See You Later, Eren

by Yarfathom

[MANGA SPOILER WARNING] Mikasa opens her eyes, her mind fraught with pain and grief after having decapitated Eren. Only, she is back where she started, in the 104th cadet corps, with complete knowledge of the future. Will she use it to save lives and remedy her mistakes? And will she discover the mystery and purpose behind her transportation? Hard Eremika, fluff, angst, drama

16. Underworld

See you Later, Eren Chapter 16

Title: Underworld

Okay so this is the longest chapter of SYLE so far. I hope that makes up for making you guys wait an extra week haha. Usually I tell you guys in advance, but in this case, I simply wasn't satisfied with the quality of my writing last week, so I decided to give myself an extra one to let it simmer. It may or may not have resulted in a verrrry long chapter. Far too long, to be honest. This isn't quite like chapter 13, though, because A LOT happens in it, so I'm anxious to know your thoughts, so as always, enjoy! -Y

Response to The r3wr1t3r: Thank you so much for the great review, and I'm sorry I didn't update last week! I don't really have a good way of telling people through my version of the story, so I hope you weren't eagerly awaiting it for the whole day haha. Thanks for your thoughts on the RBA scene, it was really the highlight of the chapter for me, and super fun to write. It's cool seeing them discuss Mikasa and theorize about her as we the audience know exactly how much she knows. I'm glad you appreciated Reiner's POV, too, as I felt like I really had to make that one shine because of the complexities of his character. Haha yes Jean finally went into the Scouts and Marco to the interior. All I can say for Armin is that his mind is absolutely spinning right now, as you can probably imagine. I'm glad I have you theorizing as to what will happen next, and I can assure you that this chapter will answer many of your questions, so enjoy!

Response to dareaderreads: Thank you for the review! Yeah, Jean's nearly excessive POV's in the latter part of Trost was all to get to this moment, as I wanted him to join the Scouts but had to make the transition more understandable as Marco actually survived this time. Don't worry, I cannot overstate how big of a role Armin will play soon, so bear with me! Thank you so much for the compliments about my use of POV's, that's so nice to hear. It's often quite difficult jumping in between so many characters, so to know it's appreciated is awesome. AHAHAH you wanted to read more that's great to hear, because the EM this chapter is INTENSE. I really hope you enjoy!

Response to SpiralNemesis: That's actually great to hear, thanks a lot. School is starting very soon for me (in about a week), and I get the creeping suspicion that updates might take a bit longer than they did over this summer, so to know that's not only understood by my readers but appreciated too is so awesome!

---

Eren Jaeger sits. Eren Jaeger also stands. Eren Jaeger stands as well.

Wait... what? That's confusing, most of all to Eren Jaeger, who finds himself leaning on an old wooden beam, on which sits a fresh lantern, seconds away from collapse. At least, it feels that way, which is strange, because something as insignificant as a porch fence wouldn't often carry feeling with it in a dream.

And this has to be a dream, right? There's three Eren Jaegers. Of course, as Eren sits, he can only confirm that he's the true Eren Jaeger. Not only is he seeing through his own eyes, thinking his own thoughts, but he also looks the same. He looks like the same, fifteen year old boy he's grown used to seeing in his reflection. That is unlike the other Eren Jaeger's. They are wholly different from him, yet different from each other as well.

One of them he knows to be Eren Jaeger. He knows it because it's his past self. That short, messy hair, those large green eyes, it's obvious... Well, Eren thinks that he hasn't really changed much in appearance from his nine year old self to now, save for a significant height difference, so how could he tell?

There was one way he could tell. One way that proved with absolute certainty that this Eren Jaeger is not the same as the one that sits, watching the scene before him. He had a soft, red scarf wrapped around his neck.

To see it on himself is surreal. Being in a state of awareness as you dream is surreal enough, as is seeing yourself from the third person, but for some reason to simply see anyone other than his closest friend wearing that old piece of cloth trumps everything else. However, as he sees his father, the man he hasn't been in contact with since that fateful day in Shiganshina, press his hands into young Eren's shoulders, he knows that he's about to lose that scarf forever.

His old man wears a shaken expression, berating his son over what he's done, and Eren remembers. He killed two men that day. He doesn't regret it, he could never regret it, but that doesn't mean this falls under the memories he would consider pleasant. He never liked taking human lives. He convinced himself that day that those men he killed weren't human, and by any definition other than the literal one, they really weren't. But still, death is death, and it's gruesome, messy, and traumatic. He acted like the event didn't affect him at the time, and it probably didn't compared to how most children would react, but to say he came out of it unscathed would be a lie.

If nothing else, he left that day with a greater understanding of the cruelty of the world. He was able to accept it and keep moving forward, but it doesn't mean there weren't times when he was more wary to strangers than before, although his attitude towards them was nothing compared to her's.

And there she stands. Mikasa. Expression cast downwards, cold and dead, as she tugs the large overcoat further around her shoulders, which are far too small. Soon, Eren finds that he can't focus much on what his younger self and his father are talking about. He's heard it all anyways. But what shocks him now is how little attention they're giving to Mikasa.

Just look at her! She's so quiet and sad, Eren can see it on her face. And she's cold, so cold. He tries to touch young Mikasa's shoulder, but it doesn't work. It's as if his brain phases out when he touches her, and it cannot comprehend the sight or the sound or the sensation of his hands grazing the fabric, the way you don't comprehend what's in your peripheral vision until you actively think about it. Only in a dream could such a strange thing occur.

"Our father didn't make me that way. I've been like this since birth," a startlingly familiar voice cuts through, reminding him of the other Eren that stands nearby.

Though he isn't sure if he should call this person Eren. He supposes he looks like him, but he's different in an entirely new way at the same time. His hair is long, long enough to graze his shoulders, and his eyes look dead. Deader than young Mikasa's, Eren thinks. And, of course, he's tall, taller than dad, it seems. It's a peculiar sight to say the least, and though his nose, his eyes, and his general face looks to be that of Eren's, he wasn't sure until his voice rang out into the air.

Now Eren knows. This is Eren from the future. His voice has grown deeper, but it is unmistakably his. With that realization, it somehow feels more incredible. He never imagined he'd look like that in the future. Maybe he'd have grown a beard and developed some more muscle, he always thought. He should keep in mind, though, that this is only a dream. They're not meant to make sense. Surely this is just a jumble of features that his mind meshed together, right? This isn't what he could actually look like in the future. That's absurd. His dreams could never predict that.

How does he know? Because this isn't the future. There will never be a time nor scenario in which multiple Erens inhabit the same space. That's just an axiomatic truth, something that physically just couldn't happen, right?

"Right. I may be able to think clearly here, but it's obviously just a dream. I've had dreams where I realized I was dreaming before, this is nothing new. And besides, this old man being here doesn't make much sense either..." he thinks, shifting his gaze to the bearded man that stands beside this older Eren.

He's a strange one. His physique is well defined, his face free of many wrinkles or signs of age, yet his hair is a ghostly gray. Why? How could a man who looks so young have such a feature? Eren has absolutely no idea who he is, too. Maybe some man he saw back in Shiganshina, one that his mind just happened to procure out of its vast swathes of memories.

"Since birth?" the old man asks.

The older Eren continues. "You won't find the pathetic little brother you wanted in me, or someone who conveniently shares your emotional scars, either."

Eren furrows his brows "Little brother? I've never met this man in my life, how could he be related to me? He doesn't even look that much like me."

It's just a dream.

"What I see here is a man who can only define himself through the continued denial of Grisha Jaeger's wish to restore Eldia. A pathetic man still haunted by his dead father." the future Eren finishes. Now Eren is utterly confused. What's Eldia? Why are they talking about his father?

"If so, this man is grateful to that father, for his acts opened his son's eyes, ultimately saving the world from the danger Eldia poses." The man begins to walk away, letting out another comment that flies right past Eren's ears. It flies past his ears because his father has now turned to a small, sniffling girl.

"Dr. Jaeger, which way... should I go to return home? It's cold. There's nowhere... for me to go home to."

And that younger Eren finally walks up, unwrapping the red scarf from his own neck, and gently wrapping it around her head. Her eyes widen, simply staring at him with a mixture of surprise and confusion.

"You can have this. It's warm, right?"

She looks at the scarf with those shining, charcoal eyes, eyes that Eren could get lost in. He just wants to hug her, to rub her head and tell her everything's going to be okay.

"It's warm."

And as Eren looks at the one that stands, he realizes that despite how different this future Eren may be, his expression is the same.

"Save her. She's so important to me, she has to live." One of the Erens says. He doesn't know which, but it doesn't matter. Because it's true all the same.

...

Eren awakens. He lifts his eyes to see hazy darkness. There are torches and candles all around the room he's in, but it still feels dark, for a reason he cannot place. But that doesn't matter, and neither does the feeling of profound weakness that attacks his bones when he sits up out of his bed.

He's cold. And for some reason, he wants Mikasa. He needs her near.

He places a hand on his head, landing on the white cloth that's wrapped around. "Mi-... Mikasa?" he lets out groggily, surprised at how weak his voice is. Luckily, it doesn't matter, because out of another room comes Mikasa.

"Eren..." she lets out, pacing her way across the small room and kneeling at the foot of his bed. Eren's heart rises back to its normal place, settling, as now she's here, with him. "Are you feeling okay?"

He looks at the foot of his bed as she stares at him with concerned eyes. "...Yeah," he lets out, mind now consumed with thoughts of his reality. Is he feeling okay? Why wouldn't he be? Why is a bandage wrapped around his hand, why do his muscles feel so weak?

