was still time if he wanted to really kill them. It wasn't as if they were planning a revolt against the entire Paradis Kingdom, and it wasn't as if he had a bloodlust of his own to control, so why was he in a rush? Why so reckless?

"We're leaving tonight, so there is a rush." Eren murmured, assuming she was referring to his fighting style that stubbornly resumed its impatience. His eyes focused down on his balled-up fist, looking at it in deep thought. She watched him quietly, watching him inhale and exhale and assumed he was trying to relax the tension in his shoulders that Mikasa told him about previously. Taking one last deep breath, he continued with determination flaring in his eyes, "…Let's try it again. I just need to practice… control."

Control, huh?

She should be the last person to teach control. Not to mention, it was evident she failed given that Eren was still adamant in chasing down the Ackermans in his current state, where he was yet to reach his full potential of his fighting skills. He couldn't control that ever-growing dark fog of vengeance; it'd take more than a day's training to cure that, much less change his rash attitude and the bad habits that accompanied it.

Though, Mikasa couldn't necessarily blame him completely, for the hatred that blinded him.

She had failed to get an answer from Kenny about the person behind the late King's and Queen's murder. But, seeing his unhidden disdain for the castle and his unwavering hatred towards the royals, hinted at the possibility of such an association. Regardless, it wouldn't surprise her if Kenny or any of the late Ackermans were responsible for their death.

And that just made her all the more guilty, because of the blood she carried; and the blood on her hands.

Swallowing all that down, Mikasa's guard tenfold as they neared the house. Ackerman or not, as long as it wasn't actually Kenny behind the murder, it should be fine. She could handle it, right? Mikasa was an Ackerman after all.

But my bloodlust… She winced at the memory as she tailed Eren from behind, who was now searching for an alternative entrance to the house. It nearly awakened when that Princess Annie… She bit her lip, halting her thoughts there and then.

In the first place, how could anyone control someone that was born unstable?

You could only do so much. And more often than not, it was always still a gamble.

What she was doing right now, was a gamble. Betraying a part of her cautious nature, she followed the reckless Prince in hopes of earning his trust, so Kenny's trust in them to complete this mission wouldn't break and wreak havoc. Betraying a part of her cautious nature, she wanted to prove to Levi that she didn't always needed his help; ironic enough.

He needn't burden himself for her sake; Mikasa wanted him to know that. Though, maybe the reality was she wasn't cautious in nature at all, just a bird longing for flight.

Though truthfully, she was afraid. There was only so much she could do to suppress, and sometimes that wasn't enough.

Calm down. She warned herself, if you don't, you won't stand a chance at all…

"The window here is—" He paused mid-way, brows furrowing in concern. "Are you… okay?" He asked, concerned as his eyes squinted at Mikasa in an attempt to get a clearer look of what he assumed was uneasiness. "You don't look—"

"It's dark." Mikasa said curtly, shoving down any anxiousness as she took a step forward, mask on as she started fiddling with the window's handles. "And you should be on guard, too."

Eren frowned, arms crossed as he let her take charge a little reluctantly—it wasn't like he was complaining, he just didn't want her to do all the work. "I am… besides, how are you so familiar with these sorts of things?" He asked, cocking an eyebrow up when Mikasa managed to unlock the window quite swiftly, opening it up silently.

"With… the growing tensions within Hizuru at a point, it was best to teach me how to get out of those sorts of situations should I be kidnapped." She answered calmly, readying herself to spin another web of lies.

"Hm… or did you use it to sneak out? Or rather, sneak into some prohibited place when you were younger? Like the chef's store room or something..."

Mikasa rolled her eyes, wondering if Eren was referring to his own experiences. Thinking back, had she ever snuck off? It was a distant memory, but regardless she never successfully snuck off to the surface. Kenny always got to them first.

The only time she had visited the surface aside from the present, was a few times when she had been younger, before her bloodlust haunted her. Kenny had been with her, a little kinder then since she was still normal, for an Ackerman. He had wanted to teach her a lesson. A grave one at that.

Lifting a finger to her lips, Mikasa signalled to end the conversation there, before slowly entering the house through the unlocked window. She was instantly enveloped by darkness, given that there was no lighting in the room, and the general glum mood of the sky provided no aid to her vision. With her eyes squinted, she felt her way through the room till she felt something like the shape of a lantern. And lucky for her, it was right next to a box of matches.

Mikasa lit the candle in the lantern, the little ignited flame providing more clarity in her sight. She turned towards Eren, who had found himself his own lantern to guide him through the dark. When their eyes met, he nodded towards Mikasa and then towards the desk in front of him; presumably where he found the lantern.

On it laid designs for what appeared to be for shoes—and surrounding it were tools and other sort of equipment Mikasa wasn't all too familiar with, but it was safe to conclude he was some sort of craftsman, and that Eren appeared to want to investigate that specific region of this house.

Having no qualms with such an arrangement, Mikasa gave an approving nod and wandered deeper into the darkness. She soon found herself in his small kitchen, her eyes glancing from the pots and pans that hung on the wall to the small glass cabinet containing a few wine glasses and cheap alcohol. What am I even supposed to be looking for? Mikasa sighed, eyes darting about, noting the place to be rather tidy—unlike the workshop Eren was investigating. After the murder of his brother today… the guards must've collected all and any traces of evidence to catch the culprit, whether it was the Ackermans or not… Eren knows that much. The guards are not so careless to leave something noteworthy behind… what does he think he can find?

