Chapter Text
📖 Prologue – A Note Before We Begin
Hey there.
First off, thank you for clicking on this fic. I’ve been thinking about this story for a long time—how Attack on Titan could have gone differently if just one moment had played out another way.
This is a fix-it story. It begins at the end of Season 2, when Mikasa tells Eren her feelings in a subtle way. Except this time… he hears her. Maybe not fully. Maybe not perfectly. But something shifts, and that one shift slowly begins to change everything.
This fic is for anyone who:
Wanted Eren to grow instead of self-destruct
Believes Mikasa deserved to be truly seen
Felt like there was still a future worth fighting for
---
🗓️ Updates:
I’ll be updating this fic three days a week (unless life throws a Titan at me).
If there’s ever a day I can’t post, I’ll leave a quick note in the End Notes of the last chapter so you’re never left hanging.
This is going to be a long journey—possibly a million words. Slow-burn, canon-inspired, emotionally messy, and filled with all the what-ifs I couldn't stop thinking about.
If you're here for that... welcome. You're exactly where you're meant to be.
Let’s rewrite this story together.
Chapter 2: The Nightmare
Notes:
Too small of a chapter I know. But this is just the begining. From next chapter both the quality and quantity will increase . Next few chapters will be fluff and a bit mixed of angst. So, Be prepared for that. I have never write something fictional in my life before. so, this is quiet challanging for me.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
"Ever since I was a kid, I have hated you, Mikasa."
That voice echoed in Eren’s ears as he twisted restlessly in his sleep.
"No, no! I’ve never hated you, Mikasa—not even for a single second in my entire life. Please! Don’t believe me. Don’t leave me. Mikasaaaaa!"
"Eren? Eren? Wake up!"
Eren jolted awake, shouting her name. His body was drenched in sweat, as if he’d just drowned in a river. He was shivering, hands trembling like there was an earthquake inside him.
"Hey, Eren—what happened? Did you have a bad dream?" Armin asked, concern clearly written on his face.
"Yeah… I did," Eren replied, still trying to steady his breathing.
"What was it about?" Armin asked gently.
"I don’t know, Armin… it was about Mikasa," Eren said, meeting his best friend's eyes.
"In my dream… I heard myself telling Mikasa that I hate her."
"Do you?" Armin asked, a curious look on his face.
"No! Of course not, Armin—what are you saying?" Eren answered instantly, almost panicked.
"Then there’s nothing to worry about, Eren. It was just a nightmare. Maybe you dreamt that because Mikasa’s injured."
Eren looked puzzled for a moment, but the panic in him had begun to settle.
"Yeah… I guess you’re right. Maybe it was just concern," he murmured.
"Forget it, buddy. Mikasa will be alright," Armin reassured him with a soft smile. Then he added, "Oh right! I almost forgot why I came to your room this early. Captain Levi wants us all in Commander Erwin’s chamber."
"So early in the morning?" Eren asked, confused.
"Yeah. I’m not sure why, but the Captain said we need to report there within the hour. You better get ready and bring your ass over there fast," Armin said with a small laugh.
"Yeah, I will," Eren replied, finally cracking a smile.
"Alright, see you in the chamber. I need to inform Jean, Connie, and the others too," Armin said before hurrying off.
Once Armin left, Eren stood in silence. He was no longer panicking—but still, there was something weighing on him. His worry hadn’t gone. He wanted to see Mikasa. He needed to. He wanted to check if she was okay.
"Maybe I can check on her after the meeting," Eren murmured to himself, trying to calm the ache inside him.
---
One hour later – in Commander Erwin’s Chamber
Eren, Armin, Jean, Connie, Sasha, and Historia gathered in Commander Erwin Smith’s office. Some—like Sasha, Armin, and Historia—chose to sit on the couch. Others, like Connie, Jean, and Eren, stood by the wall.
Jean and Connie looked irritated. Eren stood quietly, stiff as a statue. But his mind was elsewhere—still with Mikasa. He was wondering if she’d eaten, if her fever had eased, or if she was still in pain.
Ever since they arrived at headquarters, Mikasa had either been asleep from the medicine or screaming from the pain. He hadn’t had a proper moment to talk to her. He missed her. Missed her soft voice, her quiet smile, and the way she only pampered him.
His thoughts were suddenly cut off by a voice.
"Before we begin this important meeting," Commander Erwin said, "I’d like to ask about Mikasa Ackerman’s condition."
"She’s doing quite well, actually," Hange Zoe responded. "Her recovery’s faster than expected. Broken ribs usually take months to heal naturally, but Mikasa’s healing is ahead of schedule."
"So… she’s okay?" Erwin asked.
"Apparently, yes. But there’s one thing," Hange added, her tone a little more serious. "She still has a fever. It's not uncommon after a serious injury like hers, but the concern is… it hasn’t gone down. It’s been two days."
Erwin nodded slowly. "Is she well enough to travel in a wagon?"
Hange blinked. "Technically, yes. But… why would you want her to travel now?"
"Not just her," Erwin said, voice grim. "All of you may need to leave headquarters today. That’s the real reason for this meeting."
Everyone looked at him, confused and alert.
"There’s a section of the Military Police that has gone rogue. They’re abusing their power and trying to centralize control. Ever since Eren joined us, they’ve been uneasy. They fear that if the Survey Corps keeps Eren Yeager, we might someday stage a coup."
He paused. The room was silent.
"And now, with Reiner and Bertolt discovered among us, they finally have the excuse they needed. I believe a ban on the Survey Corps is coming—and sooner than we expected."
"But why now, Commander?" Connie asked.
"They’ve wanted to do this from the start, but lacked justification. With the revelation about Reiner and Bertolt, they’re using it as ammunition against us."
A heavy silence fell over the room. No one dared speak at first.
"So… what does that mean for us?" Jean finally broke the silence, his voice low and cautious.
"It means," Erwin replied, folding his hands behind his back, "we need to move before they do. If the Military Police manage to declare us as traitors, or force a shutdown of the Survey Corps, everything we’ve fought for will be erased. Including the truth we’ve uncovered."
Armin’s brows furrowed. "So… we're going into hiding?"
"Not exactly. We'll regroup at a remote location—a cabin far from the capital's surveillance. It’s where we’ll re-strategize, and where Mikasa can recover safely."
Eren felt something shift inside him. She’ll be with us... good. A faint sense of relief flickered in his chest, though it was quickly buried by the weight of everything else.
"How soon do we leave?" Sasha asked, straightening up from her seat, more serious than usual.
"Tonight," Erwin said firmly. "We’ll begin preparations immediately. Only trusted soldiers will be informed. The fewer people know, the better."
Connie scratched the back of his neck, visibly unsettled. "And what about Mikasa? She’s not exactly in traveling shape..."
"We’ll do it carefully," Hange said. "She’ll be placed in a covered wagon with cushioning. I’ll personally make sure she’s comfortable and stable. The fever's worrying, but if we stay here, it might get worse before it gets better—especially if things go south."
Eren clenched his jaw, silently vowing to check on her before they left. If anything went wrong, he needed to be by her side.
"There's more," Erwin said, voice dropping slightly. "Our movement tonight will not go unnoticed. If the Military Police are watching us—and I believe they are—we may encounter resistance."
"You mean a fight?" Jean asked.
"I mean a possibility," Erwin replied. "And I want all of you prepared for that possibility."
No one responded immediately, but the weight of the statement hung over them all. The threat was real. The danger was closer than it had ever been.
"You are dismissed for now. Gather your gear, prepare yourselves—and keep quiet. We move at sundown."
They all began to move toward the door slowly, absorbing the gravity of the situation. Armin gave Eren a look, as if silently asking You okay?
Eren nodded slightly, then turned in the opposite direction.
"I’m going to check on Mikasa," he said quietly.
No one stopped him.
---
Infirmary – Later that Afternoon
The room was dim, quiet except for the occasional creak of the old floorboards. Mikasa lay on the narrow bed, wrapped in a thin blanket. Her face was pale, cheeks flushed with fever. Her breathing was shallow but steady.
Eren stood in the doorway for a moment, unsure whether he should go in. She looked so peaceful, even like this. So still.
He stepped closer, quietly pulling the stool beside her bed.
"Mikasa…" he whispered, barely audible.
She didn’t respond.
Eren reached out, brushing a strand of hair from her forehead. Her skin was warm—too warm.
"I’m sorry," he said softly. "For the things I said... even if they were never true."
Her eyes didn’t open, but her lips parted slightly, as if she’d heard him in a dream.
He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, head hanging between his shoulders. The weight in his chest pressed harder.
"I don’t know why I said those things," he muttered. "But I’ll fix this. I swear I will."
A quiet knock came at the door. Eren turned.
It was Hange.
"We're almost ready to move," she said gently. "Come on, Eren. She'll be in good hands."
Eren looked back at Mikasa one more time. He stood slowly, gave her hand a soft squeeze, and followed Hange out into the dim hallway.
Notes:
The next chapter will be out as soon as I am done writing . I will try to write the next as long as I can.
Chapter 3: Realization
Notes:
Still too small of a chapter I know but I am trying to increase the quantity with quality . In the upcoming chapters the word count will increase for sure. I have the goal of writing 5- 10k words per chapter, not sure If I can do that or not but gonna try. I almost did it today, wrote 5k words. But very unfortunately the file got deleted so, had to re-write the whole chapter. Hope you guys like it. :)
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
The journey back to the cabin was uneventful, though they were well-prepared for any unwanted attack from the enemy—especially Eren. His eyes were sharp like an eagle’s, scanning every shadow, every tree, every rustle of wind. He wasn’t going to let anything—or anyone—harm Mikasa. Not physically, not mentally. Not while he was around.
Leading the squad at the front was humanity’s strongest soldier, Captain Levi, riding with unwavering focus. Just behind him were Hange Zoe and Moblit, riding side by side. And in the center, guarded from all directions, was the wagon carrying Mikasa.
She lay quietly inside, still pale and feverish. Sitting beside her was the boy she had always cared for, the boy she had vowed to protect even at the cost of her own life—the boy she always wanted to be beside. But this time, the roles were reversed. This time, Eren was protecting her. He had made a silent vow to himself: even if it meant sacrificing his own life, he would keep Mikasa safe. The same girl who once thanked him for wrapping a scarf around her neck now lay wrapped in silence, and Eren refused to let go.
Behind them rode Armin, Sasha, Connie, Jean, and Historia. None of them spoke much; the air was heavy with exhaustion and worry. The only sound was the clatter of hooves and the creaking of wagon wheels.
Throughout the entire journey, Eren never relaxed. He kept switching between watching the woods for danger and checking Mikasa’s forehead to see if her fever had gone down. But each time, his heart sank. No improvement.
It took them nearly two hours to reach the cabin nestled deep in the forest. By the time they arrived, everyone was drained, desperate to drop into their assigned beds. Once Hange finished assigning rooms, people began to quietly disperse.
Just then, Eren turned to her and asked, a little hesitant, “Hey, Hange… can I stay with M-Mikasa tonight?”
Hange blinked, slightly surprised. She had been quietly observing him throughout the entire trip—how he kept checking Mikasa’s temperature, adjusting her cushion, making sure the blanket didn’t slip. It warmed her heart more than she let on.
But then a little mischief sparked in her eyes.
“Sorry, Eren,” she said, putting on a serious face. “There’s actually a provision in the military guidebook—male comrades can’t share sleeping quarters with female ones.”
Eren’s face fell immediately. “Oh… I understand. Sorry for asking,” he said quietly and turned to leave, clearly disappointed.
Armin, who had read the military guidebook himself, squinted at Hange suspiciously. He knew full well no such rule existed.
Just as Eren was about to walk away, Hange called after him, “Wait! Sorry, Eren!” And then she burst into laughter.
Eren turned, confused.
“I’m messing with you,” Hange laughed, clutching her stomach. “There’s no rule like that! You should’ve seen your face—it was like I told you we ran out of food!”
Armin chuckled beside them. “I knew you were bluffing.”
Eren sighed in relief, letting a small smile tug at his lips. “You got me, Hange.”
“Well then, go on. But keep it quiet, okay? Let her rest. She needs it.”
Eren nodded. “Thanks.”
Later that night…
The room was quiet except for the soft crackling of the candle and Mikasa’s slow, fevered breathing. Eren hadn’t moved in over an hour. He sat with his arms folded on the edge of her bed, his forehead resting lightly on them, his gaze fixed on her peaceful face.
He wasn’t tired. He couldn’t be.
His mind kept drifting—slipping into memories he’d long buried under the noise of battle and purpose.
He remembered the first winter after she came to live with them. Mikasa had barely spoken then. Always quiet. Always clinging to that red scarf. And he… he had tried so hard to make her smile.
He remembered dragging her through snow to show her how to build a snowman, trying to cheer her up. He remembered giving her his last steamed bun just because she stared at it too long. He remembered getting into fights with neighborhood boys who said she didn’t belong.
Back then, he protected her.
But things changed.
After his mother died… vengeance hollowed him out. He didn’t have room for kindness anymore. Mikasa stayed beside him through it all—quietly, faithfully—but he barely looked at her. Barely saw her. Like she had become just another part of his mission, not the person who had once been his whole reason to smile.
He clenched his jaw.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered into the dark. “I should’ve been there for you like you were for me. And I don’t just mean now—when you’re hurt. I mean all those years you stood by me while I ignored you.”
He looked at her again, gently brushing a damp strand of hair from her forehead.
“You’ve always deserved better, Mikasa. And I’m going to be better. I swear it.”
She didn’t stir this time, but Eren didn’t expect her to. The promise wasn’t for her ears—it was for his own soul.
After a while, he adjusted her blanket again and shifted a little closer. Quietly, he took her hand in his, letting their fingers rest together lightly. Her skin was warm—feverish—but still, that small contact grounded him.
Suddenly, a knock came at the door.
“Eren?” Armin’s voice called softly. “Can I come in?”
Eren blinked and gently placed Mikasa’s hand back under the blanket before standing and opening the door.
Armin stood there with a soft smile and a plate in his hand. “You’ve been here for hours. Figured you’d skip dinner unless someone shoved it into your face.”
Eren sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah… I wasn’t hungry.”
Armin held out the plate anyway. “Too bad. Eat.”
Eren took it with a tired chuckle and leaned against the doorway.
Armin peered past him, catching a glimpse of Mikasa resting in bed. “She looks a little better.”
“Still has a fever,” Eren said quietly. “But yeah, she’s not tossing and turning as much.”
There was a beat of silence, then Armin grinned—way too knowingly.
“…You know,” he began with a mischievous glint, “if I didn’t know any better, I’d say someone’s falling really hard.”
Eren narrowed his eyes. “Don’t start.”
“I mean, staying by her bedside like some knight in a romance tale? Checking her fever every ten minutes? You sure you don’t want me to bring flowers tomorrow?”
“Armin.”
“Maybe a love letter? Something like—‘To my dearest Mikasa, I vow upon my life to always adjust your cushion just right.’”
Eren groaned. “You’re unbelievable.”
Armin laughed, clapping him on the back. “Kidding. Mostly. But seriously… she’ll be okay. And I think she’d be happy if she knew you were here.”
Eren looked back at Mikasa, softer now. “I just want her to smile again.”
“She will,” Armin said. “You’re already giving her a reason to.”
After a moment, Armin started to walk away but paused at the hallway. “Also, Hange told me if you stay in there too long, she’ll start charging you rent.”
“Tell Hange I’ll pay in threats.”
Armin waved him off. “That’s the spirit.”
Eren returned to Mikasa’s side with a quiet smile tugging at the corner of his lips. He set the plate down but didn’t touch it yet. Instead, he picked up the scarf at the foot of her bed, running his fingers along the edges. It still held the same warmth, the same weight as it always did.
He gently laid it across her chest, right above her heart.
“Sleep well,” he whispered. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”
And for the first time in days, Eren allowed himself to lean back in the chair, close his eyes, and rest—still holding her hand.
Notes:
Next update is going to come 2-3 days later as I am thinking to write big chapters from now on. Hope you're okey with that.
Chapter 4: Butterflies
Notes:
Next few chapters are going to be all about eren and mikasa. If you're an eremika fan, like me then be prepared to read more beautiful moments between Eren and Mikasa . I hope you guys will enjoy reading this chapter. I personally did.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Mikasa stirred her eyes awake as the ray of sun pierced them. Her blurry vision started to become clear as she woke up. Suddenly, she heard a snoring sound coming from her room. With a mix of shock and excitement, she started to look around to find the source of the snoring sound, which brought her eyes to the person who was sleeping beside her bed, sitting on a chair. It was none other than Eren Yeager.
The snoring sound of Eren and the cute face he made while sleeping made Mikasa chuckle a bit. The last time she saw Eren sleeping so peacefully was when they were kids and his mother Carla was still alive. Mikasa was thinking how cute Eren looked when he wasn't angry or pissed off, which, by the way, he didn’t use to be until Shiganshina fell. While Mikasa was deep in these thoughts, Eren's snoring brought her back into the real world.
She looked at Eren again, this time a bit worried and concerned. "Why is he sleeping on a chair? Did he sleep like this all night? His back must be hurting. I must wake him up and make sure he sleeps on the bed. Eren? Eren? Wake up. Wake up, Eren." Mikasa called his name to wake him up, but she couldn’t move much due to her ribs still not being completely healed.
Being called by his name, Eren suddenly woke up from his sleep. "W-What happened, what happened?" he muttered before seeing Mikasa. To his surprise, she was awake and looking at him with a motionless face.
"M-Mikasa, when did you wake up?" Before Mikasa could answer, he reached for her. He placed his hand on her temple to check her fever, only to be satisfied this time.
"Your temperature feels normal now. I think the fever has gone down," Eren said.
"Yeah, I feel better now," Mikasa said almost like a whisper.
Eren was observing Mikasa—actually, "observing" would be the wrong word. He was literally staring at her to see if there was any discomfort or anything to worry about. But gladly, he found everything was good. His intense gaze didn’t go unnoticed by Mikasa either. It made her blush, almost red like a tomato.
After he was done observing Mikasa, Eren was about to say something when a sudden thought struck him. "You haven't eaten anything since yesterday. Wait right there, I'm coming back with your meal," Eren said, almost jumping off his chair.
"Hey Eren, you don't need to. I'm not hungry yet," Mikasa lied because she didn’t want to trouble Eren. But in reality, after waking up from sleep, Mikasa could feel hunger like a Colossal Titan. But she was too shy to ask Eren for help.
"Ssssh, I'm not hearing anything from you, Mikasa. You sometimes act worse than a kid when it comes to taking care of your own health. Can't you hear the growling sound of your own belly? As I said earlier, you stay right where you are. I'm bringing your breakfast." Eren left the room without giving Mikasa any room to protest.
