Mikasa's Denial: The Evacuation's Aftermath
The rain slowed to a drizzle as Mikasa delivered the final slash to the nape of the last living Titan in the vicinity. She landed gracefully on a nearby rooftop, her sharp eyes scanning the area for any remaining threats. Aside from the Titan she had just killed, three other Titan bodies lay decomposing nearby, their steaming carcasses hissing as the light patter of rain fell on the shingles. The air was thick with the acrid smell of burning flesh, but Mikasa paid it no mind. She had grown accustomed to such horrors.
She took a deep breath, allowing herself a moment to relax as she wiped the mixture of sweat and rainwater from her face. The area was safe—for now. But Mikasa knew better than to let her guard down completely. Abnormals were unpredictable, and they never waited for soldiers to be ready.
The distant toll of city bells echoed through the streets, followed by the heavy clunking of gears as the inner gate began to close. The civilians had successfully evacuated, a fact that brought a collective sigh of relief to the elite soldiers who had been tasked with their protection. Mikasa allowed herself a small exhale, her shoulders easing slightly under the weight of the news.
The sound of firm footsteps to her right signaled the arrival of Captain Ian. Immediately, Mikasa snapped to attention, saluting him with precision. He nodded in acknowledgment, his expression stern but not unkind.
"Time to withdraw, Ackerman," he ordered, his voice carrying the authority of a seasoned leader. "Let's scale the wall."
Mikasa's eyes widened slightly, her heart skipping a beat. The mission was complete. By all accounts, her duty was over, and she should have been preparing to retreat with the others. But a gnawing anxiety churned in her stomach, refusing to let her rest. There was still something—someone—she couldn't leave behind.
Without hesitation, Mikasa readied her grapples, positioning herself to face away from the gate. Her movements were swift and deliberate, betraying none of the turmoil brewing within her.
"I'll go assist the vanguard's retreat!" she called out to Captain Ian, her tone firm and resolute. It was a plausible excuse, one that masked her true intentions.
"Hey, Ackerman!" Ian's voice rang out, a note of urgency creeping into his tone. But by the time he reached out to stop her, Mikasa was already in motion. With a practiced flick of her wrists, she launched herself into the air, the cables of her ODM gear whirring as she swung toward the next rooftop.
The rain continued to fall, a quiet backdrop to the chaos that still raged in the distance. Mikasa's heart pounded in her chest, not from exertion, but from the fear of what she might find—or fail to find—in the heart of the battle. She had made her choice. No matter the cost, she would not leave without him.
Mikasa moved swiftly through the soaked streets, her ODM gear humming as she propelled herself from building to building. Her blades flashed in the dim light, cutting down any stray Titans that crossed her path. Each kill was precise and efficient, a testament to her skill and determination. Along the way, she encountered a few soldiers, both trainees and garrison recruits, who had been cornered or overwhelmed. With quick, decisive actions, she dispatched the Titans threatening them, earning grateful nods and breathless thanks.
"Just doing my job," she replied curtly, her voice calm but distant. "The evacuation is finished. Please retreat and scale the inner wall. Captain Ian's orders."
The soldiers didn't need to be told twice. They hurried off, their footsteps and gear whirring fading into the distance as they made their way to safety. Mikasa watched them go for a brief moment before turning her attention back to the task at hand.
She resumed her search, her eyes scanning the chaotic battlefield for any sign of Eren and his squad. According to the plan, they were supposed to be stationed in the middle guard, but there was no trace of them in their designated area. Mikasa's stomach churned as the possibilities raced through her mind. Had they been forced to abandon their post? Had they been overrun? The thought sent a cold wave of dread through her, but she pushed it aside, focusing instead on the steady rhythm of her movements.
Eventually, the rain stopped, granting Mikasa clear visibility. Her sharp eyes quickly landed on a group of people gathered on top of a large roof. They were either standing idly or sitting around, their ODM gear unused and seemingly wasted. She steered her anchors in their direction, landing gracefully on an adjacent building.
To conserve gas for the retreat, she decided to run the rest of the way. As she approached, the towering figures of Reiner and Bertholdt caught her attention. Her classmates were here, which meant Eren couldn't be far. Her pace quickened, her boots pounding against the rooftop as she closed the distance. Among the group, she also spotted Annie and Marco, their familiar faces standing out amidst the chaos.
