Present day
"Truth is, I don't really know yet. I've been in the Survey Corps long enough that it's hard to picture myself anywhere else. But if I give it some more thought, I might request to be transferred to the MPs. I was serious about working my way up and making some drastic changes once I hold a leadership position."
After Jean finished, Connie quipped, "But that would mean leaving Mikasa, man. Or is it Historia, now? Jean and the Queen—got a nice ring to it."
"Hey, knock it off Connie! Not cool at all."
Despite Jean's protests, it was too late. The side comment elicited some sniggers around the campfire, and even the usually stoic Mikasa managed a small smile.
"Alright Jean, have it your way. Anyway, whose turn is it? Mine? Easy, I'll be the next Levi Ackerman so the guy can finally retire. Next?"
It was gone as quickly as it surfaced, but Armin noticed the flash of melancholy in Connie's eyes. Beneath the gloss of his casual countenance, losing his village left its mark on him—it was clear he did not wish to dampen everyone's spirits with his pain. Deprived of the choice to return home like most of them were, Armin surmised friends in the Corps was all Connie had left.
Sasha, one of the luckier ones among them, spoke up next, "I miss home, so I think I'll take some R&R for a while. From there, I'll figure out my next move. While we're talking about it, I'm requiring all of you to stop by, preferably all together. Venison, boar meat, baked potatoes—there's more than enough for everyone! So you guys better come. No excuses."
If we are all still alive by then, no one in particular said. Yet in some form or another in varying degrees, it was all in their minds.
The huntress talked more about her younger years before she joined the military: the long afternoons painstakingly searching for prey; picking delicious, non-poisonous berries; effectively utilizing their two hunting hounds. It astounded most of them to learn that Sasha started doing all that at the tender age of five, under her father's tutelage of course. Lest her story overstays its welcome, she soon gave the floor to Armin, who happily obliged.
"Well, my job already lets me do what I love—see the world. With Titans out of the equation, I think we'll finally be able to survey these lands just fine. Think of all the discoveries we could make in uncharted territory—probably enough to fill a dozen books in our lifetime."
Connie snapped his fingers, "I've got it! If you discover any new species of wild horses, let's name it after Jean. Jeanohorsus horsfacus. That's one for the books, literally."
"Careful, Springer. You just might wake up with horse dung on your face tomorrow," replied Jean.
The blond reasserted himself before things could get out of hand, "I'm not sure about any wild horses, but I'll keep that in mind. With Jean's consent of course. Anyways, before the hour gets late, I think it's Eren's..."
He craned his head around the camp for his friend, but the Titan shifter was nowhere to be found, "... turn. I could've sworn he was just here a moment ago. Has anyone noticed him leave?"
"Probably just wanted some time alone," Mikasa surmised, getting up on her feet, "At any rate, I'll look for him, just to see how he's doing. He's been... aloof lately. I'll see you guys later."
Leaving the others talking about Eren's behavior the past couple of days, Mikasa set out to look for the boy. He was not in the camp nor in his tent, that much was clear. Even with only moonlight and its reflection on the sea to illuminate her surroundings, it did not take her too long to find him. On the far side of the beach by a slender tree, Eren was sparring on a hanging sack, a makeshift punching bag if you will.
She began, "Eren? Is everything okay? Why are you out here?"
He turned around to face her, wiping sweat off his brow with his sleeve, "Hey. Everything's fine. Just needed some air. Didn't mean to worry you guys or anything."
The low visibility made it difficult for her to read his face, but she didn't miss the downcast tone in his voice, "I won't pry if you don't want to, but you can tell me if there's anything troubling you. To be honest, I've felt that these past few days—as if you grew more distant from us as time went on."
He took both her hands in his, catching her by surprise. The Titan shifter often was not one to hold her like this, especially in the past couple of years when childhood was replaced by adulthood that came far too early. They undoubtedly shared a strong bond, but Eren just was not the type to casually stroke her hair, kiss her forehead, hold her hand, or even embrace her—things she all yearned for from him nonetheless. It was quite the other way around; she was the one to often reach out to him, and even then he would often dismiss her, evidently flustered by the way she coddled him. So what was it that brought about this change in him?
She hoped the moonlight did not reveal the rosy tint quickly coloring her cheeks.
"I'm fine, okay? While taking in the breeze, I decided to do something useful with that bag of hay back there. All that talk of the future had me thinking of the battles ahead. Reiner's still out there, and heaven knows what other abominations. I wanna be prepared for them, and make sure I land the right combinations. We saw how relying solely on brute force wasn't a good idea in the past."
"Mhm. It used to get someone dear to me kidnapped every other day and twice on Sunday."
A cackle escaped him despite the memories that resurfaced, "Whoa, easy with the truth there. It hurts."
She moved her hands to his shoulders, "That's not all. Want to hear another?"
"Not sure if I do, but I know you'll tell me anyway," said the Titan shifter as casually as he could manage, hoping she didn't notice his heart hammering wildly in his chest.
She leaned closer, their faces almost touching, "You have terrible footwork."
He immediately broke away from her and playfully slapped her shoulder, "And I suppose you could do better, Mikasa Ackerman?"
She replied matter-of-factly, her voice devoid of any arrogant undertone, "When you were sparring, I could recognize most of Annie's techniques. I beat Annie."