This small rebuke session didn’t upset Mikasa at all. Rather, she was blushing even harder than before as she thought about the care Eren had just shown. It wasn’t very familiar to her in recent years. All she could remember from the last few years was Eren getting angry or pissed at her for tiny reasons, mostly because of her caring nature. To be honest, she used to get hurt when Eren scolded her for just caring about him, but it didn’t break her heart or spoil her feelings towards him. She understood why he behaved like that.
She could relate to him. It's not easy to cope with the death of your parents, especially when it happens right in front of your eyes and you’re powerless to prevent it. It took Mikasa several months to come out of the trauma of her parents’ death. And the reason she was able to somehow recover was because of Eren and his family. They pulled her out of the darkness that was slowly consuming her.
So, when Eren lost his mom and dad, Mikasa vowed to pull him out of the darkness. But it was Eren who distanced himself from the world. He put a virtual wall between them—one she couldn’t climb no matter how much she tried.
While Mikasa was lost in these thoughts, a few minutes later Eren arrived. He opened the door by turning the knob and walked in holding a tray with a bowl full of soup. Eren placed the bowl on the bed and sat back down on the chair.
"What's this?" Mikasa asked.
"Well, Hange said it’s better for you to eat this. It has some herbal leaves that will help you recover faster," Eren replied.
"Okay. Has everyone woken up?" Mikasa asked.
"Yeah, mostly. Come on, have the soup, otherwise it will get cold. Finish it."
Mikasa was about to get up from the bed to eat, but Eren noticed the clear discomfort in her movements. It was obvious her rib wound was still fresh.
"Hey Mikasa, don't get up. Your wounds are still fresh. Any forceful action might worsen them. Let me help you." Without giving her any room to protest, Eren got up from the chair and sat beside Mikasa on the bed. He held the bowl of soup and stirred it with the spoon. Then, he brought the spoon close to Mikasa’s mouth to feed her.
This sudden gesture from Eren shocked Mikasa, yet gave her butterflies. She could feel the heat rise inside her.
"E-Eren, why are you troubling yourself? I can manage. You've already done so much for me," Mikasa protested shyly—or tried to.
"Hey, there's no trouble in it. Don’t you remember when we were kids, and one day you had a fever and stopped eating? I was the one who fed you then. So, why can't I now? Come on, be a sport. Open your mouth," Eren said, almost ordering her.
Being reminded of that cute little childhood moment, Mikasa couldn’t protest anymore. She stopped pretending and opened her mouth a little to take the bite from Eren. After having the first spoonful, her expression turned sour as if she'd eaten something bitter. She swallowed it somehow.
"Eren! It's too bitter. I can't finish it," Mikasa said, almost pleading.
"Mikasa, don’t act like a big baby. Hange said you must finish it. The herbs will help your ribs heal. Moreover, you’re the second strongest soldier of humanity. You kill titans like leaves falling from trees. And now you’re scared of some bitter soup?"
"Hey! I’m not scared," Mikasa protested immediately.
"Then finish it," Eren said.
Though Mikasa didn’t plan to finish it, she eventually did. Afterward, her expression was worth seeing. Eren laughed at her baby-like reaction. Mikasa noticed.
"Eren! Don’t laugh," she said, pretending to be irritated. But inside, she was happy to see him laugh so openly after such a long time.
"Haha, okay, okay. I won’t laugh. And I’m definitely not going to tell everyone—including Armin and Sasha—that you acted like such a big baby." Eren burst out laughing again.
Mikasa grabbed the cushion beside her and threw it at Eren. "You’re impossible!" she said.
Eren deflected the cushion at the last moment. "Okay, okay! I'm sorry now."
Suddenly, Eren and Mikasa were like their 9-year-old selves again—just happy. Despite Mikasa’s traumatic past, she found her happiness with Eren and his family. Until that day, when destiny took her second family too, except for Eren. To face the cruelty of the world and to save Eren, she had to leave that little 9-year-old girl behind. She had to become the stone-hearted, emotionless girl—or more accurately, humanity's second strongest soldier.
On the other hand, Eren saw his mom get eaten in front of him. He couldn't do anything about it, which eventually forced him onto a path of vengeance. As if in a single night, the cruel world had taken his innocence and childhood from him. When his wish to eradicate titans became his obsession, he never even realized.
Eren looked at Mikasa. Mikasa looked back. Their eyes locked with a gaze so deep, as if trying to convey a message they both knew yet couldn’t express aloud.
Suddenly, Eren started moving closer to her. Mikasa's breath caught in her throat, shocked by his sudden movement.
"Why is he moving? Is he going to kiss me? Did he understand my confession that day? Oh my God! Is he going to confess too?" These thoughts raced through Mikasa’s mind as Eren leaned in closer. She closed her eyes, waiting for what might come.
Her heart pounded. She blushed like a tomato. The butterflies in her stomach danced wildly. She could smell the scent of the boy she already considered her beloved—the boy she loved more than anyone or anything else, the boy she could die for, the boy who wrapped the scarf around her, who pulled her out of darkness, who gave her a home to return to, who reminded her that the world hadn’t ended.
The scent grew stronger as the distance closed. For Mikasa, time froze. Every second felt like an eternity. And finally, the moment came.
She felt pressure on her lips. She expected Eren's lips, but it felt different.
Mikasa opened her eyes to find Eren moving his thumb across her lips. Honestly, she was a bit disappointed, but this gesture wasn’t meaningless.
She was still blushing.
On the other hand, Eren was feeling the same. He, too, was blushing due to his own actions. He couldn’t believe what he was doing—moving his thumb against Mikasa’s lips. That was a big move. It was very hard for him to resist leaning in to kiss her. Her lips were so beautiful. But he couldn’t do it. Not yet. Not until he confessed his feelings to Mikasa.
"Well, you had some soup left on your lips," Eren said.
Mikasa had been in a trance until Eren’s voice pulled her out of it.
"Oh," Mikasa murmured, still blushing from Eren’s action.
Just then, the door creaked open.
In walked Sasha, wide-eyed and grinning like she had caught two foxes sneaking meat from the kitchen.
"Oooh~ what did I just walk into?" Sasha sang, holding a tray of freshly baked bread. "Did I interrupt something important, or should I come back later with the rolls?"
Mikasa’s eyes shot wide open, while Eren nearly dropped the soup bowl in his lap.
"Sasha! Knock next time, you idiot!" Eren barked, his cheeks burning crimson.
"Whoa! So touchy! That confirms it!" Sasha smirked, tiptoeing in exaggeratedly. "Armin! Connie! You’ve gotta see this!"
Mikasa reached for the blanket and covered half of her face, still red from embarrassment. Eren was already rubbing his temples in exasperation when Armin and Connie walked in.
"We were literally just talking, nothing happened," Eren grumbled, standing up like he had to explain to a court.
Armin gave him a look—half skeptical, half amused. "No one accused you of anything, Eren."
Connie tilted his head. "Then why does Mikasa look like a tomato, and you look like you sat on a hot stove?"
Sasha giggled, tossing a bread roll to Connie. "Because the soup isn’t the only thing heating up in here."
Mikasa sighed into her palms.
"You guys are insufferable," she muttered.
"And you love us," Connie winked.
Eren huffed, but even he couldn’t hide the small smile forming on his lips. For the first time in a long while, the room didn’t feel heavy. It didn’t feel like they were at war. It just felt like friends teasing each other. It felt... normal.
Mikasa looked at the others laughing, then at Eren, who met her eyes briefly and held the gaze for a moment too long. His eyes were soft. Grateful. And something more.
She smiled gently. For a second, everything felt like it used to—before the titans, before the loss, before the walls came crashing down in more ways than one. The teasing, the soft glances, the warmth… It was all so painfully familiar.
Sasha plopped herself at the foot of the bed, still holding the basket of bread like it was treasure from a raid. “Okay, but seriously, what’s going on with you two? You’ve been acting weird ever since that little incident outside.”
“What incident?” Armin asked, raising an eyebrow.
Sasha leaned in dramatically. “You know… when Eren went full knight-in-shining-ODM-gear mode and carried Mikasa like a damsel across the field.”
“Ohhh,” Connie added, connecting the dots. “The bridal carry. That was peak romance novel material.”
“Sasha, Connie, can you two stop running your mouths for one second?” Eren said, clearly flustered. He crossed his arms and glared toward the window like it had offended him. “You guys are making stuff up again.”
Mikasa didn’t say anything. She simply kept the blanket bunched around her as if it could hide the pink on her cheeks.
Armin chuckled. “Honestly, it’s good to see everyone like this. I missed it.”
The room fell quiet for a moment after that. Not awkward—just thoughtful. Even Sasha stopped grinning for a beat.
Then Armin asked the question hanging quietly in the air. “How long are you staying with her, Eren?”
Eren turned back toward Mikasa. “Until she’s better.”
“You don’t have to,” Mikasa said softly. “I mean… I’m not a kid. I can—”
“You’re not a kid,” Eren cut in, stepping toward the bed again. His tone was calm, but sure. “You’re hurt. And I want to stay.”
The finality of his words made everyone else exchange glances. It wasn’t just about watching over a friend. There was something deeper in that voice. Unspoken, but understood.
“I’ll keep the bread rolls coming then,” Sasha said, trying to break the tension. “You’ll need ‘em.”
“I’ll bring the tea,” Armin added.
“I’ll bring… jokes?” Connie offered, unsure.
“Absolutely not,” Sasha deadpanned. “No one wants that.”
Everyone laughed again—this time louder. Mikasa relaxed. She leaned her head back against the pillow, letting herself enjoy the warmth of their presence. These people—this moment—felt like the only safe thing left in the world.
Eventually, Armin herded the rest of the group out so Mikasa could rest.
“Let’s give her space. You know—before Eren throws another cushion at someone,” Armin said teasingly as he gently pushed Connie and Sasha toward the door.
“Yeah, yeah. Bye, Mikasa. Heal fast so we can play tag again,” Connie said, winking as he left.
“See ya later, lovebirds,” Sasha whispered before Armin dragged her out by the collar.
And just like that, the room was quiet again.
Eren sat back in the chair beside her bed, arms crossed as he stared at her with unreadable eyes. His gaze lingered—not intense like before, but contemplative. Mikasa wasn’t used to it. Not anymore. The Eren of recent years didn’t look at her like that.
“Something wrong?” she asked.
Eren shook his head. “No. Just… remembering things.”
“Like what?”
He hesitated, then leaned forward slightly, resting his forearms on his knees.
“I used to think about this a lot. Back when we were younger. How everything felt normal. How I used to take you for granted.”
His voice was quiet now, almost unsure.
“I remember the way you always followed me around, always worried if I got hurt, always trying to make sure I ate enough or didn’t charge into danger alone.”
Mikasa looked away. “You hated it.”
“No,” he said quickly. “I didn’t. I just didn’t understand it.”
That made her pause. Her heart skipped a beat.
“I thought needing help was weakness,” Eren continued. “And when you were always there for me… it made me feel like I couldn’t be strong on my own. But that wasn’t fair to you. You weren’t trying to weaken me. You were just… being there. Being you.”
Mikasa turned back to him, her expression soft.
“I’ve done a lot of thinking lately,” he said. “About what matters. And I keep coming back to you. You’ve always been there—even when I didn’t deserve it.”
Silence stretched between them. Not uncomfortable. Just... heavy with meaning.
Mikasa opened her mouth, then closed it again. There were so many things she wanted to say. But she didn’t want to break this moment. Not yet.
So she said the simplest, truest thing.
“Thank you, Eren.”
He looked up at her, eyes wide, surprised by the gratitude in her voice.
“For what?” he asked.
“For staying. For remembering. For letting yourself feel something again.”
He stared at her a moment longer, then nodded once. “I’m trying. I don’t know what comes next, Mikasa. But I’m trying to be better.”
Mikasa reached out—not far, just enough for her fingers to brush his knuckles.
“That’s all I ever wanted.”
The room was silent again, but it wasn’t empty.
And this time, when they looked at each other, they didn’t look away.
Later that evening, the cabin outside shimmered under the golden hue of the setting sun. Light leaked through the wooden blinds in faint stripes, casting warm lines across the floor and bed. The smell of broth still lingered faintly in the air.
Mikasa had dozed off again—partly from fatigue, partly from the warmth of the soup Eren had forced into her system. She was resting better now, her breathing steady and calm.
Eren hadn't moved much since. He just sat there. Watching. Thinking. Remembering.
He glanced down at his hand—her fingers had grazed his knuckles just an hour ago. It had been such a small thing. But to him, it felt like a spark from the past—something unbroken that still lived between them.
Outside, faint sounds echoed in the air—boots scuffling across wood, muffled conversations. The others were probably setting up dinner. Someone—probably Sasha—was definitely raiding the pantry again. Eren smirked a little.
A knock came at the door—two short raps, followed by one long.
That was Armin's knock.
Eren stood up and quietly opened the door.
Armin stood there with a soft smile and a tray in his hands. It had two plates—one stacked with bread and meat slices, the other with some mashed potatoes and gravy. “Figured you might not come out tonight. So I brought you dinner.”
Eren stepped aside to let him in. “Thanks.”
Armin walked in quietly, his eyes briefly resting on Mikasa’s sleeping form. “She looks peaceful.”
“She’s doing better,” Eren replied.
There was a pause before Armin set the tray down on a small table in the corner and turned to face Eren properly. “You look better too.”
Eren blinked. “Huh?”
“You’re… softer. Not in a bad way. Just… different.”
“I’m trying to be,” Eren admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “She deserves more than what I gave her the last few years.”
Armin folded his arms. “You didn’t push her away because you hated her, Eren. We all saw that. You were drowning in your own grief. In guilt.”
Eren sat down on the edge of the bed again. “It’s no excuse. She waited for me—even when I was pushing her away the hardest. And I kept shutting the door in her face. Again and again.”
Armin pulled up a chair and sat down beside him. “You’re opening it now. That’s what matters.”
There was a moment of silence again, broken only by Mikasa shifting slightly in her sleep.
“Do you still… want to tell her?” Armin asked gently.
Eren didn’t answer right away. He stared at Mikasa’s face—soft, unguarded, so different from the soldier she became on the battlefield.
“I do,” he finally whispered. “I just don’t want to screw it up.”
Armin smiled, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Then take your time. You’ll know when it’s right.”
Just then, a new voice came from behind them.
“Is this where the party’s at?”
Eren and Armin both turned around.
It was Jean, standing in the doorway with his arms crossed, a half-smirk on his face. Behind him, Hange peered over his shoulder with exaggerated curiosity.
“Thought I’d find you here, lover boy,” Jean added, walking in casually.
Eren rolled his eyes. “Can we not start this again?”
“Oh, come on,” Hange grinned. “Everyone’s been wondering when you two would stop glaring at each other and start actually talking like normal people. Looks like the prophecy’s coming true.”
Eren didn’t respond, but Armin chuckled. “Let’s not push our luck. They’re already making progress.”
Hange stepped over to Mikasa’s bedside and studied her for a moment. “Color’s coming back to her face. Good. I was starting to worry that soup wouldn't do the trick.”
“She hated it,” Eren muttered.
“She always hates the good stuff,” Hange replied, shaking their head. “That’s how you know it’s working.”
Jean leaned against the wall and watched Eren for a few moments. “You know, I used to think you were the dumbest person alive for not seeing what was in front of you.”
“Thanks, Jean.”
“But,” Jean continued, shrugging, “you’re not doing too badly right now.”
Eren blinked in surprise. “…Did you just compliment me?”
“Don’t get used to it.”
Eren looked back at Mikasa again, and this time, the corners of his mouth lifted into something genuinely soft. “I’m not.”
Another knock came at the door. This time, it was Sasha—again—with two mugs in hand and her usual grin. “I brought tea! And cookies! And more teasing if anyone needs it!”
Behind her, Connie peeked in with a mischievous look. “Is Eren crying yet?”
“No, but we’re getting close,” Jean quipped.
Eren sighed. “This is why I don’t leave the room.”
“Well, too bad, you’re one of us,” Sasha grinned, handing him one of the mugs. “That means you get annoying emotional support whether you want it or not.”
Armin raised his mug in a toast. “To emotional support.”
The others followed suit, mugs clinking softly together as the quiet laughter filled the room.
Even Mikasa stirred slightly, eyes fluttering open for a moment. She blinked sleepily at the sight of everyone, her mind fuzzy from sleep. “What’s… going on?”
“You missed the tea party,” Sasha whispered. “And Eren’s emotional breakthrough.”
Mikasa raised an eyebrow.
Eren leaned closer. “Go back to sleep. I’ll save you a cookie.”
“You better,” she murmured, eyes closing again.
Sasha gave a thumbs up and whispered dramatically, “She’s totally blushing in her sleep.”
“Shut up, Sasha.”
The teasing didn’t stop, but for the first time in forever, Eren didn’t mind it. If anything, he welcomed it.
Because maybe—just maybe—this was the start of something new.
Not just healing wounds.
Not just surviving.
But finally… living.
Notes:
Next chapter is going to take time to come.
Chapter 5: The Quiet Between Storms
Notes:
I hope you guys like this chapter . This was just a glimpse of what's coming next. But next 2 chapters are gonna be based on eren and mikasa romantic moment's. Maybe they can go on a date : )
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
It's been almost a week since Levi's squad came here to the cabin. Here, the whole squad is mostly free, apart from the cleaning job that Levi makes sure they do properly and a mandatory sparring session that they do as their training to stay war fit. Apart from these two activities, the scouts are mainly free the whole day, at least half of the day. They mostly chit-chat, remembering their old days. About their old friends in the cadets. Some of them are in the military police now, some are dead in their previous missions. Every time the squad remembers their fallen comrades, the entire environment gets heavy. Some of the squad members find time for themselves also. Like, Armin, who likes to spend his leisure time reading books. Also, Historia likes to grow food outside of the cabin. Not because they have scarcity of food or anything like that but it's the fact that she likes to take care of others.
On the other hand, Sasha, Jean, Connie—these three are either fighting over food or fighting over anything else. Jean, at least at some point, leaves the fight after getting irritated, but Sasha and Connie, these two are just fighting without having any sort of intention of leaving the fight. Not until Levi comes in and makes them clean the floor of the cabin. Hange was busy juggling between Trost and the cabin. She and Commander Erwin both were planning something which they decided not to reveal yet. And Captain Levi was in charge of the security and training of the cabin. Mikasa was still very weak but she recovered a bit. Like she could get up and sit on the bed on her own, or she could walk too, with the help of someone (mostly Eren). On the other hand, Eren was too indulged in taking care of Mikasa. Like he literally wouldn't leave Mikasa's room for a second apart from his cleaning duty and training session. Even the teases from Sasha and Connie couldn't take Eren out of her room. He used to eat, drink, sleep—everything in Mikasa's dorm. He used to sleep sitting on the chair which was beside Mikasa's bed, so that he could be available to Mikasa at any time she needed. He was behaving like a proper nurse. The role that once Mikasa took for him, now he had taken that. Mikasa could see sometimes that Eren is struggling while sleeping on the chair, and she used to tell him to go to his room and she could manage on her own.
