Mikasa spent the days following regiment selection in a haze, the whirlwind of events leaving her disoriented. The morning after the ceremony, they had departed for the Survey Corps headquarters and were thrust immediately into a grueling training regimen. Their commanding officers, though sympathetic, had made it clear: time was a luxury they couldn't afford. The next expedition was only a month away, and they had to be ready physically, mentally, and emotionally. There was no room for hesitation, no time to dwell on the past.
By the time Squad Leader Ness concluded the lesson on the long-range scouting formation, Mikasa and her group were utterly drained. They trudged toward the mess hall in silence, the prospect of another meal of bland military rations—a roll of bread and a bowl of soup—doing little to lift their spirits. The stables they passed along the way were quiet, the horses resting after a long day. No one spoke; the exhaustion was too heavy, the weight of their responsibilities too immense. Even the thought of gear maintenance later that evening felt like an insurmountable task, sapping what little energy Mikasa had left.
"Hey, Mikasa! Armin!"
The voice cut through the silence, sharp and familiar. Armin turned first, his face lighting up with a bright smile. Mikasa followed suit, her eyes widening in shock as she saw Eren sprinting toward them. He was here. Alive. Whole. Dressed in the green Survey Corps coat, he looked clean, rested, and most importantly, happy. Relief flooded her chest, but her hands hovered awkwardly at her sides, unsure of what to do.
"Eren," she breathed, her voice barely above a whisper.
"It feels like it's been forever!" Eren exclaimed, his voice brimming with joy.
His eyes sparkled with a light Mikasa hadn't seen in weeks, and for a moment, she allowed herself to bask in the warmth of his presence.
But her relief was short-lived. Her mind quickly shifted to darker thoughts, her protective instincts surging to the forefront.
"Have they mistreated you in any way?" she asked urgently, grabbing his hand in hers. Her grip was firm, almost desperate, as if letting go would mean losing him all over again. "Like studying and examining every bit of you or putting you through mental anguish?"
Her eyes searched his face, scanning for any sign of discomfort or pain. She needed to know he was okay, that he hadn't been subjected to the same cruelty she had witnessed in the courtroom. The memory of Levi's brutal assault on Eren was still fresh in her mind—the blood, the bruises, the way he had choked on his own pain. It haunted her, a constant reminder of how close she had come to losing him.
"No, not at all," Eren reassured her, his voice steady and sincere.
Mikasa's jaw tightened, her expression darkening. She clicked her tongue, her rage simmering just beneath the surface.
"That pipsqueak went way too far," she muttered, her voice low and venomous. "Someday, I will make him pay."
It wasn't an empty threat. Mikasa meant every word. Levi's actions in the courtroom had crossed a line, and she had no intention of letting it slide. For now, all she could do was vent her frustration through petty insults, but she vowed to herself that she would find a way to hold him accountable.
Eren shot her an incredulous look, his brow furrowing in confusion. "Are you talking about Captain Levi?"
But before she could mutter any more curses, the voices of their friends interrupted them. Mikasa let go of Eren's hand but stayed firmly beside him, her presence a silent reassurance.
"Hey, Eren!" Connie called out, carrying a mix of excitement and relief.
Sasha's bubbly voice followed, "Long time, no see!"
Mikasa's expression softened as she watched them greet Eren, their camaraderie a small comfort amidst the chaos.
"Oh! You're all here," Eren exclaimed, his face lighting up with happiness.
He scanned their faces one by one—Christa, Connie, Sasha, Bertholdt, and Reiner. But as his gaze lingered, his smile faltered. He turned to Mikasa, his eyes filled with uncertainty.
"If you're here," he began hesitantly, "does that mean you joined the Corps?"
Connie grinned, his tone light and teasing. "Why else would we be here?"
Eren's expression grew somber as he took note of who wasn't present. "Then just Jean, Annie, and Marco joined the Military Police?"
Before anyone could respond, the sound of approaching footsteps drew their attention. They turned to see Jean walking toward them, his expression hardened, his usual bravado replaced by something darker.
"Wait, you too?!" Eren shouted in disbelief.
Jean's face remained stoic as he delivered the news. "Marco's dead."