"Then enlighten me, sensei," the challenge already evident in Eren's tone, "How do I incapacitate an aggressive sack of hay dreadfully hanging from a branch? Care to demonstrate?"
Without a moment's hesitation, Mikasa gave the sack a solid lateral kick from where she stood, followed by a mean straight, closing the distance between her and the target. What came next was almost too fast for Eren's eyes to track—a flurry of elbow strikes, crosses, and knee strikes making mincemeat of the unfortunate sack. As she fought, the Titan shifter began to understand what Mikasa told him. As she generously dished out her barrage of strikes, she was also constantly moving around. She would land three or four hits (the darkness and her sheer speed made it hard to tell) in quick succession, and then sidestep. Her attack patterns were also erratic, making it difficult to predict her next move and counterattack.
She ended the "demonstration" with a powerful hook that would have easily dislocated the average man's jaw. Speaking of jaws, his fell to the floor as she walked up to him. She did not even sweat that much after the thrashing.
"Well, how did I do?"
He cleared his throat before replying, "You were ama—I mean—I thought you did an amazing job."
She pretended not to notice the slip up, turning her head to face the ocean, "It's not that complicated, really. You just have to keep moving and protecting yourself from the opponent. But remember, with stationary training dummies, we can only practice striking and not grappling. You need a partner for the latter."
"If you put it that way, can you teach me that tomorrow then? I could really use your help. You know, might even the odds in future engagements."
Her eyes widened at that. Indeed, something had definitely changed in him. First there was the aloofness, and now there's the open willingness to accept her aid. In the past, he would never spar with her, let alone be the one to ask for help. There was something in his mind, but knowing him, he would not tell her right away even if she asked. He would tell her when he is ready, and that could take a while.
She stared back into his green eyes, and was rewarded with the sight of his rare smile, "If you don't feel like tucking in yet, we can start with the basics now. Don't worry, I won't knock you to the ground unless you give me a reason to. Reckon you wouldn't sleep tight with sand all over you."
His smile wavered, "What about you? You might want to sleep already. Just noticed that the camp is pretty quiet by now. They're all probably fast asleep by now save the one on first watch."
"No no, it's okay," she replied a little more adamantly than she intended, "Since you brought it up, we can begin now if you want. Let's just try not to stay up too late lest we sleep in tomorrow."
He hesitated for moment, but then made up his mind, "Alright then. Show me how it's done."
She did not lunge at him the way she went after the now tattered sack, and for that he was secretly grateful. Taking baby steps together, they practiced close quarters combat and grappling techniques she thought would be useful against Titans. Eren could be quite stubborn, but he also picked up relatively fast. The three techniques she showed him that night were executed solidly after only a few attempts.
"It's nearly midnight, so I think that's all we can cover for now," she stifled a yawn, unaccustomed to staying up this late, "Just remember that training can't perfectly simulate real combat. Your opponents won't react same way I do, and their techniques will certainly differ. So, you might find it expedient to roll with your instinct. I can give you tools, but it's up to you how to use them. Seize the opportunities as they present themselves; in dynamic engagements, they'll be gone before you know it."
"Not just in dynamic engagements, I learned."
"Okay. Your point being?" The uncertainty in her voice was palpable.
He did not answer her, not at that moment at least. Seemingly of their own accord, his hands drifted towards her, one tentatively found her waist while the other glided across raven locks, pulling her closer. He felt her body conspicuously tense at the foreign touch, and he understood why. He was slowly unraveling a part of him that he never before permitted her to see, lying dormant beneath the mantle of rage and vengeance which sustained him for so long. When he meditated on the inescapable fact that his days were numbered (and practically everyone else's due to the nature of their occupation, even without Ymir's Curse), it gave him something else to focus on besides the singleminded desire to wipe out the enemy. He searched elsewhere, and found joy simply in what is. His friends were still alive; vanquishing the Titans was more of a reality now than a distant fantasy; new technologies unearthed from the damned basement afforded humanity a little more protection from the enemy.
And there was her.
The girl he saved years ago was now the woman that saved his skin more times than he could count. For too long and far too frequently did he shun her, failing to recognize the true meaning underneath her overprotectiveness of him. To the one who thanked him for a shot at a second life, the one to whom he promised his always, it was never about merely repaying a debt.
She loves you, and that's what makes the hellish existence you speak of bearable.
She in turn cupped his face, so that was probably a good sign, he thought. They could easily smell one another's breath at that point, and neither cared about the lingering odor of the stew they had earlier. All that was left was to drift forward, the hammering in his chest be damned.
But panic set in, and the Titan shifter withdrew, suddenly fearful of where this could take them.
He looked away from her, still holding her in his arms, "Head back to camp. You've been gone a while and they might start worrying."
She tried to hide the despondent look on her face, and failed miserably, "Of course. Not to mention we have a long day ahead of us tomorrow. You should probably return too."
He released her, and he was yearning for her already the moment he did. Little did he know that she too felt the same, "Yeah, I will. I'll follow as soon as I take down the sack. Goodnight."
"Goodnight," with that, she turned and paced away, leaving him alone with his thoughts.
For how long he knelt on the sands and contemplated what just happened, he could not say for certain. His memory must have played tricks with him that night, for as he woke up on his bedroll the following morning, he could barely remember lugging the sack to camp and entering his tent.
On the other hand, he remembered her just fine, the recollection fresh as the morning dew that greeted him outside.