Mikasa's Plea: The Struggle for Trost
Amidst the hectic military training schedules and the chaos of life after the fall of Shiganshina, Mikasa found herself longing for quiet nights under the stars. The graduation ceremony had just concluded, and spirits were at an all-time high. Some recruits toasted to a luxurious life in the interior as military police, while others lamented their failure to rank in the top ten. The mess hall buzzed with laughter, chatter, and the clinking of glasses, a rare moment of camaraderie in their otherwise grim lives.
Mikasa would have been content to stand in silence, savoring her drink and observing the scene, but Eren's fiery speech snatched her attention. She had lost count of the number of times she'd heard his impassioned spiel about humanity's fight against the Titans. Yet, she never grew tired of listening to him. There was something magnetic about the way he spoke, the way his voice carried a weight that demanded to be heard.
Eren stood at the center of the room, his fist clenched as he spoke. "I'm going to wipe out every last Titan and leave these cramped walls!"
His voice was fierce, his eyes blazing with determination. Mikasa was always entranced by his formidable sense of purpose. It was as if the world had gathered all of humanity's anger and stuffed it into Eren. He carried it with him, a burning fire that fueled his every word and action. He would cry and scream for the lives lost. He would promise to fight for those who couldn't, even if he didn't have the power or strength. His dreams were vast, his resolve unshakable.
"That's my dream!" Eren declared, his eyes sparkling with conviction. "Humanity hasn't truly been defeated yet!"
But the mess hall didn't respond with the same fervor. Instead, an uneasy silence fell over the room, the weight of Eren's words hanging heavily in the air. The recruits exchanged uncomfortable glances, their expressions a mix of skepticism and pity. Eren faltered under their stares, his confidence wavering. He flinched, his face flushing with embarrassment, and turned to leave the room without another word.
Mikasa and Armin exchanged a glance before following him. They knew Eren better than anyone, understood the depth of his emotions and the burden he carried. As they stepped out into the cool night air, the sounds of the mess hall fading behind them, Mikasa couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness. Eren's dreams were grand, but the world was harsh, and not everyone shared his unwavering belief in humanity's victory.
They found Eren sitting on the stairs of a quiet back alley, his shoulders hunched and his hands brushing away the tears that streaked his cheeks. The faint glow of the moon and the distant shimmer of stars above cast a soft light over the scene, creating a tranquil contrast to the chaos of their lives. Slowly, Mikasa and Armin approached, their footsteps light against the cobblestones. Without a word, they each took a seat beside him, their presence a silent comfort.
For a moment, the trio sat in stillness, their eyes drawn to the vast expanse of the night sky. The stars twinkled like tiny, distant promises, a reminder of the world beyond the walls—a world Eren dreamed of exploring, a world he was determined to reclaim. The quiet was peaceful, a rare respite from the weight of their responsibilities.
"Eren," Armin muttered, his voice soft and hesitant, breaking the silence. "That stuff about your dream just now…"
Eren answered him fondly before he could finish. "Yeah, I borrowed those ideas of yours about leaving the walls and going outside."
Armin seemed to hesitate for a moment, his breath catching sharply in his throat. He turned away from Eren, his gaze fixed on some distant point ahead, as if gathering his courage. When he finally spoke, his voice was firm, resolute.
"I'm going to join the Survey Corps!" he declared, his words carrying a sense of finality.
Eren's head snapped toward Armin, his eyes wide with surprise. "Are you serious, Armin?! You were the top in classroom studies. You should put that to use!" His voice was a mix of disbelief and concern, his protective instincts kicking in.
Armin's resolve didn't waver. He kept his eyes forward, refusing to meet Eren's gaze. "I won't be a burden. Even if it costs my life," he said, his tone steady but laced with determination.
Mikasa, who had been quietly observing the exchange, decided it was the right moment to interject. "I'll join the Survey Corps too," she stated, her voice calm but firm.
Eren turned to her, his expression shifting to one of indignation. "Hey! You graduated top of the class. You should join the military police!" His words were sharp, almost pleading, as if he couldn't comprehend why they would willingly choose such a dangerous path.
But Mikasa's gaze was unwavering, her resolve as solid as steel. She didn't need to explain herself, not to Eren. Her decision was made, and nothing would sway her.
"If you join the Military Police, then I'll join the Military Police," she said, her tone matter-of-fact. "If you join the Garrison Corps, then I will too. Because you'll die an early death unless I'm around."
Her voice may have sounded flat and emotionless, but every word was steeped in unwavering conviction. It wasn't that she doubted Eren's abilities as a soldier—his top-five ranking in their class spoke volumes about his strength and determination. But Mikasa knew better than anyone the unpredictability of Titans and the chaos of battle. She wouldn't take any chances when it came to his safety.