Eren's breath hitched, his voice cracking as he repeated, "What did you just say? Did you say Marco's dead?"
Mikasa clenched her jaw, her heart sinking. She had hoped to break the news to Eren later, after they'd had a chance to enjoy their reunion. But it was too late now. The weight of Marco's death hung heavily in the air, casting a shadow over the moment.
Jean's voice was steady, though his eyes betrayed his grief. "Apparently not everyone can die in a dramatic way. I don't even know how he went out."
The group fell into an uneasy silence, the reality of Marco's death sinking in.
Jean bitterly continued, "He died all alone, without anyone knowing or seeing."
The words lingered, heavy and suffocating. Mikasa glanced at Eren, her chest tightening at the look of devastation on his face. She wanted to say something, to offer some comfort, but the words wouldn't come. Before she could gather her thoughts, Squad Leader Ness's voice cut through the silence.
"Hey! Gather 'round, rookies," he called out. "Your uniforms are here."
Reluctantly, Mikasa turned away from Eren, joining the others as they approached the commanding officers. She accepted her uniform, running her fingers over the soft fabric. The Survey Corps crest, embroidered with care, stood out proudly against the green cloak. She unfolded it and held it up, the fabric catching the gentle breeze. For a moment, she simply stood there, the weight of the cloak in her hands a tangible reminder of the path she had chosen.
Wordlessly, she draped it over her shoulders, the fabric settling comfortably against her frame. This cloak, simple as it was, symbolized her commitment to the Corps. There was no turning back now. Her gaze shifted to Eren, who stood a short distance away, watching them with a bittersweet smile. His eyes held a mix of pride and sorrow, and Mikasa found herself clinging to that expression. It was better than the pain she had seen in him before, and for now, that was enough.
"They look incredible!" Ness commented, his voice brimming with pride as he surveyed the cadets in their new uniforms. "Don't you think so, Eren?"
Eren nodded, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Yeah," he confirmed. "Took you guys long enough!"
Armin shot back with a playful grin, "That's unfair. You had a head start!"
Mikasa found herself chuckling softly, the sound light and unexpected. The moment felt serene, a rare pocket of peace amidst the chaos of their lives. She basked in the warmth of their camaraderie, something she had missed dearly during the grueling days of separation and worry. The others chimed in with similar remarks, their voices overlapping in a chorus of teasing and laughter. Reiner even went as far as putting Eren in a playful headlock, his deep laugh rumbling through the group.
"Come on, now!" Ness called out, though his tone was more amused than stern. "You'll have more time to goof around after dinner!"
The group snapped to attention, saluting in unison. "Yes, sir!"
As the others began to disperse, Mikasa lingered for a moment, her eyes fixed on Eren. She hesitated, then inched closer, her fingers brushing against his wrist. Eren let out a surprised sound, his gaze shifting to her. Mikasa avoided his eyes, a faint blush coloring her cheeks as she worried about overstepping. But Eren, ever perceptive, adjusted her grip, his hand slipping into hers and giving it a gentle squeeze.
"What's up with you?" he asked, his tone light-hearted but laced with curiosity. "I'm not going anywhere."
Mikasa stammered, her words catching in her throat. "I—"
"Hurry up, you two!" Armin's voice rang out, interrupting her. He stood a short distance away, waving at them with an impatient grin.
Eren turned, his hand still firmly holding Mikasa's. "We'll be right there!" he called back, his voice carrying over the distance.
Without another word, he tugged Mikasa forward, his grip warm and reassuring. They jogged toward the mess hall, Eren's smile infectious as it spread across his face. Mikasa couldn't help but feel her cheeks grow warmer, the blush deepening as she tried to hide her face in her scarf. She blamed it on the sunset, the golden hues casting a warm glow over everything. But deep down, she knew it was more than that. It was the comfort of his presence, the unspoken bond between them, and the quiet joy of being together again.
Their rambunctious group huddled together at one table during dinner, with the exception of Christa, who opted to sit with Ymir. Although the benches were ideally made for a total of only six people—three on each side—they insisted on squeezing in four, even if it meant their shoulders bumped as they ate. The cramped space did little to dampen their spirits, though.