The sun had dipped beneath the horizon hours ago, leaving behind the lingering warmth of daylight and a blanket of stars above the quiet cabin. The faint creaking of the old wooden boards, the occasional chirping of crickets, and the rhythmic breathing of those asleep filled the night air. All seemed still—almost peaceful. But inside, the hearts of many still beat heavy with memory, burden, and anticipation.
The fire in the main room crackled softly. Sasha and Connie lay sprawled on opposite ends of the cabin’s rug, snoring lightly after their usual banter ended in exhaustion. Jean was at the window, arms folded, staring out into the dark woods. Sometimes, he imagined what it’d be like to walk away from it all. But that thought always led back to the same place—his friends. His squad. His duty.
Outside on the porch, Historia was humming to herself, her fingers gently wiping dust off a tomato plant leaf. Her eyes wandered up to the stars, and she whispered something inaudible. Perhaps a prayer. Perhaps a name.
Armin was half-asleep, his book still open on his chest. The last sentence he read danced through his head: “Even in times of peace, the heart prepares for war.” It was true, he thought. Too true.
In the dim room tucked at the end of the hallway, Mikasa lay in bed, her eyes half-lidded with weariness. Eren sat in the chair beside her, arms crossed but completely awake. The glow of the lantern barely reached his face, casting him in quiet shadows.
“Eren,” Mikasa whispered, her voice barely audible.
He looked at her immediately. “Yeah?”
“You should sleep in your room. The chair must be hurting your back.”
“I’m fine,” he said with a small smile. “Just try to rest.”
“You’re being stubborn.”
“I learned from the best,” he teased softly.
Mikasa closed her eyes but didn’t smile. Instead, she exhaled deeply, fingers curling into the blanket. Eren watched her silently, resisting the urge to touch her forehead to check for fever—something he did more times than he could count over the last few days.
The night deepened, and slowly, Mikasa drifted into sleep.
---
It began softly, like the flutter of silk curtains in the breeze. She stood on a familiar path—cobblestones lit by golden light. The streets of Shiganshina, unbroken, peaceful. Her mother stood at the doorway, brushing her hair, alive.
“Come here, Mikasa,” her mother said, smiling gently. “You’ll catch a cold.”
Mikasa’s feet moved without her command. Her heart surged. Her mother. Alive. She wanted to run, to throw her arms around her. But every step she took, the road behind her crumbled. Dust. Ash.
Then came the crack in the sky. A roar. Not thunder—something worse.
Flames. Fire rising like a living serpent. And Eren.
He stood amidst the inferno, eyes wide, bleeding. Screaming her name.
“Mikasa! Run!”
Titans erupted from the buildings, massive and grinning. Their shadows stretched long over the city. Mikasa turned, tried to pull Eren away, but her limbs wouldn’t respond. Her body was frozen. All she could do was watch.
A Titan’s hand came crashing down.
“Eren!!”
The sound echoed.
Her scream tore through the illusion.
---
Mikasa woke with a gasp, her hand clutching her chest. Sweat drenched her forehead, her breath came in shallow sobs.
“Mikasa?”
Eren was up in an instant, kneeling by her bed. His hands gripped her shoulders firmly. “Hey. It’s okay. I’m here.”
Her eyes were wild, unfocused at first. Then they settled on him, her trembling easing slightly.
“You were—burning. I couldn’t save you.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” Eren whispered, brushing her damp hair off her face. “It was a dream.”
She looked away, ashamed. “I don’t want to sleep alone tonight.”
“You don’t have to.”
He stood, kicked off his boots, and carefully climbed onto the bed. Mikasa shifted to make room, and he lay beside her, wrapping his arm around her. It felt natural. Familiar.
“You remember when we were kids?” Eren murmured. “You’d sleep in my bed when the nightmares were too much.”
“And you’d hold me so they wouldn’t come back,” Mikasa whispered.
Eren tightened his hold. “I’ll do that again. Every night if I have to.”
She relaxed against him, her breath syncing with his.
This time, sleep came without dreams.
---
The morning was slow and golden. Mikasa woke to find Eren still beside her, one hand gently resting on hers. He stirred only when she began to sit up.
“You okay?” he asked, blinking.
“Yes. Better.”
In the main room, Connie was balancing an apple on his nose while Sasha tried to knock it off with a spoon. Armin sat nearby, amused. Historia walked in holding a basket of fresh herbs, her face flushed with pride.
Jean rolled his eyes. “Can you all act normal for once?”
Sasha smirked. “What’s normal anyway?”
Levi emerged from his room, saw the chaos, and immediately barked, “All of you—outside. Five laps. Now.”
Groans erupted. Even Sasha dropped the spoon.
“I didn’t even do anything!” Connie whined.
“You were breathing too loud,” Levi said without emotion.
Laughter rippled through the room despite their protests.
Outside, Mikasa walked slowly on her own, her strength returning. Eren hovered nearby, ready to catch her if she stumbled.
“Don’t hover,” she said.
“I’m not hovering,” Eren replied. “I’m just being strategically close.”
She shook her head, a ghost of a smile playing at her lips.
Later, they sat together beneath a tree, watching the others train.
“Do you think this peace will last?” Mikasa asked.
Eren was quiet for a moment. “No. But I think we can fight for more of it.”
She nodded slowly. “Then we fight together.”
Their fingers brushed, and neither pulled away.
---
The peace shattered in the afternoon.
A loud explosion echoed through the valley. The ground quaked slightly. Birds fled from the trees.
“Everyone inside!” Levi barked.
A second boom followed. Smoke curled into the sky far to the east.
Jean ran out with his gear. “What the hell was that?”
“No clue,” Hange said as she arrived breathlessly on horseback. “But Erwin’s message said to prepare for contact.”
“Contact?” Armin echoed.
“With what?”
They all turned toward the ridge.
Another rumble. This one closer.
Eren’s hand gripped Mikasa’s.
Whatever peace they had...
...was over.
The explosion rocked the valley a second time, closer now. A plume of smoke twisted into the sky. The sound of birds scattering was replaced by an eerie silence.
Levi’s voice cut through the tension. “Everyone inside. Armin, maps. Now.”
Jean was already halfway to the door. “What the hell was that?”
Hange galloped in on horseback, breathless, eyes wild. “No clue yet. But Erwin just sent a signal from Trost—he said to prepare for an operation.”
“Operation?” Armin echoed.
Hange dismounted and handed over a sealed note, her expression grim. “There’s word from a scout contact in Mitras. Someone’s trying to eliminate key members of the Survey Corps. They’re calling it a ‘cleansing.’”
Connie blinked. “You mean like… assassinations?”
“Exactly,” Hange replied. “Scouts stationed far from the capital are being ‘mysteriously reassigned’ or vanishing. This place isn’t just a rest stop anymore. It’s a trap—someone knows you’re here.”
Sasha cursed under her breath. “Let me guess. The Military Police?”
Levi’s jaw tightened. “No. If this was the MPs, it’d be cleaner. Quieter. This feels…sloppy. Desperate.”
“They’re not sending professionals,” Armin said, scanning the map. “They’re sending whoever they can who’s loyal to the royal government.”
“Loyal to their lies,” Jean muttered. “They don’t want the truth getting out about the Titans or the walls.”
Eren’s hand tightened into a fist. “They’re trying to erase us.”
---
Scouting the Woods
Jean, Sasha, and Connie sped through the trees with ODM gear, trying to find the source of the explosions. The smoke led them east, toward the river bend. There, hidden behind fallen logs and brush, they spotted movement.
Figures—cloaked, lightly armed. Not in uniform.
“Don’t look like Military Police,” Sasha whispered. “Too untrained.”
“Mercenaries?” Jean muttered.
“No, worse,” Connie said. “Fanatics. Probably brainwashed by the central government. The kind that believes the Scouts are traitors.”
They were setting something up—crude barrels, fuses, and wires.
“Explosives,” Jean realized. “They were trying to collapse the cabin.”
“Should we engage?”
“We’re outnumbered,” Jean said. “Let’s return and report. We hit them with a coordinated defense, or not at all.”
---
Back at the Cabin
Levi paced in the main hall as Jean reported everything: the attackers’ makeshift bombs, their gear, the general direction they came from.
“They’re not soldiers,” Jean said. “They’re just loyalists. Desperate ones. They probably think we’re enemies of humanity.”
“They’re not entirely wrong,” Levi said coldly. “We are enemies of the system. Of the rot they protect.”
“Should we relocate?” Historia asked quietly.
“No,” Hange said, her voice unusually hard. “If we run, they’ll follow. They won’t stop until the Survey Corps is buried. We stand.”
Levi nodded. “We fortify. Traps. Defenses. If they want a war, they’ll get one.”
---
That Night
Rain began to fall.
Inside the barn, Mikasa sat up in bed, listening to the quiet sound of droplets tapping the roof. She wasn’t shivering—but not from cold. Her strength had returned just enough to walk without help, but Levi still forbade her from engaging in combat.
Eren stood at the door.
“You should be asleep,” Mikasa said.
“So should you.”
He stepped in and sat beside her on the hay pile, both of them watching the storm.
“You think they’ll really attack?” she asked.
He nodded. “Yeah. Maybe not tonight. But soon.”
Silence.
“I hate this,” Mikasa said suddenly. “That peace is just a pause. Like we never really get to breathe.”
“We’re soldiers. We breathe between battles. That’s all we get.”
“Is that all we deserve?”
Eren didn’t answer right away.
“No,” he said finally. “We deserve more. You do. And if they won’t give it to us… I’ll take it.”
---
The Following Day
Preparations began at dawn. Levi assigned patrol shifts. Hange set up makeshift traps in the woods with Jean and Armin. Sasha and Connie set up sentry posts in the trees with rifles. Historia helped reinforce the barn and cleaned weapons while Mikasa helped sharpen blades.
Eren was everywhere—silent, focused, dangerous.
“They're changing,” Armin said quietly to Hange. “All of them. The peace made them softer. But this… this threat? It’s hardening them again.”
Hange didn’t look up. “It always does.”
---
Dusk
Sasha’s voice rang through the treetops. “Incoming! South ridge!”
Everyone snapped into motion.
Figures in black surged through the trees, flanking the cabin. They carried swords, pistols, some old ODM gear. But they weren’t skilled.
Levi’s squad was ready.
Eren was the first to strike.
He leapt from the rooftop, blades flashing. Connie covered him with a rifle shot that sent one of the attackers tumbling into the mud. Sasha picked them off from the upper branches like birds on a wire.
Mikasa stood in the doorway, gripping a blade she wasn’t meant to use.
Then a second wave came.
These were better trained—clearly Military Police in disguise. The fight grew brutal. Hange was nearly overwhelmed before Jean tackled her attacker. Historia, of all people, knocked a soldier unconscious with the butt of her rifle.
Mikasa couldn’t just watch.
When Eren fell, blades locked with a masked soldier, she moved—fast, instinctive.
She threw her blade like a spear, catching the enemy in the side. Eren finished him, turning to look back.
Mikasa stood, breathing hard, bleeding from the palm.
“You said don’t fight,” she whispered as Levi appeared beside her.
Levi sighed. “I knew you would anyway.”
---
Aftermath
By the time the dust settled, five attackers were dead. Two escaped. One captured.
They found no formal insignia, no names, no orders. Just a single note burned at the edge of the firepit:
> “The Truth Must Die With You.”
Same Night – After the Battle
The cabin was quiet again. Too quiet.
The bodies had been removed. The blood washed off the wooden floor, though stains still clung to the grain in certain corners, like the memory of what had happened would never fully leave.
Everyone was exhausted.
Levi had finally gone to his room, after triple-checking the perimeter and making sure every squad member was accounted for. Jean and Connie were still cleaning their blades. Sasha was asleep in the corner with her rifle across her lap. Armin sat outside, staring up at the stars with a half-read book resting on his knee.
And Eren… stood in the doorway of Mikasa’s room.
The rain hadn’t stopped.
Mikasa sat on the edge of the bed, cleaning the blood off her blades. She moved slowly, her muscles still sore from the brief fight earlier. Eren stood in the doorway.
“You should be resting,” she said, not looking up.
“You should be listening to your own advice,” Eren replied softly.
She finally turned. His hair was damp and a strand stuck to his cheek. His shirt clung to him, and his eyes looked heavier than usual.
Mikasa stood and took the towel from the chair. Without a word, she walked over and gently pressed it to his hair, drying it.
Eren closed his eyes. He didn’t say anything. Let her.
“You didn’t have to fight,” he murmured.
“You didn’t have to stand in front of me.”
“That’s different.”
“It’s not,” Mikasa said, pulling the towel away.
Their eyes met — too close now. Too quiet.
“I wasn’t going to let them touch you,” Eren said, voice low. “Not after everything.”
“You’re not alone anymore,” she replied. “You don’t have to protect me like I’m still the girl from Shiganshina.”
“I know.”
Still, neither moved away.
A long silence stretched between them. Then Mikasa turned first, quietly placing the towel back on the chair.
“You should dry off. You’ll catch a cold,” she said.
He hesitated. “Can I stay?”
She looked back. Her expression didn’t change, but her shoulders dropped a little, like she’d been waiting for him to ask.
“You’re not sleeping on the chair again,” she said.
“I wasn’t planning to.”
He lay on the far side of the bed, back to the wall. Mikasa climbed in after a moment, lying stiffly beside him, facing the opposite direction.
A few minutes passed.
“Can you sleep?” he asked.
“No.”
“Me neither.”
They stayed like that for a while — backs almost touching. The distance between them wasn’t far, but the unspoken words stretched the space wider.
Then, very quietly, Mikasa said, “Eren?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m glad you're here.”
He turned his head slightly. “So am I.”
She didn’t say more.
Eventually, her breathing evened out.
Eren stayed awake a little longer, watching the ceiling, listening to the storm.
He didn’t know what tomorrow would bring.
But for now, with her beside him in the dark, he felt something rare.
Not peace.
Not safety.
But something like… stillness.
Notes:
The next chapter is gonna come next week.
Chapter Text
The week following the ambush was unlike anything the squad had experienced in a long time. Even with the bandit captured, the unease hadn't left.
The man hadn’t been part of any known faction—just a hired hand, probably discarded by now. No insignia, no name, no clues.
Levi and Hange, after interrogating him, decided to send him off to Erwin in Trost. Let the Commander peel back the layers.
In the meantime, for safety, the cabin was moved deeper into an isolated stretch of woodland, well away from any nearby settlements or patrol roads. It was harder to access, but also harder to be found. A good tradeoff.
The days became strangely quiet.
Too quiet.
Eren hated it.
He hadn’t been sleeping well — every sound at night put him on edge. Every shadow outside the cabin made him rise from bed, shirt clinging to his sweat-soaked back, fists clenched.
But none of that mattered.
Because Mikasa was here.
And she was safe.
She was healing fast, thanks to Hange's quick treatment and… well, maybe because of him. He never left her side those first few days. He brought her food, made sure she drank enough water, fluffed her pillows (badly), even sat beside her when she slept just to make sure she didn’t wake up in pain.
He’d never done any of those things before.
There was something terrifyingly fragile about seeing her wounded like that.
Her bandaged side, her winces when she moved too fast — all of it stuck in his head like a splinter.
He remembered the blood on her shirt when they found her.
And for a moment back then, he’d thought—
No.
He didn’t even let himself finish that thought.
Meanwhile...
Mikasa sat quietly on the edge of the bed, flexing her legs as she rotated her ankle. She was wearing the usual Scout pants and a simple shirt, her red scarf draped around her neck despite the warmth.
She caught Eren glancing at her from the doorway. He quickly looked away, pretending to fix the curtain.
She smiled softly.
This version of Eren was new.
Gentle. Careful.
Every time their eyes met, it was as if he was trying to make sure she was still breathing.
She liked it.
Maybe a little too much.
But that also scared her.
Because she knew him.
She knew how quickly he could shut down, how anger and guilt ate away at him like rust on iron.
She was healing. Soon, she’d be able to train again, fight again. And then... would this soft version of Eren fade away too?
Would she have to chase him all over again?
Would she lose him to his thoughts?
No. She didn’t want that.
But for now, she’d keep the scarf close.
For now, she’d enjoy the warmth in his voice.
The sun filtered softly through the windows of the cabin, dust particles dancing lazily in the air. The squad had just finished their cleaning duty — again. The hallroom now sparkled with unnecessary perfection.
“Three times this week,” Sasha groaned, slumping onto the couch and dramatically throwing her arm over her forehead. “I swear, if I have to wipe this floor one more time, I’ll actually cry.”
Connie flopped down beside her. “I’m starting to think Levi’s just messing with us for fun.”
“I mean, I get discipline, but this is insanity,” Sasha said. “Does he expect us to clean until the floor reflects our guilt?”
“Oh shut up,” Jean muttered, leaning against the wall. “At least you're not on bathroom duty. The toilet actually looked back at me.”
Connie snorted. “What did it say? ‘Clean me, horseface’?”
Jean rolled his eyes. “That’s not even clever, dumbass.”
The two were about to devolve into yet another insult match when Historia, who had been watching something out the window, suddenly stood up.
“Guys,” she said, eyes lighting up. “Look over there.”
Everyone turned their heads.
Through the open window, they saw Eren walking beside Mikasa just outside the cabin. She still had some bandaging under her shirt, but her posture was strong again. Eren stayed close, hand hovering near her back — not quite touching, but close enough to catch her if she stumbled.
Mikasa said something with a slight smile, and Eren tilted his head, listening intently. Then he gave a short, warm laugh.
A laugh. From Eren.
The group in the hallroom fell into stunned silence.
“They look… kinda cute,” Historia whispered.
“Cute?” Sasha blinked. “They look like they’re about to hold hands and skip into the woods.”
“Are they dating?” Sasha turned to Armin, who’d just walked in with a mug of tea. “Armin! Spill. Are Eren and Mikasa secretly a thing now?”
Armin blinked, caught mid-sip. “Wha—no. I mean... no, not officially.”
“Not officially,” Jean muttered. “But come on. Look at them.”
Eren had now reached down to adjust Mikasa’s scarf, gently pulling it higher around her neck as she tried not to look too flustered.
“She’s blushing,” Connie whispered. “Guys, she’s actually blushing.”
“You ever seen Mikasa blush before?” Jean added. “Because I haven’t. That’s like... spotting a unicorn in the forest.”
“I knew something was up,” Sasha said. “He’s been hovering over her like a protective spirit.”
Armin gave a small smile. “He’s just... being there for her. This week was rough.”
“Sure,” Jean said. “But he’s softer now. Like, weirdly gentle. It’s almost romantic.”
“Almost?” Connie raised an eyebrow. “That boy’s one scarf-wrap away from writing her a love poem.”
Sasha grinned. “We should totally mess with him.”