Mikasa wasn't sure what to feel about Eren's optimism, but regardless even if they left empty-handed, Eren still planned to roam the streets, the shadows to seek the Ackerman that supposedly committed today's murder.

If it wasn't Levi, if it wasn't her… there was only one Ackerman left, and Mikasa hoped he wasn't on the surface exploiting new customers of their coin.

Even so, Mikasa pondered, making her way towards the sink where the chopping board was kept aside, along with the single big-sized knife kept in the knife holder next to it, which Mikasa assumed to be a cleaver. Unless Kenny wanted to give us another warning… he avoids creating messes like this. Much less on the surface, in the capital…

She ignored that thought, it would be pointless to accuse him. What was she even going to do about it? Besides, the whole point of her agreeing to something so horrendously reckless was to get closer to him.

Finding nothing useful, she exited the kitchen and made her way elsewhere. Though, she stopped in her tracks when she heard the faint sounds of snores through the door next to her, which she assumed was the owner's room.

She considered entering his room. Light sleeper or not, Mikasa's footsteps were as light as a feather, and she picked up a fair share of stealth skills given her background. The question was if she wanted to give herself that much trouble. Because much to Eren's unawareness, there was only one person in the pair that was determined in finding the killer. Mikasa had a different objective.

Her eyes averted away momentarily as she considered, and noticed a small family portrait in a wooden frame, hanging on the wall. From what she garnered and if she remembered the mourning man's face right, it appeared that this man lived alone. The man standing next to him in the image, she assumed to be his late brother who carried two children in his arms. A young lady stood beside this man, which she presumed to be his wife given that her head rested on his shoulder. He looks rather awkward… Mikasa noted, referring to the remaining brother. His smile appeared forced too, unlike the rest of the family. An outcast, perhaps? Mikasa considered when she spotted the gap between him and his brother's family in that portrait.

She eventually shrugged it off, it wasn't like she was here to uncover whatever drama this family had. Upon concluding that it was in her best interest not to enter the room, she made her way back to Eren, wondering if he had found anything actually useful.

Over there at the mini shoe workshop, she noticed Eren staring at the desk, appearing to contemplate something.

"What's the matter?" Mikasa whispered as softly as she could, setting the lantern down on the desk.

Startled by her sudden intrusion, Eren's shoulders tensed. He hadn't noticed her approaching him at all, and given the current atmosphere, anyone would easily be frightened. He refused to admit that much to her, and was quick to straighten his back and force back his composure.

Mikasa decided not to mention it either, bickering was probably the worse thing they could be doing now. "The desk's top drawer is locked… I found a key, but not a keyhole." He explained, holding up a small silver key he had found underneath the mess of sketches.

Mikasa raised a brow. "And this will help lead us to the Ackermans because…?" She found it absurd that any criminal would hide their evidence in the victim's own secret safe.

"He could be related to an Ackerman." Eren reasoned, "You know, connected to them in some way…their identities are unknown and for all we know…"

The way he had sounded so certain and firm in his statement astounded Mikasa, though she didn't let it show on her face. She wasn't sure how she should feel about his reasoning, but whatever it was, her expression reflected nothing of it and she decided not to argue.

Instead, she heaved a sigh and brushing her ponytail to a side, she started to feel around the drawers, the edges and corners of the table—until she felt a little hole beneath paper taped to the end of the desk. She motioned for Eren to come, and a look of disappointment washed over him when he realised he missed such an obvious spot. However, knowing that there was not much time left to lose, he placed the key inside, twisting it.

The sound of a click told them that the top drawer was unlocked. Eager at the possibility of uncovering evidence, Eren made his way towards the drawer and opened it, where he spotted a… diary? And a will…?

While Eren looked through the diary, hoping to find some sort of connection this man had with the Ackermans for whatever reason, Mikasa decided to glance through the will.

From what Mikasa inferred, the will was most likely from his father, who detailed the rights to each brother—although, it was apparent to Mikasa that he favoured one brother over the other.

She glanced towards Eren, who wore a troubled look that only grew with each page he read. "What's wrong?" whispered Mikasa.

Eren closed the diary, deciding to read no further into it as the messages written inside were clear. "He hated his brother, apparently… something about his old man always favouring him… and how he managed to live a more serene life elsewhere out of town, leaving him behind…" He paused, and thought back to the scene he had witnessed on that early morning. The grief and pain that were written all over the mourning brother's face, distressed at his family member's unfortunate untimely death.

"Perhaps…" Eren continued, gripping the diary tighter, "…that day when he visited, they were about to reconcile, until…" He trailed off, discontinuing from there. Fortunately, Mikasa understood what he was trying to make sense of.

Except, it didn't click so much for her. Something didn't feel right.

She wasn't sure if Eren's wild reasoning or paranoia was spreading to her but her suspicions started to grow when she started to connect random dots based on what she witnessed so far.

'He could be related to an Ackerman.' — was what Eren claimed, and maybe it wasn't so far off the dot, because Mikasa started suspecting the murderer to be this man himself.

