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

17. Lawless

See you Later, Eren Chapter 17

Title: Lawless

Okay it's not even Sunday in MY time zone anymore, I'm just very late with this one, even by my horrible standards. I'm so sorry about that! It was definitely a struggle working on the chapter this week. Who knew the week before school would be super busy :/ On the bright side, university starting for me this week means this is probably the last late upload you guys will get! Of course, that comes with the drawback that my uploading may not be as consistent as usual. There may be more frequent intermittent uploads, all of which will probably be on Sunday. I hope that isn't a deal breaker for any of you guys, but I definitely have to put my studies over this fanfic, so that's what I'll do. My mental health is also a factor, as writing this chapter was a real struggle for me, to the point where it wasn't that enjoyable near the end. I'm considering permanently moving to a biweekly schedule in conjunction with my school year, because I can only imagine the work load will be even more difficult to manage when I have this, work, AND university.

But that is still very much in the air. It will probably depend on how I feel as I write the next chapter, so for chapter 18, don't be surprised if it comes out next week but also don't be surprised if it takes me another, because I really want to complete it to my utter satisfaction, because I'm getting tired of releasing chapters I'm not super proud of. 16 was a notable exception, but recently I haven't felt as good about the chapters I've been releasing. It seems that you all have been thoroughly enjoying them, and that's what's important, but I'm afraid the quality of my work will decline if I continue to write chapters that are not to my standard.

I'll also mention that many scenes of this chapter were written late in the night, as that was the only free time I had on many days this past week. Me being me, I of course worry and somewhat expect that the quality of the chapter was dealt a blow as a result of my effort not being all there some of the time, so I'd love to know what you guys think, and as always, enjoy! -Y

PS just to warn you guys this is long as hell (longer than ch 16).

Response to The r3wr1t3r: Haha yeah that was quite a big chapter, and this one is surprisingly no different! I definitely don't plan on making that the norm, as, if for no other reason, writing that many words in the span of a week is unimaginably draining. I'm glad you liked the paths dream as well! Yeah that last line really spoke to me, I like the idea of future Eren endeavoring to keep Mikasa safe and secure across time, because he loves her so much. Yess they're in the Underground, I always thought the area was a fascinating part of the AoT world, but we didn't get to see it much in show. I'm glad you appreciated the way I wrote Eren's reaction and Mikasa's guilt! I know you were anxiously wondering how Eren was going to react after the events of Chapter 14, so I'm happy to see I did it justice in your eyes! It was a challenge to convey the nuance of the situation, with Eren both wanting and not wanting to be here for different reasons and Mikasa's guilt tearing her up on the inside, even though she doesn't regret what she's done. Haha yeah their predicament only grows worse, will they rejoin the military? Will they stay down there for good? Only time will tell hehe. I'm definitely trying to set up the pieces of this story so they'll coalesce soon, but I plan on taking it in a direction I hope you'll find interesting. Mikasa's feelings towards Eren are extremely muddled right now. She loves him and can't help it, but she was hurt beyond words at what he said, and right now her primary solution, like with many of her problems, is to just put it in the back of her mind and ignore it. But I hope with this chapter and the chapters to come, I progress things between the two at a satisfying pace. So, as always, please enjoy!

Reponse to hamach: Don't worry about your English, it's so nice to hear from you. Thank you so much for calling it the best fanfiction of Attack on Titan, that really means a lot! I can't believe I'm being compared to the likes of Stephen King or J.R.R. Martin haha. I certainly wouldn't go that far in my praise myself, but to hear it from you makes me so proud of what I've written. Creativity is oftentimes a brutal process, and I definitely felt that as I pushed this chapter out, but I understand your thoughts on Isayama's ending. As I've come to begrudgingly accept the added pages as canon, I find myself agreeing with you about the ending as well. But don't worry, I'll do my best to keep myself level headed as I write my ending, and I hope I don't disappoint when that day comes!

Response to Damascus Steel: Thank you very much for the great review! I totally get needing a good fanfic after the absolute emotional wreck that was the manga. Wow, I stood out from the top three pages? That means so much to hear you say that! It really instills me with a lot of confidence about what I've been writing. Yeah, rushing things is a problem I've seen a lot of fics have and while it isn't always a bad thing, I am glad that when I worry about the pacing, it's because I've stretched out the chapter rather than making it too short, and I tend to prefer longer chapters. I completely agree with your thoughts about the OP main character in time travel fics as well. It's an easy trap to fall into, because having complete knowledge of future events makes it seem as if, at first glance, that they are in an easy position tor remedy every single mistake they made in their past without making any new ones in the new timeline. But, especially with a character like Mikasa, that just isn't the case. I really wanted to lean into an exploration into the many characters of attack on titan, chiefly Mikasa, instead of simply making a story that answered the question of "what if Mikasa went back in time?" A concept like that is interesting at the start, but if I fail to incorporate suspense or drama, it would get boring quickly. I'm glad you like how I write Mikasa as well! If anything, I got the impression that my interpretation of her kind of weighed towards the emotional side. Seriously, I've written so many scenes of her crying and I plan to write so many more haha. But still, I'm happy with the way I write both her and Eren, and it's good to see my readers are happy with it too. Keeping the characters accurate to their manga selves remains a very high priority for me. I'm so happy you loved chapter 16! I was quite pleased with how it turned out, and the way you describe how it made you feel makes me even more proud! This upcoming chapter may not be my best iteration, I feel, but I hope you'll still find a great deal of enjoyment out of it!

Response to dareaderreads: Thanks so much! I'm not really sure where that ability comes from, but it brings such a smile to my face to hear it! She's the main character, and her PTSD at the horrible events that have been inflicted on her is honestly some of the saddest stuff AoT has to offer. Oh haha no Mikasa would have next to no luck living outside the walls. Her ODM gear would run out of steam in short order, and then her and Eren are dead meat, unless she wants to tell him about his titan. I'm so glad you enjoyed the chapter, and I hope you enjoy this equally long one!

---

"Headaches?"

Eren turns his head. It's him again, the old man. He's sure of it.

"A disease unique to the Ackerman clan? I haven't heard that from the titan research society or Mr. Ksaver." He wears glasses here, juggling a lone ball in his hand. "A baseball." The word creeps into Eren's mind, and he has no idea why. What's a baseball? What is the base part supposed to mean?

Though Eren's first thought was that this dream was similar to the one he had not long ago, back with his future self, he quickly realized that quite a few things were different here. For one, there's no "future Eren" to be found, and the man to his left is talking to him specifically. Additionally, the man's hair is blond this time, rather than the snowy gray of the dream he had not long ago, and it's cut short. At first glance, he struggles to even put together that the man here and the old man he saw in his last dream are the same person. But for some strange, elemental reason, he knows for a fact that it is.

Eren's different, too. In the last dream, he was unequivocally himself, it was something he just knew to be true. Now, he can't say that that's the case at all. He feels the uncomfortably tight press of bandages along his left eye, the slight poke of his long, disheveled hair, and if it weren't for the support he has cradled under his left arm, he feels like he'd fall over in an instant. Because his leg is missing.

Initially, he had been frightened by the sight, along with the painful lack of a functioning second eye, but as he looked to his left and saw the man who stalks his dreams, his heart fell back into a relatively snug place. "You're dreaming again, so you know it's not real," he had to repeat to himself multiple times.

For a while now, this man had been talking about titans, though not in a way that made any sense. It felt like he was switching from talking about humans and titans every few minutes, and Eren has long given up on trying to keep track of what he was saying. He's already forgotten a decent chunk of it, as is the nature of dreams.

But... Ackerman? Like Mikasa Ackerman? What does she have to do with it? And what does the man mean by "clan?" Weren't her parents killed when he was nine?

Why is he talking about it now, too? Eren feels like he was the one who brought it up, but at the same time he doesn't remember saying a single damn thing throughout this esoteric dream.

What truly concerns him, however, is the notion of a disease. His heart spikes when the man mentions it, but Eren either doesn't have the strength to move, or some unknowable force compels him to stay, standing as he is.

He continues. "Records do show Ackermans awakening their power when their survival instincts are triggered, but... 'ingrained behavior?' To protect a 'host?' I'm pretty sure there's no such thing."

Eren cannot furrow his brows, but he finds himself wishing he could. "Survival instincts? Power? What power to Ackermans have?"

It's just a dream, he remembers.

But the words stick in his mind. Power... survival instincts... he knows exactly where she first used those.

And he's elsewhere.

He's chained to a pole, and to his sides sits a vast audience of people, most of whom wear unsettled, even disturbed faces. And in front of him sits an old man in a high seat, reminding Eren of some sort of courtroom, though far grander than anything he's ever laid his eyes on. Before he can even voice his concerns, a man to his right continues to talk. "Can we really trust him with the fate, funds, and manpower of mankind?"

"What...?" his emerald eyes widen.

The audience begins to talk amongst themselves. "Yeah! He's probably a titan who infiltrated us disguised as a child!"

"A titan? Are these people insane?! I'm smaller than them and strapped to this pole, how could I possibly be a titan?!"

But there's a particular face among the crowd, a man with thick shadows under his eyes, and a deeply creased brow. He lifts a shaky hand and points at something to Eren's left, his voice coming out in an accusatory fear. "Her too!"

Eren's heart plummets, as, for a reason he cannot possibly fathom, he knows exactly who the man's referring to. He whips his head to the left to see Mikasa in the crowd, eyes wide with surprise. "How can we be sure she's human?!" he shouts.

"That's right! We should dissect her just in case!" another voice adds.

Eren feels a jolt in his soul, and a deep, primordial force sharpening his features into one of extreme fury. "Dissect?! Mikasa!?" and as he stares into her eyes, he can't help but see the same inky pools that stared at him with surprise and warmth as he wrapped his scarf around her. Despite being chained up, powerless, and displayed to an audience of people he doesn't know, he wants to shout to the entire world to leave Mikasa alone, ready to fight and kill if he has to.

