A/N I would say this is long after end of season 1 in the anime, and DEFINITELY going into more manga territory. Due to spoilers, I won't be including too much detail from the wonderful manga of Isayama, just know that this takes place in the castle-ish area.
Also, prepare for some MAJOR fluff in this chapter. I recommend my favorite piece: "Spiegel im Spiegel" by Arvo Pärt.
To the guest who complained about Mikasa being referred to as "sister":
I did that on purpose, actually. You'll see it fades out as Eren's perception of her changes. Before his body reminded him they were not in fact related, he only saw her as a sibling. This chapter will be the last time he will refer to her as such, and even then it'll be different. Bear with me.
I do not own Attack on Titan/Shingeki No Kyojin. Let's get on with the show.
How many times had Mikasa Ackerman imagined this moment?
She had expected it to be clumsy, awkward, maybe a little too wet, but knew that however it were to happen, the results would be worth it.
The evening was rich in humidity, yet a drop of rain had yet to fall. Green flourished around them in luscious clumps of life, leading many of the squad members to stroll bare footed in their day clothes-Mikasa included. Everyone in the perimeter was in a joyful spirit, allowing themselves to relax for a change. So caught up in their own fantasies and laughter, no one noticed the quiet exchange underneath the pine trees to the west of the castle.
Mikasa Ackerman-humanity's strongest, the stone faced girl, woman of a thousand kills-found all sense of bravery and apathy drain from her expression as a face of complete unadulterated shock took its place. She hadn't even found the prudence to blush, so taken by surprise she was.
He seemed red enough to suffice for the both of them, green eyes glancing back at her impatiently, yet shyly. He had taken a step back after his sudden romantic gesture, respiring heavily through his nose, betraying his racing heart. Eren was responsible for the deaths of so many; being a trained, passionate soldier, and humanity's last hope; but he stood there blushing like a child as his adoptive sister, (Sibling no longer, he hoped) stared at him with a thousand questions buzzing in her dark irises, pink lips glistening slightly from his own mouth's brief, awkward caress.
She breathed his name once, closing her eyes, and that was when her own flush spread throughout her entire body. It crawled from her neck up to her hairline; spreading its heat to the tips of her ears. She licked her lips once, trying to find any sort of taste left on them, and was disappointed when her tongue detected no sensation of Eren's having been there.
Eren was mumbling nonsense, tripping over his words in an effort to defend himself. His voice was shaking audibly. Through her fog of confusion, Mikasa heard enough of Eren's rambling to register that he was apologizing. Eren Jaeger never apologized, and now he was saying sorry for kissing her, of all things!
The young cadet had never thought herself particularly brave, despite the admiration of her comrades and superiors. Bravery had always meant ignoring fear in the face of danger, and she simply felt no fear. Facing monsters with gnashing teeth and stupid eyes did not quiver her soul in its being, no, their presence was not enough to send her gut churning.
When her loved ones were in danger- that was enough to start the process of trepidation in her blood; but it was never enough to hinder her abilities. She would use the uneasiness to fuel her prowess, taking the wind in the sky and the gas in her tank to carry her family to safety.
Somehow, speaking frankly with the young titan shifter induced a bone quaking, finger tingling anxiety that she simply had no stomach for. It was an interference to her constantly preoccupied mind; trying to sort out her opinions and voice her emotions past what was necessary for Eren's survival.
Yet, his little act of bravery had been enough to spark something in her she had grown very tired of ignoring.
"Do it again." Mikasa whispered, eyes still closed.
Eren stopped his disjointed speech abruptly, looking at the young woman with surprise. She appeared so fervent, yet so closed; her face smooth of any expression. He couldn't even look at her onyx eyes; they were shut to him.
"Huh?"
"Do that again, Eren." She repeated.
Do what, kiss you? He almost retorted in his usual witless fashion, but her eyes opened and in that moment, he saw a flash of lightning in their darkness he had never bothered to see before.
The first time he had placed a kiss on Mikasa's mouth, he had barely been thinking, rushing to fill the space before he lost his nerve. Now, the both of them had the time to feel every shock, hear every noise, as the gap was closed once again.