With all the evidence they have gathered, Mikasa was sure that there was some conflict between the brothers. That much was obvious. The murder element she suspected, not so much.

The knife. She thought back, growing increasingly uneasy. The knife in the kitchen… it isn't your normal small knife. No one would use such a big knife to chop simple things like vegetables or fruit… and it was his only knife…

And that drew the question: What happened to his regular knife? Did he even have one at all? Or was Mikasa really just overthinking?

Recalling back, the corpse had many holes, all tainted with red. If she had observed clearly enough, those stabs could easily be the work of a small kitchen knife.

If it wasn't the work of Kenny or any other Ackerman, if the murderer managed to kill this man's brother on his visit without the guards noticing any strange figure lurking about possibly because the victim had willingly entered the home, away from the guard's sphere of vision then…

The muffled sound of shuffling feet snapped Mikasa out of her thoughts. A sense of urgency sprung onto her.

"We need to go. Now." She urged, blowing out both of their lanterns.

Eren's eyes widened in confusion, "What? Why?"

Mikasa didn't have time to give her own crazy reasoning, much less explain it. Moreover, even if her suspicions were wrong—the man was waking up, they had to leave. And if he was indeed the murderer, the faster they should. She was in no mood to face a murderer, high-calibre or not. It would only warrant much unneeded distress "I'll explain later. We have to move, now."

As much as Eren wanted to protest, the plea in her eyes beckoned him to comply. "Okay, but—"

The sound of the twist of the metallic knob, accompanied by a door creaking indicated to Mikasa that they were a second too late to escape. Before Eren could've continued his sentence, she hastily dragged him down and pulled him underneath the desk along with herself.

Her eyes shifted to Eren, who finally understood the situation.

Don't make a sound. —was what the stern look in her eyes communicated.

I know! —Eren responded with a similar look of concern.

Dragging his feet, the man stopped in front of his desk, lighting up the lantern left on his desk. Judging by his silence, he neither appeared to notice the re-arranged mess by Eren who had been investigating the area, nor was he aware of the obvious clues in his house that indicated it had been invaded. If he was, Mikasa wondered why he didn't seem frantic. She ultimately assumed he was still recovering from his drowsiness, having just woken up from his sleep. That or a hangover, given that she had picked up a light scent of alcohol that now lingered in the air in his presence.

"…thought I heard something…" He grumbled, staring tiredly at the messy sketches of a new shoe design he had been preparing for a customer. He clicked his tongue, and shoved them all aside with much haste. "Can't believe that good-for-nothing brother dared insult my works… how could father let him inherit almost everything?" He spat, rubbing his groggy eyes. "Well… now he's dead."

Both Mikasa and Eren noticed the lack of anguish in his speech, replaced with something cold and chilling, maybe even foreboding upon recapping his brother's death—a stark contrast to the grief-stricken performance he had put on for the public. It disturbed Eren deeply, while Mikasa, much to her dismay, was starting to be convinced of her suspicions.

If only they could see the grin on his face when he continued to madly bellow out how all his father's riches now belonged to him, announce his plan to steal back his soulmate that was his late brother's wife, and finally entertaining the idea of murdering the innocent children of his brother, that looked all too much like him.

Mikasa gripped Eren's wrist tightly when she saw the growing vexation in his eyes, the blood boiling inside of him that triggered his veins that popped out. She could understand his anger, she herself was disgusted at this man too. She had encountered many like him whenever Kenny assigned her a killing mission, with scums like him as a target.

And right now, he wasn't her target. Supposedly, he technically wasn't Eren's either. He wasn't an Ackerman, just an insane man who somehow came to the conclusion murder resolves everything. We should escape and inform the guards, Mikasa thought, assuming it'd be better than direct confrontation for fear of things becoming needlessly bruised and bloody. While she didn't doubt Eren's combat ability to be much higher than his, judging by the anger surging in the brunette's veins, she feared that that may become his undoing. Or even hers, should unluckiness be on her side.

Eren turned towards her, seeing that pleading look in her eyes once more, and the worry mixed in them. It was a reminder to him that he wasn't in this situation alone, and that there was someone else he needed to look out for and not just succumb to his selfishness that called for him to reveal his presence and lash out at this man.

Mikasa watched as the fury in his eyes dissolve into something she took for compliance to her unspoken request, the tension in his body almost fully relaxing; until the man spoke of Eren's name.

"I bet that Prince and his guards think it's those bastard Ackermans… all the better!" He laughed, mocking. "How easy it is to get away with murder by blaming those masked shits… why do people still seek them? Waste of bloody money." He cursed. "What a fool they all are… and now I get to live freely. Thank the gods the guards, the advisors, the Prince are idiots—"

And that was the last straw.

"How dare you?!" The shoemaker's words were enough to fuel back his rage and forget about Mikasa in that instant as he shot out from underneath the desk the moment he managed to struggle free from Mikasa's grasp. "How dare you live freely after you murdered your own family?!"

"P-Prince?!" The man stuttered, backing away as Eren started to approach him with his fists balled up, ready to strike. "W-What are you—"

"Answer me!" He yelled, furious as he towered over him.

