"I gotta admit, that wasn't the smartest thing you've ever done. You shouldn't have let him go."
The Commander's tent was relatively spacious compared to the other Scouts' one-man tents. Fortunately, all their tents were crafted with water-resistant materials, affording them the privilege of sleeping dry that night despite the weather. The interior was about as large as a soldier's proper quarters, allowing occupants to walk around upright. The sparsely decorated interior, however, reflected Hangi's preference of space over luxury; furniture consisted of only a bedroll in one corner, a chair, and a table with a lamp, neatly stacked reports and unfinished maps. While Hangi occupied the chair, the Captain stood in one corner, crossing his arms before him.
"It might kill him to stay here while his mind insists that she could still be out there," the Commander replied, the lamp behind her casting her face in shadow, "I saw his face. I didn't have the heart to turn him down."
"Fucking sentiment," Levi murmured, "You're the Commander of the most elite military branch, not a moderator of some self-esteem therapy club. I just lost my best soldier, and now you send one of the only two Titan shifters the Survey Corps has deep into barely charted territory with zero daylight left? Are you out of your fucking nut?"
Hangi straightened in her seat, "I don't need your permission Levi, and I don't expect you to understand. Mikasa may be nothing more than a valuable asset to you, but she could mean the world to Eren for all we know—"
"You're damn right I don't understand. Eren is a major equalizer of the Survey Corps against the enemy, and recently Arlert as well. If we were to lose him, because heaven knows if we took out every last Titan in the area, to call that a setback would be an understatement. Inconsistent as it might be, the ability to control the enemy will turn the tide of the war. Bottomline, personal feelings were assigned greater importance than duty. Accountability falls on him, and you who expressed consent. But you know what, that shit flies out the window if we lose Eren anyway."
"If Petra were alive and you found yourself in the same—"
"You just hit thin ice, Commander. Drop it while you still can."
"Then have a little more empathy for the boy, will you? That's what Eren is going through right now. That's what he feels."
"And what do you think he'll feel," he spat out the last word like venom, "when he arrives at the realization that she's very much dead? Go ahead, keep on babying your soldiers. From what we've seen, of course we know Eren to be the prudent type: he doesn't give in to his emotions nor does he act impetuously. What could possibly go wrong? Am I making sense? Didn't think that through, did you?"
"Alright, fine. I didn't. You don't have to rub it in."
"That's what you're worried about right now? Me rubbing it in your spineless ass?"
A new voice filled the room, "Good evening, Commander. Forgive my boorishness, but may I speak with you for a moment?"
Hangi saw Jean part the tent closure, head tentatively peeking in. She motioned the boy to enter, not minding his dripping form soaking a portion of the tent inside. It seems even the sky was mourning their loss, refusing to cease its weeping. Jean saluted, and the Commander waved it aside.
"At ease. I have no problem with that Jean. Do you want the midget here to leave?"
He gave a tired smile at the Commander's banter, "That wouldn't be necessary, Sir. Come to think of it, I would like to request a bit of the Captain's time as well, as it concerns his family."
Retaining his usual blank face, Levi nodded, prompting Jean to get to the point.
"Armin told me that before Eren left, the latter wished to tell me something. Eren said that it wasn't on me, that I wasn't to blame. However, it just feels the exact opposite. She lost her life because of me, that much I know."
Hangi stood up, grasping the boy's forearm. There she goes again, Levi thought.
"Listen, if it's about the incident report, that can wait until tomorrow. Get some rest, Jean."
"With all due respect Commander, rest is the last thing I need right now. I must tell you the truth of what happened."
"Very well. We're all ears."
His superiors remained silent as he collected his thoughts, and for that he was grateful.
Both Levi and Hangi knew that Jean was not the sentimental type, and that's how they also knew how severely this incident scarred him. Even as he calmly recollected how she gave her spare gas canisters to him and how she held them off, the lingering pain and remorse were evident in his voice, lacing his every word. Eren and Armin weren't the only ones visibly shaken by her sacrifice; it took its toll on all of them, particularly the one who was saved.
Painful as it was, Jean went on, painting her in the brightest light possible without straying from the truth. It was as if there were two Mikasas, and he wanted to immortalize both of them. The first was the one who laid her life down for a comrade, valiantly felling Titans left and right until their sheer numbers overwhelmed her. The second one was the Mikasa he grew to love and admire as a dear friend, a constant wellspring of strength to those around her. Even as he neared the end of his account, his enthusiasm in sharing her final tale never wavered.