But what scares him more is Mikasa. When he looks at her, assesses her condition, his heart spikes. Her face is dotted with black and purple spots, signs of aging bruises, and where they lack, light scars and scabs more than make up for it. Her arms, the ones that rest on his leg and support his back, are covered in bandages as well.

"W...what happened?"

For some reason, her features relax a bit. "What do you remember?" she asks softly.

Eren pauses. "I..."

The memories seep into his mind, slowly coming back to him as he puts in an active effort. He had half expected them to come out in a flurry, but, much to his disappointment, he struggles to remember the events that have led him here, all as Mikasa stares at him expectantly. Suddenly, however, a single word, enough to evoke a slew of memories, comes to mind.

Trost.

Screams. Blood. Pain. Titans. So many titans.

Thomas, Mina, Milieus, Nack...

Eren's eyes widen, and he sucks in a breath. "Trost...!"

He's safe, in a bed, being comforted by Mikasa, which doesn't make any sense. He was out there fighting titans, right? He was meant to report back to HQ, to refill on supplies and continue the fight... but instead he's here. "I remember... something happening in Trost..." and memories start to flood. Mikasa saving his life, their fight against titan after titan, all finishing with it. That fifteen meter class, the one that looks strangely female, the one that fought with a finesse he scarcely sees in humans, let alone mindless titans.

"That female titan!" he shouts out, lifting the covers off of himself and attempting to scurry out of bed. However, as he puts his feet on the uncomfortably stony floor, his legs buckle. He would have fallen if it were not for the graceful arms that catch his fall.

"Eren, wait! You haven't recovered your full strength."

Recovered his full strength? Was he knocked unconscious? Confusion finally begins to paint his face. "What do you mean?"

She doesn't respond, only gently guiding him back to his bed, and he lets her move him. He's too weak to fight back against her, and even if he wasn't, he wouldn't be capable of resisting. Even while marred with a hundred cuts and bruises, her prowess is unmatched. That, at least, is what he tells himself, though he'd be lying if he said the feeling of her hands tenderly smoothing over his arms didn't feel comforting.

"Snap out of it, Eren! Just because you're weak doesn't mean there's not a war going on!"

"So you remember Trost?" she asks, and Eren responds with a confounded stare.

"Of course I remember Trost... why wouldn't I? What happened after? Was I knocked out?"

Mikasa nods, clutching the scarf that sits around her neck and tucking herself deeper into it. "Eren... do you know where we are?"

He furrows his brows, finally starting to look around the relatively small room. It's only a little bit bigger than the kitchen of his old house, plus a small bathroom which probably couldn't fit two people at the same time. The bed he lays in sits at the corner of the room, the right side pressed up against the wall and the left greeting another small bed a few feet away. A dilapidated, round table rests in the center of the room, not far from their beds, and as for furniture, that's the extent of it. Decoration is even more desolate, with not a flower or mural in sight, and only a single, glassless window to let air through, on which a candle sits.

It's not like the air that's let in is doing much good for Eren, though. Everything here feels humid and choked, as if the air itself were thicker, pushing against every movement he makes, every breath he takes. It's presence is palpable, working with gravity to further sink and discolor the walls, and further push Eren's weight against the raggedy bed that feels like it could collapse at any moment. It's not something that is an immediate cause for concern, but it's something he'd like to get away from soon, if at all possible.

But he's not at all prepared for the sight that greets him as he looks out his window. That hazy darkness he noted earlier wasn't because he awoke in the dead of night like he originally thought. It's because the sky above them is completely blocked out by rock, as far as the eye can see.

"We're in the Underground."

Eren blinks, the magnitude of the revelation passing in waves. "T-The Underground?"

"It's a city under Mitras," she explains, much to Eren's chagrin. He knows what the Underground is, he just wants to know why they've traveled to the capital and so far away from Trost. He turns his head from the window, meeting Mikasa with wide eyes and a surprised frown.

What... How... Why... All prevalent questions that need to be answered. What is he doing here? How did they move all the way here while he was out? Was he really unconscious for days? What could have happened to him? And why? Why would command move them here, why would...

Wait.

He peers down from Mikasa's eyes, looking at her clothes. She wears simple black pants and a belt, along with a red shirt with three-quarter sleeves, a far cry from the white blouses, pink cardigans, and ankle-length skirts she would often wear casually. He looks different, too, with a dark brown shirt and beige pants, not something he remembers ever wearing.

"What are we doing here, Mikasa? Why are you wearing that?"

She refuses to meet his eyes, and though he typically finds the strength within him to be patient, an exception he makes only for her, he finds his anxiousness bubbling to the surface. "Oi, Mikasa! What happened after Trost? Where's Armin, a-and Connie and Reiner, and everyone?"

"I don't know."

Eren's heart stutters at the sheer preposterousness of her words. "Huh?! Why are we here, then?"

"Eren..." she grabs his hand, shutting him and his frantic thoughts out for the briefest of moments. "I'll explain everything."

She sucks in a breath, keeping their hands intertwined as she looks at him with her deep, charcoal eyes. "We... No, I... I ran away."

His eyebrows lift. "What?"

"The Female Titan eventually retreated... so I grabbed you. I was afraid of what would happen because of my desertion, but I couldn't stay in Trost with you unconscious. I said my goodbyes to Armin and ran." Her voice carries a pang of regret, and she opts to look at the dinghy bed instead of his green eyes.

"Mi...Mikasa..." he's overwhelmed with the news. "I told you I would fight, we would fight to keep you alive. You're one of the strongest soldiers, they wouldn't just kill you for what you did!"

"I can't take that risk. I have to protect you."

Eren doesn't know what to say. A pure mixture of frustration, guilt, and gratitude swell within him, churning in his stomach as he makes heads and tails out of this sudden change. A part of him is thankful that she'd sacrifice anything to protect him. More often than not he finds himself willing to do the same thing for her, and to know it's reciprocated fills his heart with an unparalleled feeling. He realized long ago that she never did what she did out of obligation, yet his soul still weeps in guilt at what he's done. If he wasn't so stupid, getting caught by the titans and getting his entire squad, save for his best friend, devoured, this would have never happened. If he wasn't such an idiot, Mikasa would never feel the inclination, the need, to protect him.

But paramount in his feelings is undoubtedly his frustration, and the barriers of friendship and care he holds for the girl crumble in short order as anger mars his face, worse than the cuts and bruises and cloth on her own. "So... you just gave up?! How will we fight the titans now? We spent years in training, we sacrificed sweat, blood, and tears to get to where we were, just to end up here?"

"Eren... I-... Do you think we should go back?"

"Of course we should go back! We should explain what happened. If we act fast..." his voice wanders, the truth of where they are weighing down on him, and Mikasa only pushes it down further.

"You've been unconscious for two days. That's how long it took us to get here, so it would take another two to get back. By then they'd know we've fled. Even if we did come back, they probably wouldn't spare us after that. If there's a small chance that I'll be saved because of my skill, then there's an even smaller chance for you," she explains curtly. Eren bites back the slight prick of hurt that comes from the truth that she's way more proficient than him.

"and Eren..." she squeezes his hand, forcing him to look her in her steely eyes. "I won't let you die."

Her expression is sharp, unmoving, like she always gets when she's talking about something she either knows she's right in or is too passionate to care. It was always a version of her that Eren didn't care for, as it practically invited his combative personality to challenge her. This time is no different.

"Quit being like that! You didn't have to go all the way to the Underground to do that, we could have done something about your desertion once we retreated from Trost!" his eyebrows are arched upwards, an amalgamation of anger and concern tilting them.

"I don't care. They probably would have executed me, and there's no point in worrying about hypotheticals. It's better if you forget about the military now."

"Forget about the military? Are you crazy?! Mikasa, don't you remember what we're fighting for? A titan ate my mom, they destroyed Shiganshina!"

Her face, though resilient, starts to show some cracks. "I know, but-"

"But what, Mikasa? Are you really willing to abandon the military after everything you've put into it?" Can she really not see it? Even if she never wanted to join the military, like Eren had suspected for a long time, why would she leap at the first opportunity to leave? He knows that they stood a good chance of saving Mikasa from being punished for desertion, but because she acted too hasty, now they truly have no hope. Missing for two days, both of them? He knows there's no excusing that. He knows that for a fact because he still can't manage to coax a coherent excuse out of her.

"It's not about that."

"Then what is it about?"

Her mouth hangs agape as her eyes tremble, and he knows she's searching her mind, desperately looking for what to say, and he can't stand it. For so long now Mikasa has always been so secretive, and he's had enough. When she attempts to reach for his arm again, he grabs it by the wrist, shaking it to get her attention.

"Mikasa! What are we gonna do now? Live here for the rest of our lives until we rot? That's bullshit!" he feels tears puddle into the corners of his eyes at the thought of living his entire life in this shithole, where the air is thick, the walls are rotting, and there's barely a sun to speak of. If there was one singular place farther from the ocean, one place he doesn't want to be, it's here. "And all before I've even had the chance to do anything? How can I avenge my mom like this?"

His mother's voice echoes through his mind. "I won't let you. Joining the Survey Corps? Don't be stupid." She never wanted him to join the military, let alone the Survey Corps. Is this what she would have wanted? Maybe... but is this what she deserved? Absolutely not. She deserved to live, to see the outside world once Eren had cleaned it of its filth. After she died, the least he could do was try...