Mikasa, who was still under the protection by the veil of darkness and shadows the desk casted over her, squinted her eyes from beneath. She came to a decision to keep her presence a secret for now. While the lantern he had lighted provided some source of light to shoo away the pitch black, the more Eren pressed on and pushed back the man into the shadows where the light couldn't reach, the more she found it difficult to discern what was happening, to determine the severity of the situation and if she should intervene.

I could tackle him down now, and Eren could get the guards around to arrest him, and this day would come to an end. She considered, there will be no blood spilled and—

"You wouldn't understand!" The man, gathering the remains of his courage, barked back at the Prince. "You— who was born to claim all the riches without having to lift a finger— will not understand!" He cried out. "I had to work—and for what? My business is barely surviving despite all my efforts and my other efforts to please my father… yet he gets it all?! That lazy bastard?! He is better off dead like my old man!"

"So what better way than to put an end to him and my misery?!" He continued, fearless as he now became the one towering over the latter. "And then blame the Ackermans! Blame those faceless killers because you and for all I know the bloody council will believe so because whatever the problem, everyone blames them. It's the easiest way out. I will be free! But now…"

The candle was burning out fast, the flame was flickering, making it more difficult for Mikasa to see. However, with what little light it offered, she could make out the man's hands reaching down in his pocket—where she noticed an awfully familiar handle sticking out, along with what she distinguished to something triangular bulging from his pocket.

Oh no.

No, no…

And all this while Eren was distracted, readying himself to retaliate and shoot back arguments rather than defend himself from the oncoming attack.

The light eventually burnt out, and the man took it as a signal to strike now that Eren had a disadvantage in both sight and weapon-wise. His arm raised, hand gripping the missing kitchen knife, readying to plunge down on the Prince—until Mikasa forced herself forward, shielding and pushing them away from the oncoming knife's slash; albeit much to Mikasa's horror, the faint scent of blood was enough to tell her she didn't dodge it completely.

Her arm was bleeding.

Shit.

"W-Who is t—" Mikasa didn't allow the man to finish his sentence; she swiftly left Eren's side and proceeded to push the man on the ground, securing his wrists and held him down. Don't panic, don't panic, don't panic. Mikasa chanted internally, before casting a glance towards Eren's direction.

"Go and get help now!" She demanded.

Everything had happened so fast, Eren took a moment to register to gravity of the situation. Even he caught scent of blood, and assumed in rescuing him, Mikasa had injured herself.

Something heavy began to weigh down in his heart, which he identified as guilt. Why am I so useless? He thought. How could I not notice the knife?

However, at the very least he knew better than to sink into self-loathing now. The fight wasn't over. Knowing this, he should run out and get help—but he didn't. Some part of him was hesitant to leave Mikasa alone with this murderer, as much as he admired her skills and acknowledged her strength, how could she fight alone in the dark? Much less with an open, bleeding injury that for all Eren knew, was at some vital area? He couldn't make a decision in time.

"No! Let me—"

"Just go—ARGH!" Mikasa yelped—not because the man beneath her had landed another hit, but because she was feeling familiar pangs of pain that came charging in her head, along with nefarious, insidious voices that beckoned her to let go, let loose.

The blood trailing down her arm—the sensation of it, feeling it prickling down and dripping and staining the man's blouse beneath her—only made her more inclined to—

NO! She fought back, forcefully shoving all those thought away. I can't—

"You… You rascal!" He shrieked, breaking free of Mikasa's grasp in her second of weakness. And unfortunately for her, that second of weakness only regressed into fragility when the battle in her mind grew noisier; voices condemning her for not letting herself succumb faster. Voices that baited her into going mad, because then maybe she wouldn't find herself in this position where the man managed to push her down, pulling on the ends of her long, tied-up hair with much vehemence—but it wasn't this display of force and roughness that made Mikasa screech.

The sound of metal clattering on the ground was what averted her attention briefly to her south, where she noticed his knife had fallen out.

45 seconds. Mikasa estimated. This wasn't her rodeo. She was a criminal. She estimated that she had 45 seconds to act before Eren either moves first and does something that might only drag out this unnecessary fight. She had 45 seconds before this man stopped lamenting about his pathetic life to the now stunned Prince and then do something to her (when he started to lament, she didn't know; every sound was muffled, almost mute, all she heard was the disarray, growing and growing in volume, awaiting to explode in her mind). And she knew she had only half that time before the candle light dies out. The most stressful of all, she knew she had much less time to recover or—

No. Mikasa tried her best to remain firm, and with a shaky breath she continued in her resolution. I will not succumb. I can't. I will not.

I can protect myself. She tried to focus on Levi, whom she remembered making a vague promise along the lines that she could take care of herself. This was the time to prove her competency. She tried—really, excruciatingly tried to shut those voices out, to shut that urge to quench her thirst for murder, for execution. Control. She struggled so hard for control.

I refuse to succumb!

Soon, the shadows devoured them whole, tossing the two men into a state of panic. In contrast, Mikasa found herself committing to her resolution; remaining sane in spite of everything.

Knowing well to exploit this situation, she reached out to where she last saw the knife was, holding it tightly before slicing off her hair, freeing herself from the man's grasp.