"Mikasa!" Marco was the first to notice her arrival, his voice tinged with surprise. "Weren't you with the rearguard?"
Mikasa ignored his question, her focus unwavering as she strode straight toward the blonde.
"Annie!" she called out, her voice cutting through the tension. "I understand the gist of the situation."
Annie turned to face her, her expression as calm and unreadable as ever. Mikasa paused for a moment to catch her breath, her chest rising and falling rapidly. When she spoke again, her voice was softer, though no less urgent.
"I'm sorry for letting my personal matters interfere, but have you seen Eren's squad?"
If Annie sensed Mikasa's distress, she gave no indication, replying in her usual monotone drawl. "I haven't, but some squads did make it over the wall."
Did Eren retreat in advance? No, Mikasa couldn't believe that. Knowing how selfless and self-sacrificing he was, there was no way he would leave his comrades behind, especially not his classmates from the 104th. She needed more information, something concrete to guide her next steps.
As if reading her mind, Reiner pointed into the distance. "Actually, we did find Armin over there."
Mikasa's head snapped toward the direction he indicated, her sharp eyes immediately locking onto a familiar mop of blond hair. Armin was slumped against a window, his posture weary but unmistakable. Relief washed over her like a wave, though it was short-lived. She sprinted toward him, her boots pounding against the rooftop.
"Armin!" she called out, her voice cutting through the tension. The sound startled him, and he looked up, his blue eyes wide with surprise.
When she reached him, she dropped to one knee, her gaze scanning him for any signs of injury. "You're not hurt, are you?" she asked, her voice laced with concern. "Are you alright?"
Armin gulped, his face pale and drawn. He remained silent, his eyes downcast as if he couldn't bring himself to meet her gaze. Mikasa hesitated, realizing that pressing him further might only add to his distress. She decided to drop that line of questioning for now.
Standing up, she glanced around, her eyes darting left and right as she searched for any sign of Eren. Her voice was steady but urgent as she turned back to Armin. "Where's Eren?"
The million-dollar question.
For a few moments, Armin kept his head down, his shoulders trembling under the weight of unspoken grief. Mikasa watched him with a steady stare, her heart pounding in her chest. Eventually, he looked up, his blue eyes meeting hers. Tears streamed freely down his cheeks, carving paths through the dirt and grime on his face. His expression was one of pure dread, a look that spoke volumes even before he uttered a word.
Mikasa wasn't stupid. She knew what that look meant. But she refused to believe it. She couldn't.
Armin balled his fists on his knees, his knuckles whitening as he struggled to find the words. When he finally spoke, his voice cracked with each name that left his lips. "The recruits of Squad 34… Thomas Wagner, Nack Tierce, Milieus Zeremski, Mina Carolina…"
Mikasa felt a sharp, piercing pain in her chest, as if a knife had been driven into her heart. Her breath hitched, and she clenched her fists at her sides, willing herself to stay composed. But when Armin inhaled sharply, his voice breaking as he uttered the final name, her world seemed to shatter.
"...Eren Jaeger," he wailed, his voice trembling with grief. "These five members fulfilled their duties and died valiantly on the field of battle!"
The silence that followed was deafening, hanging heavy in the air like a suffocating fog. Mikasa stood frozen, her mind struggling to process the words. Her world had narrowed to Armin's tear-streaked face and the crushing weight of his confession. Eren was gone. The thought echoed in her mind, hollow and unrelenting.
Sasha's voice broke through the stillness, trembling with disbelief. "You can't be serious…"
Around them, the other soldiers began to murmur, their voices a low, uneasy hum of shock and denial. But Mikasa didn't hear them. Her focus remained locked on Armin, her sharp eyes observing every tremor that wracked his body, every tear that fell from his eyes. She saw the guilt etched into his features, the way his hands clenched and unclenched as if searching for something to hold onto.
"I'm sorry, Mikasa," Armin croaked. "It should've been me, not Eren. I wasn't able to do anything! I'm sorry!"
Mikasa's chest tightened, but her expression remained stoic. She knelt down in front of him, her movements deliberate and calm. Gently, she took his hand in hers, her touch steady despite the storm raging inside her. Armin paused, his sobs hitching as he looked at her, his blue eyes wide and searching.
