"Mikasa!"
Jean fell to the ground, grasping his stomach and choking on air. Blood and saliva dribbled from his lips, which were split open from a less recent blow the Ackerman had landed on him.
"Goddamn…" He coughed, wiping his face, and stumbling to his feet, his adversary standing above him, arms cross over her chest as she patiently waited for him to recover. "You really take these training sessions seriously, don't you?"
"'Practice like I play," she replied, grey eyes looking him up and down as he reassumed a ready stance. "You could learn something from that."
"Maybe I just don't like hitting girls," He snickered, narrowly dodging to the left as she came at him once again.
"Chivalry isn't the problem," she quipped, sucking in air before landing a solid kick on his right shoulder, following with a left fist to the jaw. "You just can't keep up," she finished, as he toppled once again, gravel biting into his flesh as he made impact.
Spitting into the dirt, Jean stood once again, clutching his jaw as it throbbed violently before raising his hands in surrender.
"I give up." He winced, his lip swelling slightly.
"You did better than last week," Mikasa dropped her hands to her sides, falling into step beside him before she added an extra jab. "And the week before that."
"You kidding me?" Jean laughed, "I've always been a good fighter! Kicked Eren's ass a few times remember as cadets? It's just hot as hell out here, and you're an Ackerman for goodness' sake."
"Uh huh…" Mikasa nodded, her gaze dropping with the mention of Eren's name. Before Jean could apologize, a slight smile returned, as she pointed towards Sasha and Conny, who were entering the barrack's courtyard.
"I guess a few things haven't changed since we were cadets," She commented.
Struggling through the final leg of their three-mile warmup, Sasha clutched her stomach in agony, tears streaming down her cheeks.
"I shouldn't have eaten so much for lunch!"
Conny ten paces in front of her, screamed at the top of his lungs, glancing back to make sure she was still following.
"C'mon, just a little more!"
"I don't think I can do it!" The brunette wailed, her pace slowing.
Jean nudged Mikasa in the shoulder, nodding towards their friends with a glint in his eye. "Watch this." Cupping his hands around his mouth, Jean called towards the pair. "God! is that Commander Shadis?"
Sasha's eyes immediately widened, and she bolted, not daring to look behind her.
Feet flying, she soared past Conny and eventually Jean and Mikasa, who were approaching the barracks. She made it, in record time, but didn't stop. Throwing open the doors, she raced inside with a panicked cry of terror echoing behind her.
Mikasa laughed softly. "You'd think by now she wouldn't be so afraid of him."
"It's like you said," Jean smiled at the sound of her rare laughter. "Some things never change."
"Jean," Conny panted, jogging a few more paces before stopping and putting his hands on his knees, drinking in oxygen with rapid and obnoxiously loud breaths. "Jean—You…you really need to stop doing that…" he coughed, finally choking the words out.
"She finished the warmup, didn't she?" Tossing his hands in the air, he shrugged. "I'd say that was a huge success, wouldn't you, Mikasa?"
"Hmm," Mikasa chose not to respond, waving her hand in a scant farewell as she opened the door and entered the barracks, heading down the corridor towards her room. "See you guys in the mess hall."
"See you, Mikasa," Conny wheezed.
"Bye, Ackerman." Jean said, slapping his friend obnoxiously on the back and shoving him forwards.
"OWWWW! What was that for?"
"It was for you to get a move on and get your smelly ass in the shower."
Muddled shouts and curses followed Mikasa as they went their separate ways. Their antics causing a hint of a smile to tip the corners of her mouth before she turned the corner and out of earshot.
The grin immediately disappeared as Mikasa entered her room, noticing her scarf folded reverently next to her uniform. A twinge of guilt caught her breath in her chest as she reached to clasp the familiar knitted fabric of the garment. Clutching the red wool close to her face she fought rolling waves of emotion, and an all too familiar throbbing ache in her head.
"Eren," She whispered. "Where the hell are you?"
Later, In the Mess Hall:
"Sasha," Conny grimaced as the girl shoved food into her face more rapidly than usual. "'Food ain't going anywhere."
Growling, the girl gulped down her last bite before replying. "You don't know that," she answered, spitefully devouring half her dinner roll with one bite.
"Here, Sasha," Jean placed his roll on his friend's plate, "That's for pranking you earlier."
Snatching the roll just as soon as Jean had given it to her, Sasha smashed the bread so that it became more compact and gobbled the whole thing at once. Scarcely allowing a moment to breathe, she swallowed it as though it were air, and continued her rampage without a word.
"I guess it's that kind of night," Jean said, wincing as he watched the girl slosh down a gulp of water. "She just did the Sasha Smash, and she doesn't do that unless she's ravenous."
"This is your fault," Conny said, mid chew, glaring at Jean. "She ran faster than I've ever seen her run today. You pushed her to the brink."
"At least we know her potential," Armin shrugged, sipping typical water-based, vegetable stew from his edge of his spoon carefully, ensuring it was the perfect temperature.
"You mean how fast she can run, or how fast she can eat?" Jean chuckled.
Mikasa watched in silence over the edge of her scarf, which was pulled up to cover the tip of her nose. For some reason, Sasha's typically amusing antics were not remotely entertaining to her this evening, not with the dull ache throbbing in her temples, like it had every evening for the past weeks.
Armin nudged her arm, looking at her, then at her untouched gruel with a silent question of her wellbeing.