Mikasa also knew better than to celebrate this new form of liberation. She had to act, now—but at the same time, be cautious not to let anymore blood spill more than necessary in fear that it may trigger those murderous feelings to resurface.

However, before she could make the next move, Eren who appeared to recover from his stunned state had leaped forward to tackle the man. Considering the pitch blackness of the room, Mikasa was a little surprised that a fighter like him at least had some level of sensing despite the mistakes he had made not too long ago, when his decisiveness was put in question.

Judging by the hoarse noises and grunts the man made, it was safe to say that at the very least Eren could restrain an amateur fighter like him. Though, she wasn't sure about the duration he could hold him down—he was a man capable of murder after all, who knew what else he had up his sleeve?

She hurried towards Eren, ignoring the thin trail of blood cascading down her arms; the sound of it dripping onto the ground—it was cruelly amazing, in a way, that her ears were sensitive enough to pick up such a sound that riled temptation if one allowed themself to focus too much on it.

For the better or worse, the loud sound of a thud accompanied by silence and heavy pants from who she assumed to be Eren's was what diverted her attention away.

"Did you… Did you just knoc—"

Footsteps. Mikasa noted, hasty footsteps.

Of course all that yelling would draw attention from the neighbours—and eventually the guards who made their rounds.

Now Mikasa was panicking. This wasn't one of her murder missions where she needed to dispose of the dead body somewhere—this man was still alive and breathing and in the eyes of Paradis's and currently Eren's, she was not supposed to be a criminal. She was not supposed to be an Ackerman. She didn't know what to do. Or how to answer to the guards because by right, her and Eren weren't supposed to be here—and well, with an unconscious civilian being pinned down by Eren with her next to him seemed awfully mortifying and she could bet would result in a conspiracy—

She turned towards Eren for guidance, hoping he'd say something. And while she couldn't exactly make out his expression, he didn't seem worried at all.

"It's Jean and Connie. I remember." Eren spoke, recalling the patrol duty list he had looked over. Mikasa wasn't sure why that made a difference, until the door opened, revealing two guards holding a lantern which chased some of the darkness out.

"Jean, Connie—"

"Eren?!" Jean—one of the guards—exclaimed. "What are you— Oh my fucking god." Evidently, as they took more steps into the house, they eventually came to see the unconscious man underneath Eren. Mikasa on the other hand, instinctively sunk herself deeper into the shadows where the light didn't reach, unsure if her presence would invite more devastation and worsen this entire twist of events

Connie could barely even comprehend the sight before him. Sure, Eren did get himself into some shit every now and then… but this. This was on a whole other level. "What the hell, Eren—"

"He murdered his brother. Not… the Ackermans." Mikasa noted his tentativeness when he came to the consensus that indeed, this was not the work of the Ackermans. Just how blindly did Eren follow through his vengeance?

"What—on what basis—"

"Me… admitting that should be evidence enough." He appeared to have some self-awareness as well, about the severity of his vengeance and the impact it had on him. Slowly, he stood up and made his way towards his desk; gesturing to his entire mini-workshop. "You will find there some convincing evidence. If you put him in the interrogation chamber, he'll most likely crack fast… especially if you get Erwin Smith. But don't let the advisors or anyone else know I was here."

Connie went over to take a glimpse at the scattered notes and what Eren claimed to be evidence. Jean pinched the bridge of his nose, exhausted. "Eren, you can't keep expecting us to cover shit for you. What are we even going to say about this? This isn't like your other stunts! Do you even know our reputation—the guards' reputation is at stake here? I know you're the Prince and— Wait, how did you even get—"

Mikasa observed that the two guards were close to Eren, as obvious as it was from the informal language and tone they adopted. She wasn't entirely sure how to feel about that but it was apparent to her that they appeared to have some sort of… moral conflict perhaps? After all, it wasn't like a kingdom could keep letting their stubborn Prince run loose.

Eren coughed, quick to cut Jean off. "Just say you overheard him confessing things. And because it is the truth, your reputation wont tarnish. Just trust me. If anything goes wrong, I'll intervene."

Jean's eyes narrowed, and it didn't appear to him that Eren understood the point he was making. He took a step forward closer, lifting the lantern up to get a clearer view. "You—Wait, is that—?!"

Eren turned towards the direction Jean was looking at, wondering what incited him to have such a horrified expression—and that was when he saw Mikasa, who came to the conclusion that given this coincidental circumstance, there wasn't a point in hiding. If anything, she just wanted to leave as immediately as possible.

Judging by how Eren openly revealed himself to them despite the entire chaos, he must've placed a lot of trust in them. Mikasa hoped she made that right judgement.

But that wasn't what resulted in Jean's—now Eren's too—horrified looks. Nor was it her new, unkempt and uneven hair. It was the stain of blood that painted a part of her arm.

When Connie averted his gaze for a bit to see what the fuss was all about, he gasped and proceeded to express absolute frustration in Eren. He appeared to be frantic. "It's one thing for you to get in this mess, but dragging Princ—"

"Is it still bleeding?" Eren asked, rushing over to Mikasa's side with a look heavy of guilt. Regardless of the frenzy and action that took place, he couldn't believe that he had forgotten the lingering scent of blood in the air that had fleetingly made his heart palpitate with anxiety—because how could he let the person who practically dragged along to get hurt? How could he have hesitated?