"Wait! Maybe I am a monster, but she has nothing to do with that!" he lets out, a desperate tinge to his voice. "Nothing at all!"

But the man fights back. "As if we could believe you!"

"It's a fact!" he shouts, tears of dread forming in his eyes, the thought of Mikasa being killed because of him making him want to rip himself free of these chains with all his might.

"You're defending her? She must be one of you!"

"NO!" he screams, tugging, pulling on the chains with all the power of Eren Jaeger. He pulls and pulls, until the sweat of his wrists pushes him just a little further. He keeps pulling... he keeps pulling.

"...But it's not as if you saw it all, right?" the old man returns, but Eren doesn't care, he keeps pulling on his chains. The chains that keep him from that sight, the chains that keep him from saving Mikasa... from saving those he loves. "You did not know you wouldn't be able to use the power of the founder here, for example. In other words... you're as powerless as ever."

His heart rumbles, fighting, screaming for him to keep moving forward, even if it kills him. Everything he's ever done is for this, he knows it, as he stares at the incomprehensible tree of light in the horizon, overlooking the tremendous, infinite fields of sand. The courtroom is long gone but he doesn't even have the headspace to notice. He shouts as the chains dig into his skin, blood oozing out, but he keeps moving forward, and eventually, they break. The cool metal slices off his thumbs, but it comes undone all the same, so he runs.

He runs. As fast as his legs can carry him, sprinting to the girl that sits, the girl that looks like Armin, the girl he doesn't know.

Eren doesn't know a lot of things. But he keeps moving forward, because there, he will find the answer. The true answer.

"You've always known..." a voice reaches out to him. It's his own. He touches the girl's shoulder, and everything goes black.

...

And after what feels like two thousand years, his ears catch a voice. The single most calming voice he's ever heard, the one that fills his heart with excitement, sorrow, regret, and desperation.

"Eren..." Mikasa whispers.

He sees her, sitting on the back of some machination, wearing the most adorable ponytail he's ever seen. They're all here. Connie, Sasha, Jean, Armin, and Mikasa. But he can only stare at her as the hazy mist of a dream fills the sky. She blushes at him, and he blushes back.

"That's not true," Mikasa says.

He sits on a bed, the glow of the evening sun casting itself through the warm room. He feels at rest, as if all his fighting could be finished if he just sat here, because a pair of soft hands are clutching his own. Mikasa, with an appearance he recognizes intimately, leans over the bed.

"Eren, listen... I need to tell you something."

The man, throwing his baseball up and down, talks again. "Listen, Eren. What I think... is that there's no true reason, or ingrained behavior, or compelled instinct."

"You should ask her about it. I know she'd have a better answer than that." Krista's words ring through his dazed mind. No... he is no longer a mind, he's just a soul. A soul that wanders infinity, exploring deeply familiar moments he's never experienced, searching for the touch, the gaze, the presence of a certain scarf clad, raven haired girl.

"She just likes you so much... that she'd snap a titan's neck for you." The man says.

But Mikasa herself stares back at him, her beautiful eyes reflecting the brilliance of the full moon. "I care about you. You saved me that day... you gave me a home again, you gave me warmth again. Please... please believe me... you'll always be my home, Eren."

Home. Mikasa is his home. She has to live.

"You've always... been at my side," she tells him with tears in her eyes. Now they sit in a field, titans surrounding them from every direction, and despite having no equipment to fight against them, he doesn't run. All he does, all he cares to do, is stare into her eyes as the world goes in slow motion. "You showed me... how to live with purpose. Thank you."

Mikasa looks down with a smile on her face. Even though they're about to be eaten, she's never looked happier. She wraps her small hand around her scarf. "And you... you wrapped this scarf around me. Thank you."

She's never looked more beautiful. She's never looked more at peace. She's never looked more precious. And she leans her head closer to him, tears of happiness cascading down her eyes. He looks at her soft, pink lips, and his heart swells. "What is she about to do...?"

His heart only continues to swell, and with it he finally understands exactly why he keeps moving forward. There are many reasons, but the one that's paramount in his mind at the moment is a simple one. It's her smile...

He wants to protect her smile.

He blinks. She's gone. In her stead is a sight that makes his insides blister and pop in an agonizing, hideous pain. Millions of Colossal Titans, as far as the horizon stretches, screams echoing out across time and space, and in the very center sits death itself. A corpse, dangling by the threads of fate. Eren broke free of his chains, and for what? To behold this abominable sight?

He's so small compared to them. He's an ant, nothing more. Everything he's ever thought, everything he's ever loved, none of it makes the tiniest, most infinitesimal of differences. Eren knows it for a fact, because he stands in front of a house... his house, and his own mother is powerless to move.

Eren takes his bloody hands and pulls on the beam of wood trapping her, lifting it with all the might of Eren Jaeger. But he can't even lift a log of wood. He looks into his mother's teary eyes, and the realization buries him into the rumbled ground. Mom cannot be saved. The Colossal Titans are coming.

"Mom... I'm sorry... I can't..." he whispers through thick, desperate tears.

And the giant red foot crushes them both. Faster than the blink of an eye.

...

The screams stop. The birds chirp. The wind blows through his long hair. He's back where he started, sitting beside the small house talking to the strange man with glasses.

"Hm? How will you respond?" he asks.

How will you respond...

...

"Eren... why are you crying?" she asks, by that tree on a hill.

---

Eren wakes up with a gasp, his heart beating rapidly in his chest. Immediately, he recognizes the cracked ceiling that stares back at him, and he remembers. "Right... I'm in the Underground." But what he quickly notices is that the chilly air he's so used to attacking him in this house is absent, replaced instead by a soothing warmth. At the reminder, a shaky sigh escapes his lips as he looks to his left. Right next to him on his bed sits his best friend, the girl he's known for six years and lived with in some form for almost all of that time. Mikasa Ackerman.

She's still asleep, which means his nightmare didn't wake her up. Good. As his heart rate settles, he fruitlessly tries to recall the contents of his dream, what made him so scared, but he comes up relatively empty. He remembers the dream man, the one who keeps showing up despite Eren having no idea who he is. He remembers the Colossal Titan... his mother... and Mikasa. He lets out a quiet huff, not pleased with what his dream had to offer. It's the same type of stuff he dreamed about after the fall of Shiganshina, when his mother's death and the loss of his home were still painfully fresh in his mind. Why did it all show up again?

And he feels like he's missing something as well, like there was more to that dream than what he can immediately recollect. But he learned long ago to not harp on dreams. He learned it when he was an orphan, struggling with nightmares every night. Mikasa tried to help him, because she was good at fighting back against the nightmares thanks to all her years of experience. While he wanted nothing of it, quickly ignoring her advice and shouting at her to not treat him like a weakling, he supposes he took some of it to heart.

"Breathe, Eren. It doesn't matter what was there. What matters is that you have to find a way out of here, and you have to keep Mikasa safe..."

Mikasa. Eren thinks that she might not be as good at fighting nightmares as he once thought. He remembers when she was twelve, when he awoke to see her a sobbing mess, and tried to comfort her throughout the night. And, of course, whenever she would get actual panic attacks, like that night on the mountain, or last night, the tears would be profuse. He wonders if something changed when she was twelve, something traumatic that happened at that specific time which caused her to start having panic attacks. Or perhaps he was too busy wallowing in his own sadness to notice at the time, and she's always been this way.

It doesn't matter. She could cry every day, or she could never shed a tear in her life. Neither would make Eren want to stop comforting her. Because she's Mikasa. She's warm in his bed, and she helped him fall asleep faster than any amount of time spent counting sheep could. As he thinks, though, he has to fight a blush that crawls onto his face, even though there's no one here to notice it.

They're actually sleeping in the same bed again. If it were in any other situation, he would have been far too embarrassed to ask. After all, they're older now, they shouldn't need to find comfort in each other in such a juvenile way. At least, that's what he always told himself during his nights as a trainee, when the nightmares would keep him awake and the shadow of a thought entered into his mind: to go to the girls lodge, find Mikasa, and let her hug him. He always shoved that thought away, because that's not the way to act as a soldier, but seeing Mikasa as vulnerable and scared as she was last night made him willing to do anything, and he can't say he regrets asking her to sleep with him.

He can feel her warmth radiate through their clothes and onto his skin, he can see the tiny creases of her face as she sleeps, he can hear the sound of her softly breathing. His heart flutters as he hears those sounds, a wave of nostalgia hitting him. She doesn't snore, but... that's right, she certainly isn't dead quiet when she sleeps either. There are occasional whimpers, low and high hums, and even the odd word. But he never found it annoying, it was just another quirk of Mikasa's.

She's also touchy, the sight of her still clutching his sleeve as she rests reminding him of the fact. Eren never really understood it as a kid, why Mikasa enjoyed holding his hand, touching his shoulder, and maintaining as much contact as she could when they slept in the same bed. It was strange because she was completely different with just about every other person she knew. She didn't even touch his mom as willingly as she touched him, but now he understands why. It's because he saved her, because she cares about him.

She seems to have toned it down now, though. They respect each other's space in the small bed, with nothing but their hips physically touching the other. But she holds his sleeve like a rope suspended over a chasm, as if it were the only thing stopping her from plummeting back into her nightmares, her traumatized mind. He gets the feeling that if she were to somehow let go of his arm as she slept, she'd awake not long after. He can't believe that, had he seen this one or two years ago, he would have gotten angry, thinking that she held his arm out of an insistence to keep him safe.

He chuckles. "She's not doing it for your sake, Eren. She knows you don't need to be held... She just wants to hold you." For a reason he can't pinpoint, he feels like his dream suggests that as well...

And he suddenly remembers. She had thanked him... for wrapping that scarf around her.

He smiles, his heart warming with a profound fondness for his best friend. Unfortunately, it's quickly soured as he realizes that he doesn't remember when she actually said those words. His stomach tumbles a bit in guilt, knowing that the event must have been extremely important to her, because she very rarely opens her heart to such an extent, and he can't even recall where or when it took place.