“Better idea,” Historia said, crossing her arms with a sly smile. “We should help him.”
Connie blinked. “Wait, what?”
“Help him. You know... make a move. Court her properly.”
Jean looked horrified. “You want us—this group of emotionally stunted, battle-hardened idiots—to help Eren romance Mikasa?”
Sasha nodded enthusiastically. “Yes.”
Armin chuckled into his tea. “Actually… it might work.”
Unaware of the audience inside, Eren gently adjusted the scarf around Mikasa’s neck.
“There. You okay?” he asked, brushing some strands of hair from her face.
“I told you, I can walk just fine,” Mikasa replied, her tone soft but clearly holding back a smile. “You don’t have to babysit me.”
“I’m not,” Eren said quickly, then paused. “I mean—I just don’t want you to strain anything. That’s all.”
Mikasa looked at him for a moment, and for once, she didn’t hide the warmth in her eyes.
“You’re being sweet,” she said.
That alone made Eren visibly short-circuit. “I—I’m not—shut up.”
She smiled again.
But then, something shifted. Mikasa’s eyes moved past Eren’s shoulder, and her expression instantly changed. Eren noticed too — her face going from soft to mildly horrified in half a second.
He turned around.
Inside the cabin, pressed up against the window like children at a candy store, were Sasha, Connie, Jean, Historia, and Armin. Watching.
Waving.
Grinning.
Sasha gave them two enthusiastic thumbs up.
Jean winked.
Connie held up his hands in a heart shape.
Eren froze.
Mikasa’s face flushed pink. She immediately turned slightly, her hand instinctively gripping the end of her scarf like a shield.
Eren’s jaw tightened. “I swear to—”
Before he could finish, the window slid open, and Sasha leaned halfway out.
“Well well well,” she sing-songed. “What do we have here?”
Jean’s voice followed. “Didn’t know today was Date Day.”
“We weren’t—” Eren began, but Historia cut in smoothly.
“You know, Eren,” she said with mock seriousness, “we were just talking about how very good you two look together. So cute. So... emotionally available.”
“Emotionally what?” Eren muttered under his breath.
“Nothing to be ashamed of, buddy!” Connie added. “You're just finally acting like a normal human. It’s touching, really.”
“Keep talking,” Eren said dryly, “and I’ll touch your face. With my fist.”
“Romantic and violent,” Jean said. “Mikasa must be swooning.”
Eren turned red. Mikasa was half-hiding behind him now, scarf up to her nose.
Sasha leaned further out. “You’re both blushing, by the way. It’s adorable. Can we get a picture?”
“Close the damn window!” Eren snapped, turning sharply.
Armin finally stepped in, laughing. “Alright, alright, give them a break, guys.”
The window finally slid shut, but the giggling from inside was impossible to ignore.
Mikasa let out a slow breath. “I think they’re going to keep teasing us for a while.”
Eren groaned. “I’m gonna bury myself in the forest.”
“I’ll bring the shovel,” she teased softly, hiding her smile.
Eren and Mikasa had long since retreated indoors — the former muttering curses about nosy teammates, the latter pretending not to smile behind her scarf.
But the squad?
Oh, they were just getting started.
Sasha slammed a piece of paper onto the table. “We need a plan.”
“A plan for what?” Jean asked, lounging on a chair.
“To get Eren to ask Mikasa out, duh!”
Historia nodded. “He’s hopeless on his own. If we leave it to him, they’ll be eighty, and he’ll still be saying ‘tch’ every time she blinks at him.”
“Agreed,” Connie said. “I vote we call it... Operation: Get Mikasa Her Man.”
“No. Too dramatic,” Jean said.
“Too dramatic?” Sasha raised an eyebrow. “You wanted to call the last mission ‘Horseface Rides Again.’”
“I stand by that.”
Armin cleared his throat. “Can we focus?”
Sasha leaned in. “Okay. What does a girl like Mikasa want in a date?”
“Knives,” Jean said immediately.
Everyone turned to look at him.
“She’s not a serial killer, Jean,” Historia said flatly.
“Fine. What about sparring? She loves sparring.”
“So you’re suggesting Eren punch her in the face as a way to show affection?” Connie asked.
“No! I’m saying they can train, get sweaty, then accidentally fall into each other’s arms—romance!”
“Okay, okay,” Armin interrupted. “Let’s take this seriously. Eren obviously likes her. We’ve all seen it. He just doesn’t know how to show it properly.”
“Because he’s emotionally dumb,” Sasha said.
“Because he’s emotionally constipated,” Jean corrected.
“So,” Historia said, fingers steepled like she was leading a war meeting. “We need a simple plan. Nothing dramatic. Something to get him alone with her, something meaningful, but not suspicious. We have to make it seem like his idea.”
“That’s the tricky part,” Connie muttered. “Eren doesn’t get ideas unless they involve punching things.”
They all went quiet for a moment.
Then Sasha’s eyes lit up. “What if we create the illusion of danger?”
“No,” said Armin, Jean, and Historia at once.
She pouted. “Fine.”
Jean shrugged. “Can’t we just tell him she likes him?”
Armin shook his head. “No. He’ll panic. He’ll overthink. He’ll assume it’s a trap or some Titan-related metaphor.”
“What if we make Mikasa ask him out?” Connie suggested.
Everyone went dead silent.
Then Sasha laughed. “You really don’t know her at all, do you?”
“She’d rather get stabbed than say ‘I like you’ out loud,” Historia said.
“So it has to be Eren,” Armin concluded. “We just need to… push him.”
“Shove him off a cliff,” Connie muttered.
Jean leaned forward. “Okay. What if we set up a fake task? Like—‘Eren, you need to go pick supplies from the nearby village,’ and then oops, Mikasa ends up going with him.”
“And the village has… a cozy little teashop?” Historia added, grinning.
“Or a bookstore with only one chair,” Sasha said dramatically. “So they have to sit close.”
“Or a festival!” Connie shouted.
Everyone paused.
“That’s… not terrible,” Armin admitted.
Sasha nodded. “A small one. Locals throw those weird forest festivals all the time. We just say, ‘Hey Eren, you should go check if it’s safe,’ and then we conveniently pair him with Mikasa.”
Jean raised an eyebrow. “So our plan is to trick them into going to a romantic festival under the guise of patrol duty?”
“Yes,” Historia said.
“Exactly,” Armin added.
“Brilliant,” Sasha beamed.
“We’re geniuses,” Connie grinned.
Outside, Eren sneezed.
Eren sat on the cabin steps, staring at the tree line with his arms resting on his knees. Mikasa was inside with Hange getting her bandages checked again, and for the first time in a week, Eren had a few minutes to breathe.
It didn’t last.
“Hey,” Sasha said, appearing suddenly with an awkward smile. “You doing anything today?”
Eren narrowed his eyes. “...Cleaning duty.”
“Right! But, uh…” she scratched her head, clearly forcing a casual tone. “Heard there’s a festival happening in a nearby village.”
“So?”
“So… nothing!” she said quickly, a little too quickly. “Just thought you might, you know… like festivals. Or whatever.”
“I don’t.”
“Cool! No problem!” Sasha said, sweating. “I mean, they probably don’t even have meat. What kind of festival doesn’t have meat, right? Heh…”
She backed away slowly like she was defusing a bomb.
A few seconds later, Jean appeared. “Yo.”
Eren raised an eyebrow. “What now?”
“Just heard you and Mikasa are assigned to go check out that village festival.”
“We are?”
“Yup. Levi’s orders.”
“Since when does Levi send people to parties for recon?”
Jean shrugged. “He didn’t call it a party. He said something like ‘security sweep,’ and I said, ‘Eren’s your guy.’ He agreed.”
Eren narrowed his eyes further. “Did he really agree or did you just tell me he did?”
Jean coughed. “Details.”
Just then, Connie and Historia approached, way too cheerful for 9 a.m.
“Hey Eren,” Connie said. “Big mission today, huh?”
“What mission.”
“The festival mission,” Historia said with a bright smile.
“I just found out about that like five seconds ago,” Eren said flatly.
“Ohhh,” Historia said, blinking innocently. “Then it’s good you know now.”
“Levi really wants you to take Mikasa,” Connie added.
“Why?”
“Because… teamwork,” Connie said, clearly making it up on the spot. “She’s good at… uh… observing things. And protecting.”
“She’s literally still injured,” Eren pointed out.
“She’s recovering beautifully,” Historia said quickly. “Like, stunning recovery. Honestly, it’s poetic.”
Eren stared at them.
They stared back. Too hard. Too smiley.
He stood slowly, rubbing his temple. “Okay. What the hell is going on?”
“Nothing!” they all said in unison.
Jean grabbed him by the shoulders. “Listen, man. You’ve been on edge all week. You need a break. Mikasa needs a break. And this—this is a totally legit, not-at-all-staged chance to unwind.”
“You’re sending me to a festival.”
“Yes.”
“With Mikasa.”
“Yes.”
“Because Levi said so.”
“Absolutely.”
Eren looked around. Armin was standing nearby, not even pretending not to eavesdrop. When their eyes met, Armin gave him a thumbs up.
Eren squinted. “Are you all drunk?”
“No,” Sasha said. “But we can be, if the mission goes well.”
Before Eren could say anything else, the door opened behind him and Mikasa stepped out. Her scarf was already around her neck.
“You ready?” she asked softly.
“For…?”
“Levi said you and I are assigned to check the festival route,” she said, totally unaware of the scheming. “We leave in ten.”
Eren turned slowly back to the others, who were all very invested in pretending they weren’t listening.
Jean gave a little salute.
Sasha winked.
Connie mouthed, “Don’t screw this up.”
Eren sighed deeply.
“Fine,” he muttered. “But if this turns out to be some stupid setup—”
“Who, us?” Connie said, grinning.
“Totally legitimate mission,” Historia added, halo practically glowing.
Eren shook his head, brushing past them to grab his gear.
Behind him, Jean whispered, “Phase One: complete.”
The trail to the village wasn’t long, but it was quiet.
Too quiet.
Eren walked beside Mikasa, both of them lightly geared up, though their pace was slow enough that it didn’t feel like a mission. Sunlight filtered through the trees in golden patches, and the breeze was gentle, warm. Birds chirped. A butterfly actually flew past them.
Eren frowned. “This is weird.”
Mikasa glanced over. “What is?”
“The vibe.”
She raised an eyebrow. “The vibe?”
“Yeah. This doesn’t feel like a recon mission. It feels like... I don’t know. A... picnic or something.”
Mikasa looked ahead. “Would that be bad?”
“I—no. I mean, yeah. I mean... no?” he mumbled, clearly confused.
She bit her lip to stop a smile. “So which is it?”
“I just don’t get why Levi would send us here for something that feels so... not life-threatening.”
“Maybe he thought we needed a break.”
Eren snorted. “Levi doesn’t believe in breaks.”
Mikasa shrugged. “Armin did mention there was a festival happening in this village today.”
“Oh really?” he said, sarcasm thick in his voice. “What a coincidence.”
Mikasa looked at him. “Are you okay?”
Eren sighed. “Everyone’s acting weird. Sasha, Jean, Connie—especially Connie. They’re up to something.”
Mikasa didn’t respond right away.
Eren side-eyed her. “You’re not in on it too, are you?”
“No,” she said, quickly. Too quickly.
He narrowed his eyes. “Wait—are you?”
She looked away. “We’re almost there.”
Eren stared at her as they walked. “Unbelievable.”
A Few Minutes Later — Festival Grounds
The village was modest, tucked between forest and hill, but the colors hit them immediately: strings of handmade lanterns in reds and golds, small stalls selling sweets and trinkets, paper streamers fluttering in the breeze.
Children ran past them laughing, carrying bright kites. Music played softly from somewhere ahead — a simple wooden flute accompanied by gentle drumming.
Eren stopped walking.
Mikasa stopped too. “What is it?”
He blinked slowly. “This is... definitely not recon.”
She tilted her head, looking far too calm. “It’s cultural awareness. We’re... observing civilians. In their natural setting.”
Eren turned to her, deadpan. “Did you practice that line?”
“No.”
“Mikasa.”
“Maybe a little.”
Eren let out a long sigh.
Then something caught his nose. Sweet. Fried. Almost familiar.
His stomach growled.
Mikasa smirked. “That stall is selling honey-glazed sweetbread.”
“You are in on this.”
She said nothing, but gently nudged him forward. “Come on. If we’re stuck here, might as well eat something.”
They walked into the festival, passing curious villagers who nodded politely at the Scout emblems on their jackets. The warm air carried scents of grilled meats, baked fruits, and wildflowers. It was, against all odds, peaceful.
Eren hated how much he didn’t hate it.
They stopped near a small fountain. Mikasa handed him a piece of sweetbread, warm and sticky.
He took it cautiously. “Thanks.”
They sat on a bench nearby. For a moment, neither spoke.
Then Mikasa said, quietly, “It’s kind of nice here.”
Eren nodded. “Yeah. It is.”
He glanced at her. She was looking up at the paper lanterns swaying in the trees, a soft look on her face. The breeze pushed her scarf just enough to reveal the curve of a smile.
Something in his chest did a weird little flip.
Oh no.
She’s glowing. Why is she glowing.
Why is this festival lighting romantic.
Why do I suddenly want to...
He cleared his throat loudly and looked away.
Mikasa blinked at him. “You okay?”
“Fine,” he said. Too fast. “Just—bit of bread caught in my throat.”
She handed him her water flask without a word, but there was a tiny smirk hiding behind her expression.
They sat there a little longer, quietly chewing and pretending neither of them felt anything unusual about this very normal, not-at-all suspicious mission.
From behind a thick bush, the gang crouched in various awkward positions, all poorly camouflaged by branches and leaves.
Sasha was balancing on one knee, eyes glued to Eren and Mikasa.
“Okay,” she whispered, barely able to contain herself. “Operation ‘Make Eren Not Suck at Love’ is officially underway.”
Jean leaned back against a tree, arms crossed. “They look like a couple who just realized they’re stuck together at a family reunion.”
Connie, hiding behind a large leaf, nudged Armin. “Dude, is Eren supposed to look that awkward? Like a puppy on its first walk?”
Armin chuckled quietly. “That’s Eren for you.”
Historia, perched on a rock, took a slow sip from her water bottle. “Honestly, if they get through this without one of them running for the hills, it’ll be a miracle.”
Sasha pointed. “Look, he just gave her a piece of sweetbread!”
Jean smirked. “So smooth. I bet he’s about to propose right now.”
“No,” Connie said seriously, “but it’s the best he’s done since... well, ever.”
The group watched as Eren and Mikasa settled on a bench near a small fountain. Eren nervously scratched the back of his neck, while Mikasa casually looked around, calm as always.
“Look at her,” Historia said fondly. “She’s glowing. Literally glowing.”
Sasha leaned closer to the bush. “Wait—wait—did you see that? Eren just almost smiled.”
“Almost?” Jean said, raising an eyebrow. “Call it a smirk and let’s move on.”
Connie nudged Armin. “I swear, if they don’t hold hands by the end of this, I’m throwing a rock at them.”
Armin sighed. “Remember, subtlety is not their strong suit.”
Suddenly, a child ran past the bush, almost bumping into Connie, who yelped and tumbled backward into a pile of leaves.
“Smooth,” Jean said dryly.
Sasha giggled. “We’re in deep cover here, people.”
The squad continued watching, whispering commentary and occasionally nudging each other as Eren and Mikasa navigated the awkward, sweet moments of their very unofficial date.
From their hidden vantage point, the squad was buzzing with excitement.
Sasha held a red balloon tied to a long string. “Okay, team, Operation Balloon is a go.”
Jean smirked. “You’re seriously going to use a balloon?”
“Not just any balloon,” Sasha said, winking. “Watch and learn.”
With a subtle flick of her wrist, she sent the balloon drifting into the festival crowd — right toward Eren and Mikasa.
Eren’s eyes tracked the bright red dot bobbing through the air, curiosity flickering. Mikasa followed his gaze and reached out just as the balloon caught on a nearby tree branch.
“Oh!” Mikasa exclaimed, stepping forward. “Let me get that.”
Eren trailed after her, awkward and stiff, hands shoved deep into his pockets.
Historia whispered from the bushes, barely containing a grin. “Now, the chase.”
Mikasa jumped to snag the string, but it slipped through her fingers and floated higher.
“Damn it!” she muttered, stepping back.
Eren lunged forward, grabbing the string just before it floated away.
Their hands brushed.
Both froze.
Eren blinked, then cleared his throat. “Got it.”
Mikasa’s cheeks warmed. “Thanks.”
Jean whispered, “Smooth as ever.”
Connie nudged Sasha. “How much longer until they realize this is all your fault?”
Sasha grinned. “As long as it takes.”
Suddenly, a child dashed past, nearly colliding with Eren, who stumbled into Mikasa’s side.
“Careful!” Mikasa teased, steadying him.
Eren mumbled, “Sorry.”
The squad inside the bushes exploded in quiet laughter.
Armin grinned. “Operation Balloon: success.”
Sasha raised a finger. “Next move — get them to share food.”
Jean groaned. “We’re really doing this?”
“Absolutely,” Sasha said. “Watch and learn, idiots.”
The festival buzzed around them, but Eren and Mikasa found themselves momentarily trapped near a food stall boasting sweet roasted chestnuts.
Sasha, hidden behind a tree with the rest of the squad, whispered urgently, “Phase two: food sharing. This is where it gets real.”
Jean rolled his eyes. “This is so dumb, it might actually work.”
Connie grinned. “Love’s a battlefield—and a buffet.”
Meanwhile, Eren stood in front of the stall, scratching the back of his neck as Mikasa eyed the steaming chestnuts.
“Uh, want some?” Eren asked, voice cracking a little.
Mikasa raised an eyebrow but nodded.
Eren bought a small paper cone of chestnuts, handing it to Mikasa.
They stood side by side, awkwardly nibbling at the warm treats.
Eren’s fingers brushed against hers while passing the cone back and forth.
He cleared his throat. “They’re, uh… good.”
Mikasa smirked. “They’re just chestnuts.”
Eren smiled—a real one.
Behind the tree, the squad watched like spectators at a final match.
“Did you see that smile?” Historia whispered.
“More like a victory grin,” Armin said.
Jean leaned forward. “Bet they don’t even realize they’re blushing.”
Sasha bit her lip to stop from squealing.
Connie was practically bouncing.
Suddenly, a squirrel darted past, knocking over a basket of apples.
“Perfect distraction!” Sasha whispered. “Eren, follow the squirrel!”
Eren, caught off guard, instinctively chased the squirrel as it scampered toward Mikasa, bumping into her.
They collided lightly, and both staggered for a moment.
Mikasa’s face flushed deep red.
Eren rubbed the back of his neck. “Sorry.”
The squad burst out laughing quietly, nearly giving away their hiding spot.
