Disclaimer: I don't own SnK
The next few weeks passed by in the same fashion. She'd go to classes, then go to the café, and when it was over she'd walk home with Rivaille, who had taken to studying in the café until a few minutes before 11, and would wait around outside for her for them to walk home together.
On the second day, he'd told her to follow him instead, bringing her along a route that was paved out the whole way with concrete. It was just as quick as the one she had taken, but was "more civilised", in Rivaille's words. She'd rolled her eyes and grumbled, but since then they'd taken that path back to the dorms, occasionally talking about classes but spending most of the walks in a companionable silence.
On a warm March night though, before she left, Reiner beckoned her over to the counter.
"Hey, I'm really sorry to spring this on you, but I've got to leave earlier tomorrow for a group project, then I've got to study for this really big test coming up. Do you mind taking over all the shifts for me from four onwards? I've told Bert and Marco to lock up by eleven thirty, and you can study out here at the counter if you want if it's not too busy," he told her, with a pleading look on his face.
"Sure," she said, shrugging.
"Thanks so much!" His face cleared immediately, and he grinned at her. "I knew there was a reason why I let you go at eleven every night,"
"You mean other than the fact that my dorm has a curfew and yours doesn't?" She arched an eyebrow.
"Apart from that, obviously,"
"Well, I'll see you tomorrow," she told him, waving at him before leaving the café.
As she started out on the now familiar path, Rivaille pulled himself off the wall he was lounging upon and joined her.
"I have to stay back til eleven thirty tomorrow because Reiner's leaving early," she told him. "I'm locking up with Bert and Marco, so you don't have to stay back to walk me home,"
"Hmm," he said non-committedly. Then, "Did you know that most of the stars you see from here are actually dead?"
"What?"
"Kind of poetic, don't you think?"
"What?"
Rivaille arched an eyebrow at her and shot her a darkly amused glance. She flushed slightly, but straightened her spine, looking down at him in an almost challenging manner. She noted, again, that he was slightly shorter than she was, and dimly wondered at how he still managed to sound so condescending when speaking to others at the same time.
He seemed unperturbed by her looking down on him. "That they shine so brightly but you can only see them from afar; that how something so vibrant and alive could be so... dead,"
"The light from the stars are legacies they leave behind," Mikasa returned. "They continue to shine to leave hope for those who still look at them years later. And when they eventually fade, they do it so gradually that no one really realises—and that's the beauty of it, because they're such a strong beacon of hope, and they only slip away when no one really needs it anymore,"
They did this sometimes; when one of them came across an interesting fact, they'd bring it up and one person would look at it from a negative point of view, while the other would argue in its favour. More often than not, Rivaille took the negative point of view, leaving Mikasa to stand staunch in her belief for these things.
"But the stars—they're really dead?" She asked after a few minutes of silence.
"Mmm. You can still see them because of the light takes to travel to our little pocket of the earth. Isn't it great? All that beauty and waxed lyrics all reduced down to a line of science."
"But not all of them, right?" She pressed.
"No," he agreed simply, and they walked on.
The next day passed in the same uneventful way the previous day had, and Mikasa was hoping that it would establish a pattern that would hopefully go on indefinitely. Her classes passed by smoothly, Eren didn't blow up any more science labs, and when Reiner left the café at four in the afternoon, only Rivaille was sitting in the café, slowly sipping on his green tea and occasionally eating his shortbread. She sat by the counter and picked through her notes, leafing her way through several texts at a time
Eleven o'clock came and went, and for the first time she settled Rivaille's bill. Unsurprisingly, he didn't give off any impressions that they knew each other; his expression remained unchanged throughout the entire exchange, and the tip left behind was a prudent amount—the same amount that he always left behind for Reiner as well. His only acknowledgement of her was a slight inclination of his head before the doors of the café swung shut behind him.
She set about wiping the tables down, and had just finished when Bert and Marco emerged from the kitchen doors.
"Ready to go?"
"Sure," she agreed, grabbing her bag and following them out, hitting the lights just before stepping out and allowing the doors to close on her. She and Bert stood around, watching Marco kneel down on the concrete and try to match the key to the lock.
"This is Reiner's job, damn it," he mumbled, shifting uncomfortably on the ground as he tried every single key on the overloaded keychain.
"Mikasa, do you want to maybe go first? In case you miss curfew," Bert said, trying not to laugh at Marco's frustration.
"Alright, thanks," she shrugged. "Thanks. I'll see you all tomorrow! Marco, take it easy, or you might break the lock," she added, nudging him with the toe of her sneaker.
Just as she started to walk off on the path, Rivaille's figure slowly unfurled itself from where he had been leaning against the wall.
"Don't do that," she hissed at him, trying not to draw attention to them. "I thought I told you that I was locking up today?"
"You did," he replied easily. "But your dorm is on the way."
Next to him, Mikasa let out a huff and tried to ignore Bert's hasty nudging of Marco, and his stage whispers of "Is that—is that Rivaille? With Mikasa?" and their various mumblings of disbelief.
She tried to walk faster then, to escape the scrutiny as quickly as possible, but her arm was caught by Rivaille's hand—a hand which was warmer than she thought it would be.
"Don't walk so fast," he said, before adding very reluctantly: "You know my legs are shorter than yours,"
Her eyes widened at that—partly out of amusement and partly out of despair, but she slowed down to their normal brisk pace, and walked off into the night, leaving Marco and Bert speechless behind them.