He viciously fights back his tears, with all the might he can muster, all the might of Eren Jaeger, but it is hardly enough. "I didn't even get to kill that many..." as the words fall, so does his heart, because everything he's dreamed about for years is in jeopardy. No... it's far past jeopardy, it's practically in ruin.

"Eren... I... I'm sorry."

He finally forces his arm away from his eyes, wanting to see her as he hears her words. The eyes that were so resolute not a minute ago now shine with vulnerability, a quality he knows all too well is only reserved for him. "I just want to keep you safe. I didn't want to force you out of the military... but..." her lip quivers as she raises another arm, silently asking if she can grab his hand, and a part of him breaks to see that she actually thinks she has to ask. He lets go of her wrist and takes her other hand.

"Mikasa..."

"I'm not saying we should stay here forever," she continues. "but I just didn't know what to do. I'm sorry... I'm..." Her head hangs low as she stares at the ground, and the voice of his mother that lingers so painfully in his mind forms another reminder. "Eren, take Mikasa and run! You must survive!" were the last words his own mother dedicated her breath to.

And then he notices it. There's a bandage on the left side of her lip, undoubtedly to mask a cut she gained during Trost. He noticed it before, sure, but now that it's really caught his eye, he feels a sting in his chest. A pointed sense of nostalgia pricks at his heart, as sharp as the knife he picked up with innocent hands back when their lives were newer. He remembers all too well the sight of her when they first took her into the Jaeger's house. His father had patched up the cut on her lip, and for the first week she walked around, aimlessly, with the cold of autumn night, wearing it like she does now. He feels his insides warm with pity and concern, despite how angry he should be.

She was always cold without him, and for a second Eren thinks that if Mikasa really had to run, he'd want to go with her, no matter how many titans are waiting to be killed in the other direction.

He doesn't speak. He only gazes into her passionate eyes, as she requites in kind. He can't find it within him to fully forgive her for their present circumstances, but looking at her now, he simply cannot stay upset either. Not at Mikasa. "She's scared, Eren." And even though he should be shouting at her to get her act together, to not have acted so emotionally, he can't. He doesn't know why, but he can't. Her deep, loving eyes stay his tongue.

"I'm sorry," he lets out. A ghost of a gasp escapes her soft lips.

"You shouldn't apologize."

He sighs. "I know, but I shouldn't have yelled. This is just a shitty situation..." he gradually shifts his legs off of the bed once again, this time prepared for the weakness that's been imparted onto them. He doesn't know how he should feel about what she should have done, but he understands Mikasa's actions, at the very least. For now, all he knows is that they have to keep each other safe. "What should we do?"

She stands, keeping herself close to him so she can support him if he falls again. "I don't know, but we'll figure something out."

Eren perks up. "Maybe Armin can help us. If he joins the Survey Corps, he might be able to convince the Commander to pardon us." He doesn't know if that's something the Commander of the Survey Corps can do, given their offense, but the hope is enough to maintain his conviction. Mikasa smiles tentatively, nodding her head. Eren casts her a look, feeling like there's something behind her eyes that she won't sew into words, but she doesn't budge.

"We have time to think about it. For now, we should lay low here. The military might be after us."

Eren scoffs. "If the Military Police allow all this crime to happen right under their nose, I doubt two more ex-soldiers are going to make a big difference." Ex-soldier. The word is like venom seeping from his tongue, the very opposite of everything he's wanted to be.

"Now isn't the time to worry about that. Nothing's changed, you're just making a sacrifice to keep Mikasa safe. Soon, you'll be in the Survey Corps," he tells himself.

Mikasa doesn't respond, instead wrapping her scarf more securely around her neck, blending in with the red of her shirt. "Are you thirsty?"

Eren looks down, noting the sticky dryness that accompanies his tongue. "It couldn't have possibly been two days that I went without water, though."

"Yeah."

---

Guilt is an emotion Mikasa is no stranger to. She's known guilt for as long as she can remember. She remembers feeling guilty she couldn't save her mom and dad, guilty that she didn't run away when her mother begged her to with the wispy remnants of her life. She felt guilty she couldn't save Carla, and guilty when she got Levi injured because of her own haste. Guilt hangs over her head like a guillotine as she recalls the fallen soldiers she failed to save, and for a while she had a hard time facing Armin once he came back as the Colossal Titan, because she gave up when Eren didn't.

Guilt is perhaps one of the more predominant feelings she's inflicted with when it comes to her friends, as her fellow soldiers likely all are, but with Eren, it doesn't even compare. Every day she feels guilty. Every day that she doesn't tell him she's from the future, every day she doesn't tell him he's a titan, and every day she doesn't tell him she loves him. If she could just muster up the courage, the faith that not only will a confession not set him down a course she can't follow, but that it won't destroy their relationship, she would tell him every day. She wants to tell him how much she loves him, and maybe, just maybe, if she told him it every day, he would stay with her.

But she's a coward. It's strange, because him leaving her is what she fears more than anything else, so you'd think that she might as well tell him. After all, what does she have to lose? If Eren's descent really is inevitable, if he's bound to leave her side eventually, then the least she can do is find the will within her to confess. For some reason, however, the prospect of fighting an army of titans by herself is more appealing than that. And she feels guilty.

And right now, she feels guiltier than she has for a long time, because she's lying to his face. She simply cannot tell him the truth of why she's taken him here. She tries to tell herself that the reason for that is because if she did, Eren would learn about his titan, thus beginning that downward spiral. Of course that's part of it, but if she's being honest with herself, she doesn't think she could physically give him the true explanation, because she doesn't have one herself.

Could she have bargained for her life? Used her skill not to retaliate against the military but to argue that she stay? With the help of someone like Erwin, she has little doubt that she could, and Eren sees it too. So why couldn't she? Why did one glance at Eren, the feeling of his beating heart and the sight of his unconscious, defenseless state awaken something primal within her? It's a feeling she's struggled with ever since she met him, and it's that childish desire that burns inside her heart to hold him tight in her arms and fight against anything that threatens him. She succumbed to it when she slammed Armin into the table that day, just as a reflex, and she succumbed to it now, she knows. And now, whether she likes it or not, she reaps the consequences. It's like Eren had said, this is a shitty situation, and she has no one to blame but herself.

She has her reasons. First of all, the warriors know the extent of Mikasa's knowledge now. She doesn't expect time travel to be their first conclusion, but with the amount she's given away, she wouldn't be surprised if they eventually start to suspect something of the like. They could be extra cautious of her now, or extra brazen, it doesn't really matter, because they're a threat to her and Eren all the same. She'd be lying if she said the warriors' newfound knowledge played a large role in her decision, but it certainly works out this way. If she didn't run away, she would have risked an immediate offensive by the three, which isn't an unbelievable prospect, knowing Reiner. And now, if they decide to chase after her, which she expects they will now that they know about Eren's titan, they'll have little luck searching around here, where support from the crown is scarce and it's easy to slip into the shadows.

There's also Ymir to consider. Mikasa couldn't continue to work with her even if she wanted to. That level of fundamental trust, if such a thing could have existed with someone like Ymir, is completely gone. She can't depend on the freckled brunette any longer, so that's yet another reason she can't continue with her plan.

She looks to her right. Her immediate right, because she insisted that they stand close together as they walk around the crumbling, shadowy streets of the Underground. Whether it's necessary is debatable. After all, it's not like if Eren was a couple feet away he could be swept away with any less difficulty than the way they walk now, shoulders easily brushing up against each other. But... it makes her feel better. And whether Eren notices that or not, he isn't resisting.

She remembers when she had hoped to convince Eren to leave the military of his own accord. During the first weeks of training, she attempted to make him feel as though he was simply doomed for failure. Naturally, because this is Eren she's dealing with, it didn't work, and she supposes that now all she's done is cut out the middle man. She forced his hand, practically kidnapping him and taking him to the Underground under the flimsy excuse that she believed she was destined for execution. This way, Eren will truly never have to join the Survey Corps.

But there are two problems with this. Objectively speaking, this is only a temporary solution. Sure, she can postpone their reintroduction back into the military indefinitely, but eventually Eren is going to make another push. It's miraculous enough that his concern for her seemed to trump his desire to kill the titans, a fact that makes her heart beat impossibly fast, as if her efforts to be more genuine with him in this timeline have actually made enough of a difference for him to make such a decision. She knows, though, that this is tenuous at best. He could never prioritize her over his dreams... Understandably so.

And that's the other problem. The guilt. She's lied to him about both the circumstances of their arrival and exactly why they have to stay. She's forcing him to live away from his dreams, and just because she convinced him to stay doesn't mean what she's doing is right. Mikasa could have kept him out of the military by force a long time ago, she's strong, after all. But she doesn't like to use force on the people she cares about, especially not Eren.

"But you did. You forced him here anyway."

"But I was scared..."

"That doesn't matter."

"But I'm sorry..."

But she knows that's little assurance to anyone. It may explain her behavior, but it doesn't excuse it, and so the guilt bites at her again.

She tried so desperately to tell him how sorry she was for what she did, even if she can't bring herself to regret it. And once the truth comes out, she's doomed. What else would convince him that she's worthy of his hate more than the act of deceiving him and trapping him here, a manifestation of his worst nightmare?

Anxiety floats within her like a boat about to be capsized. Her insides tremble, ready to break forth and shake her whole body, but she's interrupted by a concerned voice.

"Mikasa, are you okay?"

She shifts her head to meet his eyes again. His forest greens are laced with a light disquietude, which she can bear only for a few moments before turning her head back to the ground, tucking the scarf up to her chin. "Yes."