She didn't respond, shaking her head before the two were suddenly distracted as Sasha choked on her last hunk of bread and spit it into Conny's face.
"Now you've done it," Springer's face turned beet red as he slammed his spoon on the table and stood to his feet. "I told you to stop eating so fast, now look what you did! I just showered!"
Sputtering, Sasha held her chest as she tried to manage a stuttered apology between a gag reflex.
"I-I'm—"
"You're gonna be sorry!" Conny threatened before Jean yanked his arm downwards, thrusting the shorter boy into his chair before he had a chance to swing.
"Sit down and shut up, it was an accident." Jean muttered. "Just clean your face and eat your food."
"But—"
"Do what he said." Mikasa commanded, the glare in her eyes leaving no room for argument.
Smearing the bready bits of Sasha's saliva onto the sleeve of his Scouts jacket, Conny hunkered down and continued to eat. Slowly putting his spoon in his mouth as he watched Sasha, suppressed anger brimming in his hazel eyes.
"Mikasa," Armin whispered softly, "You should eat too."
"My head hurts," She replied, "I don't feel like eating."
"You sick?" Jean inquired, lifting an eyebrow as he raised a heaping spoonful of soup to his mouth, which was still slightly swollen from their combat training earlier.
Armin shook his head at Jean before offering her his roll with an understanding look in his eye. She declined, raising a hand and motioning he keep his own food.
"Then eat," he said, gesturing towards her soup. "Its halfway decent tonight. I think the Marleyan cooks added something extra."
"Poison maybe." Jean scoffed before shoving in another bite. "But, by all means," he continued, swallowing. "Eat. You need to keep up your strength."
Armin nodded hesitantly, but in agreement with his friend's latter statement.
"Fine," she sighed, pulling the scarf from her mouth and taking a bite of her roll.
Looking intently into the bowl of grey-toned stew, she tried to concentrate on the bland taste of the bread instead of the pain in her head, with little avail. Chewing added extra pressure to her temples, increasing the pain with each forced bite, but she finished the roll to ease Armin's concern, and managed a few reluctant bites of the gruel before she plinked her spoon down with an exasperated sigh.
"I'm done." Wiping her face clean and pulling the scarf up once more, she tossed a cold look at both Jean and Armin, assuring them she could not be convinced to eat any more.
"That's better than last night." Jean nodded towards her plate, adding a reminiscent sting with a sly smile. "And the night before that."
Mikasa caught the quip but wasn't in the mood. Standing, she nodded to her friends, and softly wished them a good night before grabbing her plate and making her way towards the dishwashing station for the new recruits to clean.
"Wait up, Mikasa."
Armin fell into step with her, brushing newly cut hair from his eyes.
"I need to talk to you."
"What about?" She replied before whispering a thanks to the recruit who took her tray dutifully out of her hands.
"Hange came and spoke with me today," the intuitive blonde began.
"About?"
"She asked if Eren had contacted either of us, personally, under a different name."
"Wouldn't she know if he did," Mikasa mumbled. "They comb through any and all correspondence between Scouts and outside parties."
Passing out of the mess hall and into one of the large corridors of the barracks, the pair of friends sidestepped a group of eager recruits and made their way to the end of the hall, stopping in front of a large window to continue their conversation out of common earshot.
"I told her that he hasn't written anything to us, but Mikasa, do you remember the name Kruger?"
"It sounds vaguely familiar."
Armin nodded, pressing his lips into a thin line before he continued. "Eren Kruger is the man who possessed the Attack Titan before Eren's father."
"I remember now," Mikasa said, wishing he'd get to the point. "Did she ask you anything else?"
"Hange told me not to tell anyone," He replied, cautiously scanning the hallway before continuing. "But you need to know—"
"Spit it out, Armin."
"—Levi received a detailed letter from a man named Kruger. It arrived this morning, on a foreign ship."
A lump formed in Mikasa's throat. Pulling her scarf closer around her neck, she tried to ignore the pounding in her head as she chose her next words.
"What did it say?"
"They didn't let me see it." Armin's gaze dropped. "They only wanted me to confirm it wasn't a trap."
"Well then, where is the ship?" Mikasa straightened, ready to move at his next direction, but her friend shook his head.
"The military held the ship most of the afternoon, until the captain demanded to see the highest-ranking officer and said that if we did not release his vessel, we would lose our greatest weapon."
"What?" She stuttered. "You mean it's gone now?"
"Yes, but don't you get what this means, Mikasa?" Armin took her by the arm, almost unable to contain his excitement. "Eren's alive, and he's about to do something big. This means something is going to happen."
Mikasa shook Armin's hand off, turning to glare out of smoky glass. "We could have boarded the ship and brought him home. Why the hell did they just let the ship go?"
"Hange didn't say directly, but I think Eren is using the Founder against them." He mumbled. "Whatever the captain said about 'losing our greatest weapon', it meant something."
"It means jack shit." Stomping past her friend, she went her own way, changing her original course from her room to the brass' headquarters. She would give them a piece of her mind.
"Mikasa!" Armin, grabbed her sleeve, slowing her pace and redirecting her from her warpath. "Would you just think about this, please? Hange and Levi can't do whatever Eren asks without us. You have to wait until they choose to bring us in. Until then, we just have to wait and trust Eren."
Mikasa shook Armin off once again and made her way to the dorms, a single tear trailing down her cheek as a dull headache turned into a throbbing migraine.
"That's the only thing I've ever done."