"Armin," she said, her voice eerily blank, devoid of the emotion that threatened to overwhelm her. "Calm down. Now isn't the time to be emotional."
With a firm grip, she lifted him to his feet, her strength belying the numbness that had settled over her. Her mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, but her body moved on autopilot, driven by a sense of duty that refused to let her falter. She turned to the soldiers gathered on the roof, her voice cutting through the chaos like a blade.
Mikasa couldn't recall the exact words of her speech; her mind was too consumed by the suffocating weight of her grief. All that mattered was that her words had reignited the resolve of the other recruits, spurring them to action and giving them the courage to make it back to headquarters. But as she prepared to leap off the roof, one moment stood out in her memory—a horrified soldier's voice cutting through the chaos.
"You're seriously gonna take on those Titans by yourself?!" he exclaimed, his eyes wide with disbelief.
Mikasa had turned to him, her expression unreadable, her voice steady despite the storm raging inside her. "If I can't, then I'll die. It's that simple," she stated, her tone matter-of-fact. "But if I win, I'll live."
Eren's mantra echoed in her mind, a faint but persistent whisper that grounded her in the midst of her despair. "And the only way to win is to fight."
With those words guiding her, she threw herself off the roof, surrendering her body to the instinctual movements of her ODM gear. The cables whirred as they anchored into the nearest building, propelling her forward with practiced precision. The wind rushed past her, the world blurring into a haze of motion and sound.
She knew she was using too much gas, her movements reckless and inefficient. Every burst of propulsion, every swing of her blades, drained her reserves faster than she could afford. But why did it matter? Eren was gone. Dead. Never coming back. The thought echoed in her mind, a relentless drumbeat that drowned out all reason. What good was living on without him? He had been her purpose, her anchor, the reason she fought so fiercely. Without him, the world felt hollow, her existence meaningless.
As she soared through the air, her mind drifted to the final words she had left Eren. Her plea, desperate and raw, echoed in her memory.
"Please don't die."
Had it been too much to ask? Had she been foolish to hope that he would stay by her side, that he would survive the horrors they faced? The question gnawed at her, a bitter ache that refused to fade. She had given everything to protect him, to keep him safe, and yet here she was, alone, fighting a battle that no longer held any meaning.
Mikasa raced ahead of her comrades, her blades flashing as she hacked and slashed through Titans without so much as a glance backward. The rhythmic hiss of her ODM gear and the sickening crunch of severed flesh filled the air, but she barely registered the sounds. Behind her, she could hear the others following at a distance, their movements cautious and calculated under Jean's orders to engage as little as possible. But Mikasa didn't care about orders. Her posture remained rigid, her focus singular as she charged forward with unrelenting determination.
She was a hypocrite. She had always berated Eren for letting his emotions cloud his judgment, for throwing himself into danger without thinking. And yet, here she was, doing the exact same thing. The irony wasn't lost on her, but she didn't have the energy to dwell on it. Instead, she distracted herself by tunneling her vision, focusing only on the path ahead. She didn't think about regrouping, about strategizing, about survival. No, those thoughts were too heavy, too complicated. Right now, all she wanted was to keep moving, to keep fighting, until there was nothing left.
The truth was, she didn't care about winning anymore. She didn't care about living. The weight of Eren's loss had hollowed her out, leaving behind only a shell of the person she once was. Every swing of her blades, every burst of her gear, was a step closer to the end. She didn't want to think about the future, about a world without Eren. She just wanted to die.
Everything came to a stop when the final puffs of gas left her canisters. Her speed immediately dropped, the momentum carrying her body until she crashed onto one of the roofs. The impact was harsh, snapping both of her blades and sending them flying in opposite directions. She tumbled off the shingles, her body hitting an awning below, which cushioned her fall and spared her from more severe injuries.
Mikasa lay still on her back, staring blankly at the cloudy sky. Her chest rose and fell with shallow breaths, her mind numb and her body heavy. She inspected one of her grips, the mechanism now useless without gas, before pushing herself up and jumping down to kneel on the cobblestone street.
It happened again. She had lost her family again. The pain was unbearable, a horrid sense of déjà vu that made her question the cruelty of the world. Was it determined to make sure she never forgot this agony? Was this breathtakingly beautiful world truly so cruel?