"You remember her words. That's what's important."

Still, he feels bad. But wallowing in guilt isn't going to do much for him, and he knows he should try and get some more sleep if he can manage. Though that doesn't seem terribly feasible at the moment, considering how his nightmare has left him far too shaken up.

He looks out the window, though not from a very good angle due to where he sits, and squints at the cracks in the rocky ceiling to see if there's any sunlight. He still hasn't mastered the technique the denizens of the Underground use to tell the time, but he knows that it isn't hard to tell that it's daytime when the sunlight beams through the cracks. The problem is times like these, when he knows it must be sometime in the morning, but he has to determine the exact amount of sunlight to know whether it is still far too early or not. After all, there are no songbirds in the Underground. He sits up further, ready to get out of bed and gaze out the window at a more helpful angle, but he's stopped.

He feels the force on his arm grow greater as he looks back at a sleeping Mikasa, vehemently holding onto Eren's sleeve.

"Erehh..." she lets out quietly, eyes still comfortably closed, indicating that she's still asleep. He completely fails to bite back an amused smile at the sound, it's just far too cute...

His heart jumps as he realizes his own thoughts. "Cute...?! Eren, snap out of it!" and his blush only grows brighter as he feels an annoying number of butterflies in his stomach. Cute is what you call a small cat when it sneezes. Cute is what all the boys in the cadet corps called Krista. He was one who never bothered to call Krista cute, because killing titans was all he was worried about.

And suddenly, he wants to escape any kind of non-titan related thoughts, so he pulls at his arm again, but her strength is too great. She keeps her hold, and lets out yet another sound.

"Ereh." It's the same sound. This time, though, it's more authoritative, and there's a slight furrow in her eyebrows and a frown on her face. She's still asleep, but Eren's heart only beats faster, the butterflies only grow in intensity, and he feels his heart swell faster than his head can keep up, not even knowing his own feelings at the moment, just that he wants to escape his confused emotions. In a knee jerk reaction, he yanks his arm.

She opens her tired eyes, blinking a few times as the frown and sharp brows instantly dissipate into groggy confusion, and that stubborn heart of Eren's falls low into his gut. "Eren, you woke her up!" his shoulders slump in shame, not eager to tell Mikasa why she was awoken by a sudden pull at her arm.

"Eren...?" she says it right this time, though now that he's really listening to it, he realizes that she's never been stellar at pronouncing the "n" of his name. Why does that fact warm his heart so much? Why does he find it the most adorable thing ever?

She lets go of his arm, instantly sitting up with him, but Eren can't manage to avoid staring in her eyes despite his embarrassment.

They don't say a word. Mikasa, likely because she's still processing what's going on, but Eren, because it's far easier to get lost in her charcoal blue eyes than talk while the butterflies are so thick in his stomach. Eventually, though, he stutters out the first words that come to mind. "Sorry... I didn't mean to wake you up."

She's quick to shake her head. "It's okay. What time is it?"

"I don't know. I can't really tell down here." he looks down, feeling like a bit of an idiot for waking her up for something as trivial as this. She seemed so peaceful as she slept... and he went and ruined it. He sees her squint her eyes out the window, face relaxing after a matter of seconds.

"It's not even morning yet," she tells him.

Eren sighs, completely unable to understand how she can tell the time but trusting her judgement. But neither of them slink back into the bed, they simply sit, looking everywhere but at each other. A silent question hangs in the air, one that Eren is having a surprisingly hard time addressing. Now that they're both awake... is she going to go back to her bed? That's what they agreed on, right? She just wanted to sleep with Eren because she was having a panic attack, and now she's clearly better.

But Eren finds that he doesn't want to ask that question. He can't fathom why, but the thought of her leaving makes him feel cold. "It doesn't matter. She'd just be a few feet away in another bed..." he tells himself, but even that sounds unfair. He wants her here.

And the butterflies grow. And she stares at him with curious eyes. And the butterflies flutter faster. "Um..." the word tumbles out of his mouth, and he scratches the back of his head.

"What?" she asks innocently, and he can't look at her for very long before his face heats up again.

"...Do you want to keep sleeping here?" he manages to get out. Why is it so much harder now? He felt a little awkward asking last night, sure, but this is much worse. There are no tears to drown out the heat of his cheeks, there's no pressing concern to which sleeping together is an obvious solution. Now he has to ask for no reason other than that he just doesn't want to stop. He likes being near her.

He's not an idiot, though. When they were twelve, it was different, it didn't mean anything. Now they're fifteen, and Eren knows a lot more about being with girls. He knows why people get together and marry now, why they kiss, and he even has a pretty good idea of what they do to make kids. All of the romantic talk in his trainee days never interested him in the slightest, and he wants to think that he's the same now, but he knows what it means to sleep in the same bed with a girl now, so... so...

"Yes..." she lets out in a whisper, and Eren's chest crescendos. What is he so worried about?

He looks at her eyes, those dark little things, and realizes that it was never about any of that. This is Mikasa. This isn't some random girl he's sharing a bed with, some girl he has a crush on. When he thinks about what it means to have a crush, he imagines the boys going on about Krista, or Sandra, or any of the other popular girls they knew. What he feels for Mikasa can't even compare. What he has with her is a friendship, a bond that's survived thick and thin. She's his home. And he knows that to her...

"Don't leave me..." she had told him through incessant cries the night prior.

And his blush leaves him. He grabs her hand with a newfound resolve, pulling them both down. Eren doesn't even have to tug her down, because Mikasa seems to melt to his touch, her head landing on the pillow with a soft thud. Letting go of her hand doesn't even cross his mind, which is just as well, because her grip doesn't indicate she'll be letting go anytime soon.

All Eren can comprehend is the steady beat of his heart, the comforting glow that rises further when he tugs the blanket back over their bodies. The warmth reaches into his soul, and they stare at each other, both with soft, passionate eyes.

Seconds turn into minutes, and neither of them break their gaze. It's not uncomfortable; They both look at each other because they have nothing to say, and don't want to close their eyes. The awkwardness doesn't help, though. A part of it feels like if he were to close his eyes, he'd be too comfortable with the situation. Which is weird, because he should feel comfortable. It's Mikasa after all.

"It's fine, Eren. She's still tired since you woke her up, so you're letting her get her rest. It'll go back to normal tomorrow night." The last thought pits his heart against his head. Does he want it to go back to normal...?

It doesn't matter, he'll cross that bridge when he gets there.

"Did you sleep well?" he asks, curiosity painting his voice.

She nods, humming lightly. "I slept well. Thank you, Eren." He knows she's referring to letting her sleep with him, and it's nice to know she liked it just as much as he did.

"It's okay. I wish you didn't get those panic attacks." He thinks back to her words, how she apologized over and over for a reason Eren hasn't the faintest clue over. She didn't do anything wrong... in fact, Eren struggles to think of anything she could have possibly done that would warrant such a heartbreaking apology from her. She "didn't want to do it?" What's that supposed to mean? He has a number of guesses. Maybe it's about her parents, how she might feel guilty about their deaths. He remembers one nightmare she had when they lived in Shiganshina. Eren was out with his father, doing something he can't even remember, and they arrived home to find his mom comforting a crying Mikasa, who was apologizing profusely to her dead mom and dad. Eren had to hug her a lot that night, but it seemed to work, just like this time.

She hums in agreement again, making that face she always does when Eren mentions certain things. Those wistful eyes force him to hold back a frown. It's not necessarily her fault, but he feels like she isn't telling him everything, which makes it a lot harder to make her feel better. He's long given up trying, though. Hell, maybe there really isn't anything, and Eren's just spectacularly poor at reading her face.

A small hair falls past her eyes, obstructing her vision. He sees her blink, noticing it, but instead of removing the hand that's intertwined with his or using the other one that tugs on the blanket, she ignores it, letting her eyes be shielded by the little strands. For a strange reason, the sight bugs Eren more than it should. Her inky strands, no matter how small, are keeping him from fully seeing her eyes the way he wants to. With a complete lack of forethought, he reaches his hand out to brush them out of the way, tucking them behind her ear. Her eyes are wide, and there's a pink tint to her cheeks, not that Eren really understands why. But as the seconds pass by, he realizes that he doesn't have any desire to take his hand away.

His fingers twirl the soft locks, and a pang of nostalgia hits his chest, remembering the first time he had complimented Mikasa on her hair. She had lit up like a firefly. And now here they lay, and he's so clearly showing his appreciation for her hair again, and her cheeks are pink. Eren's thoughts travel to their younger selves, her long hair blowing with the wind as she ran next to him. He really liked her longer hair, but he really likes her haircut now, too.

It looks less girly, Eren thinks. A haircut fit for a soldier. And yet, unlike his own hair, it's still long enough to fall past her eyes. He bites back a chuckle at the thought, realizing that Mikasa probably didn't know what she was doing when she first cut her hair. It's as if she didn't know she was supposed to cut the hair in front of her face shorter than the rest, resulting in a clump of strands always sitting in between her eyes. He likes it, though. It's purely Mikasa's.

"I'm sorry I asked you to cut your hair..." he recalls how Jean had complimented her on her hair as she was leaving the mess hall, three years ago. He doesn't know why the scene made him so upset. No, actually, he does. Jean obviously had a stupid crush on Mikasa. Why couldn't he like Krista? Everyone seemed to be head over heels for her, even Ymir, but of all people, Jean had to be the one to gawk at Eren's best friend, his home, his...

Mikasa nuzzles her head deeper into the pillow, and in the process his hand smooths across her hair. She seems to like it though, as she closes her eyes and lets out a contented breath through her nose. A part of him expects her to fall asleep right there, in which case he'd have to tackle the question of whether to remove the hand that's now practically settled on her cheek, but fortunately, she responds.

"It's okay. I prefer it this length."

Eren raises his eyebrows. He certainly didn't know that, but he'll be sure to make a mental note of it. "She prefers it that length."