The festival’s lanterns cast a soft amber glow, lighting the narrow paths lined with stalls selling sweetbread, trinkets, and glowing paper lanterns. The murmur of voices, laughter, and the distant tune of a wooden flute filled the warm evening air.
Eren and Mikasa strolled side by side, neither speaking for a moment, letting the quiet stretch comfortably between them.
Eren finally broke it, voice low but casual. “So… how did you end up agreeing to this? You know, coming along with the rest of the squad’s little ‘plan.’”
Mikasa glanced at him, a faint smile playing on her lips, but her eyes were unreadable. “I didn’t really have much choice.”
“Yeah?” He raised an eyebrow. “I figured you’d have thrown a knife or two their way before agreeing.”
She chuckled softly, looking ahead. “Sometimes it’s easier to just… go with it.”
Eren studied her for a beat, then gave a crooked grin. “You’re impossible.”
“Maybe.” Her voice was quiet, teasing.
They continued walking, shoulders brushing lightly, the hum of the festival wrapping around them like a gentle blanket.
Eren cleared his throat, suddenly awkward. “I’m not really good at this—at talking like this.”
Mikasa glanced at him, amused. “Talking or… whatever you think this is?”
“Yeah.” He scratched the back of his neck. “I’m not exactly smooth.”
“You’re honest.” She smiled, warmth shining in her eyes. “That counts for something.”
Eren’s cheeks flushed slightly. “I guess it does.”
They stopped near a stall where soft lantern light flickered against Mikasa’s face. Eren caught himself staring, then quickly looked away.
“So,” Eren said, trying to steer the conversation, “what do you think about… this? All of this, I mean.”
She tilted her head thoughtfully. “It’s… nice. A break from everything. Even if it’s not really a break.”
He laughed softly. “Yeah. Feels strange. But good.”
Mikasa’s gaze flicked back to him. “I’m glad you’re here.”
Eren’s heart thumped loud enough he was sure she could hear it.
He swallowed. “Me too.”
They stood in silence a moment, watching children chase each other with paper lanterns glowing like fireflies.
Then Eren’s curiosity got the better of him.
“Seriously though… how did you actually agree to this? Were you in on the plan with the others?”
Mikasa’s smile was slow, teasing. “Let’s just say I knew saying ‘no’ wouldn’t make things easier.”
Eren smirked. “Sounds about right.”
The warmth between them grew, the festival noises fading as the moment stretched out.
Suddenly, a rustle from nearby bushes shattered the quiet.
Both snapped their heads toward the sound, blades ready.
From behind the shrubbery, Sasha, Jean, Connie, Armin, and Historia stumbled out, caught completely off-guard.
“Uh… hey!” Sasha said, cheeks flushed. “We were just… uh… scouting the perimeter!”
Eren’s eyes narrowed, a slow grin spreading across his face.
Mikasa folded her arms, smirking. “Nice try.”
Jean shrugged, looking sheepish. “We got caught.”
Connie grinned. “Mission almost accomplished?”
Eren laughed quietly. “You’re all impossible.”
Mikasa’s eyes sparkled in the lantern light. “Looks like we’re not quite alone after all.”
The squad exchanged guilty but triumphant looks.
Eren glanced at Mikasa, raising an eyebrow. She shrugged with a playful smile. “We’ll see.”
Chapter Text
The second the squad emerged from the shadows, the teasing started without hesitation.
Sasha grinned widely, folding her arms like a proud commander. “So, spying on you two was definitely worth it. Didn’t expect the mighty Eren to turn into such a blushing mess.”
Eren’s cheeks flushed an even deeper red, and he shot a sharp glare at her. “I’m not blushing!”
Jean chuckled, shaking his head. “Oh, come on. You were frozen like a deer caught in headlights. It was kind of adorable.”
Connie smirked, nudging Eren playfully. “Not that Mikasa seemed to mind, right?”
Mikasa’s eyes flickered with amusement, the smallest smile tugging at her lips. She stayed silent, watching Eren squirm under their teasing gazes.
Armin, ever the diplomat, stepped forward with a calm but amused smile. “We thought you two could use a little… encouragement. You’ve both been so busy lately. It was a way to make sure you had some time together.”
Eren shook his head, his voice tinged with mock exasperation. “Encouragement? That sounded more like an ambush.”
Historia giggled softly, eyes sparkling. “It was all with the best intentions, really.”
Sasha poked Eren in the ribs, her grin infectious. “Now, you’ve got to prove to Mikasa you’re not just talk.”
Eren straightened, a sly grin creeping onto his face. “Is that a challenge?”
The group burst into laughter, the sound mingling with the festival’s gentle hum.
Armin glanced down at his watch and then back at the group, a small smile playing on his lips. “Alright, enough teasing for now. Why don’t we give you two some space? Go enjoy the festival, maybe find some trouble—or peace, whatever suits you.”
Connie clapped his hands enthusiastically. “I heard there’s a cultural play in the main square. Could be fun.”
Jean smirked knowingly. “As long as we don’t get dragged into it first.”
Sasha tossed a mischievous glance toward the others. “You two—go make some memories.”
Mikasa gave Eren a subtle nod, her eyes warm. “Shall we?”
Eren rubbed his hands together, still a little flustered but with a smile brightening his face. “Lead the way.”
As the squad melted back into the bustling festival crowd, their laughter and chatter faded into the background.
Eren let out a soft breath. “Think they’ll actually leave us alone now?”
Mikasa’s lips curved into a small smile. “For at least five minutes.”
The two moved deeper into the festival, the glow of lanterns casting soft pools of light around them. The scent of sweetbread and roasted chestnuts filled the air, mingling with the music of a distant flute and the murmur of happy voices.
For a moment, they simply walked side by side, letting the quiet wrap around them like a comforting blanket.
The bustling festival square thrummed with energy, vibrant banners fluttering in the evening breeze as townsfolk gathered around a makeshift stage.
Sasha’s eyes sparkled with excitement as she tugged at Connie’s sleeve. “Come on! The cultural play is about to start! We have to see this.”
Connie grinned, eyes already scanning the crowd for a good spot. “Yeah, and maybe we can sneak in and help somehow. You know, add some flair.”
Jean groaned dramatically from the side. “You two are hopeless.”
Before they could protest, a festival organizer spotted them. “You there! We could use some volunteers for the play!”
Sasha’s grin widened. “Looks like fate’s calling.”
Connie nudged Jean. “See? No excuses now.”
With a resigned sigh, Jean followed as Sasha and Connie practically bounced toward the stage.
Meanwhile, Armin lingered near a food stall, quietly watching Historia help a child balance a small paper lantern. The soft glow illuminated her gentle smile.
“It’s a beautiful night,” Armin said softly, stepping closer.
Historia looked up, cheeks tinged with pink. “It really is. Makes you almost forget everything else.”
Armin nodded. “Almost.”
Their hands brushed briefly as they passed the lantern back and forth, a small moment of warmth amid the festival’s bustle.
Back at the stage, Sasha had somehow managed to convince the organizer to let her play a minor role—a lively village girl with an exaggerated bow. Connie was cast as a bumbling merchant, and Jean, reluctantly, took the part of the grumpy elder.
The play was a whirlwind of laughter, missed cues, and playful jabs, with Sasha stealing the spotlight every time she spoke. Connie tripped over his own feet more than once, much to the amusement of the audience.
Jean’s deadpan delivery of his lines only made the others try harder to keep from breaking character.
From a distance, Eren and Mikasa watched the chaos with quiet smiles, sharing a look that said maybe the squad’s antics weren’t so bad after all.Armin and Historia had drifted away from the main street, the glow of paper lanterns casting a warm haze over the quiet side of the festival. From here, they could still hear the laughter of Connie and Sasha somewhere near the food stalls.
Historia glanced at a row of hanging wind chimes, their soft tinkling mixing with the music. “You know… Ymir once told me these things were a waste of money.”
Armin smiled faintly. “Sounds like her.”
“She said they ‘don’t keep away bad luck, just attract dust.’” Historia chuckled at the memory. “And then she bought one anyway.”
That made Armin laugh. “I can picture it. Acting like she didn’t care, but secretly enjoying it.”
“Exactly.” Historia’s smile lingered for a moment before she turned back toward the lights of the main street. “I guess I just think about things like that more during nights like this.”
Armin nodded gently, his voice warm. “It’s hard not to. Festivals have a way of making you remember people.”
Historia shrugged, a softer smile tugging at her lips. “Well, guess I’ll have to make some new festival memories now.”
Armin’s eyes crinkled in amusement. “Starting tonight?”
“Starting tonight.” She grinned, and the two stepped back toward the livelier noise of the crowd.
The hum of the festival trailed behind them as they wandered toward the quieter outskirts. Lantern light gave way to softer shadows, and the cobblestone path under their boots felt almost too still compared to the chatter they’d left behind.
Eren stuffed his hands in his pockets, glancing sideways at her. “You walk like you’ve got a mission.”
Mikasa didn’t look at him, though the corner of her mouth twitched. “Maybe I do.”
“Oh yeah? What’s the objective?”
Her eyes flicked to him, calm but teasing. “Not losing you in a crowd.”
He scoffed. “Tch… like you’d ever let that happen.”
“That’s the point,” she said simply, and for a moment, he wasn’t sure if she was joking or not.
They strolled in silence for a beat before Eren spotted a small stall still lit, a faint sweet smell drifting from it. He stopped. “Is that… candied fruit?”
Mikasa followed his gaze. “Looks like it.”
A moment later, he was handing her one — bright red sugar glistening over a skewer of berries. “Here. Don’t say I never buy you anything.”
She accepted it, raising an eyebrow. “Is this your idea of spoiling someone?”
“Hey, these are expensive,” he shot back, though the corner of his mouth lifted.
They ate as they walked, the crunch of sugar and distant festival music filling the air between them.
“You’re… different tonight,” she said quietly.
He glanced at her. “Different how?”
“Relaxed,” she replied, her voice thoughtful. “Like you’re actually enjoying yourself.”
Eren looked away, focusing on the uneven stones beneath his boots. “…Maybe I am.”
The street curved, opening to a small rise that overlooked the glow of the festival in the distance. Lanterns flickered like scattered stars on the ground, and laughter drifted up to meet them.
Mikasa stepped ahead, leaning slightly on the wooden railing at the edge. “It’s beautiful from here.”
Eren joined her, his voice softer now. “Yeah. Kinda reminds me of…” He trailed off, the words catching before they could form.
She turned to look at him, curiosity in her eyes, but he didn’t finish the thought.
For a long moment, they just stood there — not talking, not moving — letting the glow and the quiet settle around them like a shared secret.
The amber glow of the festival below wavered in Eren’s vision, not from the distance — but from the memory that began creeping in uninvited.
“…Kinda reminds me of Shiganshina,” he murmured without thinking.
Mikasa’s head turned slightly. “The year before…?”
“Yeah.” His voice had dropped to almost a whisper.
The sound of the present — laughter, the faint pluck of a shamisen somewhere down the hill — began to blur. Instead, in his mind, came the sharper sounds of a younger world: the creak of old wooden stalls, the bark of vendors selling fried bread, the shrieks of children darting between legs.
The light shifted — in his mind’s eye — from the soft festival gold to the harsher, sunlit glow of Shiganshina’s main street.
He was smaller, weaving through the crowd with Armin on his heels, both holding coins clutched in their fists.
“Eren, slow down! You’ll lose your change!” Armin’s younger voice rang in his ears.
“We gotta get there before it sells out!” he’d shouted back, not even turning around.
And then… her. Mikasa, back then, following them with that quiet, watchful stride, a paper lantern in her hands she’d bought without telling them.
The three of them had stopped at the top of the hill outside the old gate, eating sticky sweetbread and watching the way the sun hit the rooftops of their home.
Eren could still taste it. Could still hear the breeze rattling the cheap paper lantern she held.
Back in the present, he realized his chest was tight. His hands gripped the railing harder than he meant to.
“It’s gone,” he said suddenly, voice cracking before he could steady it. “All of it. The streets… the smell of the bread… the—”
His words broke, and so did the fragile wall he’d been holding up.
Mikasa didn’t hesitate. She stepped closer, her arms coming around him in a firm, grounding embrace.
For a heartbeat, he didn’t move. Then his head dropped against her shoulder, and his arms found her back, holding on like the memory itself might drag him under.
The world was quiet now — no festival noise, no crowd — just the sound of his uneven breathing against her scarf.
She didn’t say anything. She didn’t need to.
Eren’s head rested heavily against Mikasa’s shoulder, his breath shaky and uneven as the memories pressed in. She held him tightly, her arms wrapped firmly around his back, grounding him like an anchor in a stormy sea.
“I… I thought I was done with this,” Eren whispered, voice thick with vulnerability. “Thought I could leave it behind—the past, the pain.”
Mikasa’s fingers traced gentle circles along his spine. “It’s not something you just leave behind, Eren.”
He swallowed hard, voice barely audible. “But sometimes it feels like it’s swallowing me whole.”
“Then let me be the one who holds you up,” she murmured. “You don’t have to carry it alone.”
A tear slipped down Eren’s cheek, warm against Mikasa’s skin. “I’m scared,” he admitted, voice breaking. “Scared that everything we lost… that everything we fought for… wasn’t enough.”
Mikasa’s grip tightened just a little. “It was never about being enough. It’s about us, together. We’re still here. We’re still fighting.”
He pulled back just enough to look at her, eyes glistening. “You… you really believe that?”
“I do,” she said, her voice steady, fierce. “Because we have each other. And I won’t let you go—not now, not ever.”
Eren gave a small, shaky laugh, the tension in his shoulders easing just a bit. “You’re impossible.”
She smiled softly, brushing a strand of hair from his face. “And you’re worth every impossible moment.”
They held each other a little longer, the night wrapping around them like a promise — fragile, but unbroken.As Eren and Mikasa stayed wrapped in that quiet embrace, a soft rustling from behind a nearby tree caught their attention.
Suddenly, Sasha, Connie, Jean, and even Historia and Armin appeared, faces lighting up with wide grins — clearly having been spying on them.
Jean smirked, arms crossed. “Well, well, what do we have here? The legendary duo finally caught in the act.”
Sasha giggled, pointing. “Aww, you guys look so cute! Like you’re in one of those silly romance plays.”
Connie nudged Eren teasingly. “Didn’t think you had it in you, big guy.”
Mikasa, cheeks flushed, pushed Eren lightly. “Stop it, idiots.”
Eren cleared his throat awkwardly, stepping back a bit. “It’s not what it looks like.”
Armin, ever the peacemaker, raised his hand gently. “Alright, lovebirds, time to head back. Captain Levi won’t be happy if we’re late.”
Historia smiled warmly, “Yeah, the night’s been fun, but duty calls.”
Reluctantly, Eren and Mikasa separated, still stealing shy glances at each other as they fell in step with their friends.
The group laughed and chatted as they walked back toward the cabin, the festival’s glow fading behind them and the night’s quiet settling in.The walk back was quieter, the festival’s distant laughter replaced by the soft crunch of their boots on the gravel path. Eren and Mikasa stayed close, their earlier awkwardness melting into a comfortable silence.
As they rounded the final bend, the cabin came into view, its windows dark except for a single light flickering inside.
Standing rigid near the doorway was Captain Levi, arms crossed, his usual stern gaze sharper than ever.
“Where have you all been?” Levi’s voice cut through the quiet night like a blade.
Everyone froze, the lightness of the evening vanishing instantly.
Armin stepped forward cautiously. “We were at the festival, Captain. It was just a brief break…”
Levi’s eyes flicked to Eren and Mikasa, who exchanged nervous looks.
“This is no time for breaks,” Levi said coldly. “Especially after the recent attacks.”
His glare hardened. “I expect a full report—starting now.”
The squad’s laughter and chatter were replaced by tense silence.
Eren swallowed hard, feeling the weight of Levi’s scrutiny settle over them like a storm.
Mikasa’s hand found his, a silent reassurance amidst the growing tension.
Levi’s cold stare held firm as the scene faded to black, leaving the night thick with unspoken questions—and looming danger.
Chapter Text
Levi’s eyes swept over each of them in silence, his jaw set. The air was so heavy even the crickets outside seemed to quiet.
Connie shifted uncomfortably. “Uh… Captain, we—”
“Shut it,” Levi said flatly. “I don’t care what excuses you’ve got. You left the base unattended, ignored the schedule, and—” He suddenly narrowed his eyes at Sasha. “Is that festival food in your pocket?”
Sasha froze like a deer in torchlight. “...No?”
A faint grease stain on her jacket betrayed her. Levi sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.
“Unbelievable,” he muttered. “You all vanish for hours, and you—” He stopped mid-sentence, then let out the smallest sigh. “—still manage to come back in one piece. Huh.”
Everyone blinked.
Levi turned toward the door. “Get inside before I change my mind. And wipe your boots.”
Jean stared. “Wait, that’s it?”
“Unless you want me to add extra cleaning duty,” Levi said without turning.
The squad quickly scrambled inside, exchanging baffled looks. Eren and Mikasa lingered for a moment at the back of the group.
Mikasa’s lips curved just slightly. “Not as bad as you thought.”
Eren smirked faintly. “Yeah… almost like he was worried.”
“Almost,” she replied, following the others inside.
From behind them, Levi muttered under his breath, just loud enough for Eren to hear: “Idiots.”
Eren couldn’t help the small grin that tugged at his lips as he stepped into the warm glow of the cabin.
The moment they stepped into the cabin, the smell of the woodfire and faint spice from leftover stew wrapped around them like a blanket. Everyone began peeling off jackets and scarves, the muffled chaos of boots thudding against the wall filling the air.
Connie immediately flopped onto the couch. “I thought we were done for. The way Levi was glaring, I was ready to write my will.”
Sasha was already halfway through unwrapping a paper bundle from her coat. “You should’ve been more worried about me losing this festival meat pie.”
Jean groaned. “Unbelievable. She risked our lives for pastry.”
“It’s worth it,” Sasha said through a mouthful, crumbs scattering over the floor.
Armin glanced between Eren and Mikasa, a faint smirk playing at his lips. “So… you two looked pretty cozy back there.”
Eren’s face warmed instantly. “We weren’t—”
Connie sat up, eyes gleaming. “Ohhh, I knew it! You were hugging!”
Mikasa, ever calm, took a seat at the table and sipped water without saying a word.
Jean leaned forward, a smug grin spreading. “That explains why you were the last ones to catch up. What was it, Eren? Whispering sweet nothings? Or—”
Before he could finish, Mikasa gave him that look. Jean leaned back instantly. “Or… you know… nothing at all. Yep.”
Sasha waggled her eyebrows. “We should’ve taken a picture.”
Eren buried his face in his hands. “Can we not?”
Armin chuckled but quickly changed the subject. “Alright, let’s not give Levi another reason to come back in here. We should get some rest.”
Connie yawned. “Yeah… tomorrow’s another day of drills.”
