Author's Note: This short is not for the faint of heart. Ambiguity has never been one of my strong suits.

5.

Verdict: Guilty of all charges. Penalty: Sentenced to death. Mode: Seppuku.

That had been the opposing clan's decision earlier that afternoon, but they had agreed to allow Levi to die honorably, instead of as a traitor. And now Mikasa sat, blank and unfeeling, outside of Levi's cell, unsure of what to say or do. He gave her his characteristic scowl, trying to show her he was unafraid of his future. Or lack thereof.

"I can't do this, Levi. You promised I wouldn't have to," she gripped the cold iron of the bars, refusing to look into his face, and knowing that if she did, the tears would drown her. Instead, she stared at his stomach, dreading the next few hours.

He was dressed in the typical garb in preparation for the ceremony, a white kimono, plain and rough, and it had fallen open, revealing the taut, smooth skin. Images of the impending slash drifted across her mind, and she fought herself, holding onto what little hope she had left.

"We knew the consequences, Mikasa. We knew, and we still decided to go through with it," Levi crossed his legs, looking as if he were getting ready for bed instead of waltzing with Death. "We had to. All for him. So he could grow up in a country of peace, and take up the katana to help people instead of butcher them. Do you understand?" he closed his eyes, breathing heavily.

"But what about now, Levi?" Mikasa leaned forward, pressing her forehead against the bars. Her strength was failing her. "I can't do what you've asked me to do. You can't expect me to…"

"I can and I will," Levi snapped. "We've no other choice. You're the only skilled enough swordsman to complete the ritual. I won't let anyone else do it." His voice softened, and suddenly, it wavered as the next words floated by her ears. "If I'm going to die, it will be on my own terms. And if I'm going to plunge that tantō into my own gut, you will be my kaishakunin." He opened his eyes and cupped her cheek. "The last thing I want to see is your face, Mikasa, and only yours."

Mikasa choked, and her tears blurred her vision, stinging the unhealed, small cuts on her face. She'd never thought she'd be asked to be someone's kaishakunin, let alone the one for the man she loved.

"You're strong, Mikasa. I know you can do this. Grant me a swift and painless death from this harsh world."

The expansive room felt claustrophobic and Mikasa felt suffocated. Her heart was pounding a tattoo against her chest and her grip on the katana trembled.

Levi was brought in and forced to kneel in the center of the room, and a selection of knives were laid out in front of him. Indistinct whispering flitted across the room and she saw Levi nod in response to one of the opposing clan's soldiers, an affirmative that he was ready.

Her steps grew heavy, each bringing her closer to Levi and yet further away from him. She had dried her eyes and adjusted her kimono to look every bit the ruthless warrior she was known to be, but her insides were empty, and they were threatening to collapse in on themselves any minute.

Why Levi? We could have done this together.

The sword in her hand gleamed clean and sharp, and she strained her arm, the weight of the metal feeling hot and stifling.

Can I do this? Can I perform the kaishaku on my Captain? My husband? Can I…?

Levi inclined his head toward her as she came forward, drawing a finger across the back of his neck lightly, showing her where to make the cut. "Look at me while you do it," he murmured as she knelt behind him. "I want to see your face."

Mikasa swallowed, her stomach in knots and her heart in her throat. She had a duty to him, as his second-in-command, and though it was cruel and heartless, she would give him what he had asked for. Her mind was made up. Her face hard and emotionless, she looked straight ahead, not daring to think about the imminent bloodshed.

A word from the chief of their rival clan and the soldiers standing guard over Levi bowed, almost mockingly, and moved away to stand by the walls of the room. "You have ten minutes, former Captain Levi Ackerman-san of the Scouting Legion. Traitors, you lot," he spat. "We welcome your death with many thanks, and we praise you for your sacrifice so that you may keep your honor. Ten minutes."

Levi said nothing in return and only blinked at Mikasa, his eyes soft and as furiously black as the day she had met him. Life burned in those eyes, life she would soon extinguish. "Is he here?" the words sounding dull and forlorn.

Mikasa shook her head slightly, keeping one eye on the rival chief, looking for any deception in his sweaty face. Seeing none, she bit her lip and shook her head again. "I wouldn't allow him to. This is not something a child should see from his parents."

Levi sighed, content. "We have taught him well. May the Dragon watch over him in his training and lead him down the right path. Erwin will come for him later tonight."

"Five minutes!" the command came again, this time more impatient.

"End it Mikasa. End it now."

Her eyelids fluttered as she stood up slowly and reached for the scabbard. Holding it in the customary position, she awaited Levi's movements, her heart slowing down to almost nothing.

This was it then. This was how it ended. A failed revolution and her husband's death by her own hand. What better way to admit defeat?

Levi reached for the tantō nearest him, and with one quick strike, plunged the knife into the fair skin of his abdomen, red dripping down the knife and onto the pristine floor.

Mikasa felt her world shatter.

He stared at her, mouth slightly open in surprise at the pain, and scarlet beginning to color the corners of his lips, those soft lips she had so often kissed and had caressed in the dead of night. She never would again.

But his eyes calmed her. Because they weren't full of regret or pain or misery. Instead, peace washed into them, the black irises slowly shifting to a dark blue, Death's final gift.

Clenching her teeth, Mikasa took up the katana, her body feeling sluggish and dumb. Locking her own eyes to his fading ones, she brought the sword down, wishing she could join him in Hell. The blade fell, exactly on the invisible line on Levi's neck and she cursed and swore inside her head, damning whatever god had sanctioned this cruel fate.

Blood streaks showered the cloth of her kimono, Life's wine pouring from the body of her dead husband. It collapsed in a heap of bloody limbs and tears, and Mikasa fell to her knees, the warm liquid seeping into her clothes. She rocked back and forth, a twisted grimace on her face, and she ran her fingers through the growing pool of blood from Levi's corpse. Following the rituals of their clan, she marked her face in the distinct pattern of a new widow, never taking her eyes off of the head of her husband. It was still attached to the body, just as kaishaku governed. She hadn't failed him.

Drawing a trembling hand over his face, she closed his icy blue eyes, and waited for the attendants to come and take him away, away to the pyre that had already been prepared. She would mourn for weeks.

Following the attendants outside, she drew a white veil over her face, her breathing uneven and coming out in quick gasps. She was still the loyal wife, even if that loyalty meant losing the humanity she had left.

The burning lasted through the night and she stayed until the fire was completely dead, well into the morning of the next day. Levi's deathday passed and the sun rose, streaming cold sunlight onto the blackened pyre, the body now entirely disintegrated; there was nothing left of her beloved husband anymore.

She had done it. Fulfilled his last wish. But part of her soul had been swept away with him, and they said that a person with half a soul was always the most dangerous and deadly. She'd keep fighting for Levi's honor, until the day they regained their clan's land again and when his ashes could finally rest in his own home, instead of the being held prisoner in the castle of the rival clan's chief. If she couldn't do it with Levi, she'd do it with their son, this time with no mistakes.

Clenching her fists until her nails drew blood from her palms, she made no struggle against the guards that came to take her away. She'd no doubt be claimed as a trophy now, but that was fine with her. As long as she was alive, she promised herself, Levi would not have died in vain.

I've done as you asked, dear husband. Let those who oppose us fear our wrath and retribution. Vengeance is coming.