He frowns, but doesn't push it, instead letting out a hearty sigh as he looks around the dilapidated street, the odd torch being the only source through which light is brought to their path. This wasn't something that Mikasa had in mind, especially not while he's so weak, but Eren had insisted that if they're going to be staying here for a while, they should get to know the area a little bit. It's clear to her that he's still employing lessons he learned in the military to navigate this underworld of humanity, which Mikasa finds a tad naïve. It isn't that she regards herself as particularly street smart either, but she knows that they're going to have to approach this differently than with titans. With her Ackerman strength, she doesn't think things will be too difficult around here; she may even be able to use her muscle to thrive here. Being cold and threatening isn't something foreign to her, though she may not be dastardly enough.

Her thoughts are stopped by a small scratching sound coming from her right, and she looks to see Eren absentmindedly rubbing at his own arm continuously. After a few seconds of doing it, Mikasa furrows her brows. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing... this shirt just itches."

Yeah... he's built for the Underground alright.

"You can switch it out when we get back."

He blinks. "How much clothing did you get?"

"Not much. Enough to last us a week before we need to wash."

"Oh.."

It shouldn't be a problem, though. This isn't anything like Shiganshina, or anywhere on the surface for that matter, but it's surprisingly airy down here. What they really should be worried about is it getting stolen.

As they turn a corner, Mikasa eyeing some suspicious looking man who passes them (though to be frank, everyone looks suspicious), Eren speaks up again.

"How did you get them? And how did you afford a living space?"

She sighs, realizing there's a lot he doesn't know while he was unconscious that he'll be curious about. "I sold our maneuvering equipment."

"Huh? What if we need that?"

Mikasa casts him a look. "ODM gear would just draw attention to ourselves. Remember when you almost got kidnapped during training because those bandits arrived?"

He frowns, looking back at the ground. "Yeah... and they were after the equipment."

"Right. I'm not so much worried about our ODM gear drawing the attention of the Military Police as I am about it drawing criminals." She doesn't mention, however, that she sold their uniforms for a similar reason. "They fetched for a high price, too, so we still have some money left over."

"How much?"

"Just some silver. Not enough to last us long."

"Long enough for us to figure something out?" he asks.

"I don't think so." She'll admit that she's not versed in using currency. It's simply not been a struggle for her for most of her life. She either lived with a parent or guardian, received free, albeit small, meals from the orphanage, or slightly larger meals from the military. This was one of her first times selling anything, so she doesn't even know if what she has will be enough to last them.

"So, in other words, we're going to need to find a way to make some money?"

Mikasa frowns. "Don't worry about it."

"What do you mean?"

"I'll deal with the money."

"C'mon, Mikasa. I may not be up to full strength yet, but if we're here for a long time, do you seriously expect me to sit around all day?"

"It's dangerous here, Eren."

"I'm trained to kill titans, I think I can handle this. Besides, I've dealt with criminals before."

Mikasa finds herself tensing up at the words, knowing exactly which criminals he's referring to. She chastises herself. "Calm down. You'll have to get used to criminals down here. Remember, this is for Eren." Unfortunately, their proximity doesn't allow for any ambiguity in her change in body language, and Eren is quick to notice.

"Sorry..." he lets out, eyebrows surging upwards in pity.

"It's okay."

Silence plays out between them as they start to walk down a wider street, the bustle of the Underground much more apparent, until Eren speaks up again, tentatively.

"Are you sure you want to do this?"

"Huh?"

"I just mean... there are criminals all around here, some of them are probably like the ones we killed." His voice grows dark at the end, though his eyes still brim with a comforting light.

"I can handle myself, Eren."

"I know that. But you don't have to..."

She doesn't dare look into his eyes now, lest she risk her heart, which is already on fire, from melting completely. Exposing her very soul for all to witness. "It's okay..." she repeats.

Though she isn't looking, she feels a shift in Eren's body language. "Alright. It's decided." There's a resolute edge to his voice.

"Huh?"

"I'm gonna find some work down here."

"We shouldn't argue about this."

"That's why it's decided."

"Eren." She finally looks at him again.

"I wonder what I should do, though. I could work at a tavern, I've already seen three since we started walking."

"That's not going to happen. I'm not about to leave you alone with alcohol."

"Oi, that's probably the safest job I could get. I know you're worried, but you're the one who brought us here."

She doesn't respond to Eren's admittedly good point. "He's right. You have to be prepared to make some sacrifices and take some risks."

And she knows that she isn't any better. Eren's worried about her, and yet as he asks "What about you?," she knows he won't like the answer.

"I'm going to join a gang." Her voice is measured, betraying the great amount of apprehension she feels as she awaits Eren's reaction. And it isn't pretty. His eyes are saucers as his mouth hangs agape.

"Are you serious? Hell no!"

"Eren-"

"No! Wh-Why would you even want to do that? The money might be good, but it's not worth it!" he forces his shouts to a quieter volume, so as to not pique the interest of any would-be eavesdroppers.

"I wouldn't be doing anything too intense. I'd just act as some muscle. I'm strong. I can use that."

"Don't be stupid! What if they have you kill people, or kidnap them?"

"Most gangs don't just kidnap people for no reason. I wouldn't do anything to innocents" she assures, though it does little to console Eren. She's killed people before, in fact she's all too used to it at this point, so if she has to do it again to keep him safe, she will. From his perspective, of course, neither of them have taken the lives of a human for years. But she knows that Eren, just like her, is willing to do it when push comes to shove. She doesn't care if it makes her evil, a criminal, or anything, as long as she has him. She draws the line at innocents, obviously, and if she's required to do something like that it's as simple as saying no and leaving. But a job like that could sustain them indefinitely against the true threats she fears.

If all she wanted to do was make money, she'd find herself a safer job, but through this she can truly keep her and Eren safe. She'll learn the ins and outs of what it takes to live down here, as well as gain possible access to others she might be able to draw favors out of after a while. She doesn't want to stay here for the rest of her life if she can avoid it, but if the alternative inevitably leads to Eren joining the Scouts, eventually resulting in the deaths of hundreds of millions, she'll do what she has to.

At least, that's what she tells herself. But as she looks at Eren's concerned eyes, even though they shine for an inconvenient reason, the contrast that lies between them and the cold, dead eyes he once wore is enough to make her entire being rise with hope. Hope that, if things just stay the same as they are now, he'll stay with her. She'll do anything, even live and breathe as a criminal of the Underground, if it means she can stay by his side.

---

Annie tramps down the stairs, in direct opposition to the elegance of the room. Compared to her training grounds, everything about the Stohess headquarters is illustrious. The bright, clean walls contrast with the worn wood of her lodgings, the shining glow of the sun casting itself in every corner due to the exorbitant amount of windows. It is quite the stark contrast to the orange hue of torches that enveloped the mess hall of her old resting place.

That's right. It was a resting place, as is this. It's no substitute for home, and it will never be. That's why she defies this place. That's why, despite the stairs that squeak with each step, she tramps listlessly. Just as she's done for years.

"You finally woke up." Her roommate comments with a coy smile. If Annie remembers correctly, her name is Hitch, a girl with short, light brown hair and a near constant smug look on her face. Annie isn't sure if the smile is birthed out of a belief that she knows better than everyone else, or the fact that she just finds the woes and worries of more serious individuals amusing. Neither of which Annie can particularly relate to, so she can't say that she likes the girl all that much. Though, that's to be expected.

"You look so scary when you sleep, I couldn't wake you. Sorry, Annie."

To the brunette's right stood some mountains of men. One of which she didn't recognize. He towered over most of the other trainees, his sharp bowl cut shimmering with the sun's reflection like a beacon. The other two, however, she had the misfortune of knowing all too well. Reiner Braun and Bertholdt Hoover.

She thinks it ironic that despite how horribly wrong things have gone, their plan remains largely unchanged. She had expected to greet her only two true allies today, here in the Stohess Military Police headquarters. That much hasn't changed since they decided to join the military. Yet now, it's for an essentially different reason.

"Lately, you've been too lax." The boy remarks in a stout tone. Annie doesn't know if that's meant to be a jab at her or Hitch... or both, but it isn't worth caring about. She couldn't begin to explain herself even if she wanted to.

For the past couple of days, she's had a lot of trouble waking up, and when she does, it's like plummeting right into stone. Annie told herself that it's simply a lack of interest in what she was doing. After all, if there was even a miniscule amount of investment she had in putting on an act to these devils, it was destroyed when Reiner decided to walk straight into hell to find Mikasa. Patience was a virtue that was so effectively pounded into her as a child, and though it never fails while she's in combat, she can't say that her ability to remain tenacious has extended much to the rest of her life. So, obviously the longer she had to stay on this cursed island, despite the growing incentive to leave as quickly as possible while she still could, the more she'd be disinclined from putting much effort into her current endeavors. It was hard enough interacting with this wicked race, she had to wake up at a reasonable hour, too?

And when she looks at Reiner with dull, tired eyes, she knows she's going to get a mouthful from him. "He should be thankful I agreed to his idiotic plan at all." she thinks, moving to Hitch's side.

"What? Are you mad?" Hitch asks sarcastically, though it has little effect on him.

"Well, aren't you a friendly one?"

To her shock, it's Bertholdt's voice that cuts in. "Leave well enough alone. She's a survivor of Trost, so it'll take a while for her to recover," he meekly explains, regardless of the fact that he too is a supposed "survivor of Trost."