"I thought that we'd finally get some good grub once we got in the Corps," Sasha lamented, her mouth half-full as she chewed on her bread. "Can't we get something better?"
Mikasa, ever the stickler for rules, shot her a sharp look. "Don't talk when you're eating."
Sasha pouted but continued sulking, her disappointment evident.
Jean snickered, leaning back in his seat. "You think we have the budget for that? They already think we're a waste of taxes!"
"Hey, Jean—" Armin interjected, his voice tinged with worry as he tried to prevent an argument from breaking out.
Connie, oblivious to the tension, pointed his spoon at Jean and Sasha before chiming in. "I'd take this over field rations, though. Those things are nasty!"
"Surely there's something better," Sasha whined, puffing out her cheeks in frustration. She turned to Eren, her eyes pleading. "Hey, Eren, you've been here longer. Isn't there anything else to eat?"
Eren took a big gulp of water before responding. "Not really. It's always the same thing," he said with a shrug. "There's tea in the kitchen, though. The guys at the Special Ops Squad love it."
Armin perked up at the mention of tea. "I'd love to get some," he said, his tone brightening.
"I'll ask them later," Eren promised.
Sasha, however, was unimpressed. "That's still not food!" she protested, crossing her arms.
Before the conversation could devolve further, a sharp voice cut through the chatter. "Oi."
All heads turned to see Captain Levi standing nearby, his arms crossed and his expression as unreadable as ever. "Hurry up and finish your dinner. You still have gear maintenance. I won't be waiting for your sorry asses if you get locked in the equipment room."
Eren nearly choked on his water. "Captain Levi, sir!" he sputtered, his voice a mix of surprise and respect.
Mikasa, on the other hand, felt her mood plummet instantly. Her jaw tightened, and her hands clenched into fists under the table. She glared at Levi, her anger simmering just beneath the surface.
Armin, sensing her ire, placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder before addressing their superior. "We'll be there soon, sir!" he replied nervously, his voice wavering slightly.
Levi's expression didn't change.
"Tch," he muttered. "Make it quick."
With that, he turned and walked away, leaving the group scrambling to finish their meals. Plates and utensils clattered as they hurriedly gathered everything, their earlier banter replaced by a sense of urgency. Mikasa lingered for a moment, her eyes still fixed on the spot where Levi had stood, before reluctantly joining the others as they trotted toward the maintenance room.
The dull clanking of metal and the hiss of gas filled the air as Mikasa and the others entered the maintenance room. Soldiers, both fresh recruits and seasoned veterans, were scattered around, wiping down the various parts of their ODM gear. The scene was familiar, reminiscent of their days as trainees. Ideally, maintenance was done during daylight hours when the sunlight made the task easier, but their packed schedule left them no choice but to work late into the evening.
Their group was the last to arrive, with some squads already finished and heading off to rest. They found an empty spot and opened their respective crates, diving into the routine of cleaning and inspecting their gear. An hour passed quickly as they shared tips on maneuvering techniques and swapped lighthearted stories. By the time they were done, the room was nearly empty, leaving their group to monopolize the space.
Mikasa let out a quiet huff as she stacked the last crate. Her eyes drifted to Eren, who stood nearby with Armin and Jean. He looked troubled, his brows furrowed as he stared at the ground. Sensing the heavy silence that had fallen over them, Mikasa quickly made her way over.
"Are you guys really joining the expedition?" Eren asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper.
"Yes," Mikasa replied without hesitation, her tone firm. "We're taking part in the upcoming operation too."
Jean, ever the provocateur, leaned in with a pointed question. "Hey, Eren, I heard you tried to kill Mikasa when you turned into a Titan. What's that all about?"
Mikasa's stomach dropped. She hadn't told anyone but Armin about that incident. How did Jean know? And even if others had heard, the matter had been settled in court. They had all accepted the instability of Eren's Titan power, especially since it was beyond his control. Still, she felt the need to defend him.
"It's not like that," she interjected. "He was swatting at a fly."
Internally, she cringed. Couldn't she have come up with a better lie? Jean clearly wasn't convinced.