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"Why then?" She asked him, wind tossing back her hair. The dark tresses had begun to grow back; stretching past her chin and tickling at the nape of her neck. She played with the ends of it, running her fingertips across it like one would a paintbrush. The pair still sat in the spot where Eren had pressed that first tentative kiss on her mouth, though the night had gone dark around them and almost everyone had retired to their respective rooms.
Eren shifted in his spot for a minute before finally responding. "I heard Jean talking 'bout how he had finally 'made a move' with you."
Though the idea had crossed Mikasa's mind, this was the last thing she had expected to actually come out of Eren's mouth.
And it was true. A few days prior, Jean Kirchstein had decided he too had had enough of hopeless glances and pink cheeks. After a mishap with a stuttering Kirchstein in the midst of training, Mikasa and the gangly boy had been assigned by the corporal to scrub out the back room. Despite the punishment, Jean was over the moon that'd he'd have even more time to find his words with the object of his infatuations. Mikasa had promised she did not mind that she had to do a little extra work, and the room they were to be cleaning was almost always void of people.
It provided the perfect opportunity for an onslaught of adolescent affections.
While they futiley scrubbed at stained tile, Jean had begun a sort of metaphor having to do with a crow who fell in love with a raven, while the raven was busy preparing a nest for its friend who had already found its freedom past the walls. None of it made any sense to Mikasa, but she quietly listened while Jean stuttered through the story. He gained confidence as he spoke, as if he had rehearsed this multiple times and thought the final performance was going quite well.
When the young man concluded the story, he looked at her expectantly with anticipation in his deep set eyes. By now Mikasa was totally lost, and she simply blinked at him in hopes he would elaborate.
With a loud groan followed by a resigned sigh, Jean picked up his scrubbing brush once more and set to work on the tile; quite viciously, she noted. After a paused moment of confusion, Mikasa slowly joined him in attempting the almost impossible chore.
After another hour of back breaking labor, Mikasa spoke up in the quiet voice of hers:
"I walked in on the Corporal and Miss Petra kissing in here."
Jean looked at her from the corner of his eye before resuming washing his brush in the soapy bucket of water. "Really?"
"Yeah, he's a horrible man, but she seemed to be enjoying his company. I don't get it." Mikasa's nose was wrinkling at the memory.
"It was no secret that she had a thing for him." Jean mumbled.
After a few more beats of silence, Jean found a suave, almost-uninterested tone he did not know he was capable of using with her.
"You ever been kissed, Mikasa?"
The question set off a little pang she preferred to imagine had to do with the horrible memory of Captain Levi.
"No." She answered quietly.
"Can I kiss you?"
She halted all actions, staring at him head on like a raccoon caught in the lamplight. Her eyes were so wide he could see his reflection in them, and was pleased to discover his expression was almost indifferent.
"Why?" She asked quietly, though of course she knew the answer. While she pretended to be completely oblivious to the forlorn look in his eyes as she trained, she was not stupid. It would take a blind man not to detect the yearning in Jean's expression, and even then, they would hear the nervous tremor in the young man's voice when attempting conversation with the interracial beauty.
Jean didn't respond, instead staring down at the floor again before raising to meet Mikasa's gaze with pink cheeks that matched her own.
When the taller boy leaned forward-hands repositioning themselves on the slick floor in order to balance himself-Mikasa considered turning away. She had never harbored affections beyond friendship for her comrade, at least that she knew of. Her eyes were always preoccupied with the uncontrollable drowning in vicious green pools that tore and gripped so tightly she could hardly breathe when their possessor was in the room.
Yet, a foreign sensation was creeping through her veins as Jean Kirchstein tentatively rested his lips atop of her own. Despite the nervous butterflies that came from allowing such affection, there was a tingling mixed with yearning that was churning in the tempest of her gut. Perhaps it was lust or excitement, but a particularly strong flavor was melting on the tip of her tongue as Jean slowly pulled away.
Being wanted.
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A/N
…I honestly wasn't expecting to make it so heavy with Jeankasa. I don't even ship them. But the words kind of took off on their own, and I'm tempted to make another fic where that pairing canons more. Give me some feedback on that idea. However, this particular story will remain Eremika, no worries.
I love love LOVE all you reviewers. You made me feel amazing, each and every one of you. Thanks to all the followers and favoriters (Is that even a word…?) as well.