Such was Mikasa's surprise at finding Armin loitering in Eren and Historia's house at the worst possible time, it took walking a full block for her to begin to process how pressed against him she had been in that little upstairs closet. How his breath quickened in the dark. She cringed as the pit dropped in her stomach.
Yes, she had knocked him over, persuaded him into a closet, and sneezed on the man. Her lips pursed into a frown and she was grateful that he was no longer around to see the burning color that painted her cheeks. The pit in her stomach twisted now to a knot. Even after getting out, he had pretty much clammed up and she could hardly blame him.
Armin had been an outlying recurrence in her social circle ever since the day that Eren met Historia. Or, rather, the day that Eren had stared openly, and open-mouthed, across the entrance hall of the symphony before traipsing right over to where the two had stood chatting, unwitting to the imminent disruption that was about to waylay their conversation (and their lives). Levi had yet to invite her or Eren to a symphony concert since then.
She wiped her nose on the back of her sleeve and sprang up the steps of the bus. It would be a pleasure to remind Eren that she had half-dragged him to that concert in the first place. She picked fuzz from her sweatpants. Eren getting married. It was hard to believe, but then again she had never known him to abandon that which he had set his mind to. And from the moment he saw Historia, his mind had been made up.
Sasha and Annie ambushed her as soon as she stepped foot into the dressing room. Which really meant that Sasha had thrown herself onto Mikasa while Annie sent her a questioning look from her spot at the mirror.
"Oh my god, where were you? We thought you were going to be late."
Sasha shook Mikasa's shoulders before releasing her toward her seat beside Annie.
"Me, too," Mikasa admitted. "I got held up at Eren's."
Annie gave a newly curious stare. Sasha practically vibrated.
"Did he do it? Do you know how it went yet?"
Mikasa nodded, somehow a suspicious enough motion that Annie leaned in.
"Did something happen?"
Mikasa looked between them. Slowly.
"I had finished setting everything up, but Eren and Historia got home early."
"He didn't tell you he was on his way?" Sasha said, volume rising.
"No."
Annie scoffed and muttered, "Of course."
"I know. But - "
Sasha was half on top of the dressing desk. Even Annie had developed a sparkle in her eye. Mikasa leaned closer.
"Historia's brother, Armin, was there."
Annie leaned back and spiraled her hair into a bun.
"Why?"
"Something about dropping off a keyboard."
"After you got out?"
"No. No, we didn't get out. It - We - "
She paused painfully long, debating letting her tongue grasp the words, before Sasha cried out.
"Spit it out!"
"We hid in a closet," she rushed out.
Sasha's guffaw echoed through the dressing room. Mikasa gathered her hair into a tight bun.
"Shut the fuck up," Annie said before beginning a low laugh alongside Sasha's fit.
"No, it was bad," she said quietly, pulling the ribbons of her pointe shoe around one ankle. Sasha's reaction had evolved to a silent plea for Mikasa to say she was kidding. Annie hid a reticent smile in the sweater that she had just peeled off. Mikasa glared.
"You can't tell anyone. Not even Eren. Promise?"
They swore their fealty through broken gasps. Even though, truthfully, she had no idea whether Armin had already told Historia everything.
In the practice room, after a few minutes at the barre, Sasha let out a giggle. Annie chuckled under her breath in response. The rehearsal coordinator poked their head into the room of ballerinas before they could say any more on the subject.
"Five to stage!"
Sasha rounded off a plié before leaning in to whisper,
"Wait, isn't Eren coming to rehearsal today?"
"I don't see how he couldn't."
"What kind of a dumbass proposes on his lunch break?" Annie hissed. Sasha and Mikasa turned.
"Eren," they said in unison.
Who, as it turned out, would arrive fifteen minutes late to receive a death glare from the director. Fortunately for him, Mikasa thought from the side wings, he always seemed to work his way back into good graces. She was soon ushered to join him onstage for their pas de deux.
"So late," Mikasa muttered under her breath.
"You know why."
Eren held a romantic expression on his face as he assumed position, not keen to re-induce the director's ire, but Mikasa knew that he was mentally rolling his eyes at her.
"Besides," he whispered, "Aren't you going to ask me how it went?"
So Armin had not said anything.
Yet.
She lifted to pointe without another word to Eren.
The remainder of rehearsal went smoothly enough. They received a few notes, but it appeared that their work might pay off and save them from receiving the director's full wrath. 'Them' being Eren, who was profusely apologizing at that very moment. Mikasa and Annie exchanged glances as they stretched out. Sasha groaned.
"He's just going to get out of trouble again."
"To be fair," Annie said, "We're a week out from opening night. What good would it do for him to be in trouble?"
Mikasa agreed but added, "He better not be late again, though. Brzenska might actually do something about it one day."