She prefers it that length.

"Why are you crying?" the deep voice of Eren Jaeger calls, to a woman sitting on a bench by a cabin in the mountains, with the hair she prefers.

Eren shifts in the bed, a painful throb attacking his skull, and he pulls his hand away. She opens her eyes, noticing the grimace on his face, and her signature concerned look returns. "What's wrong?"

Deja vu? It felt like a memory, but he knows for a fact he never experienced anything like that. It feels eerily familiar, however, so much so that Eren wonders if it might have been part of the dream he just had.

He shakes his head. "Just a headache. I wish I slept through it."

Mikasa frowns. "I get those a lot. Try rubbing your temples."

But he doesn't want to let go of Mikasa's hand. He shakes his head once again. "I'm fine."

And they sit in silence for a bit. This time, Eren is the one with his eyes closed, trying to act as if he's comfortable enough to fall asleep in the hopes that Mikasa, who still has her eyes worriedly trained on him, will fall back into the slumber Eren so rudely forced her out of. But that's the thing about Mikasa, she'll never put herself above his own well being, and as appreciative as he tries to be, he can't stop the annoyance from churning in his stomach. He wants her to be well, too, but she hardly lets him care for her.

"Stop whining, Eren. She's laying in your bed, right?"

"Yeah, and she won't fall asleep in it." He argues with himself.

Unfortunately, it seems like she's aware of his feigned attempts, and when he feels her thumb smooth across the back of his hand, he opens his eyes to see her frowning. "Did you sleep well?"

Eren sighs. "I did..."

She furrows her brows, clearly seeing through his inadequate response.

"I had a nightmare, I think..." he explains reluctantly.

"What was it about?"

"I don't remember..." His mind searches for the contents of his dream, and though he's usually pretty good at remembering, all he can conjure at the moment is faint images. Mikasa crying in a field, a man with glasses holding a ball... wasn't there a Colossal Titan? It doesn't matter, and he tells her as much. "Don't worry about it, it was just a dream."

To his surprise, her eyebrows only shoot up more in concern. But words don't accompany it, she simply looks more distressed, and Eren can do nothing but huff. "You should try and get some more sleep. It's my fault that you woke up." He finally starts to rub his temple in the hope that it will calm her down, and she seems to reluctantly pry her eyes away, either deeming it satisfactory for her concerns or knowing that Eren won't yield anymore room for discussion. It's probably the latter.

Finally, Eren's face tugs a bit in guilt. He's won this encounter, but because of it he feels empty, and now she looks far too disgruntled to fall asleep.

"Falling asleep was easy, though," he lets out.

Mikasa looks back up at him with doe eyes, the ones that make Eren's heart ring, and he knows she's not even doing it on purpose. He doesn't think he'll ever get used to the sight of Mikasa being vulnerable. He's always known her as a strong, stoic soldier, somewhat socially inept (though he's no better) with an ice cold demeanor. To see her like this, on the rare occasions that he does, and to know it's only for him for some damn reason, fills his soul with a feeling unparalleled by all the fierce loyalty he has to his friends. Affection, fondness, friendship, the words don't do the sensation justice, and he doesn't know what word to use.

She only lets out a light sound of confusion, and to that Eren knows that he'll have to be more kind than he tends to be. "You know... it wasn't that hard falling asleep. It's cold here, but..." he looks into her eyes, and finds his face heating up once again beyond hope of concealment. "...the extra covers helped," he stutters out, incapable of telling her the true cause of his great sleep.

To his surprise, however, when he looks back at her, she wears a smile on her face. As far as Mikasa smiles go, this one is awfully bright, and for a reason he can't explain it makes him melt on the inside, the gooey remnants of his heart warming him up even more.

"I wish you would smile more often," the thought forms itself into words before he has a chance to stop them. Though, now that he thinks about it, he could probably survive off that radiant smile for the rest of his life.

She blinks at his words, face falling a bit, as if she was reminded of something. Eren feels his insides whine at the loss of her smile, but doesn't respond. After all, there's plenty for both of them to be worried about now. They're on the run from the military, they're dealing with the rugged life of the Underground, and they have to find a way to get back. Plus, they've certainly both gone through enough trauma in their past to warrant the gloomy expression. They both lost their parents, their family.

"You still have her, Eren."

"We'll get out of here soon, I'm sure of it," Eren reassures.

He's confident enough that it'll make her feel better, but her face moves in indecipherable tones. She only stares at him, and Eren thinks she almost looks apologetic.

"That's what we're fighting for, right? To get out of this place?" he asks, voice encouraging her to give him an honest answer, because sometimes a part of him wonders if that's really true.

She grabs his sleeve again, tugging herself just slightly closer to him. "I'm fighting for this." Her voice is fainter than a whisper.

Eren lets out a light sound of confusion. "What, this dingy place, this shitty bed?" he's sarcastic, because he knows that can't be true, but what he doesn't understand is when she tightens her grip even more, fighting back a stark quiver from showing on her lips.

She has nothing left to say, her eyes closed and her features beginning to relax, and at the sight, he does too.

He's ready to go back to sleep.

---

Marco smiles abashedly, rubbing a hand over the back of his head and sticking his other one out to refuse his superior's offer. "No thank you, sir. I have duties to attend to," he declines, a small laugh escaping him.

The bulbous man that sits at the other side of the table laughs heartily. "Nonsense. You've only had one glass of wine." He takes the bottle, filling up his own glass with an excessive amount of alcohol, so much so that Marco's afraid it might overflow from the slightest of incorrect turns. Konigsmann seems to be quite experienced in handling drinks however, as not a drop manages to be spilt from the glass.

"That's more than enough. I've got to keep a level head out there, sir." He's surprised by his own ability to turn down an offer from the type of superior he used to look up to. Even in his days of training, despite Shadis' crass attitude and perhaps overly imposing demeanor, he recognized that someone like him was necessary for not only weeding out the boys and girls who didn't have what it takes to join the military, but also to harden the ones who remained into true soldiers. Marco was surely afraid of the bald commandant, but he grew to respect him as well.

He's just that type of person, he supposes. One who looked up to their superiors with respect and admiration, much like he does towards the king himself.

Now, though, he realizes the errors of such a mentality. Serving under the Military Police made it abundantly clear to him just how pathetic and rotten superiors can be. Because they were in a position of power relative to him and his comrades, it had given him the faulty impression that their power was always earned, when in fact, that couldn't be further from the truth. He has to hold back a faint chuckle at Armin's warnings. Marco has to admit that he always brushed off the blond's thoughts on the matter, accepting that there were indeed some bad apples in the batch, but the majority were honest, king serving soldiers. What he truly didn't expect, however, was to be sitting across from who may be the laziest man he's ever met, and getting the impression that he is the most competent officer in the whole of the Underground. It sickens him to see such decadence in the organization he used to admire as much as he did their ruler, but he swore his life to the king, so he has no choice but to stomach it and do what he can. Even if it kills him, he wants to make the inner walls a better place, he knows he does.

If he didn't, he'd be no better than everyone else here. His friends are out fighting titans with the Survey Corps, and the thought makes him shudder with worry, but also sting with guilt. He had always wanted to join the Military Police, believing it the most noble of the branches by a large margin. But he's seen what the titans are capable of inflicting upon mankind, and now he isn't as sure that he's not walking the cowards path. If he sat in these comfortable walls and did nothing, like all of the soldiers around him, then how can he justify his choice? How can he hold his head as high as the Scouts, those who risk everything, sacrificing hundreds of lives for the smallest, most obscure bit of advancement.

Konigsmann gives him a smirk, twirling the considerably more empty glass in his hand. "I like it when you call me that. Do it more often, and there might be a promotion in your future."

Marco's eyes widen. "No thank you, sir. There's still plenty of work to be done here."

The man raises his eyebrows, leaning back in his chair. "You're a strange one. Why are you so interested in getting yourself killed?"

"Sir?" Marco's surprised by the bluntness of his question, the atmosphere of the meeting growing dim. Perhaps it's an accurate reflection of the ever present darkness of the Underground.

"They send poor souls like you down here because they don't like you. That's how bad it is in the Underground. The more you try and act like a soldier, the more likely it is to be shanked in the middle of main street."

Marco pauses for a moment, tapping his fingers on the table. "That's only because we let them get away with it. The Underground is convenient for only a few people at the top, that's why they let it go unwatched. It's an important piece in their scheme to keep the corruption of the Military Police going."

"It may be, but that doesn't mean you can do anything about it. The crime here is more than just petty thieves and murderers, Bott. The roots run deep down here, there are people more influential than even the nobles. Slavery, child trafficking, organized crime, illegal auctions, gang wars. That's not something that disappears because of a plucky boy with a stupid attitude."

Marco frowns at the sudden insult, but Konigsmann shrugs, lifting the glass to take another drink. "You're brave, but you're stupid, too. You got into the Military Police, and now you want to throw your life away?" he elaborates, to which Marco lets out a light sigh.

"Maybe I'm not used to casually drinking with my superior, so please pardon my hesitance," the freckled boy begins, to which Konigsmann fails to bite back a chuckle. "I joined the military to dedicate my heart to the king, and I know the way I live is extremely comfortable compared to others. That's why I want to use the resources I have to do some good. Otherwise, how could I compare myself to people who've died for nothing?"

The large man is silent, eyes prying into Marco as he seemingly assesses something about him. "You're a survivor from Trost, aren't you?"

Marco lets out a light sound of surprise, prompting Konigsmann to continue. "I've got a friend on the surface. He helps maintain the outer wall of Ehrmich District, so he's dealt with a lot of refugees. There's been a wave of MP soldiers who survived Trost, and he says most of them are shit. They sleep in late, don't get their work done on time, and are impossible to work with. But I'm willing to guess that there were at least a few who came out of that stronger than before. Am I right in saying that applies to you?"

The boy slowly nods, thinking about how Trost really affected him. He has the same motivation as before, sure... but he wonders if he really would have had what it took to stand up to the Military Police before.