The group gradually began drifting toward their rooms, the playful atmosphere fading into quiet. Outside, the wind shifted, rattling the cabin’s shutters.
The cabin was finally still, save for the occasional creak of the wooden beams settling. From the kitchen came the faint clink of dishes as Sasha “volunteered” to clean up—which mostly meant finishing her second pie. Connie was already snoring loudly from the couch, having claimed he was “too tired to walk to the bedroom.”
Eren lingered by the fireplace, staring at the last flickers of flame dancing low in the hearth. Mikasa was quietly folding her scarf at the table, her movements deliberate and calm.
“You’re… not going to say anything about all that teasing?” Eren muttered, still feeling the warmth in his cheeks.
Mikasa glanced up, the corner of her mouth curving slightly. “Why would I? It’s just the truth.”
Eren gave her a look, but there was no real bite to it. “You’re impossible.”
Before Mikasa could reply, a loud creak from the stairs made them both turn. Armin appeared halfway down, blanket draped over his shoulders like a cape. “You two planning on sitting there all night?”
“We might,” Eren said.
Armin just shook his head with a knowing smile and retreated upstairs again.
Mikasa stood, walked to the fireplace, and stood beside Eren. The light from the flames softened her features, casting a warm glow between them.
“It was… nice,” she said quietly.
Eren looked at her. “The festival?”
She nodded. “And being there. Together.”
Something in her tone made Eren pause. He opened his mouth to reply—but the kitchen door swung open, and Sasha shuffled past holding an entire loaf of bread like it was the most normal thing in the world. “Don’t mind me. Midnight carb loading.”
Eren and Mikasa exchanged a look and both shook their heads.
When the cabin finally fell quiet again, Eren sank into the couch, Mikasa taking the chair opposite him. No big speeches, no awkward fumbling—just a shared silence that was comfortable enough to feel like home
Eren stood behind Mikasa, holding her scarf gently between his fingers. He hesitated a moment, then carefully draped it around her neck again — just like he’d promised, even though she was fully healed now.
Mikasa stiffened for a second, then gave him a sideways glance. “You’re really not going to let me forget that, huh?”
Eren shrugged with a small grin. “Someone has to keep you safe.”
She rolled her eyes but didn’t pull the scarf away. Instead, she leaned back slightly into him, a faint smile tugging at her lips.
“Well, thank you, then.”
Eren’s cheeks flushed pink, but he dared to whisper, “It suits you.”
Mikasa’s smile deepened, and she turned her head just enough to brush her cheek against his.
“Stop,” she murmured softly, “before you embarrass yourself.”
“Too late,” Eren said, laughing quietly.
Just then, the cabin door creaked open and Sasha peeked in, grinning wildly. “Hey lovebirds! I brought snacks.”
Mikasa raised an eyebrow. “Again?”
Sasha shrugged, holding up a basket filled with roasted sweet potatoes and fresh bread. “Hey, a girl’s gotta eat.”
Eren and Mikasa exchanged amused looks as Sasha plopped down beside them, ready to turn their quiet moment into a cozy feast.
Sasha, grinning mischievously, teased, “So, when’s round two of the ‘not-a-date’? I gotta know so I can bring backup snacks.”
Eren blinked, caught off guard. “Wait, what? ‘Not-a-date’? We never called it that.”
Mikasa looked down, her cheeks tinting a soft pink, but she didn’t say a word.
Eren scratched the back of his neck, glancing nervously at her before answering, “Yeah, it’s not a date or anything. Just… you know, hanging out.”
Sasha raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Uh-huh. ‘Just hanging out.’ That’s what they all say.”
Mikasa’s blush deepened, and she shifted slightly closer to Eren.
Eren cleared his throat, trying to sound casual. “I swear, that’s all it is.”
Sasha smirked. “Alright, but if you keep ‘just hanging out’ like that, people might start talking.”
Eren gave Mikasa a quick, worried look. She just smiled faintly, her eyes warm but shy.
“Let’s just say we don’t mind what people think,” Mikasa said quietly, barely above a whisper.
Eren coughed, trying not to laugh. “Yeah, don’t drag me into this secret club.”
The three of them laughed softly, the cozy cabin filled with a light, playful energy.
The cozy cabin air hummed softly as the trio settled into a comfortable rhythm. Eren shifted on the wooden floor, glancing at Mikasa’s faint blush and feeling a warm flutter in his chest.
Sasha, always the spark of energy, broke the silence. “So, what was the best thing you saw at the festival? No pressure, but I want all the juicy details.”
Eren thought for a moment, then grinned. “Honestly? Just seeing Mikasa smile more than usual. That was... new.”
Mikasa’s cheeks flushed deeper, and she gave him a shy but genuine smile. “It was nice,” she murmured.
Sasha nudged Eren playfully. “See? You’re smooth when you want to be.”
Eren shrugged, pretending to be modest. “Only when I’m not completely flustered.”
The three laughed again, the flickering firelight dancing in their eyes.
Mikasa finally looked up, her voice soft but steady. “Thank you, Eren. For... everything.”
Eren’s heart skipped. “Always.”
The warmth between them was quiet but powerful, a gentle promise in the dim glow.
Outside, the wind whispered through the trees, but inside, all was safe, warm, and filled with the kind of peace they rarely found.
Sasha took a deep breath, her usual bubbly energy softening into something more thoughtful. She poked at a roasted sweet potato, stirring the coals of the fire with a stick absentmindedly.
“You know,” she began quietly, “sometimes, when it’s this quiet, I really miss my parents. Back home, everything was so simple — hunting, cooking together, laughing around the fire.”
Eren nodded, his eyes gentle. “Yeah, I get that. It’s tough being away from family.”
Sasha shrugged, a small, wistful smile tugging at her lips. “They always said I’d make a great cook someday. Maybe even run my own farm if I ever got the chance.”
“That sounds... nice.” Eren smiled warmly. “I bet they’d be proud of you.”
His gaze shifted to Mikasa, who had quietly leaned against him and was now fast asleep, her head resting gently on his shoulder.
Eren’s smile faltered as his own memories crept in—the day the Titans came, the screams, the loss. His voice dropped low, heavy with the weight of pain.
“I lost my parents too... because of the Titans. It wasn’t easy.”
A single tear escaped, trailing down his cheek.
Sasha noticed immediately and reached out, placing a comforting hand on his back. “I’m sorry, Eren. I know how much it hurts.”
He swallowed hard, managing a small nod. “Sometimes it feels like it’ll never go away.”
Sasha squeezed his shoulder gently. “You’re not alone. We all carry our scars. But together... we’re stronger.”
Eren looked down at Mikasa again, her peaceful sleep giving him a moment of calm in the storm.
After a beat, Sasha grinned softly. “Enough of the sad stuff, though. What about you, Eren? What kind of girl would catch your eye?”
Eren blinked, caught a bit off guard by the sudden shift. He glanced down at Mikasa once more, a faint smile returning.
“Well…” he started, scratching his neck awkwardly, “someone strong, who looks out for others. Someone who’s not afraid to be herself.”
Sasha’s grin widened. “Sounds like you already found her.”
Eren smiled sheepishly. “Maybe.”
Sasha nudged him with a playful elbow. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone. Your secret’s safe with me.”
Eren laughed softly. “Thanks, little sis.”
The firelight flickered over them — a small, imperfect family bound not just by battles, but by moments like these.
Eren gave Sasha a warm smile. “Alright, enough about me. What about you? What kind of boy do you like?”
Sasha’s eyes lit up with a mischievous grin. “Someone who can cook a good meal. You know, not just survive, but actually make life better.”
Eren just laughed softly. “Sounds like you know what you want.”
Sasha nudged him playfully. “Of course I do.”
Their easy banter felt like family — teasing without pressure, comfortable and warm.
The fire crackled softly as Sasha stretched, a comfortable silence settling over the group. Eren glanced at Mikasa, still resting peacefully against his shoulder, and smiled quietly to himself.
Sasha’s voice broke the calm. “You know, it’s moments like these that make all the fighting worth it.”
Eren nodded. “Yeah. When things feel normal, even if just for a little while.”
Sasha looked thoughtful. “I miss home sometimes—the woods, the fresh air, my family. But I’m starting to think maybe this is my home now. With you guys.”
Eren’s eyes softened. “We’re all trying to find that. A place where we belong.”
Mikasa stirred slightly but stayed asleep, the warmth of the cabin wrapping around them like a shield.
Sasha yawned, glancing at the fire. “Guess we should get some rest. Big day tomorrow.”
Eren gently shifted Mikasa, making sure she was comfortable before standing. “Yeah. Let’s get ready.”
Eren shifted slightly, nudging Mikasa’s shoulder softly. “Hey, Mikasa… time to get up.”
But Mikasa didn’t stir. Her breathing was deep and steady — clearly out cold from exhaustion.
Eren sighed, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Guess you’re really out.”
He carefully lifted her into his arms, feeling the familiar weight and warmth of her against him.
Just then, Sasha perked up, smirking. “Whoa, look at you, Eren! Carrying her like some prince in a fairytale.”
Eren rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide the faint blush rising on his cheeks. “Shut up, Sasha.”
Sasha grinned wider. “I’m just saying, if you needed an excuse to show off, you nailed it.”
Eren shook his head, carrying Mikasa toward her room with a quiet tenderness.
“Don’t get any ideas,” he muttered.
Sasha chuckled behind him. “Too late. I’m already imagining the dramatic soundtrack.”
Eren gave a mock glare over his shoulder, but inside he felt a quiet happiness — a small moment of peace in their chaotic world.
Eren’s footsteps were soft on the wooden floor as he carefully carried Mikasa down the dimly lit hallway. Her head rested gently against his chest, the steady rhythm of her breath a soothing pulse beneath his shirt.
He reached her room and gently laid her down on the bed, pulling the blanket over her with a tender touch. For a moment, he just stood there, watching her sleep—her peaceful expression a rare sight after all the chaos they’d endured.
“Sleep well, Mikasa,” he whispered, brushing a stray lock of hair from her forehead.
A soft knock interrupted the quiet. Sasha peeked in with a cheeky grin. “Hey, Romeo, don’t forget to lock the door. Wouldn’t want anyone interrupting the princess’s beauty sleep.”
Eren shot her a mock glare but couldn’t help smiling. “I’ve got it covered.”
Sasha waved a playful goodbye and left him alone with his thoughts.
As the door clicked shut, Eren sat down beside the bed, feeling a calm settle over him. For the first time in a long while, he let himself breathe, feeling the quiet strength of the moment—and the quiet promise it held for both of them.
While the cabin settled into sleep, Historia found herself restless. She slipped quietly from her bed, careful not to wake anyone, and stepped outside into the cool night air.
The stars glittered overhead, casting a soft glow on the quiet forest around them. She took a deep breath, the crispness soothing her troubled mind.
Not far away, Armin stood alone, gazing up at the sky, lost in thought. The soft crunch of footsteps caught his attention, and he turned to see Historia approaching.
“Couldn’t sleep either?” he asked gently.
Historia gave a small nod, managing a faint smile. “Too many thoughts. Sometimes it helps to just get some fresh air.”
Armin nodded, his own eyes reflecting the starlight. “I know what you mean. It’s hard to quiet the mind when so much is at stake.”
They stood side by side in comfortable silence, sharing the peaceful moment without needing words.
The cool night air wrapped around them as they stood side by side, the distant sounds of the forest a gentle backdrop to their quiet companionship.
After a pause, Historia glanced at Armin. “Do you ever wonder what life would be like if all this never happened? If we could just live simple lives?”
Armin sighed softly, his gaze still on the stars. “Sometimes. I imagine days without fear, without fighting—just peace.”
Historia smiled wistfully. “It’s hard to hold onto hope, but moments like this make it feel possible.”
Armin turned to look at her, sincerity shining in his eyes. “We have to believe it’s possible. For ourselves, and for everyone depending on us.”
She nodded, feeling a quiet strength in his words.
They walked slowly along the edge of the clearing, the soft grass cushioning their steps. The night was calm, the stars scattered like distant lanterns above.
Suddenly, Historia’s foot caught on a hidden root, and she began to lose her balance.
Before she could fall, Armin’s hand shot out, steadying her gently at the waist.
Their eyes met in the quiet darkness—his wide with concern, hers surprised but grateful.
For a heartbeat, the world seemed to pause, the cool night air wrapping around them.
Historia gave a small, nervous laugh. “Thanks... I’m a bit clumsy.”
Armin smiled softly. “It’s okay. I’ve got you.”
She relaxed under his steady gaze, the weight of the moment settling into something warm and safe.
Armin still held Historia gently, his arms steady around her waist. The closeness made his heart race faster than he expected.
Historia smiled softly, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “You can let go now, you know.”
Armin blinked, a flush creeping up his cheeks as he realized he’d been holding her a moment longer than necessary. He quickly started pulling back, stammering, “Ah—sorry! I didn’t mean to—uh, hold on so long!”
Historia chuckled lightly, reaching out to give his arm a reassuring squeeze. “It’s okay, really. No need to apologize.”
Armin exhaled, the tension easing from his shoulders, but his cheeks stayed pink as he looked down at her with a sheepish grin.
“That was… unexpected,” he muttered.
“So,” Armin began, breaking the comfortable silence, “did you always like the stars? Or is it just a thing you picked up from us scouts?”
Historia smiled thoughtfully. “I think I’ve always found them calming. Like they remind me there’s something bigger out there, beyond all the chaos.”
Armin nodded. “Yeah. It helps me keep perspective, too. When things get overwhelming, I look up and try to remember there’s still hope.”
They lapsed into silence for a moment, the peaceful sounds of the forest around them.
Then, with a shy glance, Historia spoke quietly, “Can I be honest about something? I’ve always felt… like I’m not really sure where I belong. Like I’m playing a part I don’t quite understand.”
Armin’s eyes softened. “I get that. Sometimes I feel like I’m just not smart enough or strong enough to really make a difference.”
Historia reached out, brushing her fingers lightly over his hand. “You make more of a difference than you realize.”
Armin smiled, grateful for the reassurance. “Thanks, Historia. It’s easier to believe that when you say it.”
They shared a small laugh, the tension easing between them.
For a moment, just two people — not soldiers or royalty, just friends — sharing fears and finding comfort in each other’s honesty.
Mikasa’s eyes fluttered open to the soft morning light. She blinked and glanced around, surprised to see Eren asleep in the chair beside her bed, his head tilted slightly, breathing steady.
A small, tender smile curved her lips as she leaned in and pressed a gentle peck on his forehead.
Immediately, she closed her eyes again, pretending to still be asleep.
Eren stirred, blinking slowly as he noticed her movement.
He nudged her gently. “Hey, Mikasa... we’re running late. If Captain Levi finds out, he’s gonna have our heads.”
Mikasa opened one eye, a faint blush coloring her cheeks, but kept the calm, sleepy expression.
“Alright,” she whispered softly.
Eren smiled, relieved she was awake. “Come on, let’s get ready.”
As Eren helped Mikasa sit up, she looked up at him with wide eyes, a flicker of surprise crossing her face.
“How… how did I get here?” she asked softly, her cheeks flushing just a little.
Eren scratched the back of his neck, suddenly feeling a bit awkward. “Well… you were really tired, like, super tired. You kinda—uh—fell asleep before you could walk back, so I carried you. I didn’t want you to hurt yourself or anything.”
Mikasa gave a small, understanding smile, her voice gentle. “It’s okay, Eren. You didn’t have to worry.”
Eren’s face warmed further, and he quickly looked away, trying to hide his blush.
Mikasa’s eyes softened as she looked at him, a faint pink tint coloring her cheeks.
For a quiet moment, neither of them said anything, the unspoken feelings lingering softly in the air.
Eren cleared his throat, breaking the silence. “Uh, I didn’t mean to make things awkward… I just wanted to make sure you were safe.”
Mikasa offered a small, reassuring smile. “I know. And I appreciate it.”
Her fingers lightly brushed against his hand, sending a gentle warmth through him.
For a brief moment, the weight of their world seemed to lift, replaced by a quiet closeness—simple and real.
Eren smiled softly. “We should probably get going. Captain Levi won’t be too happy if we’re late.”
Mikasa nodded, her blush fading but her eyes still holding that gentle warmth.
Chapter 9
Notes:
Today I watched some reels on eremika and it broke my heart how things could have been. This chapter is for all the broken hopeless eremika fans like me. I wish I could watch them one last time. I wish I could see them dance one last time in the rain.
Chapter Text
The long wooden table was set with steaming bread rolls, boiled eggs, and a large pot of porridge in the middle. The faint smell of brewed herbal tea drifted through the cabin.
Levi sat at the head chair, sipping his tea in absolute silence, his expression unreadable. Around him, the rest of the squad filtered in, plates in hand.
Connie plopped down with a yawn. “If we have to do morning drills right after this, I might just fake my own death.”
Sasha, already stuffing a roll into her mouth, mumbled, “I’ll eat yours, then.”
Jean groaned. “Do you ever think about anything besides food?”
“Yes,” Sasha replied instantly. “I think about next food.”
Across the table, Armin tried to stifle a laugh while Historia hid her smile behind her cup.
Levi’s gaze flicked toward Sasha, his tone flat. “If you get crumbs on the floor, you’re cleaning every inch of this cabin.”
Sasha froze mid-bite, then slowly lowered the bread to her plate. “Understood, sir.”
Connie leaned toward Eren and whispered, “It’s like watching a deer spot a wolf.”
Eren smirked but quickly straightened when Levi’s eyes swept the table.
Mikasa, sitting beside him, quietly pushed the butter toward his plate. Eren muttered a “thanks,” earning a subtle upward twitch of her lips.
Jean, clearly bored, jabbed at his porridge. “What is this, anyway?”
“It’s food,” Levi said curtly.
Connie grinned. “If it’s food, then Sasha’s probably already named it.”
Sasha gasped, feigning offense. “I don’t name all my food… just the important ones.”
Historia chuckled softly. “So… what’s this porridge called, then?”
Sasha paused dramatically. “Gregory.”
Armin finally burst into laughter, and even Levi’s eyes narrowed in what might’ve been the ghost of amusement—though no one dared to comment on it.
Levi set his teacup down with a soft clink and glanced around the table, making sure every eye was on him.
“I’m heading out tonight,” he said flatly. “There’s something I need to check in the nearby village. I’ll be back by morning.”
Connie perked up immediately. “So… no drills?”
Levi’s gaze cut to him like a blade. “No. But if I come back and this cabin looks like a pigsty, you’ll be running laps until your legs give out.”
Sasha muttered under her breath, “Pigs don’t even have legs that long…”
Levi’s head turned just enough to let her know he heard it. She sat straighter instantly, face pale.
Levi rose from his seat, adjusted his cravat, and started toward the door. “Behave yourselves. Don’t break anything. Don’t burn anything. And for humanity’s sake…” he opened the door, looking over his shoulder, “…don’t do anything stupid.”
The door shut with a decisive thunk, leaving a brief silence in his wake.
