"So it's agreed. We go to the European Collection and the American Wing, all on one floor," said Historia, sitting at the Met's enormous stairs; the massive structure of the museum behind her back, high-rise mansions, and the usual traffic of the famous Fifth Avenue on the opposite side. Her eyes skimmed over the faces of the kids surrounding her, sprawled over the stony steps. Everyone was surprisingly agreeable and quiet. "You can explore at your own pace, but don't run and talk too loud. It's a museum. All right?"
She got several nods and grunts in response.
"Good. Now, when we leave the Met… Armin, do you have the map?" she asked. Armin unfolded a big, colorful map of Central Park, with the touristic attractions marked with symbolic drawings. All of them leaned over it, and Historia showed them the route.
"We will be here." She put her finger over the map. "We could take this way and go to the Ramble, and then see the Belvedere Palace on the way, Shakespeare Garden here, and then down to the Strawberry Fields and John Lennon Memorial."
"Or," said Armin, turning the map upside down for a better view. "We could go through the Ramble, to the Bow Bridge. That way, we could see Bethesda Fountain and Terrace. And then turn here," his finger moved along the map, "back to the Strawberry Fields."
"But what about the turtles?!" Connie whined, pointing his finger at the map. "Turtles are in the Turtle Pond and also here, at the Hernshead. I want to see the turtles…"
"Don't touch that with your dirty finger…" Eren scoffed and smacked Connie's palm, earning an annoyed hiss in return. "Look, we could go here… along this coast of the Turtle Pond." Eren drew an invisible line over the map. "Over the arch here to the Ramble, and down to the Bow Bridge… Everything is on the way. And technically, there should be turtles, but knowing your luck, they will hide from you…"
"Hey, nobody asked you for an opinion about the turtles," Connie snapped, and his eyebrows drew together in a frown.
"What?!" Eren shrugged. "If I were a turtle, I would hide from you."
"Both of you, stop it right now. Connie, we will see the turtles," said Historia and shook her head, giving them both a serious look. "Eren, please cut it down. I don't really care which way we go, as long we get the Carriage Point close to the Columbus Circle to meet Levi and Mikasa in time." She sighed. "Sasha, will you be able to keep from eating until then? Once we are back together, we will get one-dollar pizzas, or bagels, or whatever you'll all want, and picnic on the Sheep Meadow here. Can you be brave and hold on until then?"
Sasha let out a heavy huff in response but nodded.
"Fine, fine. Historia? Why are they seeing a lawyer, anyway? Is Mikasa in trouble?" she glanced up enquiringly at Historia, and her brown eyes widened.
"No, no. Everything is fine." Historia took a deep breath to answer Sasha's question. "She just…"
"She just doesn't want to live with her crazy uncle anymore." Eren cut in, his voice low and serious. "She wants to emancipate."
"Emancipate?" Isabel asked, her voice slightly trembling. Everyone else went suddenly silent, only the street traffic and tourist buzz all around them. "Is she going to live with us then?"
"Everything will be fine. Mikasa is going to decide on her own what she wants to do. If she wants to live with us, of course, but she will have other options, too. If she is going to stay with us, will you share your bedroom with her?"
"Of course, it would be so cool." Isabel jumped on the stairs. "Sasha?"
"Yes, of course, I always wanted to have more sisters…" she laughed and nudged Isabel, "more girl-power in da house!"
"Great, let's see how it goes. Now everyone, are we all ready to go inside?"
"So, how do you like it so far?" Historia slid her hand under Jean's arm. They were ambling along with the line of visitors exploring the 19th- And Early 20th -Century European Paintings And Sculpture exhibition, the Met's world-famous collection of European art.
"It's great, truly," he whispered in response.
They were in the part of the galleries dedicated to the Impressionists and Post-Impressionists, strolling from one framed painting on the wall to another, leaning in to read the information on the placards, painters such as Monet, Manet, Degas, Toulouse-Lautrec, Cézanne, Gauguin, Van Gogh, Picasso, Renoir flashing in front of their eyes.
"I am glad," she responded in a whisper. "I love every piece. This is my favorite part of the collection and the whole movement. Look at all the details. You can see every brushstroke, every pigment, every dot."
They both bent over the soft rope separating them from the painting, a study for a "Sunday on La Grande Jatte."
"And yet with so much of the attention to details, the big picture is so atmospheric and complete when you look at it from a distance. What is it for an animal in the forefront? A monkey? A cat?"
They both giggled, walking away.
"Good point about looking at it from a distance. And I'm sure he meant a dog," Historia said, her voice quiet. "By the way, Seurat was kind of a badass. He invented this style of painting. The technique is called pointillism, but he preferred to use divisionism, the name coming from separating the colors and putting the small brushstrokes of each pigment close to each other. They blend into a whole as you distance yourself from the painting. Later the pointillism became just the technique of painting consisting of tiny points, regardless of the colors. Which, well… I like the original idea better."
"That's cool. I had no idea you knew so much about art. It's badass, too. How do you know all of that?"