The older man grunts, impressed by his will. "Maybe I don't have to pretend to know if there's a promotion in your future just so you'll call me sir. All I have to do is order you to."

"That would be right, sir."

---

Another day, another bout of misfortune. She should count herself lucky that she hasn't run into that many complications today. It's simply been a matter of looking around town for some inkling of an opportunity, yet nothing can be found. Mikasa originally thought that she'd have the best chance of finding work in the busier parts of the city, but she quickly learned that that was easier said than done. There truly are a lot of people here, likely more so than Shiganshina, which itself was one of the biggest hubs in the southern part of Wall Maria. She's stricken with awe every time she trudges through the main streets of the Underground, the diversity of people, from children to the elderly, all grubbing about this dreadful place. It's been thirteen years since she lived a quiet, isolated life in the mountains with her parents, but sometimes the sight of a metropolis such as this still takes her breath away.

She doesn't like it, though. She's always preferred quiet, and though the evident lack of anyone, not even the Military Police, so much as noticing her as she walks around the city is obvious, she still feels like she sticks out like a sore thumb. And it's not like it was doing her any good, either. She roamed the dense streets of the Underground for hours, walking into taverns and sometimes using what little money she had to buy a drink, just so no one would question what she's doing there. Thinking back on it, though, that was likely to her detriment.

Mikasa sighs as she closes the door to the house, the ear splitting creak of the worn wood signaling home, whether she likes it or not. She looks around the room, its dilapidated state, dusty floor, and creaky bed coaxing a sigh out of the girl. A shadow of a thought enters into her mind, and as it forms it turns into more of an admittance of fact rather than a thought, and it's that she doesn't like it here. Though for relatively different reasons to Eren, living in this place is nowhere near her cup of tea, and she wonders how she plans to live here in perpetuity. Sure, they may leave the Underground and find a more comfortable spot in Sina, but for some reason, returning to the surface sounds just as unappealing as remaining here.

Up there, they're exposed. Well, nothing in particular about living in the heart of Sina's surface leaves her more vulnerable than living down here, but she can't hide as easily up there, and from there... they can be bombed.

She fights a shudder from traveling down her spine at the thought, and suddenly, anxiety trickles into her gut. "Marley will come. One day."

She doesn't know when and she doesn't know where, but it will be a struggle to avoid the Warriors forever. She hasn't asked around that much, still being a bit too anxious to approach strangers and not having made any acquaintances down here, so she can't say she knows much about any rumors. But, she would have expected a mountainous wave of refugees to come flooding into the Underground if Wall Rose had fallen. After all, wouldn't the king's first actions, besides perhaps sending thousands of people back out into titan territory to reduce the population, be to send them to the dump of humanity? If she remembers correctly, Wall Rose is the most populous of the three walls, so if it were to fall to the warriors, surely she'd be affected by the consequences.

But... nothing. Which means the warriors didn't break down Wall Rose after breaching Trost. That only leads Mikasa to one conclusion, which is that they changed their plans because of the raven haired girl's actions. Whether they came to chase after her or fled Paradis entirely is anyone's guess, but she supposes that either way, she'll have to deal with them.

That was the problem she had to deal with in her last life, a problem that Eren so insidiously solved by killing everyone.

"But he didn't kill everyone..." the thought echoes into her mind, and she scrunches her brows, repulsed by her own instinctual desire to excuse Eren of what he did.

"He would have if you didn't stop him! Quit making excuses for him, Mikasa. It's exactly what he would have expected you to do!" she harshly berates herself, realizing that that Eren, the one who called her a slave, would have expected her to make that excuse. It's not because she agrees with him, it's because she can't help but find a reason to continue to be obedient to him...

She sucks in a breath, running her fingers through her hair and squeezing her head as she paces around the small room. Nausea billows up her stomach, and she forces herself to bite back the bile that threatens to ooze from her throat. She's disgusted with herself.

Taking in another deep breath from her nose, she compels herself to reminisce on the day instead. After giving up on the main streets, she had visited Eren at his job, making sure he was okay. He was surprised to see her, but he looked as if he had come across a pleasant surprise. The thought makes her beam on the inside, remembering when she would arrive to greet him during their days in training, and he would often not even acknowledge her existence. It's a superficial difference, she knows, but it makes her inner child bounce with glee.

Afterwards, she decided to try her luck at some of the shadier sides of town. Naturally, she didn't tell Eren this, and as she expected, she came out of it unscathed. Perhaps she was only lucky, but she didn't come across anything too bad. There were a few older men that approached her, but she was quick to realize they were only interested in one thing. The way their eyes languidly traveled down her body made sure of that, and she realizes that if she wants to avoid vomiting the limited contents of her stomach right in their house, then thinking about that wouldn't do her much good. She stood her ground easily, only one of them even tried to grab her and she promptly broke his wrist before he could even get close.

Still, though. She's surprised no one tried to outright murder her. Regardless, it didn't take long to understand that walking around the outskirts of the city, practically asking to get attacked in some way, wouldn't be any more fruitful than trying to find work in the heart of the city. So she came home, at what she's fairly certain is dinnertime, with a sack of potatoes in her hands. She looks back at the potatoes that sit on the table, her rapid heart calming down slowly as she affirms the mantra in her head. "It's time to make food. Eren will be hungry, too."

Eren.

Looking back at the bed they shared last night, she finds her thoughts escaping her. Suddenly, the Underground seems like the best place in the world to be, because Eren's here, too. As long as she has him, she can put those thoughts of Marley to the back of her mind. Yes... that's what she should do. Right.

She takes her time boiling the potatoes, waiting for Eren to come home. She tries to time it correctly, so that the potatoes are their warmest when he's supposed to come home, but she fails, forced once again to eat alone for the time being. It could be because she still hasn't mastered the art of telling time down here, but more concerningly, the chances of him getting mugged aren't low. He knows how to fight, and he's pretty good at it too, but compared to a man twice his size?

"Remember all the times he took down Reiner? He knows how to fight."

And he can heal from almost any wound too. Though Mikasa wouldn't exactly consider that a strength at the moment.

Fortunately, it wasn't that much longer before she hears a click at the door. Her heart jumps, the slight but ever present possibility that she'll find something she doesn't like, but only Eren comes through the door, unharmed. She lets out a lazy smile, her features falling back into their place. "Good evening, Eren."

Eren lets out a tired grunt, but his eyes quickly light up as he sees the food waiting for him. He sits down in an instant, not bothering to take off his shoes, and chows down on the potatoes eagerly. Once again, they eat in relative silence, but Mikasa is in a much better place. Being with Eren makes her feel better.

Halfway through his meal, he finally looks up at Mikasa. "Still can't find a job, huh?"

She furrows her brows, and Eren answers the silent question of how he knew. "When I was leaving from work, Ingrid told me I was getting off early. Apparently it's a cloudy day outside, it threw me off. Anyways, I'm home early, which means you came home even earlier. You probably didn't have anything better to do late into the day."

Her brows lift, a little caught off guard how Eren realized something like that. She wonders if her job was on his mind enough for him to figure that out. Regardless, he's right, so she nods. "It must have been a long day. I thought it was evening, too." She feels a little silly for wasting so much time, but there's always time to spare, she reminds herself, until she "figures something out," which she's not confident is possible.

"Don't worry about it." He shoots her a light smile, wholly undisturbed by the prospect of her not having any luck finding a job. Mikasa knows that he probably still isn't eager to have her do anything criminal related, so his reaction isn't surprising. "I have a job, so we'll still be able to afford food and water."

She sighs. "Eren, you don't make enough money for that," she explains bluntly.

Eren shakes his head. "Not yet, but Ingrid said she would help me with a raise. Three bronze a day is nothing, even for people down here, apparently."

Mikasa lifts her eyebrows in surprise, that familiar quiver returning back to her stomach. "I thought you said she was a pain in the ass?" she quotes him, though she'd be lying if she said she didn't feel good saying that, for whatever reason.

He blinks, likely surprised at the curse word falling from her mouth, but doesn't comment on it. "Well, yeah... she is sometimes, but she's helping me out with this. She wasn't that bad once I got to know her. But it'll still take some time. Something about 'proving my worth' before I ask for more money, I don't know."

She only hums in agreement. It's good to hear that he may be making some extra money, she guesses, but it doesn't change the fact that she'll keep searching until she finds something. She needs something more than a job. She needs a way to keep them safe down here.

---

Considering the two of them lived alone in a cramped space, there wasn't much to do after they finished eating. Mikasa did her best to clean up the place, getting the easily accumulated dust off of the table and drawers, but beyond that, there really wasn't anything that needed done. Eren stands by his bed, leaning his arms on the window sill and staring out at the expansive city longingly. Occasionally, as she cleaned, she would hear him sigh, and it always, without fail, caused Mikasa's heart to sink.

"I'm sorry, Eren." she would think each time it happened.

Sometimes she can't believe she actually thinks she can get away with this. She thinks that Eren is bound to try to leave. Right now he's patient, sure, but Eren's never been one to give up on his dreams for something as inconvenient as their possible execution. And she knows it's only inconvenient for someone like him. It's significant, but he only views it as a temporary roadblock, another obstacle on the way to his goals. It's a symptom of his tendency to view himself as someone destined to exterminate all of the titans. But Mikasa recognizes it for their predicament for what it is, a permanent prohibitor. They can't really do anything to get back in the military now, Mikasa knows it.

And so she's stuck in a state of perpetual guilt, balancing but never leaning towards either side of the line between regret and relief. She can't find it in herself to be happy, knowing that deep down Eren is miserable down here, yet she can't bring herself to regret her decision. Otherwise, they would have surely discovered Eren's secret, and she would have lost him forever.

Is she just delaying the inevitable...?