She was too deep in her despair to react to the giant footsteps approaching her. The ground shook as the Titan drew near, its grotesque form looming over her. Mikasa was defenseless—her blades sheathed, her gas spent. She didn't move, didn't flinch, as the Titan reached out to grab her.
But then, something inside her stirred. A strong pulse surged through her body, a primal instinct she couldn't ignore. In less than a second, she deployed her blade and sliced through the Titan's fingers, severing them before they could close around her. She jumped back, her movements sharp and precise, but her mind was clouded with confusion.
She wanted to give up. She had given up. This was her chance to die, to escape the pain. So why was she fighting back?
The Titan roared, its massive hand now missing fingers, and lunged at her again. Mikasa dodged its advances, her body moving on autopilot as she avoided the debris and destruction left in its wake. The Titan stumbled over a pile of rocks, giving her a moment to steady her footing. But as she inched backward, her eyes never leaving the enemy before her, she heard another thud behind her. She turned to see a second Titan approaching.
This was bad. She couldn't fend off two Titans like this, not without gas or a clear plan. Her heart pounded in her chest, but her mind remained eerily calm. It was in this moment of desperation that she remembered Eren—his voice, his words, his unyielding spirit.
"Fight! Fight!"
The memory cut through her despair like a blade, clearing her mind and reigniting her will to survive. The weight of her actions finally dawned on her. Eren wouldn't have wanted her to die like this. He wouldn't have allowed her to give up. He had fought for her, for Armin, for humanity, even when the odds were stacked against him. And now, she had to do the same.
She had to fight. She had to win. If she died here, all memories of Eren would die with her. She couldn't let that happen. She wouldn't let that happen. With a loud cry, she readied her blade and held her ground, her resolve unshakable despite the odds stacked against her.
But before she could act, the ground beneath her trembled violently. A deafening roar filled the air as the Titan behind her lunged forward, its massive hand slamming into the Titan in front of her. The force of the blow sent the first Titan crashing backward, its body crumpling under the sheer power of the attack. Mikasa was thrown off her feet, landing hard on the ground, but miraculously unharmed. Blood splattered around her as she scrambled to her knees, her eyes wide with shock.
Her gaze snapped to the source of the chaos—a Titan with long, shaggy brown hair. It stood tall and imposing, its movements deliberate and ferocious. Mikasa couldn't look away as it descended on the fallen Titan, its heels pounding into the creature's body with brutal efficiency. Each strike was accompanied by a sickening squelch, the sound of flesh being torn apart echoing through the air. The brown-haired Titan trampled on the nape of its victim repeatedly, ensuring its complete destruction. The walls around them were painted crimson, a grotesque testament to the violence unfolding before her eyes.
Mikasa's breath caught in her throat. A Titan killing another Titan? It was unheard of, something she couldn't believe even as she witnessed it with her own eyes. Her mind raced, trying to make sense of what she was seeing. Titans didn't attack each other. They were mindless creatures, driven only by their insatiable hunger for humans. And yet, here was one, acting with a purpose, defending her.
Her heart pounded as she stared at the brown-haired Titan, her thoughts swirling with questions and disbelief. But amidst the chaos, one thought rose above the rest: this Titan was different. And somehow, inexplicably, it had saved her life.
Maybe this was Eren speaking to her from beyond. Maybe this was his way of reminding her to live on, to keep fighting even in the face of despair. The thought flickered in her mind, a fragile hope that she clung to despite the absurdity of it. Was this really Eren? A small part of her dared to wonder, to believe that somehow, someway, he was still with her.
But no, she couldn't delude herself. She knew better than to let her grief twist reality.
Mikasa set her wishes aside. She had spent so much time questioning, doubting, and grieving. But now, as she stood amidst the chaos, she realized that the answers didn't matter. What mattered was honoring Eren's wishes, even after his death. That's what he would have wanted, wasn't it? For her to keep moving forward, to keep fighting for the future they had dreamed of together.
The fight wasn't over. The Titans were still out there, and so was she. For Eren, for Armin, for humanity, she would keep fighting. She would survive. And she would carry his memory with her, no matter where the path led.
For him, she'd do anything.