They wandered from one gallery to the other, their firm footsteps resounding on the marble floors. Historia steered Jean to an uncomfortable wooden bench in the middle of the room. They sat in silence, admiring the painting in front of them.
"Well, at some point, I wanted to study art…" she said, leaning into him, "it didn't work out that way, but I still like art, read about it, and paint and draw from time to time."
"It didn't work… because of us?"
"Oh, no, Jean…" Historia squeezed his arm, her heart sinking on the mere idea he could have thought that. "It went to hell much earlier than I would have ever thought of fostering a bunch of kids. There was surfing. I thought I had a serious shot at it. And because of this minor accident, it didn't work out, and then… you've heard all about our families." She paused, studying Jean's preoccupied face. "Seriously, the decision to foster all of you was the best one we've ever taken and has nothing to do with me not being able to study art."
"That's a relief… I wouldn't like for you to give up on your dreams… for us."
"Jean… you can't think that. You all," she said, pressing her cheek to his arm, hard. "You are the best family that I could've hoped for. Now, you wanna see my favorite artist of them all?"
"Sure. But by the way you talked about it," Jean sniggered, "I thought this Seurat was your favorite."
"Oh, I am just getting started," she laughed a brief sadness that had crawled into her heart with the conversation they'd just had lifting with the change of the subject. "But first… tell me, any paintings you liked so far?"
"I liked many of them, to be honest. But if you insist, I think I liked all the ballerinas' paintings. So gentle and ephemeral but so realistic at the same time."
"Ah, Degas, great choice, Jean. It's a class of its own."
"Thanks. Now, what's yours?"
"Come, just here. Have you heard about Gauguin and his paintings of Tahitian women? If you liked Degas, I think you are going to like them."
Eren strolled down the long meandering path, turning his face up to catch the rays of sun cutting through the thick green canopy of tree branches. It felt weird. Central Park was in the middle of Manhattan. Yet, the distant city sounds were practically absent, no horns, no sirens, no buzzing of busy streets; instead, he could hear birds chirping, dogs barking, rustling of the leaves, and distant chatter of people walking ahead of him.
A mist from the distant fountain blew in his face, carried by the gentle, warm city wind, and someone's steady footsteps caught up to him.
"Hi, Eren," said Jean, falling into step with him.
"Jean?" he drew a deep, harsh breath. He didn't expect Jean to come to talk to him out of the blue. He had to want something.
"Yeah, Eren. I wanted to ask you…" Jean lowered his head and cast a side look at Eren, his hands thrust into the pockets of his jeans. Then he cleared his throat hesitantly.
"Hey, spit it out. What do you want from me?"
"Right…" Jean stirred some of the crawling roots and grass as he dragged his feet over the overgrown path. "You and Mikasa, you are not dating anymore, right?"
"We aren't, true, but why are you asking me that?" Eren huffed. They got disturbed by a squirrel, leaping from a tree to a tree above their heads with loud chatter. Both of them laughed.
"You know, I just wanted to check in with you before I ask her out… possibly," Jean said, and his shoulders slumped.
"If you want to ask her out, ask her, you know," Eren said with a hiss. His vision got clouded with a wave of sudden anger. "I'm not her father, you idiot. What, are you asking me for permission, or what? That's like fucked up."
"I'm not asking for your permission, dickhead," Jean said through his teeth, sliding a hand over his hair. "Where did you get this idea from? I just know you were dating before, and I wouldn't like to get into the middle of something if you're are going to change your mind about it tomorrow."
Eren snorted in his mind. Like he was going to change tomorrow suddenly.
"You really like her, don't you?" he asked with a frown and a shrug of his shoulders.
A red color covering Jean's cheeks deepened, and a sudden smile creased his face.
"I do. I always have."
"Right," Eren said, uneasiness stirring his stomach, and he reached to grab Jean's shoulder awkwardly. "You know though she is older than us… and her life… she's just more adult and wise than you are."
"I know all that, asshole," said Jean and shrugged Eren's palm off his shoulder. "I don't even know why I thought talking to you was a good idea."
"Yeah, it wasn't…" Eren's palms clenched into fists, but a sudden shriek disturbed them.
"Turtles… Come here, guys." Connie excited voice resounded at the end of the path, where he was leaning over a rough wooden railing of a bridge hung over the small stream, pointing his hand towards rock formations sticking out of the pond, where several turtles crowded basking in the sun.
"This one…" he stretched out a beckoning hand towards one of the turtles. "This one looks like a total asshole. Let's name him Willy."
"Willy? What's that for a name?" Eren said with a frown when both he and Jean joined Connie at the bridge, positioning themselves on both of his sides, looking at the turtles.
Connie shrugged.
"This one is even better." He pointed at a small turtle with thin red marks at the back of its head, squinting its eyes and craning its neck towards the sun. "It's called a red-eared slider. And doesn't he remind you of anybody?" Connie's face lit with a mischievous grin, and he broke into a throaty laugh. "His name is definitely 'Levi.' Hey Historia…"
Jean and Eren exchanged glances with their eyebrows lifted.