Suddenly, she feels her anxiety start to get the better of her. Realizing that she hasn't had any cleaning to do for a long time, there's nothing left to do but sit in her bed and let her thoughts consume her. Remembering last night, she feels the tug in her heart to sleep in Eren's bed again, to feel his presence, his warmth right next to her. She likes it because she knows he's safe, and because it has an inexplicable calming effect on the girl.

Well... maybe it isn't that inexplicable. She loves him, and she'll selfishly grab at any opportunity to be close to him that she can, because she is delaying the inevitable, but that's what she'd be doing no matter what she did. He'll die when he's twenty three no matter what...

She pulls the scarf up to her nose, taking a deep breath. She's long since gone nose blind to the fabric, unable to smell anything from it unless it's dirty.

"You're delaying the inevitable, so you might as well tell him. It will probably make you feel better."

"Tell him you love him."

But her heart shrivels, trepidation creeping into her entire being. She's a coward. She doesn't want to tell him. She's more than happy to stay by his side for the rest of his life. They'll always be family to each other, anyway.

"But what if telling him is what you need to do to make him stay?"

"But what if telling him will be what drives him farther away?"

She has no idea how Eren will react, because she has no idea who the man Eren will become truly is. And it stays her heart. She cannot tell him she loves him, because she loves him too much to bear the consequences of her actions.

As she stands, staring at Eren's backside, however, the words roll all the way from her lungs to her tongue before she can stop it. "I'm sorry for taking you here..."

Eren turns around to look at her with curious eyes. "Huh?"

Her gut dangles in the air by the string he holds. His eyes are so innocent, as if what she was doing by bringing him to the Underground wasn't an obvious sin.

"I kidnapped you, Eren. I took you here against your will because I was scared. I'm sorry." She fiddles with her red scarf. Her big eyes stay focused on her fingers, too afraid to look up at him. Not because she won't like what she sees, but because she's afraid his gaze will break her, cause her to unload all of her agonizing memories of the past onto him. She finds herself in that position a lot. She really wants to tell him.

"That again? I told you it's okay. I wasn't mad at you because you took me, anyway. I was mad because I wish you never left in the first place. It's okay that we're staying here for now."

"But what if we stayed here forever?" she doesn't dare ask. That would incite a conflict, no doubt. And she doesn't like to argue with Eren on topics where she knows she's in the wrong.

"But I didn't have to bring you. I was selfish..." she bows her head further in shame, wishing beyond everything she knows to tell him why she's so sorry, why she cried and shivered profusely last night, why she had to sleep in his bed to avoid the nightmares. "I had to run because Annie and Reiner and Bertholdt are chasing us and I don't want you to join the Scouts because when you do you'll try to go to the basement because Armin knows you're a titan and everyone else will figure it out and you'll gain more memories and then you'll leave me behind and I don't want you to leave me behind!"

"It's fine. It works out this way." His voice soothes the clamor of her innermost thoughts.

"Huh?"

"You'll send yourself to an early grave without me," he says with a light smile, echoing the words she said to him so long ago.

"Mikasa! You don't have to join the military!"

"You'll send yourself to an early grave without me."

The profound, undying affection she holds in her heart bursts out, as if the words ignited a bonfire of emotion within her weary spirit. She looks at him with those eyes, the eyes she knows are so obviously birthed from her love for Eren, the eyes everyone around her notices are a strange look with Mikasa Ackerman. Even Eren himself seems to notice something, his eyes softening to a degree that she scarcely sees. And then, in an act she never could have expected from Eren Jaeger, he proceeds to read her mind.

"Do you want a hug?"

Mikasa's quick to nod. Only having to take a few steps before Eren has closed the distance. His warmth envelops her, and she hums contentedly, melting away every concern she could ever have.

Marley? The Warriors? Eren's Titan? The shady criminals of the Underground? None of it matters right now. Eren's hugging her right now.

She wishes she could have hugged her more when he was taller, so she could snuggle into his chest. He had a growth spurt when he was seventeen, but over those four years they never hugged much. She supposes they never hugged at all in the previous timeline. After they became soldiers, despite her insistence to be close to him, hugging was something that was rarely initiated. Mikasa was far too shy, Eren far too aloof.

But thinking about it now, she's lost count of the amount of times they've hugged in this timeline. The thought makes her shine with joy, bustle with excitement.

After what was definitely far too brief of a time, he pulls away, looking at her face. She notices that his cheeks have reddened considerably since she last looked at him, which is strange considering he's the one who offered the hug, but as she sees his mouth open slightly and close again, she realizes he's about to ask something.

"I... um- uh. I know you don't need it, but..." he scratches the back of his head, and she wonders what on earth he could be thinking. "I know I said the extra blankets made me warm... but I think having you there helped, too."

Her eyes widen in shock, but her heart leaps. It soars in excitement and possibility as she patiently awaits his next words.

"Do you want to sleep... in the same bed.. again?"

"Yes." Her whisper of a voice couldn't be quicker, and she can see his eyes twinkle, the hints of a happy Eren peeking behind those forests of green. And even though he doesn't have to, he grabs her hand, guiding her back to his bed like he did last night. Mikasa can only stare at him with absolute adoration... she loves him with every fiber of her being.

They settle. They get comfortable under the layer of blankets, soaking up each other's presence. Once again, it's a challenge to keep a proper amount of space between them, but they manage. To cuddle in their sleep is perhaps a level of intimacy Eren isn't ready for, but she's more than willing to accept what she has now with the brightest of smiles.

The night grows, and the two remain fixed in conversation. They talk more about their days, a stark contrast to the silence of the dinner table, when they could have talked about all of this. Perhaps they needed to be closer, Mikasa likes to think. She carefully tiptoed around the subject of the creepy men she faced while on her escapades, not wanting to render Eren unable to sleep. He talked some more about Ingrid, but Mikasa didn't mind as much now that she was holding his hand, and he mentioned some other people he's met. For a small moment, she thinks that it could be possible for Eren to stay here for good. He's making new friends... so... No. She halts herself. No amount of acquaintances could ever replace Armin, Sasha, Jean, or anyone.

Eventually, though, the words die out. All that remains are their faces, staring at each other with half lidded eyes. She doesn't know what compels him to do it, but he brings a hand to her cheek, absentmindedly caressing it with his thumb, and she wonders if this is what heaven feels like. She involuntarily lets out another hum of contentment, but soon his thumb starts to circle around a fixed point on her right cheek. With the unique way it feels, she instantly knows it to signify the scar she's had since her training days, the scar that she still can't fathom the origin of.

What truly sinks her heart, however, is the frown that forms on his tired face, and the words that come out of his mouth. "I wish I knew how you got this scar. It makes me feel bad."

Her eyes widen, her chest tightening as she can only echo his response. "It makes you feel bad?"

"Yeah... I don't know why. Are you sure it wasn't from me?"

Nausea rumbles inside of her. "Why would it be from you...?" she fails to hide the worry that's painted her features, though Eren seems to be too tired to notice, fortunately. But it reminds her of the sickening fear that inflicted her this morning, as she laid in Eren's bed. He had apologized for telling her to cut her hair, even though she swears that was something she suggested first in this timeline. She doesn't know if her memories are failing her, Eren had a slip up and she's being paranoid, or if he's truly gaining some semblance of his memories.

After all, if Mikasa can gain this sudden awareness of her past timeline at the age of twelve, then why can't Eren, a possessor of the Founding Titan?

Or was that even how it worked? Did she go back in time? Or was she simply bestowed with memories? She feels that if it was truly a matter of her gaining memories of a timeline she never experienced, she would have a lot more recent memories of the time before she awoke as a twelve year old in that orphanage.

But then how is Eren gaining these memories back? Why does he not like her scar? Why should it worry him, if not for the ghosts of memories connected to it? He's technically the one who gave her that scar, after all. Though, in the grand scheme of things, that was the least painful scar she ever received from the boy.

Mikasa feels like she's plummeting back to the cold, hard ground, the wave of defeat coursing through her bones. Despair shakes her, but it's halted in its tracks by Eren, who moves his hand from her cheek to her scarf, holding the fabric in between his fingers.

"Calm down..." he mumbles, tiredness clearly overtaking him. She doesn't know why he insists on being awake when he's so close to sleep, but she sighs, realizing that she'll have to take the scarf off before she sleeps. It's a bit restraining on her neck when she tries to rest with it on.

"It's still soft." His voice is no louder than a whisper, and she gasps quietly, the memories that usually sit so dimly in her mind now shining on her psyche.

The memory of her hugging him. As her whole world crumbled to ashes, as the screams of millions of rumbled souls echoed through her mind.

"Can you make me one more promise? Throw the scarf out once I'm dead."

She chokes back a sob, grabbing the nearly limp hand that rests on her scarf and placing it on her forehead, begging it to understand her.

"Please please please stay. Don't change. Please..." she doesn't realize she says it out loud, but Eren's already fast asleep.

---

Marco walks through the streets of the effervescent city, somehow being more lively at night than in the daytime, much to his displeasure. Perhaps he was the fool for thinking the Underground would have no excuse to be more active in the nighttime, unlike other bustling cities. The orange hue of the city is ever present, persistently shining from all around him, and he still isn't sure how the people down here tell time. There are cracks in the rocky ceiling, Marco's noticed, but nothing too significant to provide for an effective measurement of the sun's position. Is it possible the denizens of the Underground know how to squint really well? Or is it something that's learned with time? He's already been here a week...

He doesn't know, but what's certain to him is that it's quite miserable here. If the cave's natural humidity wasn't enough, the magnitude of bright torches and sweaty people certainly did the job of forcing Marco to shift his collar a bit. The thought of taking off his military uniform has crossed his mind, and it's not like anyone would care, but he can't bring himself to do it. It's his beacon of pride amidst this muck of a city. Even though it feels just as tacky as the trainee uniform he wore in Trost, it somehow feels more grand, more important.

Night shifts in the most crime ridden city humanity has to offer is certainly not a desired prize, but it's one Marco plans to take in stride. After all, it's the life he chose.