Annie ensured what's been coined by those in the interior as the fall of Trost. She killed plenty of would-be survivors, so she cannot fathom how Bertholdt found the will within himself to defend her. Lying defensively is one thing, but this is another.

"Ah, I get it... you like her," Hitch teases.

"Right. That's why," Annie remembers.

Bertholdt's face flushes. "H-Hey, it's not like that!"

Hitch feebly tries to hold back her laughs in response. "No? Aren't you from Trost as well?"

"If you had so much as heard stories about the titans, you wouldn't be laughing about it now." Reiner's deep voice interjects their conversation, and for the first time this morning Annie has to fight back a visible revulsion. They're both hypocrites, him and Bertholdt, both acting like Trost was some catastrophic occurrence that others would do well to respect. Why should they care? It was their fault, wasn't it?

But... if she's being honest, that isn't what disrupts her so deeply. It's not the fact that they're playing pretend at all, it's that they dare to have actual reasons for what they say. Bertholdt isn't nefarious, he just has a crush on Annie, and wants to defend her from criticism, no matter how minor or warranted it may be. And Reiner... it's like he's convinced himself that he simultaneously did and didn't inflict so much death and cruelty onto the world at the same time. She can't even properly comprehend his mind, let alone attempt to sympathize with it.

Annie thinks it's pretty sad, in a pathetic kind of way. They hide under the pretense that they aren't monsters, they dare to whisper their own thoughts and emotions into being, as if any notion of humanity is deserved. The three of them are liars and murderers, and deserve nothing less than to be treated as such, if you ask her. She doesn't need them, and she especially doesn't need the approval of the Eldians here. All she needs is her father.

Before Hitch can come up with what would likely be another quip, she's shushed by the bowl headed boy as he notices footsteps approaching them. The row of new Military Police salute in tandem, but their superior is quick to lift a hand.

"Don't bother," he mutters in a careless tone. He pauses, lifting up the paper he holds closer to his eyes and scratching the back of his head, eventually letting out a tired breath. "It looks like some of you aren't going to be here for long. Since Trost fell, there's been a wave of refugees, plus some antsy residents of Wall Rose, coming into Sina for safety. Most of them are coming in through Ehrmich District, so the crown's issued that extra soldiers be transferred."

He glances at the fresh soldiers before him, all of whom wear sturdy frowns. Annie can tell by the look in his eyes that he's slightly amused. It's more than likely that he sees their regimented demeanors as unnecessary, but by the lack of any comment, he either doesn't care enough to correct them or expects them to catch on soon enough. Perhaps it's a bit of both.

"A handful of you will be listed for reassignment by this evening, that's it," he finishes, swiftly turning around once no questions are voiced, into another room. Annie notices that her other officers have congregated there, all sharing whiskey and playing some game of cards. "Sorry I held up your game. Let's get back to it," she hears him say as he closes the door, leaving the soldiers to her side to take in the sudden revelation on their own.

---

"Damn! So he's just screwing around?" The boy, who Annie's learned to be called Marlo, shouts.

"Looks that way. Those weren't exactly clear orders." Reiner adds, crossing his arms. The group stand in the courtyard of their headquarters, shuffling around their assignment papers to make room for their possible transferal.

The warriors had anticipated something like this, and hoped to use it to their advantage, splitting up and searching each district for Mikasa. After learning of Mikasa's disappearance through Marco, Annie had felt a flush of relief run through her. The entire time she had been on edge, ready for any kind of immediate attack from Mikasa. She isn't sure what she expected, that Mikasa would attack them as soon as she saw them, that she would simply find them but make it clear that if they do anything other than leave the walls as fast as possible then they'll be dead before the next day, or perhaps something in between. But she surely didn't expect her to leave. Did Mikasa believe she stood no chance against them? As the images of her rocketing towards Annie like a tornado flash through her mind again, she finds herself sincerely doubting that.

Either way, she was relieved at the start. After having nearly lost her life to the raven haired girl, she wasn't eager to jump right back into some kind of confrontation before she was at full strength. But as the days passed and the three planned, Annie realized that it might have not been the blessing she thought it was. Now they're forced to go on the offensive, to attack against a threat that they know nothing of. If Mikasa knew of Annie's father, there's no telling what else she could know.

She had to admit that Reiner had a bit of a point about using this opportunity to find all the answers they've ever needed out of this mission through Mikasa. It doesn't make his plan any less suicidal, but she supposes that if she really cared about succeeding in the mission, then she'd have a similar mindset. Maybe Reiner is right... maybe Marley will see them as cowards and punish them appropriately if they retreat. It's not like she has much trust in the nation that's beat her down time and time again. But even still, if she's going to die, she'd rather see her father one last time.

But if they can pull Reiner's plan off, then she can extend her life for a few more years and go back home without any trouble. That's why she's doing any of this in the first place. Still... they're walking right into the spider's web, and splitting up isn't going to do them much good.

"I know that, Annie. All we're going to do at the beginning is pinpoint her location," is what Reiner said when she told him as much.

"How do we even know she's still in the walls? She could have left the island by now. Maybe this was all coordinated with Hizuru."

"I doubt that. First of all, the only reason she would want to leave the walls is to get the founder back to Hizuru, but I don't see why she would wait until now, since she knew he was a shifter beforehand. Anyways, it's not like we can do anything if she's on a Hizuru ship, so if we can't find her after a couple months of searching the walls, then we'll have no choice but to present our theory to Marley. I don't want to stay on this island longer than I have to."

That last sentence still irks her. What's forcing him to stay here? His pride? Was that not destroyed when Marcel revealed the truth of the circumstances behind him gaining the Armored Titan? Or is there something else?

But she supposes it doesn't matter now. She was stupid enough to agree, and here they are, gathered in Stohess. If all goes well, Reiner will be transferred to Ehrmich, meanwhile Bertholdt will request reassignment to Orvud, the northern district of Wall Sina. He'll probably succeed too; his quiet demeanor and submissive mentality make him well liked by his corrupt superiors. She will stay here, doing as much snooping as she can to find a clue as to where Mikasa could be. The next part of the plan is where Reiner decided to throw her a bone, keeping her away from the utter filth that is Mitras, the capital of "humanity." She spent far too much time navigating those sewers over the past few years, so she'll be the one to move her search to Yarckel District instead, on the west side of Sina, while Reiner and Bertholdt move to the capital city, should their searches of the other districts prove fruitless.

Should that fail, there's a lot of pastures and sparse fields within Sina that Mikasa might have found to be safer to hide in, and though exploring all of Wall Rose would be far more than a three person job, in that case they plan to break down the inner gate to Rose, forcing Mikasa into their domain.

Of course, that's basically their plan C. Ideally, they'll be able to pinpoint her location fairly easily. After all, they have the resources of the Military Police as well as the law on their side, while Mikasa is going to be smuggling herself and Eren while being a deserter. She would say the cards are stacked against the raven haired girl, but when Annie isn't capable of knowing her deck, she hesitates to act so confidently. Mikasa may not be an idiot who ran away out of cowardice, this could all be a part of her master plan, and the warriors are walking right into it. That's where Reiner is being too hasty. He didn't see what Annie saw.

"This organization is even more rotten than I'd imagined. But of course, that's why I chose it, even though they make the rookies do all the work, I didn't know that before..." Hitch mumbles absentmindedly.

Marlo scowls. "Scum... damn scum who can only think of themselves!"

"Hmm? You joined the Military Police, too. Are you any better?" Hitch asks. Marlo gasps, seeming visibly offended by the comment.

"I am better! I'm not trash like you." He turns to address a couple of other rookies, all of whom stand around lazily, unimpressed by his display. "I came here to correct the Military Police!"

Hitch claps, a wide smile on her face. "Wow, Marlo. I had no idea you were this way." Annie can't tell if she's actually impressed or simply amused. Reiner puts a hand on his shoulder.

"I wouldn't be so loud if I were you. Remember what happened to Marco..." he warns. Marlo quirks a brow.

"Oh, the man with the cute freckles? I haven't gotten to see him for a week," Hitch says.

"What happened to him?" Marlo asks.

Reiner shrugs slightly. "I'm not too sure, but we all know how much time he spent arguing with his superiors."

Annie feels compelled to laugh at the reminder. Marco certainly was something when he first got into the Military Police. During training, all he ever talked about was how eager he was to serve the king and do his duty, but less than a week in, it was clear his optimistic personality clashed deeply with the cynical, lazy officers he worked under. He stuck out like a sore thumb, and unlike someone like Bertholdt, he wasn't afraid to stand against injustice when he saw it, whether it came from the Military Police or not. Marco was soon seen as nothing more than a pest by his superiors, one that made their corrupt misadventures much more difficult.

Reiner continues. "The word is he got reassigned to the one place he wouldn't bother anyone, the place where Military Police go to die."

"Huh? Where's that?" Marlo asks, a bit shaken by the fact.

"The Underground."

---

Eren really does hate it here. The sky was something he never thought he would sorely miss, but he does. Before even learning about the outside world from Armin, he spent his days sitting by the river, staring up at the sky. He liked to watch the birds fly overhead, undeniably jealous of them, and he liked to make shapes out of the clouds. It never failed to amaze him just how vast the sky was, and he sometimes wondered if gravity suddenly flipped and he started to fall upwards, just how long he would fall. Would it really be forever?

