The first day of kindergarten for her son is hot; Mikasa can feel herself beginning to perspire despite the fact that she's in a pencil skirt and a loose blouse for work later. Jean's arm is loosely wrapped around her waist and he's smiling as his other hand holds their child's, guiding him towards his new classroom and his new second-grade teacher. Neither she nor Jean has met him yet, are only aware that his last name is Arlert and that he's supposedly very kind with the children.
"I'm glad," Jean says in an excited whisper intended only for her ears, "that we could both go in late to work today to walk him to class."
"I wasn't sure I could get any time off," she subtly apologizes. "It's been hectic lately…" As a local defense attorney, her work often followed her home, invading her nighttime dreams and daytime actions, seeping into all personal and private parts of her life.
She's twenty-seven and Jean has recently turned twenty-nine; they've been married a little over a year, their son having just turned five over summer in June. His appearance mimics hers, his dark hair framing a circular face with eyes that often seem far too lost for such a small face. But she sees Jean in his personality more so than hers, particularly in his quick temper to lose patience with things he finds disagreeable.
She adores him more than anyone, truly, and as they approach the classroom Jean's hand lessons on hers and he kneels down by their son, whispering in his ear words of comfort she cannot hear. Her son smiles and leans in to kiss Jean's cheek before he turns and reaches for her, arms open wide.
She resists the urge to embarrass him with a thousand kisses, instead hugging him tightly as she says, "I love you. We'll be here to pick you up as soon as school is over, okay?"
He seems confident and nonplussed; she almost wishes he would show an ounce of fear but then again, she reminds herself, he seems to hold parts of her in him as well, laced between Jean's hot temper. The confidence, she believes, must've certainly come from her side of the family.
"I'm going to talk to him alone near the class for a second, if that's okay?" Jean says in a way that seems almost sheepish.
"Talk between two men?" she teases, stepping back as her son takes her husbands hand.
"Fatherly advice."
"Don't make him late, school starts in less than ten minutes." It's not until she's waved Jean off that she hears a cry behind her—loud, sharp, and familiar in the way that she's accustomed to with a small child of her own.
"Oh, you fell again," she hears a man say, a sigh creeping in between his words. "It's okay, I'll help you up."
She turns, a knowing 'it happens to all parents' smile plastered on her face. Behind her, she's meet with the scene of a peculiar looking man on his knees, glasses perched on his nose, with a small, wailing child sitting on the concrete in front of him.
"Mommy," he says, pushing the man's hands away from his. "I want mommy."
"Oh, why isn't Carla ever around when I need her…" The man straightens his back up and says, in a way clearly meant to be comforting, "You'll see mommy today after school. She'll come pick you up with me. I promise."
"But I want her now!" The child's wailing has begun to grow louder, attracting the attention of other nearby parents and children. Students who had previously looked excited appear to grow instantly anxious, clinging to parents' legs and arms at the sight of another classmate so visibly upset.
Mikasa turns, looking for Jean and her son, only to find them both still near his teachers door; her son hasn't even turned his head to the crying child as far as she can tell and, for that, she's relieved.
"Sir?" She steps forward with hesitance. "Do you mind if I…try?"
The man looks at her, sweat lacing his forehead and prickling at the collar of his button-up shirt. He assesses her—looking at her work attire, she assumes—before standing up to introduce himself.
"Grisha….Grisha Yeager," he says. "This is my son, Eren. My wife couldn't make it today and I got sent instead…"
"It happens. My son is in the same class as him," she replies, attempting to smile sincerely; she's far too used to plastering on fake ones for other litigators and has to force a genuine one for the sake of appearing friendly. (She reminds herself that she's doing this for the benefit of the other children who are progressively looking more upset by the loud, disrupting child in front of her.)
She kneels a moment later, awkwardly balancing on the heels of her shoes, which now seem inappropriately high for the situation, and says, in as nice a voice as she can muster, "Hi, are you Eren?"
The silence from the child is near deafening and she doesn't miss the way his eyes flick upwards, immediately for his fathers. Silence, Mikasa decides, is encouraging, and far better than the screaming that has been going on for almost five minutes.
"You miss your mommy, right?" she asks, though her smile this time is warm and familiar, as if talking to her own child. "I know it's hard without your mommy and she misses you too, I'm sure. But the day will go fast and you can go home to her soon after, okay?"
When Eren finally lifts his head to meet her eyes, the green ones that find her own startle her; there's an odd sense in her that she's seen them before, though she knows it to be impossible for she's never met either of these two people in her life.
"Are you a mommy?" Eren asks, sniffling quietly. "Like mine?"
"I am a mommy," she says, shifting her weight a little to the other side. "My son is in your class, too. Maybe you can play together today, he doesn't know anyone yet."
"He'll play with me?" Eren seems skeptical and she thinks, briefly, if he continues this way in life, he might make a great attorney one day.
She nods her head reassuringly, standing up and straightening her skirt before saying, "You'll be great friends, I'm sure. But first you have to introduce yourself. Do you see the man talking to the boy by the door? That's my husband and my son. Maybe you and your dad can go say hello."
Eren, still staring with blatant skepticism, stands and reaches for his father's hand. Grisha appears relieved and excited at once as he says, "I think that's a great idea!"
Mikasa, relieved that at another crisis has been averted, breathes a sigh of relief as the pair walk away. She doesn't think twice to wave when Grisha turns back to her before leaving and says, "Thank you, Mikasa."
It's all in a days work, she figures, and she's dealt with far worse. When Jean returns she tells him the story and listens to how Grisha approached them, how Eren and her son seemed to click and picked spots next to each other inside the class. It isn't until later, when she's wrapped in Jean's arms in bed for an afternoon rendezvous, that she realizes she never told Grisha her name.