"I'm not asking you," Jean said. He gestured to his right cheek. "Actually, Mikasa, that cut on your cheek looks pretty deep. When did you get it?"
Instinctively, Mikasa pulled her hair over the scar, but it was too late. Jean knew exactly what he was talking about. She bit her lip and turned away, her frustration mounting.
"Apparently, it's true," Eren admitted quietly, his voice heavy with guilt. "I tried to kill Mikasa when I was in Titan form."
Neither of them could meet the others' eyes, their gazes fixed on the floor as if their shoes held the answers to their problems.
"Apparently?" Jean repeated, skeptical. "Meaning you don't remember?"
Eren nodded, his expression pained.
"So, basically, you never knew about this Titan ability of yours until now, and you don't have full control over it?" Jean pressed, his voice rising.
"Yeah. That's right," Eren admitted, barely audible.
The others gasped, the revelation hitting them like a punch to the gut. Jean sighed, his frustration evident as he addressed the group.
"Hear that, guys? Sounds like this is the current situation. Our lives and the lives of all humankind rest on his shoulders. We'll probably end up just like Marco too: dead before Eren knows it."
Mikasa's jaw tightened. She didn't appreciate Jean's fear-mongering, worried that his words would only add to the pressure Eren was already under.
"What's the point in chastising Eren now?" she asked, her voice tinged with agitation.
Jean held his ground. "Not everyone is willing to die for Eren like you."
Mikasa flinched, knowing there was truth in his words. Ever since they were children, she had been willing to lay down her life for Eren without a second thought. Whether it was protecting him from bullies or carrying the heavier load of firewood, she had always put him first. That same devotion carried over into her resolve as a soldier. But she also knew that everyone had their own reasons for enlisting, and not all of them were as personal as hers.
"We should know what we're laying down our lives for," Jean continued, his tone grim. "Otherwise, we'll end up hesitating when the time comes. We're asking Eren for a guarantee. Show us what you're worth so we can see if our lives are worth as much."
Mikasa watched as Jean stepped closer to Eren, his hands gripping the boy's shoulders. He leaned in, his eyes boring into Eren's trembling frame.
"We're really counting on you, you hear?!" he pleaded, emotions bursting.
"Y-yeah," Eren stammered, frozen in place.
"That's enough, Jean," Mikasa said firmly, stepping between them and gently pulling them apart.
The tension in the room was palpable, eerily reminiscent of the days when she had broken up their fights during training. She kept her hands on Eren, her touch soft but reassuring as she looked at him with quiet concern.
"How about we rest now?" Christa suggested nervously, her voice breaking the silence. "It's been a long day. We'll feel better tomorrow."
Miraculously, Connie and Sasha took the hint, jumping up from their spots and heading for the door. "I'm absolutely pooped!" Sasha exclaimed. "See you guys tomorrow!"
One by one, the others filed out of the room, leaving Mikasa and Eren alone. Armin was the last to go, casting them a worried glance before closing the door behind him. Eren didn't move from his position, staring intently at the ground with his fists clenched tightly. Mikasa stood silently by his side, unsure whether to comfort him or give him space. At that moment, he was unreadable, his emotions locked behind a mask of frustration and guilt.
"I guess I never apologized for that, huh?" Eren said sheepishly, breaking the silence. He softened his expression, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. "Sorry."
"It's alright. You didn't know," Mikasa reassured him, her voice gentle as she touched the faint scar on her cheek.
"Still," he emphasized, his tone growing heavier as he fell into a self-deprecating tirade. "It shouldn't have happened. I should control it better. It's the only thing I can actually do on the battlefield, and I can't even do it well."
His hand moved from his neck to grip a fistful of his hair, his frustration boiling over. "There's no way I can guarantee Jean or anyone that this is all worth it."
Mikasa reached out, her fingers gently prying his hand away from his hair. "Stop that, Eren. You're hurting yourself."
She sighed, her touch lingering as she intertwined her fingers with his. "And don't mind Jean. He'll be fine. Worry about yourself."
Eren seemed distant, his gaze unfocused as he struggled to process her words. "But he's right," he said bitterly. "They're all laying their lives down. Even you. And you got injured because of me…"
"I chose this," Mikasa said firmly.