"No, I… I just…" She looked down, not at the blood—definitely not that, but at the ground; contemplatively, before she continued. "I just want to wash it off—"

"There's a river nearby." Eren answered her, fast, before Mikasa could even finish her statement. And perhaps it was for the better, because she had planned to assure him that it was fine. That they didn't need to clean it up, because it was fine. When in reality, she wasn't sure if it was.

She wouldn't necessarily count this as a victory of her having control over those sickening urges, neither would she count it as a loss. She had seen Levi supress similar temptations faster than she could ever imagine. That, was true control.

"Let's go." The softness in Eren's tone had caught her off guard, her eyes flickering back up to meet his. Mikasa wasn't even aware that she nodded in agreement, until his hand wrapped around hers as he pulled her out of the dim-lit room, leaving Jean and Connie back there who were in slight protest, "Oi, you—"

It was too late, Eren was already far away, making his way pass the quiet alleys where less night owls would spot them and towards a small river that ran downward underneath a bridge; all the while as he held Mikasa's hand. And Mikasa let him, convincing herself that it was just him being polite, providing her a distraction from the red that scarred her skin.

.

.

.

The softness in Eren's tone was one thing, but the tenderness he showed when he assisted Mikasa in rinsing the blood off was something else.

Mikasa had initially insisted that she'd wash it off herself. But what made her eventually resign was his unbending persistence. That and… maybe she herself, or at least a small part of herself, didn't want to touch it.

Even if she established some level of control today, there was some paranoia lingering in her that those voices would come out again to haunt her should she look at that new wound and think too much.

Eren was gentle, less impatient and hasty which was a stark contrast to his sparring. He paid attention to Mikasa and the minor reactions she had when it had hurt, and he'd immediately correct his mistake. She found this side of him a little… amusing, in a way. This silence that sat between them didn't feel awkward at all, and strangely she didn't feel that much discomfort. If anything, his calmness resulted in her own.

"… I'm sorry." Eren said quietly once he was done washing off the dried blood off her arms. "There aren't any bandages here… and my shirt and other things are dirtied… and also for letting that—I didn't know why I even hesi—"

Noticing a peculiar vexation starting to sprout, Mikasa intervened. "It's alright. It's… not that deep" She tried to smile in a vain attempt to assure him, though to no avail, it didn't work. "Hey… um, everything… more or less worked out in a way, right? The culprit is captured and all. Hopefully those two guards won't say anything about… this. And, you know, there's… you can still improve."

"I know- it's just- actually, it's not—" Eren took a deep breath, collecting and organising his thoughts before he continued. "It's just a lot. I can't believe I just… stood there. How could I not make a swift decision? I heard you screech and I thought that madman hit a vital organ or something and I was so… utterly useless. I… let you get hurt, I know you came here out of your own accord but I did drag you into this in a way. And you looked a little… uncomfortable. Uneasy during the aftermath and… and now even your hair…"

Ah, right.

In the midst of everything, Mikasa had chopped off her hair having deemed it as the fastest way to escape his grasp that didn't involve the act of spilling blood and that he would take a few seconds (nonetheless, valuable time) to notice her escape which would give her a few seconds extra to think and act with speedy decisiveness; that was until Eren came in. Not that it was a bad thing. He had ended the fight after all.

She took a glimpse at herself in the river, to see that her hair now touched her shoulders—though admittedly a little… frazzled. Well, she did use a knife to cut it rather than the traditional pair of scissors. Not like it mattered either way. As if she had the time to worry about appearances.

"It's… something new." Eren quirked his eyebrow at her response, unconvinced. "Really, I mean, short hair isn't that bad, I can even it out later… and you know, anyone would be a little… uneasy when there's blood." She added in reassurance. Her words weren't exactly lies. She didn't mind short hair, in some ways it was more convenient than her long hair. And as for blood—rather than a lie, she just omitted the extent blood affected her.

"I… even so, I'm sorry. I really am." He repeated, even more sincerely. As if he realised just how grave his errors were today.

Eren paused for a moment—letting it all sink in. Mikasa waited, not intruding this silence that he used to process everything that happened.

"…Perhaps—no, definitely, it… I have made a mistake in always blaming those bloody Ackermans. Like Hanji told me before, I know it can blind me but… it's difficult. Because they killed my parents. I know that at the very least that is a fact, I overheard the advisors talking about it before when I was a toddler. One of the maids who used to work for us had even watched that Ackerman leave through the window… leaving the corpses—" His breathe hitched the more he let himself become a victim to his own vulnerability, revealing bits and pieces of his own misery and agony that he had endured all this time while being practically an orphan.

Yes, there were his advisors that taught and educated him. Yes, there were the caring maids that fed and played with him when he had been a child. Yes, there were guards who protected him from the dangers outside. Yes, he had Armin who was his closest childhood friend, companion even. But they weren't his parents. They weren't the King or Queen. And as a Prince, who was soon to be crowned King, who could he possibly look up to for proper, genuine guidance? And it wasn't just that—it was everything and the nothingness they left behind. It all hurt.