There's no doubt that he was bored out of his mind whenever he did this. Back then he lacked any kind of purpose, he felt like nothing would change and his life was simply a momentary blip in existence. He'd grow older, get married with someone he didn't like (because he didn't enjoy anyone's company other than Armin's back then), probably be a doctor like his dad, and that would be the end of it. He remembers wishing something would happen when he stared up at the endless expanse, but now he wishes nothing more than to just see it.

After Armin showed him his book, he began to stare up at the sky less frequently. Something about it inflicted him with a primal envy, and a drive to leave the walls and see more of it than he could at the time. The only memories he has of actually enjoying the activity was when Mikasa was with him. Not because it grew any less boring, because, to be honest, Mikasa isn't known for her riveting conversation skills, but because she seemed to enjoy herself. He doesn't know why. Out of the three of them, she was always the least impatient to leave the walls, and he didn't often talk about joining the Survey Corps around her because he knew she didn't like it. He tended to save those conversations for Armin, and yet sitting alone with Mikasa by their favorite tree, just staring up at the sky, was still special, and he wishes he could do that right now.

A funny thought enters into his mind, that of him and Mikasa sitting on the roof of their "house," although it really is just a room and a half, staring up at the dark, jagged ceiling of the Underground. He can't imagine willingly doing something like that, even with Mikasa. If the walls always reminded him of his trapped condition, always made him feel like cattle, then being here makes him feel like a maggot.

He sighs, lugging a heavy crate alone in the main streets of the Underground. He thinks it might be nighttime, judging by the small cracks above that would usually shoot rays of light down upon them being absent, but neither him nor Mikasa are asleep right now. They're both on the hunt for a way to make some coin, and Eren can say he's been relatively successful so far, finding a decent, safe job. Though both were worried about being away from each others' presence, they recognized that if they wanted different jobs then it would likely be beneficial to go there alone. At least, that was her reasoning, and he completely understood when it came to her own job. He wouldn't be caught dead accompanying her to whatever shady recruitment place the criminals of the Underground have. "Is that how it works? Is there a recruitment place? Do you just have to ask around?" These were questions that Eren wasn't longing to have answered for him, and a part of him, no, most of him still cannot understand her thinking when it came to that.

Sure... as far as making a good amount of money in the Underground goes, it's the best choice by far. And she certainly is stronger than any adult he's ever seen, so she could be quite successful there. But, really? Mikasa? He never would have expected someone like her to be comfortable with that decision. He sure isn't, and he wasn't even the one kidnapped at the age of nine. He trusts Mikasa to draw the line somewhere, and doubts she'd go as far as to kidnap or do harm to innocents, but it's rugged out there in the criminal underworld. Or... at least he expects that it is.

As the two had walked back home, he argued with her more about it, but she didn't seem to budge, eventually countering that if he trusts her to fight titans then he should trust her here, and to that Eren had nothing to say, he just grumbled all the way to his bed where he sulked for about an hour.

And now he's here, near the dock of the Underground. Eren swipes at his forehead, his hand now slick with sweat, which only makes lugging the giant crate in his hands more difficult. He thinks it's full of potatoes, but, surprisingly enough, he doesn't know, and no one would tell him. He's been at this for hours, and it really isn't so bad compared to training with ODM gear with grueling intensity under the hot sun. Although, he's found that, depending on where you are in the Underground, it can either be extremely humid or extremely frigid, and the area he was in right now just so happened to fall under the former category.

Regardless, he's thankful for the relative simplicity of his tasks. He carries boxes and crates full of goods and puts them into storage areas, it's pretty simple stuff, and he's learned that people with his kind of muscle are less common than he thought.

As he makes his way to the large storage room, this one somehow kept quite a bit more cool than the other rooms in the building, he looks around confused. Fortunately, a voice echoes from the back of the room, one of a girl with a strange accent. "Come put this one in the back," she nearly shouts, startling the boy. He trudges over, noticing the girl squatted down and pushing a similarly sized box into the first row. The only opening Eren sees is one near the top, so with a grunt he hoists the large box up to the highest row, having to stretch his arms as far as they can go to reach it. He feels the cool air touch his bare abdomen, realizing that his shirt isn't big enough to allow him to stretch his arms. "Thanks again, Mikasa." he tries not to mutter.

The girl lets out a whistle as he finishes, and he turns to her with a confounded look on his face. "You're really something. Those are some nice muscles you've got," she comments, flashing him a smile. He notices she's missing a tooth on her right side, and her hair is a very messy red color. It's a lot like Sasha's, Eren thinks, if the ponytail was cut much shorter. She sports some freckles on her face, while wearing deep, amber eyes, the color of his mother's eyes, Eren notes. Overall, she looks awfully spry, and he guesses that he's around his age, which, in a way, is a sight for sore eyes.

"Huh?" he lets out, surprised and slightly disturbed by her bluntness. She only winks.

"Help me with this. It's empty but it'll still be hard for me to carry alone." She gestures to a nearby box, this one twice the length as the normal boxes. He nods.

"Where are we taking it?"

"Back to Henning, obviously."

"Henning?" he scrunches his brow. She looks at him with a deranged expression.

"You work here, right?"

He frowns. "Of course I work here."

"Then you've met him. He's the one who hired you."

Eren's eyes widen a bit. "Oh... I didn't know that was his name."

She pauses to stare at him, her eyes seemingly scrutinizing until she breaks out into a laugh. "Oh no... how much did he scam you?"

"What do you mean?" he's starting to grow annoyed at her obnoxious behavior.

"Well, if he didn't even bother to tell you his name, I'd guess that he probably thought he'd be able to get some cheap labor out of ya."

"Cheap labor?"

She sighs, shaking her head. "How much is he paying you?"

Though reluctant, he eventually shares. "Three bronze a day."

She soon begins to double over in laughter, clutching her stomach as she leans on the nearby wall for support. The sighs make Eren's patience tick as his features sharpen.

"What's the big deal?" Although he has a pretty good idea of why she's laughing so hard. As the girl wipes tears from her eyes she sighs.

"There is no way Henning is tricky enough to swindle you into accepting three bronze, you must be some kind of idiot!" she cries, laughter finding its way to her again.

"Oi, who the hell asked for your opinion?" he mutters indignantly, now frowning fully with hot headed anger.

"Really, you can't pay for a damn potato with that money. Haven't you ever used money for anything before?"

No, he hasn't, but he's not about to tell this girl that. "Of course I have!"

"Fine, whatever... but when you're starving on the streets, don't ask for my help." She shrugs, grabbing one end of the box and gesturing for him to grab another. He curses, handling the other end as they begin to walk. He's shocked by how light it is, even though he knew it was empty beforehand.

After a minute of walking, with Eren more than happy to not talk to this girl again, she raises her voice. "So... what's your name?"

He sighs. "Eren, Eren Jae-"

She turns her head to face him, lifting a hand and frantically shaking it at him. "Slow down, we don't do that here."

"Huh?"

"Last names. We all have 'em, but we don't stand much to gain from telling everyone we meet. You're just asking to be remembered by the gangs around here," she explains. Eren lifts his brows, surprised that she's bothering to even give him that much advice. "I'm Ingrid. It's nice to meet ya."

He's been awfully surprised by the nature of the people here, down in the Underground, but he can certainly say he never expected to actually meet someone down here. Though he's a long way from actually finding the girl pleasant in any substantial way, that's for sure.

"So what are you running from?" she asks abruptly, causing Eren to let out a gasp.

"Huh?" he asks again, this time on edge. "How did she know that? I can't trust people here, so that needs to stay a secret!"

She laughs. "You know. You're obviously not from here, and no one comes here willingly unless they have something to hide from." Her logic is sound, but it causes Eren to furrow his brows.

"What are you hiding from?" he inquires.

She smiles as she looks back at him. "Nothing. I was born here, and lived here all my life."

Suddenly, her demeanor, her accent, her disheveled state, it all starts to make a bit more sense. He allows himself to say the first thing that comes to mind. "Wow, I can't imagine living in this shithole all my life..."

"Oh, so you are from the surface!" she lets out loudly, as if she just made a grand discovery. Eren shoots his head around the block, eyeing the people around to see if any of them had gotten an earful. If they were to get arrested by the military, any hope of returning would be ruined, Eren reminds himself.

Ingrid seems to notice, waving her hand his way to show it's not important. "Ehh don't worry about it. A good chunk of the people here are from the surface, it's not that big of a deal."

"Oh."

"So, spill the beans. What are you running from?"

Eren frowns. "I thought I wasn't supposed to tell you that."

She chuckles. "You catch on quick. I was just seeing if I could turn you into the police, if your crimes are bad enough." She smirks at him.

"Huh?!" Eren gasps.

"Relax, that was a joke. You'll learn quick that there's no such thing as the police down here. All they do is guard the entrance, and maybe you'll catch one or two of them walking down the main street, not that they'll do anything if they see crime going on." She frowns imperceptibly, gazing at the stony ground they walk upon, and Eren finds his stomach twisting in anger.

"Really? That's pathetic..." though he stops himself. It annoys him that the Military Police have such a negligible presence here, though he shouldn't be surprised. He's known military incompetence since his days in Shiganshina, where the Garrison troops would do nothing but drink and play cards all day, and from the way Armin and his father always described it, the Military Police were much worse on a far larger scale.

Even then, though, he should actually be grateful for it. It's exactly why Mikasa ran here, right? Especially now that she's joining some kind of crime organization. It's largely to his benefit that things are so lenient down here.

Yet, he's Eren Jaeger. And he's not about to appreciate this kind of complacency and corruption.