Eren's face flushed with embarrassment, and he cradled his head in his hands, his voice quiet but tinged with frustration. "I never asked for your help," he muttered.
Mikasa's expression softened. "I don't want to lose any more of my family," she said, her tone gentler now.
At her words, the trio fell silent, their attention drawn to a sudden streak of light across the night sky—a shooting star. It was a fleeting moment, but it felt like a silent promise between them, a bond that no force could break.
Mikasa's thoughts wandered as she gazed at the stars. She worried differently for Armin and Eren. Armin, though not as physically strong as either of them, possessed a sharp mind and a strategic approach to battle. He knew when to fight and when to retreat, his intelligence often making up for what he lacked in brute strength. Eren, however, was a different story. His strength and determination were undeniable, but his judgment was often clouded by his emotions. He was impulsive, reckless, and willing to throw himself into danger without a second thought. That recklessness worried her more than anything.
But no matter what, Mikasa vowed to herself, she would watch over him. She would protect him, even if it meant putting herself in harm's way. It was a promise she had made long ago, and one she intended to keep.
Mikasa remembered this promise when Trost fell.
Captain Woermann concluded his mission briefing with a grim finality, his voice heavy with the weight of the situation. The trainee corps was dismissed, and the room erupted into a flurry of frantic activity as soldiers scrambled to prepare for the impending battle. Mikasa stood still amidst the chaos, her sharp eyes scanning the crowd for one familiar face—Eren. But all she saw was disorder. Soldiers rushed past her, their faces pale with fear, their movements erratic and uncoordinated.
Her gaze fell on Christa, who was crouched beside Daz, gently rubbing his back as he retched onto the ground. The sound of his distress made Mikasa's jaw tighten, though she showed no outward reaction. Nearby, Bertholdt and Marco stood frozen, their expressions blanketed in shock and confusion, as if they were unable to process the nightmare unfolding around them. Others were no better. Some paced aimlessly, while others slumped against the walls, clutching their heads as though trying to block out the reality of their situation.
If this wasn't a telltale sign of doom, Mikasa didn't know what was.
She heard the sound of two soldiers bumping into each other and recognized Eren and Jean. Slowly, she approached them, her footsteps silent but deliberate, and caught the tail end of their heated argument.
"You want to join the Survey Corps!" Jean yelled, his voice trembling with a mix of anger and desperation. He gripped Eren's shirt tightly in his fist, his knuckles white. "You're ready to be Titan chow anytime! But I was headed for the interior tomorrow."
Mikasa's expression remained stoic, but internally, she lamented. This was not the time for petty fights. The city was under attack, and every second wasted on arguments was a second closer to disaster.
"Just calm down," Eren replied, his voice feigning steadiness, though the tension in his shoulders betrayed him.
Jean's face twisted in frustration, his grip tightening further. "You expect me to calm down and accept death?!" he shouted.
"No!" Eren raised his voice as he pinned Jean's back to the nearby pillar. "Think back to our three years of sweat and blood!"
Mikasa halted in her tracks, her eyes narrowing as she observed the confrontation. She knew better than to step in. For a fleeting second, if the world hadn't been crumbling around them, she might have allowed herself to admire the intensity of his determination, the way his strength and resolve shone through even in the midst of chaos. But the gravity of their situation quickly pulled her back to reality. She shook off the thought, her expression hardening as she refocused on their conversation, her ears tuning in to the words exchanged between the two.
Eren's eyes burned with intensity, his brows drawn together in a fierce, almost predatory snarl. His voice was sharp, cutting through the tension like a blade.
"We came close to dying so many times during those three years!" he barked, his words echoing. "Some did die. Some ran off. Others were kicked out. But we survived, right?!" His tone was raw, filled with the weight of their shared struggles and losses.
For a moment, his expression softened, the fire in his gaze flickering into something more hopeful. "I'm sure we can survive today too!"
The soldiers slumped against the walls, their faces pale and hollow, turned their heads toward Eren, drawn by the strength of his words.
"You can just survive today and leave for the interior tomorrow!" he continued.
Eren released Jean's collar, stepping back to give the other soldier breathing space. Jean's jaw tightened as he steeled himself. He turned his attention to Daz, offering words of encouragement, though in his focus, he unintentionally overlooked Mikasa, who stood silently nearby.
As Jean walked away, Mikasa closed the distance between herself and Eren, her presence calm but commanding. "Eren," she said, her voice low and steady, "if the battle gets chaotic, come find me."
Eren's face twisted in confusion, his brows knitting together as he stared at her. "Huh?" he muttered, his tone incredulous. "We're in different squads!"
Mikasa didn't flinch. She stood firm, her dark eyes locking onto his as she explained, "If the situation falls apart, things won't go according to plan. I'll protect you." Her words were simple, yet carried an unshakable certainty.