In the midst of it all, Mikasa couldn't even bring herself to reach out her hand to wrap around his trembling pair, to tell him that it was all alright. She tried to force herself to, because she needed to befriend him in order for progress to be made. Move, she urged herself, but her body only stiffened. She started to feel sick, as if something was rotting inside her. And it wasn't the direct fault of her bloodlust.

"I… I-I'm sorry." Mikasa found herself spluttering out, too carelessly. It was just… his tears. His dreadful tears that started to gather at the corner of his eyes that caused this awful, nauseating feeling to drown her. She wasn't sure what sort of expression she was making now, and she wasn't sure if she wanted to know.

"Why are you apologising? I know I'm in a shitty pitiful state now but… don't be. It's not your fault." Eren laughed lightly, sucking those tears back in.

"It's just… how could they fucking murder my parents? It wasn't like they were tyrants or dictators or anything… if anything, they helped Paradis prosper for the most part. What kind of sickening criminals are they? I don't get it. I've been so alone…I… but that aside…" He coughed, readjusting himself. "And it just makes me so angry that… I have failed to realise that while the Ackermans still stir havoc on the surface time to time, other scums like them exist. But even so- I can't just let this issue go- I can't… I can't let go. I refuse to let their corruption seep into the surface and allow people to think becoming psychopaths like them or accepting their devil deals is a good thing – I can't let… I can't—…"

Eren eventually trailed off, and Mikasa didn't fill the prompt silence that followed. She couldn't.

Ackermans were really monsters, huh? Mikasa knew nothing much about her clan prior to her birth, before they were wiped out as if by a plague. Neither did Levi. All she knew was that they all had bloodlust, and that they were known as Paradis's biggest enemy up until they died down; or so it seemed. That was the tale she was told.

Only three were left; and only two ever ventured on the surface—both in the capital and countryside—to seek prey. Even then, it wasn't as frequent as the past, based on Eren's description. Though, Mikasa didn't account what Kenny did in his free time when he would occasionally ghost her and Levi. If that time was used to kill, then perhaps the statistics might not have changed so much. She decided to disregard that possibility for the time-being.

Mikasa was sure Eren's imprudence would take time to completely change in spite of the epiphany he just came to; of mindlessly pinning the blame about almost every murder case on the Ackermans. Vengeance won't die down so easily. His entire rant and self-reflection hinted at the struggling conflict he still had—he still couldn't let go of chasing and then killing the Ackermans. He sought what he believed to be justice, fairness. An eye for an eye. A life for a life. All horridly twisted.

However… she thought, eyes lowering to her cleaned arm, remembering that this reckless man was the same benevolent and careful man that had helped her. Not all… is lost.

Eren still stood a chance of being free from becoming a slave to revenge; there were no ropes, no chains, nothing that confined him to walking the path of revenge so blindly. He could be free of that burden. If anything, it'd make pursuing and defeating the Ackermans, won't it? After all, his mind wouldn't be fogged with plans as disorderly as this. There would be clarity, wit and a peculiar shrewdness that'd make killing them just a little easier—well, not that hunting them down was an easy task in the first place. Not that Mikasa wanted him to try to kill the remains of her clan.

Killing only her on the other hand—

"I just wish…they would just disappear." Eren summarised, "All of those Ackermans. All of those people like them… for good. Everything… I, would be a little more free."

Eren had looked hopeful as he told her about his wish, his dream about being free. And it made Mikasa wonder.

Once again, repeating this to herself for hell knows how many times already, freedom was something unattainable for the likes of her, right?

Unless… Mikasa thought, and found herself sink into a chilling void that was all too familiar. Her gaze averted to her hands, her bloody, stained hands that could never be washed off. Death… is death the only way I can be fr—

"What's your wish?" Eren asked when Mikasa failed to deliver a verbal response.

"…Huh?" Mikasa lifted her head up to face, albeit it wasn't enough to completely interrupt those depressing thoughts. "My… wish?" She repeated uncertainly, and Eren nodded. Perhaps this was his attempt to switch the topic into something light-hearted after all that tragic talk; little did Eren know the tragedy was Mikasa's impossible wish.

Mikasa scoffed, arms crossed as she turned away from Eren. "It's…" She paused, and while she wasn't certain about the accuracy about her chosen descriptor which she decided to relay, she continued, "It's silly." Her arms wrapping around herself tighter the more she thought about it. Her wish.

"Can't be that bad." Eren said, quirking a brow before he attempted at humour, "When I was younger, I wished to become a fish when I struggled with learning how to swim."

"A fish?" Mikasa said with disbelief, her body twisting back a little to partially face Eren. Aside from the brief mirth that appeared fleetingly on her expression, there was this sadness that tainted her entire being. Eren couldn't pinpoint the exact reason why, and why it had been happening quite a few times by now. He initially assumed it was homesickness, or pressure from the entire East-Sea region for her to establish genuine ties as a step away from their isolation.

Yet, something about that theory didn't feel right. He felt like there was something more behind the flicker of gloom she showcased to him every now and then. As much as he wanted to pry, he wondered if it was too soon to ask something that may be personal. That and he still had some decent manners despite everything that happened in the ball. He wasn't someone that inconsiderate.