Then Connie leaned back in his chair. “Soooo… who wants to play cards tonight?”
Jean rolled his eyes. “Cards? Really? That’s your grand idea?”
“Better than staring at the wall,” Connie shot back.
Sasha, still chewing, mumbled, “We could roast marshmallows if we had some.”
“We don’t,” Jean said.
“We could find some,” Sasha replied with absolute confidence.
Historia smiled faintly. “That’s… not how marshmallows work.”
Armin was half-listening, his attention on a map spread next to his plate. “Maybe instead of wrecking the cabin, we could just… relax for once?”
Connie groaned. “That’s boring.”
Sasha jabbed a spoon toward him. “Not as boring as losing to me at cards.”
Jean snorted. “You wish.”
Eren sat quietly through the banter, though the corners of his mouth threatened to lift. Mikasa, beside him, pretended to focus on her food, though every now and then she stole a glance at him from behind her scarf.
The room was warm with the smell of porridge and tea, the fire crackling softly in the hearth. Without Levi’s heavy presence, the air felt lighter—though somewhere in the back of everyone’s minds, they knew they still had to keep it together.
Jean reached for the bread basket, only for Sasha’s hand to shoot out like lightning. “Mine,” she declared, hugging it protectively.
“You’ve already had three pieces,” Jean protested.
“That’s called strategic eating,” Sasha said with a mouthful.
Historia stifled a laugh while Armin shook his head. “It’s called being a bread thief.”
Connie pointed his spoon at Jean. “You should challenge her for it. Loser does the dishes.”
“Not worth it,” Jean muttered. “She’d bite me.”
Sasha tilted her head, considering. “…I might.”
Eren quietly sipped his tea, watching the exchange with a small smile. Mikasa stayed silent, though she was subtly pushing the last piece of fruit on her plate toward him.
Sasha’s eyes flicked to the motion, and a slow grin crept onto her face. “You know… that’s just like last night when Eren carried Mikasa to her room.”
Jean’s eyebrow shot up. “Wait, what?”
Connie blinked. “Seriously? That happened?”
“Oh, it happened,” Sasha said, leaning in with mock seriousness. “I saw it with my own eyes.”
“It’s not what you think,” Eren started, his voice edging defensive.
Jean smirked. “Mmhmm. Totally not romantic at all.”
“It wasn’t!” Eren shot back.
Mikasa’s eyes dropped to her cup, her cheeks just faintly pink.
Historia’s lips curved into a teasing smile. “Sounds like we missed a not-date again.”
Eren groaned. “Why do you all keep calling it that? It wasn’t a date!”
Sasha chuckled under her breath. “If you say so…”
Eren grinned and raised his voice just enough for everyone at the table to hear. “Hey everyone, did you know Sasha wants someone as her life partner who can cook well?”
Connie’s eyes lit up. “Ohhh, I get it now! That’s why she’s always sniffing around the kitchen.”
Jean smirked. “Yeah, she’s basically on a mission to find the perfect chef. Watch out, bakers and cooks!”
Sasha crossed her arms, pretending to glare. “Shut up, you idiots. I just want to eat good food, okay?”
Eren laughed. “Sounds like she’s got the best priorities.”
Connie leaned forward, grinning. “Well, if you ever find that chef, you better introduce him to the squad. We wouldn’t want Sasha starving during missions.”
Jean nodded. “Yeah, imagine her trying to sneak snacks during battle.”
Sasha stuck out her tongue. “You’re impossible.”
The laughter around the table grew, filling the cabin with warmth and lighthearted fun, a rare moment of peace amidst their harsh world.
The last crumbs of breakfast disappeared, and the cabin buzzed with the low hum of quiet chatter as everyone began tidying up.
Jean stretched, cracking his knuckles. “Alright, enough sitting around. Let’s get moving.”
Connie grinned, grabbing his jacket. “Yeah, before Levi changes his mind about leaving us alone.”
Sasha shot him a look. “You’re just scared he’ll actually make us do drills.”
Armin chuckled softly, folding the map they’d been studying. “Maybe we should actually take it easy today. A little rest might do us good.”
Historia nodded, brushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “Agreed. We need to stay sharp for whatever comes next.”
Eren glanced at Mikasa, who was quietly gathering her things, her scarf wrapped snugly around her neck. His gaze lingered a moment longer before he turned to the group.
“Let’s make sure we stick together. We don’t want any surprises.”
Connie gave a mock salute. “Captain Eren, understood.”
Laughter bubbled up around the room, the easy camaraderie a small comfort against the shadows looming outside.
The morning sun warmed the small backyard behind the cabin, casting gentle light over the freshly turned soil. Historia knelt on the ground, her hands delicate yet purposeful as she planted tiny seeds into neat rows. She pressed each one carefully into the earth, whispering soft encouragements as if the seeds could hear her.
Armin stepped outside quietly, a watering can in hand. He paused when he saw her so focused, the peacefulness of the moment tugging at something inside him. After a brief hesitation, he spoke.
“Hey, Historia. Mind if I join you?”
She looked up, her face brightening at the sight of him. “Of course, Armin. I’d like that.”
He knelt beside her, the two of them working together in silence for a while, letting the quiet morning speak. Armin tilted the watering can gently, sending a slow stream of water over the newly planted seeds, watching as the droplets soaked into the soil.
“It’s strange,” Armin began thoughtfully, “how something so small can grow into something so strong. A tiny seed… but it holds so much potential.”
Historia nodded, her fingers brushing soil aside as she looked down at the patch of earth. “Plants remind me of people. We all start small, fragile… but with enough care, we grow. Maybe not in the way we expect, but we grow.”
Armin smiled softly. “And even when the weather is harsh, or the earth seems barren, they still reach for the light. It’s… hopeful.”
Historia glanced at him, a flicker of sadness in her eyes. “Sometimes, though, I wonder if people really can change like that. Or if we’re stuck being who we are.”
Armin met her gaze, calm and steady. “I think change is possible. It takes the right conditions — care, patience, support. Like this garden, it’s not just about the seeds. It’s about the environment around them.”
She sighed, a small smile returning. “Maybe this garden is more than just a patch of earth. Maybe it’s a reminder. That growth is possible — even when things seem impossible.”
Armin reached out and gently pressed a hand to hers. “You’re not alone in this. I’m here. We’ll tend this garden together.”
Historia looked down at their hands, then back into Armin’s eyes, a quiet strength blossoming in her smile.
“Thank you, Armin,” she said softly. “For helping me believe in growth. In life.”
They sat together for a moment longer, the morning sun casting warm light over the garden, a symbol of hope and renewal quietly flourishing in their shared silence.
The courtyard basked in the warm glow of late afternoon sunlight, shadows stretching long across the ground. Mikasa was there, alone, moving with quiet intensity as she practiced her strikes and blocks. Each movement was precise, controlled — but there was a softness in the way she breathed, like she was pushing herself gently, but without mercy.
Eren’s footsteps approached quietly, and he paused just out of sight, watching her for a moment. When she finished a fluid spinning kick, he cleared his throat.
“Mikasa,” he said softly, stepping closer, his voice laced with concern. “You shouldn’t be doing this. You just got back on your feet.”
She stopped mid-motion, arms lowered but eyes focused, not meeting his right away. “I know,” she replied quietly. “But I can’t just sit still.”
Eren frowned. “Why? You need to rest, at least a little.”
Mikasa finally turned to him, her dark eyes locking with his. “Because… I need to be strong. Strong enough to keep everyone safe.”
Her words came out almost breathlessly, like she hadn’t fully realized the weight of them until now.
Eren smiled softly, stepping closer until the space between them was just a breath. “Especially to protect me, huh?”
Mikasa’s cheeks warmed with a rosy tint. She glanced down, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Maybe… I didn’t mean to say it like that.”
Eren chuckled, the sound light and teasing. “It’s okay. I think it’s pretty cute.”
He reached out, gently brushing his fingers along her cheek, a tender touch that made her heart flutter.
“You don’t have to carry all of this by yourself,” he said softly. “We’re in it together. Always.”
Mikasa’s lips twitched into a shy smile, and for the first time in a while, she looked a little less guarded.
“Together,” she whispered.
They stood close, bathed in the golden light, the moment filled with quiet warmth — a small but precious comfort in their chaotic world.
Eren offered a small smile, stepping back just enough to gesture toward the large tree nearby, its broad branches casting cool shade over a patch of soft grass.
“Come sit with me,” he said gently. “You’ve been working too hard. Let’s just… relax for a bit.”
Mikasa hesitated for a moment, then nodded, brushing dirt off her pants as she walked toward him.
They settled side by side under the tree, the grass tickling their legs as they leaned back against the rough bark. The breeze rustled the leaves above, sending dappled sunlight dancing across their faces.
For a while, they just sat quietly, the peacefulness wrapping around them like a soft blanket.
Then Eren nudged her playfully. “So… if you had to pick, what’s your favorite food right now? No way you still like steamed rice all the time, right?”
Mikasa shot him a sideways glance, a faint smile teasing her lips. “Don’t underestimate the power of simple food.”
Eren laughed. “Yeah, but there’s gotta be something that makes you happy.”
She thought for a moment. “Maybe something sweet… like those little fruit pies Sasha was talking about last night.”
Eren raised an eyebrow. “Fruit pies, huh? I bet you’d go full-on Sasha mode if someone brought you one.”
Mikasa rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide her smile. “Maybe.”
They fell into a comfortable silence again, the kind that only comes from being with someone who understands without words.
After a moment, Eren grinned mischievously. “You know, you’re kinda weird sometimes.”
Mikasa looked at him, mock offense flashing in her eyes. “I could say the same about you.”
He shrugged, playful. “Takes one to know one.”
Their laughter mingled with the rustling leaves, the world shrinking to just the two of them and the gentle sway of the branches overhead.
Eren stretched his arms behind his head, leaning back against the tree trunk with a contented sigh. “You know, it’s nice to just sit here and not think about Titans or missions for a while.”
Mikasa nodded, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “It feels… peaceful. Like a small moment stolen from the chaos.”
Eren glanced at her, eyes softening. “We don’t get enough of those.”
She shifted slightly, inching closer until their shoulders touched. Neither said anything, but the closeness spoke volumes.
After a beat, Eren smirked. “So, Mikasa, what’s the weirdest thing you’ve ever done?”
Mikasa blinked, surprised by the sudden question. “Weirdest thing?”
“Yeah,” Eren said, grinning. “Come on, you’ve gotta have some secret quirk or embarrassing habit.”
Mikasa considered it, then gave a small, reluctant smile. “Sometimes… when I’m alone, I practice making faces in the mirror. Silly faces.”
Eren laughed, genuine and warm. “No way! You? Making silly faces?”
She nodded, cheeks coloring a little. “It helps… when I’m stressed.”
Eren reached out, nudging her gently with his elbow. “I’m gonna have to see that sometime.”
Mikasa rolled her eyes but smiled, the vulnerability between them growing stronger in these quiet moments.
They sat side by side under the tree, letting the afternoon sun and their easy conversation chase away the shadows that usually lingered around them
Eren glanced up at the swaying leaves overhead, then back at Mikasa with a playful smirk. “Alright, your turn — what about me? What’s the weirdest thing you think I do?”
Mikasa tilted her head thoughtfully, eyes narrowing in mock concentration. “You talk to yourself. A lot.”
Eren chuckled, nudging her gently. “Hey! That’s not weird. It’s… strategic thinking.”
Mikasa raised an eyebrow. “Sure, strategic.”
He grinned. “You should try it sometime. Might help with all that serious thinking you do.”
She scoffed softly, but her lips twitched into a small smile. “I prefer thinking quietly.”
The breeze picked up, carrying the faint scent of pine and earth. For a moment, neither spoke, just enjoying the gentle rhythm of the world around them.
Then Eren sat up a bit straighter, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “You know… I’m really glad you’re here. With me.”
Mikasa met his gaze, her expression softening. “Me too.”
Their hands brushed lightly on the grass, neither pulling away.
Eren’s smile grew a little shy. “Maybe… we should do this more often.”
Mikasa nodded, a quiet warmth in her eyes. “I’d like that.”
As the soft light of the late afternoon bathed them in gold, Mikasa surprised Eren by speaking more than usual.
“You know,” she began, her voice gentle but steady, “sometimes I wonder what life would have been like if things were different… if we never left Shiganshina, if the world wasn’t so cruel.”
Eren turned to look at her, his eyes calm and focused. “Yeah?”
Mikasa nodded, tucking her hair behind her ear. “I miss the quiet days. The small moments… like when we used to play by the river.”
Eren listened quietly, his gaze never leaving her face, tracing every little movement — the way her eyes softened, the slight smile tugging at her lips.
“You always seemed so fearless back then,” he said softly. “Even as kids.”
She glanced down, cheeks warming a bit. “Maybe I wanted to protect you before I even knew what danger was.”
Eren smiled, a mix of tenderness and awe in his eyes. “You’ve always been my strongest.”
She looked back up, surprised by the honesty shining in his gaze.
They sat in comfortable silence for a moment, Eren just watching as Mikasa’s words floated between them.
“Thanks for being here,” she said finally, voice quieter now.
Eren reached out, brushing a stray lock of hair away from her face. “Always.”
The quiet stretched between them, soft and still. Eren’s gaze lingered on Mikasa, watching the way the sunlight caught the strands of her hair, the gentle curve of her jaw, the calm strength in her eyes.
After a few moments, Mikasa’s voice broke the silence, light but curious. “Eren… what are you looking at?”
He blinked, caught off guard. His eyes snapped back to hers, but the words slipped out before he could stop them. “You’re… beautiful.”
The air seemed to still for a heartbeat.
Mikasa’s cheeks flushed a deep crimson. She looked down, suddenly shy, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
Eren immediately realized what he’d said, his face heating up as he stumbled over his words. “I—I didn’t mean to say it out loud. I just—”
Mikasa lifted her eyes, a small, soft smile playing at her lips. “It’s okay,” she whispered, her voice warm but quiet.
Eren cleared his throat awkwardly, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah, well… you are.”
She smiled again, the faintest glow of happiness in her eyes, and the moment settled between them — tender, honest, and just a little bit shy.Eren rubbed the back of his neck, still feeling the heat creeping up his face. “I guess I’m a terrible secret keeper.”
Mikasa chuckled softly, the sound light and genuine. “Maybe. But it’s nice to hear.”
Eren rubbed the back of his neck, still feeling the heat creeping up his face. “I guess I’m a terrible secret keeper.”
Mikasa chuckled softly, the sound light and genuine. “Maybe. But it’s nice to hear.”
Just then, a soft pattering sound reached their ears. Eren glanced up, surprised. Dark clouds had rolled in swiftly, and raindrops began to fall, gentle at first, then growing steadier.
Mikasa’s eyes widened. “We should get inside before we get soaked.”
She stood, brushing grass from her sleeves. “Come on, Eren.”
But Eren shook his head, a mischievous smile tugging at his lips. “No way. Come with me.”
Mikasa blinked, puzzled.
He reached out, taking her hand. “Remember back in Shiganshina? How we used to run out into the rain and just… enjoy it? Forget everything else for a while.”
Mikasa hesitated, then a small smile broke across her face. “You want to play in the rain?”
Eren grinned. “Yeah. Just for a little while. Like we used to.”
Without waiting, he tugged her gently toward the open yard. The rain soaked through their clothes quickly, cool droplets tracing paths down their skin.
Mikasa laughed—a rare, bright sound—shaking her head. “You’re impossible.”
Eren just laughed back, spinning her around. “Come on, Mikasa. Let’s remember what it’s like to be free.”
The rain fell steadily now, a soft curtain of cool droplets draping over the yard. The world felt muffled, peaceful, as if time itself had slowed.
Eren grinned, droplets clinging to his hair and clothes, and glanced at Mikasa, whose expression was a mixture of surprise and quiet amusement.
Without a word, he stepped closer and took her hand again, fingers intertwining with a familiarity that felt like home.
“You don’t have to say anything,” he murmured softly, his breath mingling with the damp air.
Mikasa’s cheeks flushed, but she didn’t pull away. Instead, she allowed herself to be led into a slow, unsteady dance beneath the gray sky.
Their steps were tentative at first, unsure, as the uneven ground shifted beneath their boots.
But soon, the rhythm of the rain—the patter against leaves, the gentle splash around their feet—became their music.
Eren’s hand rested lightly on Mikasa’s waist, pulling her close just enough to feel the warmth radiating from her body.
She tilted her head, shyly meeting his gaze, eyes wide and shimmering like the raindrops around them.
A breeze whispered through the yard, teasing strands of her dark hair across her face.
Eren reached up, brushing them aside with a tenderness that made Mikasa’s heart flutter.
Then, with a sudden burst of confidence, he swept her up into his arms, spinning her gently in the midst of the rain.
Mikasa let out a soft laugh, muffled against his shoulder, her fingers gripping his jacket as the world blurred into the sensation of movement and the steady rhythm of water.
“Eren…” she whispered, voice barely audible, cheeks flushed with a mixture of embarrassment and delight.
He held her securely, his own smile soft and a little shy. “You’re safe,” he said quietly. “Right here.”
They slowed, coming to a gentle stop, the rain soaking through their clothes but doing nothing to cool the warmth blossoming between them.
Mikasa’s gaze dropped, shy and uncertain, but her fingers tightened slightly on his shirt.
For a long moment, neither spoke, just held each other, cocooned in a quiet intimacy as the rain danced around them.
Then, almost as if surprised by her own boldness, Mikasa leaned up and pressed a light, fleeting kiss to Eren’s damp cheek.
His eyes widened, and a faint blush dusted his face.
She smiled shyly, pulling back just enough to meet his eyes again.
“Let’s go inside,” she whispered, voice soft and tender.
Eren nodded, reluctant to break the moment but understanding.
Hand in hand, they walked back toward the cabin, the rain still falling gently, carrying away the weight of the world for just a little while longer.
The gentle rhythm of rain pattered softly as Eren and Mikasa made their slow way back toward the cabin, hands still entwined. The world around them seemed quieter, wrapped in a hushed glow where even the raindrops felt like whispers shared between just the two of them.
Eren glanced down at Mikasa, noticing how her soaked hair clung softly to her cheeks, framing the faint blush that colored her skin. She walked carefully, her steps light and unhurried, as if savoring each moment.
“Mikasa,” Eren said softly, “you don’t have to be so careful with me.”
She looked up, eyes wide for a moment, before a shy smile tugged at her lips. “I’m not worried about you. Just… the mud.”
He laughed quietly. “You’re impossible.”
The path narrowed, lined with wildflowers damp from the rain. Mikasa bent down to touch one, her fingers brushing against a delicate bloom.
“Do you remember the gardens in Shiganshina?” she asked quietly.
Eren nodded, a distant look in his eyes. “Yeah. Mom used to take us there sometimes.”