Rico Brzenska had shown herself to be a generally patient director, but Eren tended to try that patience on a regular basis. Annie shook her head.
"No, you and Eren dance it too well. She won't sacrifice the show over a few minutes."
"As if you and Marcel don't also dance great together."
At the reciprocated compliment, Annie shied away, reverting to a dry tone.
"Yeah, well, I don't want to do every show. My feet need the breaks."
Thankfully, Eren had once again escaped Rico Brzenska without a scratch and wandered back to them. Sasha could not contain herself.
"I heard you proposed to Historia, Eren! What did she say?"
Eren cast a wild grin down.
"Yes."
Sasha let out a whoop and rose to join Eren in spreading the news across the sprawl of dance company members that still remained.
"You were really in a closet with Historia's brother?" Annie said once they were out of earshot.
"Yeah."
"What did he say?"
"Nothing."
Mikasa glanced away. Annie spared her a smirk, but it quickly dropped from her expression; she had a more pressing topic in mind.
"Have you been keeping an eye on Sasha?" Annie said, voice low. Mikasa nodded, arms stretching forward as she folded.
"Of course."
"And?"
"She's doing well."
Mikasa watched Sasha kneel down to laugh with some of the ballet corps and her chest grew tight. It was not unheard of for a dancer, but Mikasa found herself gripped with worry over it at times anyway.
"It's been at least two months as far as I know."
"So the therapy is going well?"
"I think so. She looks healthier, don't you think?"
"Yes. Her jumps are looking strong, too."
She and Annie could go on, likely. It had not taken long between the two of them to figure it out. Such was the amount of time they spent together. Sasha's disordered eating had come with more heartbreak than surprise for Mikasa. The thought of their last director still brought a scowl to her lips.
Her report regarding his treatment of the dancers had been one of a multitude of complaints, of which it took a great many more before firing him was even considered. They were all sure that Annie's harassment report had been the last straw. It was a straw which was made all the heavier thanks to Annie's father being a well-established donor to their dance company. Mikasa also believed that Annie might have kept matters much more private, as was her way, but that she made it a point to make it public. Yes, it had no doubt been the most valuable effort of them all to oust the man.
"I'm glad," Annie said. "Why do you look so mad?"
Mikasa blinked her glare away and relaxed her mouth.
"I was remembering Zackly."
"Bastard."
They helped each other off the floor and went to reabsorb Sasha into their pod. It was not necessary, per se, but they had made a habit of gently offering to be dinner partners to her. Sasha, to her credit, had made a habit of accepting.
"Ready for opening night, Annie?"
"I will be."
Sasha elbowed her. "Things were looking a little spicy up there today with Marcel."
Mikasa nodded and sent an elbow to Annie's other side. It would be impossible for a dancer to not be influenced by their partner, of course. Although no one in the company would have predicted that the newest principal might bring out an emotional range in Annie, of all things. Annie did not deign to defend against their teasing, her focus shifting.
"Would you look at that," Annie said, voice low and teasing. Sasha let out a long vowel under her breath. Mikasa was promptly elbowed in both sides.
A rather startled Armin had just made eye contact with her from the end of the corridor. She stared as his eyes flicked anxiously between the three of them. His hand tightened around the strap that hung on his shoulder as he traveled the length of the hall, coming to a stop a good few feet away.
'Hi' was the word she was searching for, but instead she clipped out a short, "What are you doing here?"
Sasha's breath hitched into a swallowed giggle. Annie did not even bother hiding the quirk at the corner of her lips. Armin stammered.
"For music. I mean, to pick up sheet music." He looked desperately at the door to the stage. "Do you know where Mr. Magath is? Is he in the pit?"
"Probably."
Mikasa's voice was so much more stiff than she meant it to be. Armin nodded, a quick little motion.
"Ok. Thanks."
She blinked away from him, chewing on her lip, counting down the seconds until he disappeared.
"Are you playing for the show?" Sasha blurted out. Mikasa gave her a long side eye.
"Sort of. Well, yes. I don't know if you know about the violinists?"
Annie chuckled as Sasha let out a laugh. Even Mikasa broke a grin. Armin caught her looking at him again. She glanced down.
"Everyone knows about the violinists," Annie deadpanned.
"You're playing?" Mikasa said suddenly, finding some semblance of normalcy at last.
"Yeah. You - You're dancing the lead, right?"
Mikasa motioned to Annie. "Annie, too."
She swallowed the rising feeling in her throat as she remembered her embarrassment, then she tried to alleviate the confused expression on his face.
"We alternate performances. It's easier on the body."
He was now avoiding making eye contact as much as she was. A few final niceties such as 'nice to meet you' and 'bye' were uttered before he excused himself and wrenched open the stage door. She focused on the floor until the sound of the door pulling shut rang through the hall. Annie raised an eyebrow.
"Easier on the body?"