He looks at the three military police he has the pleasure of patrolling the main street with. He means it when he thinks that it really is a pleasure to know these people. He typically got along well with just about everybody he met, even to people like Jean and Annie, both of whom made enemies quite easily. But he really expected his experience in the Underground to be an exception. He didn't have high hopes for the Military Police in general after what he learned during his time policing the surface, let alone the worst of the worst that sat below the earth. But he was pleasantly surprised by what he found. It is certainly disappointing to see so many decadent officers and lazy soldiers, but what he found was that, despite his extremely low opinion of people like this, they were nevertheless people. They had their own desires and fears, their own motivations for doing what they did, but they all shared one thing in common, and that was their bewilderment at Marco's goal.

In one way or another, their goals aligned with the system. They wanted to use the corruption of the Military Police, the corruption of the Underground, to further their own goals. Marco stood in opposition to those systems entirely, and he wouldn't rest until he's put some amount of effort into making this world a better place for humanity. For his king.

There was Jen in front of him. Not only did her name remind Marco of Jean, her personality was quite similar as well. She was brutally honest about their predicament as Underground MP, though used it to her advantage. She was lazier than Marco could have ever guessed, one time even outright ignoring her superior officer just to prove a point to Marco. No one had bat an eye, and Marco was astonished.

The other two he can say he likes a bit more. Ashe and Mia were rather pleasant people to be around, or should he say, they weren't outright rude to him. They mostly kept to themselves, kissing and fondling each other whenever they got the chance, which was constantly due to the lax nature of their job. In fact, they're in the middle of it right now, huddled together in an alleyway and kissing each other without a care in the world. Marco thought it strange at first, but he grew to accept it, and even appreciate it. What they had seemed like genuine love, and it warmed his heart to see that despite being in the worst place on earth, they couldn't be happier, because they still had each other.

He sighs, slinging his rifle more securely on his shoulder. Unlike the other three, he keeps his eyes out for any crime, and, as it happens, looking for crime in the Underground is as easy as looking for worms after a long day of rain.

He looks to his left to see two men seemingly conversing with each other. As Marco watches the altercation, however, the man on the left, one with black, frazzled hair and dark circles under his eyes, pulls out a sharp knife and quickly stabs the other man. The tall boy's eyes instantly go wide, but he quickly adjusts, sharpening his features and yelling out. "Hey, you!"

Marco dashes towards the scene, unslinging the gun from his shoulder. However, the man only gives him an unimpressed grin, bringing the knife back to his pocket and using his other hand to grab a gun from his hilt. Marco gasps, thinking to shoot with his own gun, but he doesn't have fully unslung. Realizing he has no choice, his mind flashes back to his training, of the time when Jean used his rifle not to jab at Marco, but to disarm him.

The freckled boy slides on the ground with his knees. Before the man can shoot, he swings the wrong end of the rifle at him, the flat end that usually rests on the back of his arm when he aims. It's perfect for this situation however, as he swings it upwards at the gun, forcing the man's hand to rocket upwards as he shoots, the bullet flying to some corner in the ceiling of the Underground. He hears the shocked gasps of people witnessing the scene, some scared by the gunfire and others excited by the spectacle.

Marco uses his newfound proximity to bring his leg across the shins of the man, tripping him up. He falls with a yelp, but due to his spryness, he's able to get back up just as fast as Marco. The man whips out his knife again, bringing it to his gut in a shanking maneuver, but Marco is more than prepared, sidestepping to the left. The man reels back in a flash, going for another jab, but it's once again dodged by Marco. He's able to make a few more successful dodges before the opportunity presents itself. The knife wielding man puts a little too much force into his thrust, tipping him off balance and giving Marco enough room to grab his arm.

He twists the arm at a ninety degree angle, pulling it in just the right way to force a crack sound to echo through the street. A scream followed shortly after. "Oi, shitheads, help me out!"

Marco gasps as he glances around him, seeing three other men come running at him out of nowhere. He shoves the man he's holding to the ground, equipping the gun in his hands correctly. Unfortunately, with three men and only one rifle, he can only point at one at a time. The one he points at backs off immediately, but it's just enough time for the other two to rush at him with knives.

He turns, shoving the back of his rifle right into the closest man's face with enough force to knock him backwards. However, the third man runs at him from the other side, a sharp knife secure in his hands as he thrusts it right at a defenseless Marco.

But another figure approaches, wrapping an arm around the man's shoulder and kneeing him right in the gut. Spit flies from his mouth as he tumbles backwards. It doesn't take longer than a second for him to recognize it. "Mia!" he lets out in surprise, but she only has an angry frown in store for him. "You bastard! What are you trying to do?!"

He furrows his brows, but before an answer can arrive, the man who Marco had a gun pointed at previously runs up. This one is burly, about as tall as Marco, and his knuckles are calloused, no doubt from years of beating others up. "A professional... some kind of gang member!" Although, what truly makes his heart spike isn't the worn out skin on his fists, but the gun he holds in his hands, having ripped it straight from Marco's grasp. Mia doesn't have a weapon on her, and they both freeze in anticipation, all before the contents of the man's head come shooting out from the right side of his head. They look to their left to see Ashe, holding a smoking rifle in his hands.

"Ashe!" Mia calls out, tears welling in her eyes as the weight of what was about to happen dawns on her. Marco doesn't waste the opportunity, grabbing his rope from his belt and securing the arms of the three men that remain alive.

Ashe walks up to the girl, hugging her tight in her arms as he looks at the freckled boy. "Oi, if you really want to get yourself killed, go right ahead, but don't take the rest of us down with you."

Marco ignores the boy's comment, looking down at the original man, the one with frazzled hair, and giving him a stern frown. "You guys are clearly practiced fighters. Who do you work for?"

"I'm not telling you shit..." he spits, but that attitude is quickly replaced with a trembling fear as Marco grabs his gun back and points it right at his head. "Ah, AH! Don't shoot! It's Mr. Miller! He knew you'd be poking around here!" he shouts pathetically.

Marco lifts the gun, sighing loudly as the name runs through his mind. Mr. Miller, one of the biggest gang leaders in the Underground.

"So he's after the Military Police, now..." Mia notes, placing a hand on her head.

"It's because of the corrupt officers of the Underground. I suspect he thinks he can push them around and they won't do a single thing about it. The worst part is, he's right," Marco mutters.

"You're telling me I almost died because some asshole officer folds to a criminal!" Mia shouts, eyes still red from the tears of shock. Marco's a bit caught off guard by her state, wondering if she's ever been in a life threatening situation before, or if she's even had to deal with criminals. He supposes that maybe he's the exception. Having dealt with titans gives you a certain resistance to petty criminals, it seems.

---

Reiner walks through the cobbled streets, the crisp nighttime air tucking at his skin. It doesn't take long before he arrives at his destination, a relatively wide alleyway, secure enough for them to his comrades but not so tight and out of the way as to arouse suspicion. A perfect place to talk.

And that's all he's doing. Bertholdt and Annie should arrive soon, so they can talk. Reminisce upon their old days as cadets and converse about their new experiences as members of the prestigious Military Police. That's what they'll do.

"Mikasa Ackerman. You're going to talk about Mikasa Ackerman."

He's fairly certain that he's the one to tell himself this. It's in his own voice, in his own head, and only he should know about the truth of his intentions. So it's him.

But as he stands around, the nightly chill begins to grow hot, and a drop of sweat forms on his temple. Why is he here?

No. He can't be like this now. He's going to discuss the whereabouts of Mikasa. He's not an island devil... he's the hero Marley entrusted him to be.

The burly blond sits, leaning on the wall for support and looking down at the ground. His eyes have long since adjusted to the darkness of the night, and, being in Mitras, the odd torch still does light up the area, despite it being very late into the night. Yet, he appreciates his inability to make out the small cracks in the stony walkway. He's sure they would be taunting him, too.

His breathing grows labored, the sight of blood and entrails, the sound of ear splitting screams, all wracking his brain as it struggles to understand how a soldier of humanity could do such a thing as destroy an entire city. He huffs loudly, wiping the sweat that's formed on his brow, before closing his eyes to try and calm his heart rate.

He doesn't hear nor feel the footsteps that approach him, but when he hears a voice, it helps to bring everything back in order again.

"Remember, you're a warrior, Reiner." Bertholdt stands, offering the blond his hand and a resolute expression. Reiner sighs, thanking his best friend with a smile and taking his hand.

"So, Annie's not here yet?" Bertholdt asks. Reiner shrugs in response.

"I haven't seen her. But we knew it would take longer for her to show up," he reminds his friend. Both Reiner and Bertholdt, after two weeks straight of searching the districts they had agreed upon, Reiner's being Ehrmich and Bertholdt's being Orvud, Reiner was anxious to hear if they had any leads, and he's sure Bertholdt might be hoping for a something similar, though in that case the blond will have to disappoint him.

Annie, though having two weeks to search in Stohess, was transferring over to Yarckel District, in the west. While she's still passing through Mitras to travel from one side of Wall Sina to another, her route was a bit different, which likely explains the delay.

However, it wasn't long before a short figure entered into Reiner's periphery. Glancing to his right, he sees a familiar blonde, wearing a signature disinterested look upon her face.

"Annie. I was almost worried you wouldn't show up."

She doesn't bother to even stare back at him, opting to walk to the wall of the alleyway and let out a few simple words. "She's not anywhere near Stohess."

Both him and Bertholdt let out sighs. They likely both know what each other's responses are going to be as well.

"I looked all over Orvud... but nothing. But I would think, since she left from Trost, she'd be most likely to pass through Ehrmich. Did you find anything, Reiner?" Bertholdt asks.

Reiner can only shake his head. "I checked the records for who had been passing through the outer gate, and I took on guard duty for the gate as often as I could, just in case she'd come through... but I've got nothing. My only guess is that she bribed the guards to bypass her records. Otherwise, they would have figured out she was some kind of ex-trainee, and probably executed her. If that were the case, then there would be records on that, no doubt. So, either she never passed through Ehrmich or she got by using some kind of coin."