"A fish. Silly, right? But hey, I can swim now so it did somewhat come true." Eren laughed lightly, earning a small smile from Mikasa which he took victory in. "So… tell me."

There's that gentleness again. Mikasa noted, and why she felt some sort of inclination to answer honestly after that was beyond her.

"…Freedom." She murmured, still having some sense to know that complete honesty wasn't something she could commit herself to, much less promise it to him. Not to someone who viewed people of her kind as sworn enemies. "… Free of responsibilities, and all that… I barely had a moment like that before… I suppose you can relate." Not to the same extent, though. Mikasa thought privately. It's silly, to dream of having freedom while living as an Ackerman.

"That's not silly." Eren frowned, arguing back. "Nothing is silly about wanting freedom. Any and all decent human beings deserve that."

Decent. It was almost laughable how he thought of her as decent.

And human—that was even more of a joke. Because in his eyes, she was a monster. Because she was an Ackerman. If only he knew; would she still look as decent in his eyes?

"I know this place…" Eren mentioned, "High up, close to the clouds… and… away. It's… really serene. It feels so free. Sometimes… I even forget about them and everything else the moment the cool breeze hits me."

"You would like it there." He pressed on, walking up and towards her. "So… let me make it up to you… for…" He gestured to her arm and then continued, his hand then reaching back to scratch the nape of his neck. "Let me take you there."

Mikasa didn't accept his offer, not at first. "…But don't we—"

"We don't have to be back so soon. Come on." He insisted, an assuring look settling on his face. "I know a short cut."

If I go… it'll maybe keep those… terrible emotions away, so that I can actually get close to him without feeling so…so… it's for the sake of the mission and I shouldn't — Mikasa's thoughts came to an abrupt halt when she saw him start to smile as further reassurance.

"Please?" He looked at her so warmly, pleadingly. "Don't you want to feel a little free, Princess Mikasa Azu?"

And then she found herself unable to convince herself of wherever her train of thoughts had been leading her. She found herself close to melting. She found herself plummeting deeper into the narrative of Princess Mikasa Azu for a fleeting moment, where the horrid feelings of guilt didn't exist in that persona.

"L…Lead the way." Those words tumbled out of her lips faster than they could register in her mind.

Mikasa wasn't sure why she felt this way. Or why when Eren led her, keeping his hands to himself this time, did she feel so disappointed and… cold.


"See? What did I tell ya? She's an unstable brat but not completely pathetic. No need to intervene for now." Kenny scoffed, watching the two of them running off. He didn't plan to follow them any further, finding the idea of stalking his niece on whatever romantic farce she appeared to manipulate the Prince into (at least, from his perspective) rather distasteful. Turning towards the cloaked woman next to him, he continued, "Oi, no need to wear that baggy hood over all the time. Those pesky servants aren't gonna patrol 'ere."

"Tsk," Clicking her tongue with much irritation, she lowered her hood; for the sake of getting a better view of Mikasa, who she had been gravely concerned when her arm had bled. "The likes of you would never understand true caution," She remarked coldly, and Kenny cackled in response—it had been a while since someone dared be this snappy towards him.

"For all the years I've known you, you always looked at them and treated them as pathetic little things…" The woman said, already beginning to list down all of Kenny's horrid, flawed traits that she came to hate (and reluctantly tolerate) overtime. "Not to mention that godawful bloodlust—"

"Don't forget precious lil' Princess has it too." Kenny had cut her off curtly, being deliberately taunting. "I hope yer' hadn't forgotten that, Kiyomi. And our deal. After all, 'yer are partially responsible for that brat being so messed up than the 'normal'."

Tuning out the last bit of Kenny's sentence, Kiyomi maintained her complete unwavering composure and confident posture before answering back, "I haven't. I just hope you can hold your end of the deal we made years ago." She was one of the very few people out there who didn't cower in his presence. Perhaps it was because she knew her and Kenny stood on equal grounds in one way or another; something both parties didn't like to acknowledge.

Kenny merely shrugged his shoulders, and while he looked nonchalant, the underlying menace and threat in his following statement hinted otherwise should Kiyomi betray the pact made. "As long as yer' hold up your end, Azumabito."


Author's Note:

WOOOO BEEN A HOT MINUTE Y'ALL BUT IM ALIVE AND IT FEELS GREAT TO WORK ON THIS AGAIN! (And i hope it is okay? If not feel free to provide constructive criticism! Much appreciated :))

Again, I don't really know the next time I can update. And the reason behind is the same as always: Life sucks. I'll probably be able to update more regularly in December or next year if everything goes alright? Hopefully SnK fandom won't die out by then lol; and I hope y'all will continue reading this if so? Then again, not like I can force you to read this horrendous writi-

AnYWaY, again, hope this wasn't too wordy (then again maybe it makes up for my absence? Lol idk) or was horrifyingly bad given my poor vocab ;-; ,, next chapter will most likely contain some levihan and maybe flashbacks? We shall see~

Thank you for reading and staying tuned regardless, it means a lot! While I don't reply to all the comments mostly because lack of time, that or it was kinda very late, just know that I really appreciate them and the kudos too :) I have them all starred in my email lol.

Please Leave a review, Constructive Criticism is welcomed.

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