She knew Eren well enough to anticipate his reaction. True to form, he bristled, his pride flaring up. "What the hell are you–"
Before he could finish, Captain Ian's firm voice cut through the air, sharp and authoritative. "Recruit Ackerman."
Both Eren and Mikasa turned toward their commanding officer, the tension between them momentarily suspended.
"You're in the rearguard. Special orders. Come with me."
Mikasa's heart sank. She could not have asked for worse news. Being stationed in the rearguard meant she would be far from the frontlines—far from Eren.
Her mind raced, and she countered immediately, her voice steady but laced with urgency. "I'm not skilled enough! I'll only be a burden!"
Eren, standing beside her, muttered a low "Huh?" in disbelief, his brows furrowing as he glanced at her. He knew better than anyone how capable she was, and her sudden self-doubt was jarring.
Captain Ian, however, was unmoved. "I am not asking for your opinion," he stated bluntly, his tone leaving no room for argument. "The citizens' evacuation is behind schedule. We need as many elite soldiers near them as possible."
Mikasa's fists clenched at her sides, her frustration bubbling to the surface.
"But—" she began, only to be cut off by a sharp, sudden pain in her forehead.
She winced, her hands instinctively flying to her temples as she clutched at the throbbing area. The pain forced her to shrink in on herself.
"Cut the crap, Mikasa!" Eren snapped, his voice sharp with frustration. "Quit freaking out like everyone else!"
Mikasa's expression remained stoic, but inwardly, she couldn't care less about everyone else. Her priority was Eren's safety. Everything else, the mission, the other soldiers, even humanity itself, came second. With her unmatched battle prowess, keeping Eren alive was a goal well within her reach. But she knew he wouldn't—couldn't—accept such selfish motivations. His ideals were too grand, too selfless.
"Humanity's on the verge of extinction here!" Eren's anger flared again, his voice rising as he glared at her. "This is no time to go and impose your own selfish rules."
Mikasa's eyes flickered downward, her resolve faltering. Arguing with him was futile. Eren was stubborn, unwavering in his convictions, and she knew she couldn't win this battle. If this was what he wanted, she would relent, for now.
Quietly, almost inaudibly, she murmured, "I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking clearly."
Eren's expression softened slightly, seemingly satisfied with her apology. He turned to step away, but before he could, Mikasa's hand shot out, gripping his left sleeve with surprising strength. Her touch was firm, almost desperate, stopping him in his tracks.
"I do have one thing to ask," she said, her voice low but steady.
The wind picked up, swirling around them and causing her dark hair to sway gently. Her expression was unreadable, a mask of calm, but beneath it lay a storm of emotions. She knew she had to maintain her composure, even as her heart ached.
"Please don't die."
It wasn't a request—it was a plea, a desperate wish she couldn't bear to leave unspoken. If they weren't in a public space, surrounded by the disarray of soldiers, she might have fallen to her knees and begged. But here, now, all she could do was hold onto his sleeve and hope he understood the depth of her fear. For Mikasa, Eren's survival wasn't just important—it was everything.
All she needed was for him to acknowledge her request. She knew it was an impossible thing to promise, especially in the face of the Titans' overwhelming might. Eren was only human, after all. The moment he ran out of gas or misjudged the placement of his anchors, he would be as good as dead. And with Mikasa stationed far in the rearguard, she would be powerless to save him, unaware of his fate until it was too late.
But she didn't get the response she wanted.
Instead, as if her words had struck a nerve and wounded his pride, Eren abruptly pulled away from her grasp. He turned and began walking in the opposite direction, his back rigid and his steps quick. Not a single word was exchanged as the sound of his footsteps grew quieter, the distance between them stretching further with each passing second. Mikasa stood still, her feet rooted to the ground as she watched him leave her behind.
His reaction pained her deeply. She knew she couldn't force her feelings onto him, not when his mind was consumed by his ideals of eradicating the Titans. Yet, she couldn't help but wonder: was it too much to ask for him to stay by her side? To promise her, even if it was a lie, that he would survive?
From the moment the briefing ended, Mikasa's first thoughts had been of him. She had sought him out amidst the chaos, needing to ensure his safety and well-being. She had watched with quiet vigilance as he confronted Jean, pulling him back from the brink of despair with his fiery determination. And now, even as they were about to be separated, all she wanted was for him to stay alive—to honor the final words of his mother, who had entrusted him to her care.
Eren might have left her behind. Eren might have hurt her with his rejection. But Mikasa convinced herself to relent. If this was what he wanted, if this was the path he chose, then she would step aside. She would give him the space he needed, even if it meant burying her own fears and desires.
For Eren, she would endure. For Eren, she would let go. As long as he stayed alive, she could do anything.