---

Marco stands by the wall, head raised high, among two other rookies who seemed to have the misfortune of being placed down here. It was discouraging to say the least, but it appears that it's a necessary step. The corruption that ran rampant in the Military Police was far deeper than he could have ever imagined, despite Armin's warnings, and though he endeavored to do what he could to serve the crown honestly, it seems to have done nothing but landed him here. He knows what most would say to him now. "You're punching up too far, Marco. You can't fight against your superiors like this, look where it got you."

But he's far from given up. He was sickened by the constant bribery, sloth, and greed that took place within the military branch, and he knows that if the king truly knew of the corruption, he'd be appalled.

He sighs, twirling his coin in between his fingers. "You would have loved it here, Jean..."

Marco wonders how his best friend is doing in the Survey Corps. He wonders how Sasha and Connie are doing as well. Surprisingly, they had all decided to go into the Scouts, leaving only Reiner, Bertholdt, and Annie as familiar faces to accompany him to the MP. He supposes that it's for the best, as he truly thought Jean was going into the MP for the wrong reasons, and though the thought of him dying to a titan sickens Marco, if he's found purpose in his life, then who is he to judge?

They're probably fairing a lot better in their efforts than Marco anyways. He hasn't heard of them going on any expedition yet, but it has only been a week and a half since the induction ceremony.

Marco halts his thoughts as he hears heavy footsteps coming his way. He quickly puts his coin back in his front pocket and salutes, raising his head higher yet. The man who approaches is relatively short in stature, wearing the illustrious badge of a high officer. The man is balding as well, and clearly fattened on the high salary of a Military Police officer. He gives Marco a confused look.

"What are you doing?"

Marco lets out a light sound of confusion, looking to his right to see the two other rookies there not even bothering to salute. "If the regular Military Police dispense with military code, I wonder what the Underground MP are like."

"S-Sorry, sir."

The man only raises his eyebrows further "Is 'sir' not something we say down here, either?" he feels his heart fall at the possibility. Everything he's put so much pride into when it came to being a soldier is now wholly irrelevant.

He clears his throat. "My name is Konigsmann, I'm one of your superior officers." His voice is lax, though if Marco had to pinpoint it, he would say it's less out of laziness and more from exhaustion, which he finds strange. Surely this round man, severely lacking the musculature to do anything requiring physical effort, isn't doing much around here. "If you break the law, you'll be discharged from the Military Police and be executed. That is all."

Marco only blinks, having become used to simplistic orders given to him by his superiors. He intuits that he's simply meant to patrol the streets and make sure everything is in order, but with the evident lack of manpower, he sincerely doubts that that's possible. As the two other rookies shift away, Marco stares out the window into the vast expanse of the Underground city. From this angle, it looks quite magnificent. The giant stalactites loom over them in a nigh unnatural way, and the city itself strikes a strange balance of being excessively torched yet too dark at the same time. It's sheer size fills him with more dread than hope, however, and he knows this to be one of the least policed and most vile places within the walls.

He sighs yet again. Perhaps he's hit rock bottom in more ways than one.

---

Mikasa sits at the worn table, dividing out the amount of money they have left in her head, after having bought a small dinner for the both of them. She brings the spoon to her mouth, grimacing at the cold temperature of it. She's had worse, however, and she has to eat whether she likes it or not, so she forces it down regardless. She finds herself relieved that she bought him some potatoes rather than soup and bread for herself. That way, he doesn't have soup to get cold.

And it would have gotten cold, undoubtedly. Because he's still not here yet, and it makes her entire body buzz with a nervous pressure. That's why she's been counting money in her head to distract herself. She knows she can't be worried about Eren right now, not because it isn't warranted, but because there's not a great amount she can do about it.

Not a couple minutes after, thankfully, he walks through the door. She feels her heart rise back to its proper place, now that he's here again, and she rises from her seat.

"Eren," she lets out, and he sighs, wiping what looks to be sweat from his face.

"Sorry. I got lost."

"It's okay. I got some food for us." She sits back down, gesturing for him to take a seat across from her.

"Thanks..." and he sits. The two eat in comfortable silence for some time, and she notices that he's fiddling with his fingers a bit as he eats his potato. She knows it to mean he's conflicted about something, unsure of whether he should say it, so she coaxes it out of him.

"Are you feeling okay?"

"Oh, yeah... I was just thinking. Did you find a way to make any money yet?" she knows his tentativeness comes from the subject of her trying at a dangerous job, but she doesn't want to have that conversation again. Instead, she simply shakes her head.

"No luck yet."

He scoffs, likely at the way she used "luck," but she doesn't press it.

She continues. "It's fine, we don't need it yet. We can afford meals like this for another week." He nods, having nothing else to say, so she voices her own question. "What about you?"

Eren's face falls a tad. "I think I did, but apparently I'm not getting paid much. Three bronze a day."

Mikasa's eyes widen in surprise as she gasps. Was that even allowed? You can do next to nothing with that kind of money, not until you've saved up for a week or something, and even then that's only one or two meals.

"I know. I'm an idiot." His head droops down, from both his disheartened admittance and his physical exhaustion, and though Eren may be a little bit right in this regard, she still feels that compulsory need to make him feel better.

"No you're not. That's just the way things are around here. What's important is that you're doing something safe, Eren." Her eyes shine with urgency, hoping to convey to him how important it is to her that he's safe, and he seems to get the message.

"Yeah... all I'm doing is some transportation work, so there's nothing too dangerous about it."

And to that, she smiles. It's light, but it's genuine, and Eren picks up on it, smiling as well.

Once they're finished eating, Eren settles into bed, shaking the thin blanket to work off the dust that's accumulated since the start of the day, much to his confusion. He grimaces as he looks around the room, finally sighing when his eyes land on the window, which overlooks a chunk of the city.

Her chest tightens in guilt at the reminder of what she's done. He's here now, with nothing he can do to go back to the military. As much as he talks about "figuring something out," and as much as she acts as if that's a possibility, she truly has no idea where to begin with getting out of their situation, and she's not sure she wants to. Armin could be their key out of here, but for what, to go to the Scouts? And Eren's returned after she told everyone he was dead, isn't that alone enough to raise a few eyebrows? Even if they don't immediately jump to the conclusion that Eren is a titan, Eren himself will be confused as to why she ever said he was dead.

But she can't bring herself to regret the decision, either. Announcing his death concludes things very easily, allowing for the two to slip into the Underground and thrive there without much trouble.

She sighs as the thoughts race through her mind, walking over to the short drawer to pull her nightgown.

"Eren can't go back... he can't..." she resolves to herself, frowning resolutely as she slips out of her red shirt.

She needs him to stay, not just for his own good but for the good of everyone outside these walls.

"Mikasa...?"

His calm but confused voice jolts her out of her thoughts, and with wide eyes she looks at him, realizing she's shirtless. She instantly moves to cover her chest with her hands, even though it's already tightly veiled by white straps. Her face heats up in an instant, marring her cheeks with what's sure to be a profound red. "Sorry!" Shame paints her features as she realizes that she totally could have used the bathroom for this exact task, yet for once in her life didn't have the presence of mind to not strip in front of Eren of all people.

But he doesn't turn around, only keeping his eyes trained on her torso in what looks to be confusion and shock. Is he not embarrassed to see her like this? She knows they're close, but she can't remember the last time he's seen her bare stomach before, let alone her breasts, protected from his eyes only by a thin layer of cloth at the moment. It's just not something she's ever felt the need to show Eren, obviously.

As the seconds pass by with the two simply staring at each other with wide eyes, which feel like agonizing hours to Mikasa, he finally furrows his brows, sharpening his focus. "Where did you get those scars?!"

"...Huh?" is all she can manage, completely and utterly swept up in the situation of being exposed. She's seen him shirtless plenty of times, sure, but it's just different. That's what her mom and dad and aunt Carla always insisted on.

"Those scars, Mikasa. Shit..." he looks downright horrified, and she finally lowers her gaze to her abdomen. She gasps, realizing that, just like when Ymir noticed all those years ago, the scars of her past life haven't gone away.

He walks up to her slowly, and despite every part of her screaming for her to back away because of the intimacy, she can't. She can only stand there with eyes like saucers, staring into his own concerned eyes as he gently pushes her own arm away to reveal even more scars.

"How did you get these?" his eyes brim with fear, but she doesn't have half a mind to make any guesses as to what he could be thinking, she can only hear her own heart beat faster as he gets closer to her.

"Did these all come from Trost?" he ponders, and she faintly nods. But this, more than anything, appears to be the wrong answer, because his eyes start to flush with tears. And at the sight, Mikasa completely forgets about her position.

"Eren..." she lets out in worry as he viciously tries to fight back his cries.

"I'm so sorry, Mikasa... it's my fault... If I didn't get knocked out... dammit..." he says in between long breaths, successfully keeping his tears back. Her heart floods with love and pity.

"It's not your fault, Eren, it's not-"

But one of them is. There's one, on the right side of her navel, where she was wounded by another soldier, a Yeagerist. It was when her, Connie, Jean, Armin, Hanji, Levi, and the warriors attempted to save Kiyomi and take the flying boat. That... that was because of him...

Her heart stops as the memories flood back, and she has to fight back the nausea that bubbles up from her stomach. Before she can react, however, Eren wraps her up in a warm hug, and her heart goes from stillness to a flurry of beats in a matter of moments.

"You're still shirtless, Mikasa..."

But he doesn't care, he doesn't even seem to notice that she can feel his heartbeat better than she ever has, that she can feel his hands touch her bare back, the tickle of his breath on her exposed clavicle, the warmth of his arms wrapping around her entirety...