"Dude, you would be so screwed if he overheard you…"
"Historia, can we catch this turtle and take it home?" Connie shouted with all the power of his throat. "He has this face… he will fit so well with us."
"Connie, you can't just catch animals in the park and take them home," said Historia with a tired sigh.
"Actually, these turtles, they are here because someone released them. They are considered an invasive species," Armin said, all knowledgeable and stoic. "It could be treated as a stray dog. You can take stray dogs home."
"It's a water turtle, smartass." Historia raked her fingers through Armin's hair with a laugh. "Even if… you would need to keep it in the water for many hours before we get home. Oh, but don't… I know you can figure out how to do it. Just leave that turtle be. Come on, we have to hurry."
Moblit accompanied Levi and Mikasa back to the elevators.
"Thanks for the meeting. It seems like a plan," said Levi, shaking Moblit's hand.
"Everything will be all right from now on." Moblit smiled and cupped Mikasa's elbow reassuringly. "I will let you know when we file the case, and I'll keep you updated. In fact, I'm also thinking about paying a weekend visit to the End. I haven't seen the beach… and Hange for quite a while. I could use some fresh air."
Levi and Mikasa exchanged a brief look. Was the handsome but serious lawyer blushing at the mention of Hange? Levi winked.
"That sounds like a great idea," he said. "We were trying to get Hange out of their clinic for a while now. And surprisingly, they agreed to dinner. We're going to have over another friend or two. What do you say, Mr. Berner? Wanna join us?"
"Moblit, and I'll be delighted." His face was lit by a sudden smile, and Mikasa and Levi exchanged amused looks again.
Blinking light and a bell ding announced the elevator's arrival.
"Thank you again, Moblit, for everything."
"It was a pleasure. By the way, I validated your parking for the entire day. Enjoy your afternoon."
Once back on the street, the heat of the summer, busy day of NYC midtown overwhelmed them. Sunlight reflected off the glassy windows of the skyscrapers, the sounds of multi-lane traffic, honking cars, and sirens mixed with the buzz of pedestrians passing them as Levi and Mikasa stood in front of the office building they had just walked out from.
"How do you feel, kid?" said Levi, his hand squeezing protectively Mikasa's arm and his eyes narrowed, bothered by the bright light.
"Not sure, just yet," she said, hiding her chin in the fabric of her eternal red scarf, and Levi couldn't stop his internal eyes from rolling on it.
"It will be all right. We got the best one out there for this kind of case, Mikasa. It will be over soon, and you'll decide what to do after that. You know, going to a college on the other side of the country will be an option, too—it'll be all on you to decide."
"I just... I haven't got used to the idea yet. Thank you for everything, you know, if it wasn't for you…"
"Oh, come on, it's a family thing… the only obvious thing to do," Levi grunted under his nose, the embarrassing emotions flooding his chest. "We need to go now. We are meeting the others for lunch. Aren't you getting hungry already?"
"Maybe, a little…" Mikasa sniggered.
"Great, let's walk. It's only a couple of blocks. If you want to grab something, like one of these overdone coffees from one the concessions stands on the way… help yourself…"
"Seriously?!" Mikasa chuckled. "Isn't it against all of your rules?"
"Isn't it fun to just break the rules sometimes?"
"Levi?"
"Come on, I'm suddenly craving one of these iced-coffee-caramel-whatever macchiato shit…"
Mikasa sniggered, and a faint smile lighted her dark eyes when she fell into step with him.
When Historia and the kids got to the carriages line at the West Drive, Mikasa sat at the small stony wall sipping an iced coffee from a see-through plastic cup. Levi was patting horses' snouts down the long line and chatting with the carriage drivers.
Historia and Isabel plopped close to Mikasa while the rest of the kids ran to Levi.
"Take it easy," he said, "you're going to scare them, slowly, Sasha. Connie, careful." Levi stroked a velvety muzzle for the last time and let Eren and Armin caress the black mare in front of them. "Go slowly, easy… Every horse is different. You have to find what she likes, earn her trust."
He showed them how to touch the horse and withdrew from the line, joining Historia, now comfortably settled on the wall.
"Are you still alive?" Levi asked Historia as she rested her head against his shoulder. "This must have been a fun morning."
"Yeah, they've been bearable," she said with a light, tired chuckle. "How did the meeting with the lawyer go?"
"Good. I've invited Moblit—the lawyer—for dinner with Hange and Ymir, so you'll get the chance to meet him. Very professional."
"Sounds good," she said, narrowing her eyes, and a glimmer of amusement lightened her gaze. "Is there something between this lawyer and Hange?"
"I honestly don't know yet. But it might be."
"Mmm… Levi playing a matchmaker," she chuckled. "That's new."
"Oh, come on," Levi grunted, embarrassed by her remark suddenly. "Have you all already decided if we go for one-dollar pizza or something else? I'm dying to get my fix of greasy fast food and eat it at the Sheep Meadow."
"Yes, pizza it is. Surprisingly, no discussion about that."
"Great," said Levi, rising to his feet. "There is a decent one-dollar pizza just around the corner. Hey, guys," he yelled, "let's move. We've got a pizza to grab!"