Which was all nice and heartwarming until Levi abruptly seized his collar.
"Damn right she sacrificed herself for your sorry ass, so let's get one thing straight," the Captain thought he presented his usual emotionless stare, but he was wrong. Unfazed by the shorter man's action, Jean saw through Levi just as he saw through Mikasa before he left her, and the similarities were astounding. Beneath their masks accumulated so much... sorrow.
"You owe it to her to make the most out of your remaining years, and survivor's guilt doesn't fit in the equation. At some point, every soldier is alive because one comrade shoved him away from the reaper's sickle. We all signed up for this, and we all have to live with it. So suck it up, Kirschtein. If I catch you hitting the hooch or acting all sorry for yourself, I swear."
"I'll do nothing of that sort, Captain. And with what time I have left... I'll earn it. That is all, Sir."
"Good. Dismissed."
The boy saluted before exiting the tent, leaving Levi and Hangi alone once more.
"See, Four-eyes?" said Levi, slapping Hangi's shoulder, "That's how it's done. The day I start coddling my soldiers is also the day I give up the vision of a clean world. Someone had to give it to him straight."
The Commander returned to her seat, resting her elbows on her knees, "You do your thing, and I go with mine, Levi. I have my reasons."
"Please, enlighten me. What could be the reasons behind needlessly putting our beloved Titan shifter at risk? What, it's not enough for humanity to lose one of its best soldiers, perhaps the last family I've got? Must we lose Eren too so things don't get terribly easy?"
"Eren will come back to us, Levi. And I don't have to tell you my reasons. Not up for discussion."
"Because there wouldn't be much to discuss, anyway. He better come back. Not for the sake of either of us, but for humankind. One last thing before I get out of your hair—what about the training of the fresh recruits the day after tomorrow? We still pushing through with that?"
"Yes. After a simple funeral service in the morning, life must go on. We'll set up the dummies along the eastern region as planned. When the rookies arrive, I'll assign personnel to secure a perimeter around the training area, constantly on the lookout for threats. At the first sign of trouble, we'll abort the training exercise."
"Fine, sounds reasonable enough. None of those kids are getting killed on my watch. Anything else we should talk about?"
"Just one more thing. I'm sorry for thinking that you regard her as nothing more than a military asset. She must mean far more than that to you."
"She is—was a valuable fighting asset. That is a fact. What I think doesn't matter. Now if that's all, sleep tight, Commander."
He brusquely walked out of the tent, ignoring the way she called out his name or the rainfall that drenched his uniform, which he usually loathed. With his comrades none the wiser, humanity's strongest soldier entered his own tent, shut the tent closure, and uncharacteristically wept.
(-)
After roughly six hours of searching, going circles, and wandering in the dark, that incident marked the longest time he remained in his Titan form. Whether or not the conjectures about prolonged Titan transformations were true, one thing was certain—with each step he took, he felt less and less like himself. The once clear goal in his mind to find signs of her were gradually replaced by primal proclivities. He became irritable, becoming more like a Titan and less like a Titan shifter. Why the hell did those bastards have to show up and ruin everything? Why can't I find that damn cave Jean mentioned?
Why can't she just come back to me already?!
Because she is no more, he knew deep within. After six long hours, his Titan form stood still and leaned against a tree. The false hope that carried him up until this point served no other purpose than to cover a phantom pain, a loss that took a bigger chunk of his soul than he could fathom. Believing that she was alive, that she somehow survived the Titan onslaught on her own with but a few scratches, was the gem he held close to his chest. He wanted to believe, and that's where it starts. Madness only ever sets in when a man has difficulty reconciling what he desires with what in fact is.
He had every opportunity to succumb into the dark, and yet he held on.
Precipitation, which halted a few hours ago, poured anew. Once more, he exited his Titan form, feeling the rain drench his clothing and fill the countless holes drilled into him as he looked up. In his hour of loneliness, one soul came to his mind.
I wasn't there for her, Mom. I broke my promise to you. I failed to be strong for her, just like I failed you that day. This can never make up for it... but this I now know. All that's left is to do what I can for what remains. My friends—no, my family—needs me, and I can't end this sorry life knowing the harm I'll bring or the mission I've yet to finish. It's... just so damn hard, Mom.
Cast away by reverie, he did not notice his faithful Attack Titan teetering forward before it was too late.
"Oh, shit. Don't you fu—NOOOOO!"
The Titan fell flat on its face, and the Titan shifter did not fare at all better. Both were out cold.