She pulls herself back, immediately covering herself up again with the nightgown she still has in her hands as she looks at him with big eyes. "Uh... I... umm, Eren... can I..." she gestures to the bathroom to her left, and with it Eren's eyes widen, as if the fact that she's shirtless to him for the first time finally flickered across his mind.

"Yeah, sorry..." his face heats up as he turns his head, and she walks into the cramped room, closing the door.

She can't believe that just happened.

---

"You know, I met someone at my job."

Mikasa perks up as she sits in her bed, looking to her right and giving Eren cautious eyes. "We shouldn't be trusting anyone down here, only each other," she warns.

Eren sighs. "I know that. It's just that she seemed friendly."

Mikasa's stomach quivers in a strange way at the words. "You can't trust her."

"Mikasa, calm down. Her name is Ingrid. She's a pain in the ass, but she taught me a lot about this place. And she's the same age as us."

The raven haired girl huffs, fiddling with the ends of the scarf she has yet to take off. She doesn't wear the red fabric to sleep often, but she sometimes likes to play with it when she can't, although she struggles to remember the last time she's done it with Eren in the room. For him, it's been about four years, but for her, it's been nearly a decade.

He's silent for a moment as he stares at the ceiling, laying down on his bed. "It's nice that you're here, Mikasa."

A light sound of surprise escapes her lips, and he takes it as an invitation to continue. "I hate it here, but you make it a little bit better. Ingrid lived here her whole life... I could never do that."

She looks back down, guilt hanging over her once again. To have him here with her, even though they share a worn down room in the most crime ridden city in Paradis, is a dream come true. She wouldn't want it any other way, but she knows it's a selfish feeling. It's that insistence to have him with her at all times that made him leave her in the first place, and because of it she simply doesn't know what to do.

"I like having you here too, Eren..." she tells him from the bottom of her heart.

---

Mikasa awakes, drenched in sweat.

She takes a long breath, but she feels it... she feels the uncontrollable shiver of her arms, the rising beat of her heart, and the words that echo in her head over and over again.

"You killed Eren. You killed him."

And for some reason she can't believe it. As if she hasn't lived three years with that knowledge, as if it were hitting her now, as she crumples in on herself on her bed, grabbing the scarf to muffle her whimpers.

"You killed him."

Why? Why is she remembering that again? What did she do to remind herself? And why is it so painful now?

"Mikasa!" Eren shouts, obviously hearing her soft cries.

"You killed him."

"Are you having another panic attack?" he asks, worry thick in his eyes. She nods into her scarf, nausea rocketing up into her throat as she struggles to breathe.

"Try thinking of your happy place, Mikasa..." he says, no doubt remembering some of the tips his father gave him all those years ago, but all she can do is look at him with soft eyes. That obviously isn't going to work. Eren is her happy place. But every comforting thought of him manages to get stained blood red by his future self, the eyes he gave her as she brought the sword to his throat languidly peeling at her flimsy emotional defenses.

"You killed him."

Mikasa looks at him, her heart rate spiking despite her frantic attempts to push it back down. But no amount of self control, no Ackerman blood can stop her from shaking now.

"You killed him."

Eren Jaeger. The boy who saved her. Who showed her the true beauty of the world amidst the horrible cruelty that took everything she loved out of her life. She put her own blades to his throat. Decapitated him. Of all the people she killed, so begrudgingly, it was all in an attempt to save him. And yet, in the end, he had to die all the same. And by her hands.

"You killed him."

"I-I'm..." hot tears begin to flood her eyes as she shrinks in on herself, soaking the scarf he gave her in her sorrow, her regret.

"Mikasa..."

"I'm so sorry... I'm so sorry..." she finally begins to sob, and it finally seems to drive him over the edge. Eren wraps her in the biggest hug he can muster, and she latches on like a magnet, clutching his shirt as hard as she possibly can, which, given the circumstances, isn't that hard. She doesn't care if he doesn't know what she means anymore, her soul shriveling up to expose the vulnerable little girl she's always been. "I... I-I didn't... want to. I didn't want to do it..." she squeaks. She has barely enough of a mind to keep herself from fully confessing what she's done right then and there. She wants to tell him so badly... so much that the words come out in little whimpers, unmitigated by her cries.

If Eren is confused, he doesn't show it. Though from Mikasa's point of view she can't see him, she feels the steady shake of his heart, and she hears his light sniffles.

"Please believe me..." the words wisp away as they leave her tongue, lighter than a feather. "Please... Please..."

She trembles in his arms.

"You killed him."

"You're a slave."

"He hates you."

"He cares about you."

She doesn't know which is worse. She doesn't know which fills her with more dread, more anguish. Did he care about her? Did he love her? Or did he hate her? Either way, the pain of ending his life pierces her heart all the same. She doesn't know if she's allowed to cry in his arms, if she's supposed to be angry with him, or sad, or thankful, or anything. She just wants Eren. That's all she knows and it's all she cares about.

She feels him smooth a soft hand across her back, and the reminder of his presence allows her to take a deeper breath. She wishes he could hug her all the time.

But... "You killed him."

"Please forgive me..."

She doesn't care if killing him was the right thing to do. She doesn't care that it was only through his unexplainable actions that she ever had to do it in the first place. She doesn't care that he asked her to forget about him. She's so sorry.

"There's nothing to forgive. It's okay Mikasa, you're here and you're safe. I won't let anything happen to you," he continues to rub the side of his hand across her back. Up and down, up and down. She lets her tears wet his shirt. He didn't like that brown one anyway.

"He's wrong. There's so much he has to forgive..." She should have paid more attention. Been more tender to him. Asked him if he was okay even more. And once again, guilt tears at her soul. "If you told him you loved him he would have stayed..." but even now she can't. She cannot tell him how she feels, because his own voice resurrects that ancient, permanent insecurity.

"Mikasa, I've always hated you."

He hates her. And yet she can still do nothing but cry in his arms. "How can you be so weak?" she wonders about herself. She's never been strong. All physical might is thanks to her Ackerman strength, and any emotional power she ever had depended on him. She's so pitiful... so pathetic.

But Eren is hugging her, and she'd be the biggest fool in this world to reject that, so she remains. And, despite his obliviousness, his words soothe her shaky spirit. Her wails slow into sobs, which die down into soft whimpers and sniffles as she keeps a part of his shirt securely bundled in her hand. "Don't leave me..." she finishes, hiccupping into his chest.

Eren only presses a hand behind her head, fingers weaving into her raven hair. "Never..." he says with a powerful conviction, one she could only ever hear out of the mouth of Eren Jaeger. She loves him so much.

They stay that way for a long time, Mikasa slowly but surely calming down from her panic attack. Eventually, likely because his knees have been pressed into the floor for an indiscernible amount of time, he shifts his weight, alerting Mikasa. She raises her head, staring at him with curious, doe eyes, and his face explodes in pity at the sight.

"D-Do you think you can sleep?" he asks quietly. Though no amount of calming head rubs or soothing words could stop the sinking feeling that enters into her stomach. She knows it's childish, but she simply can't help the dread of being separated from Eren's hug from seeping into her.

As he looks into her eyes, though, he seems to notice her unhappiness at the prospect. After a slight pause, his face heats up as he focuses on her left ear, cautiously avoiding her eyes. "Do you want me to stay?"

Mikasa fights back a gasp at the question. When they were young and thought nothing of it, Eren would always ask that question to Mikasa when she awoke them both with her nightmares. It was his own way of asking if she wanted to cuddle with him, and it never failed to make her feel better. They haven't done it for years, a whole decade if Mikasa counts her previous timeline. So, the surprise and soulful glee that beams from her heart is truly profound. She quickly nods her head, any sense of embarrassment being discarded long before this moment, and so they make the trek to his bed.

It's only a couple feet, but they hold hands all the way there. Once again, she has no idea whether it's of his own accord, or if it's just to comfort Mikasa. Who knows, maybe she's the only one clutching his hand and he's not even bothering to reciprocate, though the tight pressure that wraps around her hand leads her to believe otherwise.

They sink into the creaky bed, the space barely enough to hold the both of them. If anything, their proximity is lesser than when she was pressed into him as they hugged, but it feels so much closer. Because now they're sharing a bed. Now they're face to face, so close that she could kiss him... if she wanted to. She remembers having more space when they were kids, though they have grown since, and this bed certainly isn't any bigger than Eren's old bed, so it's not surprising.

And even Eren, as dense as he is, knows that this is intimate territory. The blush on his cheeks is bright, surpassed only by his eyes, which still shine with concern. "Feel better...?" he asks lightly, and despite the furious blush on her own face that he must have noticed by now, she nods.

She's so scared, but his warmth is enough to melt away it all, if only for a night. That's what he's always been to her. Warmth. Sometimes it's the fire of passion, sometimes it's just a warm, comforting glow. She loves it all the same.

"I love you, Eren." The words never escape her lips.

---

woah. Why yes I wrote that last scene while crying how could you tell?

That was by FAR my longest chapter yet. Let me know what you all thought! I had an absolute joy writing it, and when I really get into my writing sprees I tend to just overwrite to the nth degree, so apologies if this is simply too long for you guys. I even considered splitting it into two parts, but then I felt bad for making you guys wait an extra week only for me to go and do that. So how was the EM fluff? Was it enjoyable? This won't be the last of it, not even close, but this was probably my heaviest EM chapter yet, so I'm eager to know your thoughts. As always, have a nice day! -Y