She grabbed his other hand, forcing him to face her. "I want to lay my life down for you. To protect you."
Tears welled in his eyes, his voice trembling. "You shouldn't. You should've enlisted in the Military Police."
Mikasa's heart ached, torn between anguish and frustration. "Do you think I'll be happy there? Eren, all I've ever wanted is to stay with you! Is that too much to ask?"
Her voice broke as tears spilled down her cheeks, her composure crumbling. Eren tried to pull his hands away, but she held on tightly, refusing to let him retreat.
"I already lost my parents, Aunt Carla, and our home in Shiganshina. Do you know how much it hurt me to hear that you died?" she continued, her voice raw with pain. "I nearly gave up! If you hadn't shown up to kill that Titan, I wouldn't be here now."
She cupped his cheek, her touch gentle but insistent as she forced him to meet her gaze. Her voice softened, though it still carried the weight of her emotions.
"What matters now is that you're alive, in one piece. We might not be in the same squads, but we're in the same regiment. I won't be too far."
"Mikasa…" Eren whispered, his own tears finally spilling over.
"So please," she pleaded, her eyes closing as she leaned her forehead against his, "let me stay with you. I want to carry your burden with you."
Slowly, Eren let go of her hands and wrapped her in a warm embrace. He tucked his head into the crook of her shoulder, his tears dampening her scarf. Mikasa sobbed openly now, no longer holding back the flood of emotions she had kept bottled up for so long. Eren held her tighter, as if trying to anchor her to the present, to remind her that they were both still here, still alive.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice muffled against her shoulder. "I want to stay with you too. I missed you so much."
They stayed like that for what felt like an eternity, clinging to each other as the weight of their shared grief and relief poured out in tears. The empty room echoed with their quiet sobs, a cathartic release from the stress and trauma of the past few days. When their tears finally subsided, Eren loosened his grip, pulling back just enough to look into Mikasa's eyes. She melted under his gaze, the depth of his emotions reflected in the emerald green of his irises.
Mikasa felt Eren's hand brush against her scarred cheek, his thumb gently caressing the mark. He hesitated for a moment, his breath hitching, before leaning in and capturing her lips in a soft, tentative kiss. Her eyes flew open in surprise, but she didn't pull away. When he broke the kiss, his face was flushed with panic.
"Was that too much?" he asked nervously.
Mikasa, still stunned, managed to find her voice. "No, not at all. Do it again?"
Her face burned with a deep blush, mirrored by the redness spreading across Eren's cheeks.
"Alright," he whispered, leaning in once more.
This time, Mikasa reciprocated fully, her arms wrapping around his neck to pull him closer. The kiss was tender and warm, a stark contrast to the chaos and violence that had defined their lives. It wasn't the fireworks or sparks that people often described—it was something quieter, something deeper. It felt like coming home, like finding a moment of peace amidst the storm.
When they finally pulled apart, both breathless and flushed, Eren smiled at her, his expression brighter than she had seen in weeks. "I love you, Mikasa."
"I—" she stammered, her heart pounding in her chest. "I love you too, Eren."
She hugged him again, burying her face in his shoulder as she basked in the warmth of the moment. For the first time in what felt like forever, she felt completely, perfectly, and incandescently happy.
Two sharp knocks on the door shattered the moment, making them jump apart. They turned to see Levi standing in the doorway, his expression as bored and unimpressed as ever.
"Oi, brats," he said flatly. "It's curfew. Ackerman, return to the barracks. Eren, get your ass to the basement."
Leave it to Levi to ruin the moment, Mikasa thought, though she couldn't bring herself to feel too annoyed. Eren saluted nervously, his face still red.
"Will do, sir!" he said, turning to Mikasa one last time. "See you tomorrow."
"Good night, Eren," she replied softly, her heart still racing.
Mikasa lingered for a moment, watching him leave before she started walking back to the barracks. As she walked, a small smile tugged at her lips. Maybe, just maybe, she didn't need to add this interruption to the long list of grudges she held against Levi. For now, she was content to hold onto the memory of Eren's smile, the warmth of his embrace, and the promise of tomorrow.