"I've been looking all over for you," Sasha lamented loudly, encircling Mikasa in a full hug from behind.
"Sasha," Mikasa chided, though she hardly seemed to mind.
It still was a shock to Armin how physically at ease all of the dancers were with each other. Connie, in contrast, sidled up to Armin from a healthy distance. If he thought about it, Connie did always seem mindful of his space.
"Were you talking to Mrs. Tybur?" Connie breathed in disbelief.
Sasha laughed at something and gripped Mikasa's arm. Mikasa shot a look of exasperation to Armin, but he had a hard time imagining she could ever hold Sasha in any sort of contempt. He blinked and wondered when he was supposed to look away, if ever.
"So?" Connie said slowly.
"Sorry," he rushed out in reply. "Mrs. Tybur— Well, I guess. I don't know why, though."
Which was hardly true, but he struggled to come to terms with the idea that he might have anything to do with securing that sort of funds for the symphony.
"She was talking to me about how much she loves the symphony," Armin added. An involuntary shudder ran through him.
"Pretty big deal. She normally only ever talks to Erwin. And to think you weren't planning on coming."
Armin shrugged at Connie's smirk. But Connie had an effortless way of joking that was impossible to take as anything but good-natured, and Armin ended up sporting a grin anyway.
"Levi practically threatened me," Armin said, only half-sarcastic. Connie's laugh was lighthearted as ever.
"Man, same. He was all, 'You know all of the sponsors come to this thing.' Well, he said it different."
"We both have to be there," Armin said in his best stern Levi voice.
It was a terrible impression, but Connie still chuckled.
"He said the same thing to me. Like, why not just tell us we have to be here?"
Armin nodded his agreement as something occurred to him.
"You didn't want to come?" He said. He would have assumed Connie enjoyed these sorts of affairs.
"Oh, I don't mind. I'm a big fan of the free food and alcohol, obviously. It's just– I don't know, some of our patrons can be a little," Connie trailed off.
"Pushy?" Armin offered.
"Yeah. It kind of takes the party out of party, you know what I mean? It would be more fun if we had one just for the symphony. Now that would be a good party. Imagine Levi drunk? I bet he's more fun than he looks. And Erwin?"
Erwin Smith, not in absolute control? They both grinned at the thought, but Connie was soon distracted by a small group of familiar faces, one of whom was waving jovially at Armin.
"Do you know them?" Connie asked.
Armin blinked twice. It was the trumpets from the ballet pit, and Bertolt, the cellist.
No, he silently corrected himself, Reiner and Porco. Bertolt stood shyly behind them, a full head above most of the crowd. Not that Reiner was far behind in terms of stature. Porco blended in just fine. That was, except for his very sharp-looking suit and distinct ability to smirk and glare simultaneously.
"They're in the ballet orchestra," Armin said, surprise weaving its way into his voice.
"Did you invite them?" Connie asked slowly, clearly trying to figure out if they were even allowed to invite more than one guest. Which, no, they were not.
"No," Armin replied, also wondering how they ended up there, "No, only Mikasa."
And, for that matter, he had not exactly invited her. Not that he was not growing happier each moment that she had offered her company to him. When he glanced toward her, he met her already watching eyes.
"Erwin, maybe?" Connie posited.
"Maybe," Armin agreed as Reiner broke the border of their small group; Porco and Bertolt were close behind.
"Armin!" Reiner exclaimed, seeming well buzzed on champagne. "And–"
Reiner paused as he spied their very own prima ballerina coming to a standstill right beside Armin.
"– Mikasa," Reiner finished with a warmth that almost hid his shock.
Armin watched Mikasa rapidly scan the trio with only a hint of recognition. Of course, he doubted they had ever spent much time, if any, together. She would have seen them in the halls at most, likely.
"Reiner," Armin replied in a pleasant way that sounded foreign on his tongue– It was a way of speaking that, until now, he had wondered if he had lost altogether. "Reiner is principal trumpet for the ballet–"
"Yes," Porco said haughtily, "and I'm just the second chair. Sorry to disappoint."
Armin had not fully understood the depth of tension between Reiner and Porco. There had always been an inkling at it, he thought, that he had seen in his brief stint in the ballet pit. But this was something else.
Reiner sent a wary look to his companion before addressing the group at large apologetically.
"It's been a long night."
Porco took a large swig from his glass. Bertolt cleared his throat.
"I'm Bertolt," he said simply.
Connie and Sasha were friendly and easy to introduce themselves, lightening the mood in an instant. Mikasa watched Sasha laughing with such pride that Armin felt it emanate off her. Even Porco appeared less sullen, though his dark eyes had not quite lifted. Armin said it, then.
"Do you want to meet Pieck?"
Porco looked up so quickly and intensely, Armin feared he had said something awful. Even Reiner and Bertolt stopped their conversation with Connie and Sasha, heads lifting toward Armin. Mikasa kept her usual passive expression, but Armin was sure he sensed the ghost of a smile at the corner of her lips.
"I saw her earlier," Armin said, glancing nervously at Connie.
"Yeah," Connie chimed in. "Oh, yeah, I'm pretty sure she's up on the mezzanine with Hitch and Marlowe."
Relief flooded Armin's limbs. Porco glanced anxiously to the mezzanine that overlooked the main hall.
"I wouldn't want to impose," he said slowly, looking between Connie and Armin.
Connie, thankfully, was more than adept in such things. He did not seem to need to think twice as he laughed easy and assured Porco,
"Oh, you'd be rescuing her! I bet Hitch and Marlowe are driving her crazy. Hey, how'd you get invited to the gala, by the way? Was it Erwin?"
Armin and Mikasa followed a few steps behind on the journey to the grand staircase. According to Reiner, it was indeed Erwin who had extended the invite to the ballet pit orchestra members; something of a good faith gesture and a 'thank you' for selecting their substitutes straight from the symphony earlier that season. It had already been a few months since then, Armin realized.
Mikasa stopped in her tracks when his fingers encircled hers.
Their pause did not escape Sasha's notice, but Mikasa waved reassuringly with her free hand until Sasha, unsuccessfully concealing a laugh, resumed the procession up the steps with Connie. Armin did not care, though. He had to say this.
"Thank you. For coming, I mean," he said. It was quiet, but it was sure. "I should have invited you. Properly."
Mikasa's eyes widened before dropping shyly to the floor.
"That's–"
Armin had only recently come to know this rare habit of hers: leaving sentences to hang in midair when she did not know how to voice her thoughts. It was not a side that she showed often.
"I wanted to," he added, if there had been any room for doubt.
She slowly lifted her gaze. He had chosen the worst location possible to stop her because they had become a boulder in the stream of bodies that flowed to and from the staircase. He pulled her a few feet away, to a calmer corner, where they stood closer than simple conversation necessitated. She spoke this time.
"You wanted to invite me?"
He nodded.
"Here?" She clarified, cheeks growing visibly pink.
A rare sight, indeed. He resisted the urge to lift his fingers to her cheek.
"Anywhere," he said honestly, his voice running dry from nerves.
She lifted her face. Something he had not seen before crossed her features.
"To dinner?" She suggested.
"When?"
He met her eyes. She looked up, away, then back to him.
"Now?"