"Bribery isn't that difficult in Sina, it's probably that. I don't see why she would have hid in Wall Rose, especially since she didn't know whether we were going to break through the inner gate at Trost or not. Unless..." Annie adds, pondering the extent of Mikasa's knowledge.

Reiner shakes his head. "It's like I said, in that case, we can break down Rose. Either way, it's more likely that she's somewhere in Sina, and unless she's moving around faster than we can detect, that means she's either in the capital, Yarckel, or somewhere in the Sina countryside."

"The countryside isn't that big, but just in case, maybe I should get a head start on it," Bertholdt suggests. Reiner looks down in contemplation, but quickly hums in disagreement.

"It's big enough to where she could figure out pretty easily if she were being chased. I say we work as a team when we explore the smaller towns," he postulates. The advantages of searching in big cities are obvious. With their Marleyan training, staying undercover and making sure they're not caught as they track down Mikasa is certainly possible. But out in the countryside, where the towns are smaller and Military Police visits are far less frequent, she could easily be alerted to their presence far before they can do anything about it.

"So... we basically have nothing?" Annie asks, more to herself than to either of her comrades. Reiner feels a pang of guilt for keeping Annie here for so long. Without any semblance of a victory, even Reiner's beginning to wonder if he's just keeping them all here for nothing.

"No... the capital is the most obvious place she'd hide, and we still haven't searched it. There's no reason to give up yet," he reminds himself.

He turns to Annie. "You should get going. I'm sure getting out here from your transfer party was hard enough."

She stands upright again, walking away without so much as a glance to the other two. "Thanks for the concern."

Her steps eventually dissipate, and once again, only him and his closest comrade stand together. "So should we divide up the city?" the tall boy asks.

"Yeah. But afterwards, I'll search your side and you search mine. We can double check things that way."

Bertholdt nods. "Alright."

---

"So, who's this Mikasa you keep talking about? Is she trying to take you away from me?"

Eren frowns as the pair walk the quiet trail back to his home, genuine confusion adorning his face. "What the hell are you saying?"

Ingrid laughs, sending him another wink. "That's why I like to flirt with you, you've got no idea what I'm talking about."

The boy's eyes widen a bit, a slight color to his cheeks at the outright confirmation of what she was doing. He's never really been flirted with before, but he wonders if he's supposed to feel flattered? He doesn't... but that's not surprising. He's never been one to engage in any intimacy with anyone, not except for the people he's close with. Although, as he thinks about the way he and Mikasa sleep together every night, his blush really starts to form.

"So what's the deal? Are you guys friends?"

"...Yeah," he lets out in a bit of a stutter. Something about the term doesn't sit right with him, after everything the two have shared, but he knows he isn't about to explain the complexity of his relationship with Mikasa to the red haired girl.

Ingrid furrows her brows, staring at him. "Hm... Am I wrong? Is she a sister?" she asks, somehow noticing that he wasn't telling the whole truth.

"No." Eren is decisively quick to answer. He never liked being likened to a sibling of Mikasa's, even when his own parents sometimes did it in an effort to make Mikasa feel more at home. For some reason, the idea gives a whole new meaning to why she coddles him the way she tends to, and it's a meaning he is definitely not fond of. It's not one that makes a whole lot of sense, either, given the circumstances of their first meeting and subsequent bonding.

The girl's eyebrows lift to the top of her head in response, before turning back face ahead of her. "Ahh, I see."

"What?"

"Whaddya mean 'What?'" she makes a poor imitation of Eren's voice.

"I don't sound like that," he mumbles.

"You sound exactly like that!" she punches his arm playfully.

Suddenly, though, he realizes they're at his home, a single room within a decently sized complex full of other apartment rooms. Ingrid lets out a whistle. "Wait, you live here? I've heard the weekly price for staying is crazy! Almost no one lives around here because they can't afford it."

Eren frowns. Is that really the case? Ever since Mikasa got a job as some kind of professional muscle, he knows they could surely afford a place like this, but what about before? Back when they were living off of what silver she made from selling their equipment and the three daily bronze Eren managed to cough up? He feels a trickle of anger enter into his stomach, realizing that financial problems like these were probably aspects of their life she never even bothered to tell him about, simply because she didn't want to worry him.

She got her job a couple of weeks ago, relaying the story, after much prodding from Eren, of how she had to slam a man's head into a table after he tried to touch her. Eren absolutely regretted asking, wanting to leave the Underground for good right then and there, but she was eventually able to calm him down. Either way, after the spectacle she made in the bar, she was approached by a man who went by Miller... or something like that, Eren can't say he had the presence of mind to take in every detail she relayed to him, his concern sickening his stomach and his heart. She was appreciated for her strength though, to neither of their shock, and was practically hired then and there to do whatever was asked of her.

The event seemed to have caused a rift in their relationship. They've lived here a month now, and though they still insist on sleeping with each other, the subject of Mikasa's job is not often brought up. He never was enthusiastic about the idea, but he at least thought he could stomach it. The money has been nice enough to afford more clothes, food, and better blankets, not that he needs them. But... the toll it takes on his mind is palpable.

"Anyways, thanks for showing me where you live, I'll be sure to come by and rob it soon, idiot!" she calls as she departs, a smirk on her face. Eren's long since grown used to her sense of humor, so he pays it no mind, waving goodbye and approaching the steps.

As soon as he enters, he sees Mikasa in her night dress, sitting on his bed. Well, it really is their bed now. Mikasa made her bed a couple of weeks ago and hasn't touched it since, neither of them eager to depart from the warmth they gain from each other. He grimaces, realizing that he had been out late working.

"Eren..." she lets out, a light smile coming to her face, and he finds an involuntary smile coming to his. He likes it when she does that.

"Sorry, I was out late. How was your day?" he asks, despite a part of him not wanting to know due to the nature of her job, slipping off his shoes and sitting at the other end of the bed.

She pauses, letting out a light sigh of worry through her nose, and for the first time Eren realizes the concern on her face. He's known her long enough to know it isn't a look of concern for him, but rather how he'll react to what she has to say.

"Eren, you can't go to your job tomorrow," she states, an order rather than a suggestion.

Eren blinks, her blunt attitude doing nothing to curtail his confusion or annoyance. "What are you talking about?"

Her eyes are hesitant, but Eren keeps his pressure up. It isn't as if he thinks she won't tell him, in fact he guesses she's simply looking for the right words to use.

"Miller. He's set an ambush for the Military Police. Apparently they're getting too competent, so he's putting everything he has into this. Most of his lackeys are going to take part."

"So I guess that means you, too." He can't stop the venom from seeping into his words, and she notices it in an instant, shifting her eyes upward in concern.

"Eren..." she begins, but falters, lacking any heart to argue with him at the moment. Instead, she explains the rest. "The ambush is going to take place at the riverside dock. I don't have any control over that, but I won't let you get hurt in the skirmish."

His mouth drops, frustration billowing within him. He doesn't know if it's this instance specifically, or if the anger in his chest is the culmination of all his worries towards her joining the MP, but he scowls nonetheless. "Mikasa, are you serious? You're going to take part in an attack that involves civilians? I thought you said you would leave them out of this!" his thoughts jump to Ingrid, to Henning, to the other people he's grown to know over the past few weeks. He's not about to just let them get hurt over this.

"Whether I was in this or not wouldn't change the fact that it's happening. I don't regret doing this, because now I can warn you ahead of time."

"That doesn't matter, you being a part of it is a big deal! Mikasa, we were supposed to stay here just for the time being, you can't just start murdering military police out there and hope getting back into the military will be any easier!" he begins to shout, desperate to remind her of their situation, of the whole purpose of getting these jobs in the first place.

"That doesn't matter right now. You have to put that aside." Her voice is curt, and it cuts into him as the anger bubbles out of him. Everything he's been working towards this whole time is suddenly irrelevant to her? Wasn't she the one who brought him here in the first place?

"Don't you want to leave here, Mikasa?" his eyes are genuine, begging to convey to her how important it is that they leave here as soon as they can. Her eyes flash in a languid hesitance as she responds.

"Of course I do... but, Eren... if the Military Police become too intrusive down here, then won't we just be caught?"

Eren pauses, the thought causing him to stay his rage, blinking down at the ground. She continues. "We need to return to the military on our own terms, otherwise they'll think we intended to run away the whole time."

Her words are like rain pouring down on a raging fire. The steam that rises into the air calming his senses, if only a little. "I..." he heaves a mighty sigh, abandoning his words and stomping over to his bed to sit.

He doesn't know how he should feel. Mikasa makes a good point, one he can't really argue against, but at the same time it doesn't make him any happier with the situation. Will they really ever leave this place? It feels like Mikasa's only digging a deeper hole for themselves, and he's suffocating.

Eren feels tender fingers lace through his, and despite himself and his vexation, it soothes him. She bends down, looking at him with empathetic eyes. "Eren... please promise me you won't go out there tomorrow. I can't let you get hurt."

A sigh leaves his breath yet again. "Fine... but, Mikasa." He looks back into her eyes now, a newfound urgency within them.

"Promise me you'll keep the people down there safe. They didn't do anything wrong, they're just getting caught up in it."

Mikasa gives his hand a reassuring squeeze.

"I promise."

---

There you have it! I know this chapter was super unbalanced. Usually I like to give a certain amount of depth to each scene, but I feel like with this the majority of my efforts fell into the EM scenes and the more plot related scenes suffered as a result. I don't think this chapter lacked any particular focus, which is the problem I've had with some of my other chapters, but I honestly just felt like I should have spent more time fleshing out these scenes. Of course, that probably would have resulted in a 25k word chapter, but I'd probably prefer that to what I ended up with. I'm not sure, I just felt like this chapter could have been a lot stronger. It's not super important, as this chapter is relatively uneventful in the grand scheme of the fic, but what did you guys think? How was the quality of the writing? How was the pacing? Be sure to leave me your thoughts and as always have a nice day! -Y