They paused beneath a large oak tree, raindrops dripping from its leaves like tiny jewels.
Eren glanced at her, heart swelling with a warmth that had little to do with the weather.
Without thinking, he reached out, tucking a wet strand of hair behind her ear. Mikasa’s breath hitched slightly, eyes fluttering shut for a moment.
“It’s nice,” he said softly, “to have a moment like this. Just us.”
Mikasa nodded, her voice barely above a whisper. “Yes. Just us.”
They stood like that, side by side, the rain weaving around them as if to shield their quiet happiness from the rest of the world.
After a moment, Eren gently squeezed her hand, a silent promise that no matter what came, they’d face it together
As Eren and Mikasa stepped through the cabin door, droplets trailing behind them like tiny rivers, the warm glow of the hearth spilled out into the dim room.
But instead of the usual cozy chatter, the moment they appeared was met with a chorus of teasing grins and knowing glances.
Jean leaned casually against the wall, a sly smile tugging at his lips. "Look who’s been playing in the rain."
Connie nudged Sasha, who was barely containing her laughter. "Caught ‘em, boys! Eren carrying Mikasa like some knight in shining armor."
Armin adjusted his glasses, trying to hide his amused smirk behind his hand. "Did we miss the rain dance performance or what?"
Historia smiled softly from her seat, eyes sparkling as they flicked between the two drenched figures.
Eren’s cheeks flamed instantly, and Mikasa pulled her scarf a little higher, her gaze fixed firmly on the floor.
Sasha leaned forward, wagging a teasing finger. "Well, well. Looks like someone had fun out there."
Eren cleared his throat, trying to sound casual. "It was just… raining."
Jean chuckled. "Sure it was."
The playful atmosphere bubbled around them as the squad exchanged knowing looks, ready to keep the teasing going.
Mikasa shot a quick glance at Eren, who gave a small, embarrassed smile back.
Chapter 10
Notes:
Writing this fic after a long time. Was facing some health issues. So, am not sure if this chapter is peak or not but I have tried my best and hopefully you guys will like it. One more thing, I am not leaving this fic at all. I might be late at updating sometimes but not gonna leave it unfinished. Your comments motivate me to write.
Chapter Text
Connie barked out a laugh and cupped his hands like a trumpet.
“Ladies and gentlemen, behold—the legendary Rain Dance Duo!”
Sasha slapped the table with both palms, nearly knocking over her mug. “And the way he carried her—did you all see it? Like they were in some storybook!”
Eren groaned. “You guys are impossible.”
Armin tilted his head, lips twitching. “You didn’t deny it though.”
That earned a round of laughter, and even Historia let out a tiny giggle, covering her mouth with her hand.
Mikasa tugged at her damp scarf, cheeks bright red, and muttered under her breath, “It wasn’t… like that.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Jean drawled, flopping into his chair with a smirk. “Next you’ll say he didn’t spin you around like you were made of glass. Honestly, Jaeger, you’re more dramatic than half the nobles I’ve met.”
Eren’s ears went hot, and he shot Jean a glare sharp enough to cut stone. “Shut up, horse-face.”
The insult only fueled the fire—Connie nearly fell over laughing, Sasha wheezed, and even Armin couldn’t help chuckling behind his hand.
“Alright, alright,” Sasha said between gasps, “enough with the excuses. You two just handed us free entertainment, and we’re not letting it go that easy.”
Historia set her teacup down, her smile gentle but mischievous. “Then maybe we should make a game of it.”
Sasha’s eyes lit up instantly, like a spark catching dry kindling. “Yes! Truth or Dare!”
Connie slapped his knee. “Finally! Something fun!”
Jean groaned dramatically, rubbing his forehead. “Oh great. Here comes the childish nonsense.”
“That’s rich, coming from the guy who cried after eating a chili pepper,” Connie shot back.
“That was one time!” Jean snapped, his ears turning red as the room burst into laughter again.
Eren rolled his eyes, heading toward the fire to warm his hands, but Sasha’s voice rang out before he could slip into the background.
“No escaping, Eren. You and Mikasa are definitely playing.”
Mikasa stiffened, shooting her a sharp look, but Sasha only grinned wider, unfazed.
Armin sighed, though a smile tugged at his lips. “Well… it might be fun. We could all use a distraction after today.”
Historia nodded softly. “Let’s do it. We deserve to laugh a little.”
And just like that, the circle began to form around the hearth, the storm outside a gentle backdrop to the warmth and mischief brewing inside.
Eren reluctantly sank onto the rug, Mikasa settling quietly beside him. Sasha practically bounced in place, rubbing her hands together like a scheming cat.
The game had begun.
Sasha leaned forward, eyes sparkling like a cat who had spotted a mouse. “Alright! Truth or Dare it is. No backing out.”
Jean groaned, tilting his chair back dangerously. “Why are we doing this again? We’re supposed to be soldiers, not kids at a sleepover.”
“Because,” Sasha shot back, wagging her finger, “soldiers need morale. And what better morale than humiliating each other for fun?”
Connie clapped. “She’s got a point.”
Armin chuckled, setting aside the book he had picked up. “Just admit it, Jean. You’re afraid of what’ll come out.”
Jean scowled. “I’m not afraid of anything.”
“Then you won’t mind going first!” Sasha declared, pouncing on the opportunity.
Jean’s face fell. “Wait—what? No! That’s not—”
“Too late,” Connie cut in, grinning wide. “Truth or Dare?”
The rest of the squad leaned in with interest. Historia sipped her tea, looking almost innocent, though her eyes glimmered with quiet amusement.
Jean hesitated, clearly calculating which option would get him into less trouble. “...Truth.”
“Coward,” Connie muttered.
Sasha’s hand shot up. “Ooooh, I’ve got one! Jean, do you like anyone right now?”
Jean’s face turned scarlet so fast it was almost comical. “Wh—what kind of question is that?! That’s private!”
“Not in Truth or Dare, it’s not,” Armin said, trying and failing to hide his grin.
Everyone’s eyes were on Jean now, and his jaw worked furiously. “Tch… fine. I… might.”
“OHHH!” Connie howled, pounding the floor with his hand. Sasha practically bounced in her seat.
“Who is it?” Historia asked sweetly, clearly entertained.
Jean nearly toppled his chair trying to wave them off. “That’s not part of the question!”
Sasha pouted. “Lame.”
“Next!” Jean barked, crossing his arms and sinking low in his chair.
Connie raised his hand immediately. “Me, me, me!”
“Alright, Connie,” Sasha said, rubbing her hands together. “Truth or Dare?”
“Dare,” he said confidently, puffing out his chest.
Sasha’s grin turned wicked. “I dare you to… bark like a dog and run around the cabin twice.”
The room burst into laughter, but Connie only saluted. “Easy!”
He dropped to all fours and, without hesitation, barked loudly enough to startle everyone. Then he dashed around the cabin in a ridiculous circle, knocking over Jean’s chair and nearly colliding with the table.
“Woof! Woof! I’m the Titan Hound!”
By the time he collapsed back into the circle, wheezing and grinning, everyone was laughing so hard their sides hurt. Even Mikasa, who usually stayed reserved, was biting her lip to keep from smiling too obviously.
Connie beamed. “Worth it.”
“Alright, alright,” Armin said, wiping his eyes. “My turn, I guess.”
Sasha smirked. “Truth or Dare?”
“Truth.”
She leaned closer. “Okay, Armin… who do you trust the most in this room?”
Armin blinked, startled, then smiled faintly. “That’s easy. Eren and Mikasa. Always.”
Mikasa shifted slightly, her gaze flicking toward him, and Eren gave a small, almost grateful smile. The sincerity in Armin’s voice softened the laughter for a moment, reminding them all of the bonds that tied them together.
But then Connie broke the silence with a fake sniffle. “Aww, Armin, that’s so cute. You’re gonna make me cry.”
The circle dissolved into giggles again.
Historia placed her cup down and folded her hands in her lap. “I’ll go next. Truth.”
Jean perked up immediately. “Oh, I’ve got this one—do you think Connie’s barking was funny, or pathetic?”
Historia giggled softly. “Funny. Definitely funny.”
Connie raised his arms in victory. “Yes! Royal approval!”
Historia smiled warmly, but her eyes flicked briefly toward Armin. He caught her glance, and for a moment, their gazes lingered before they both quickly looked away.
Sasha, never one to miss a beat, turned sharply toward Eren and Mikasa, her grin positively wicked. “Alright, alright… I think it’s time we brought in our Rain Dance stars.”
Mikasa’s shoulders stiffened, and Eren’s stomach dropped. “What? No.”
“Yes,” Sasha said firmly, pointing at them both. “Eren, Truth or Dare?”
Everyone leaned in, anticipation thick in the air.
Eren crossed his arms, defiant. “Truth.”
Sasha’s grin widened. “Alright then. Who’s the person you’d risk your life for without hesitation?”
The room hushed instantly.
Eren froze, caught in the spotlight. His first instinct was to say Armin, then Mikasa, then everyone—all true, all real. But his throat caught on Mikasa’s name, and when his eyes flicked toward her, even for the briefest second, it was enough.
Connie gasped dramatically, pointing. “He looked at her! He totally looked at her!”
Eren’s face went crimson. “I didn’t—shut up, Connie!”
Mikasa turned her head away quickly, tugging her scarf higher to hide her burning cheeks.
Jean smirked. “Wow. Guess we don’t need any more proof.”
“I-It was just—” Eren stammered, glaring at the circle. “You guys are reading too much into it!”
Armin chuckled softly. “You didn’t actually answer the question, Eren.”
That only made things worse—everyone’s laughter echoing through the cabin as Eren buried his face in his hands.
Sasha wasn’t done. She leaned closer, her grin devilish. “Okay, Mikasa. Your turn. Truth or Dare?”
Mikasa’s heart hammered in her chest, but she forced her voice steady. “...Truth.”
Sasha pounced immediately. “Who’s the person you care about most in the world?”
The fire crackled, filling the silence that followed.
Mikasa’s lips parted, but no words came. Her gaze slid, almost unconsciously, toward Eren—just for a heartbeat—before she snapped it back to the fire.
“I… can’t answer that,” she murmured, pulling her scarf higher.
The room erupted anyway.
“Too obvious!” Connie yelled.
Jean let out a low whistle. “Looks like the scarf’s hiding more than just her face.”
Mikasa turned scarlet, and Eren felt his own face heat up until he thought he might combust.
Historia giggled behind her hand, and even Armin, despite trying to stay composed, couldn’t hide his smile.
Sasha clapped her hands in triumph. “I knew it! The Rain Dance wasn’t just a dance—it was destiny!”
Eren groaned, wishing for a Titan to smash through the cabin just to end his suffering.
But despite the relentless teasing, despite the burning embarrassment, a small part of him—one he couldn’t quite bury—felt strangely… happy.
The cabin hummed with quiet energy, the rain outside casting soft, rhythmic drumming against the wooden roof. The warmth from the hearth pooled across the floor, mingling with the smell of leftover stew and fresh bread. Sasha, ever brimming with energy and a mischievous grin.
Jean rolled his eyes but smirked. “Yeah, yeah. Moving on. Sasha, your turn—truth or dare?”
Sasha puffed her cheeks and tapped her chin. “Hmm… dare!”
“Finally,” Jean muttered.
“Alright!” Connie said eagerly. “I dare you to… sing the silliest song you know in front of everyone.”
Sasha’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “Oh, that’s easy!” And before anyone could react, she launched into a ridiculously dramatic, high-pitched version of a local children’s song, flinging her arms around like a performer on stage.
Everyone burst into laughter, Eren clutching his stomach, Mikasa quietly smiling but shaking her head. “You’re ridiculous,” she murmured.
Sasha bowed theatrically at the end of her song. “Thank you, thank you! I’ll be here all week!”
Armin, finally recovering from laughter, turned to Historia. “Your turn—truth or dare?”
Historia tilted her head, considering, then said softly, “Truth.”
Armin’s gaze flickered, then he asked gently, “If you could change something about yourself… what would it be?”
Historia hesitated, eyes lowering to the floor, voice soft. “I… I think I’d like to be braver. Not just for myself… but for everyone around me.”
Armin’s expression softened. “I think you are brave,” he said quietly. “More than most of us.”
She smiled faintly at him, a warmth in her eyes. “Thank you… Armin.”
The circle moved along, playful dares and truths filling the cabin with laughter, teasing, and the occasional groan of embarrassment.
Then it was Sasha’s turn again. “Eren and Mikasa—both of you, truth or dare?”
They exchanged a glance, silent communication passing between them. Finally, Eren said, “Truth,” Mikasa following silently.
Sasha leaned forward, voice dripping with playful malice. “Alright… truth. Eren… what’s the most… uh… embarrassing thing you’ve done in front of Mikasa?”
Eren choked slightly on his laughter, glancing at Mikasa who was now visibly flushed, her eyes darting to the floor. “I… uh… tripped in front of her. On purpose?”
Sasha gasped dramatically. “On purpose!? That’s… wait… why would you—”
Eren waved a hand, flustered. “I don’t know! Maybe I… wanted her to notice me?”
Mikasa blinked, her cheeks deepening into a rosy shade. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, clearly embarrassed.
Sasha leaned back, clapping slowly. “Ohhh… this is going to be fun. You guys are going to make my night.”
Connie elbowed Jean, whispering loudly enough for everyone to hear, “Looks like the rain isn’t the only thing that’s wet tonight.”
Jean groaned, rolling his eyes, while Eren sputtered, “Shut up, both of you!”
Sasha wasn’t done, though. “Your turn, Mikasa. What’s something… silly you’ve done around Eren that no one else knows?”
Mikasa hesitated, gaze dropping to the floor. “…I… I followed him once… when he went for a run.”
“Followed him?” Sasha squealed. “Like… stalked him?”
Mikasa’s cheeks flared red. “I… just… wanted to make sure he was okay.”
Eren’s jaw dropped, then a small, amused smile tugged at his lips. “You… really did?”
Mikasa nodded faintly, voice almost a whisper. “I did.”
Sasha clapped gleefully. “Aww! That’s adorable! You two are gonna make me rich with material!”
The circle erupted in laughter again, the teasing bouncing off the walls like warm sunlight.
The game continued, dares getting sillier, truths revealing small secrets. Laughter bounced across the cabin, warm and chaotic, filling the air like sunlight after rain.
Sasha, eyes sparkling with mischief, clapped her hands and pointed at Mikasa. “Alright, Mikasa! Dare!”
Eren’s head snapped up immediately. “Wait—what? No—”
“Yep,” Sasha said, grinning like she’d already won. “I dare you… to sit on Eren’s lap for the next round.”
Eren’s jaw dropped, and his hands went up defensively. “What? Absolutely not! No way!”
Mikasa’s eyes flickered briefly to Eren, who was now turning a deep shade of red, and without a word, she calmly moved closer to him. Quietly, with just the slightest shrug, she lowered herself onto his lap, curling subtly against him.
The room erupted. Connie’s eyes went wide. “Whoa! Did she just…?”
Jean leaned back, smirking. “Well, I did not expect that.”
Sasha nearly fell over in laughter. “YES! That’s perfect!”
Eren froze, his hands hovering awkwardly in mid-air before he carefully settled them around her waist, still flushed but trying to act normal. “I… uh… she didn’t have to, really,” he stammered, barely audible.
Mikasa’s expression was serene, almost unreadable, but her faint blush betrayed her quiet embarrassment. She tucked her hands neatly in her lap, head tilting slightly toward Eren’s shoulder.
Armin, adjusting his glasses, let out a soft laugh. “I think I missed some key training in observation,” he muttered, eyes flicking between the two.
Sasha leaned forward, clapping her hands again. “Yes! This is exactly the kind of fun I wanted. Eren, you look like a tomato!”
Eren groaned, pressing a hand to his face. “Thanks a lot.”
Mikasa, ever calm, merely shifted slightly, resting lightly against him, quiet but present. The room buzzed with teasing and laughter, but the warmth between them—the subtle, unspoken connection—was undeniable.
Connie nudged Jean. “Man, I’m never playing against Sasha again. She’s ruthless.”
Jean shook his head, smirking. “She’s not ruthless. She’s a genius at embarrassment.”
Sasha, finally taking a breath between laughs, leaned back, eyes sparkling. “And you two… just sit there, making this too easy. I love it!”
Eren, still red-faced, whispered softly to Mikasa, “You didn’t have to… really.”
Mikasa glanced up at him briefly, her blush deepening, then lowered her gaze again. “…I know.”
The laughter and playful chaos continued, dares and truths flowing, but for Eren and Mikasa, there was a quiet intimacy, subtle and tender, amidst the teasing.
Sasha, still giggling from the earlier dares, clapped her hands and turned toward Armin and Historia. “Alright, you two! Since Eren and Mikasa were so… cute, it’s your turn. I dare Historia to sing something for us!”
Historia’s eyes widened, a faint pink spreading across her cheeks. “M-me? Sing?”
“Yep! And Armin, you’re supposed to… um… help her!” Sasha added with a mischievous grin. “You can hold something, nod along, or whatever—it’s part of the dare!”
Armin’s glasses fogged slightly from his nervous breath. “I-I… alright…” His voice was barely audible, and he fidgeted, unsure how to assist without looking ridiculous.
Historia took a small breath, her hands clenching lightly together. “I… I’ll try.”
The rest of the squad gathered closer, whispering and nudging each other. Jean smirked. “This should be… interesting.”
Connie leaned forward, eyes bright. “Come on, Historia! Sing us something nice!”
Armin awkwardly shuffled closer, picking up a small candle from the table. “I… guess I’ll hold this?” he murmured, glancing at Historia.
Historia nodded, her lips parting, and a soft, trembling voice began a gentle melody. The song was light, almost like a lullaby, weaving around the flickering firelight. Armin shifted slightly closer, keeping the candle steady, his heart racing faster than he expected.
As she sang, Historia’s cheeks grew warmer with every note. She stole tiny glances at Armin, who returned them with shy encouragement, his hands trembling just slightly as he adjusted the candle.
Sasha leaned back, arms crossed, smirking. “Look at them! I didn’t think they’d actually do it!”
Jean snorted softly. “They’re cute… in a quiet, awkward way.”
Connie nodded eagerly. “I love it! They’re actually following the dare!”
The song continued, Historia gaining confidence as she saw Armin’s steady gaze and gentle encouragement. Every now and then, their shoulders brushed lightly as they shifted positions, sending a tiny jolt through both of them. Neither spoke, but the warmth of the moment lingered between them.
As the last note of the song faded, Historia’s hands shook slightly, and she lowered her gaze, embarrassed. Armin quickly held out the candle a little more firmly, giving her a reassuring smile.
“It… sounded beautiful,” he whispered, soft enough for only her to hear. His own face turned slightly red, not wanting the rest of the squad to notice.
Historia blinked, her lips curving into a tiny smile. “Thank you, Armin.”
Sasha clapped her hands loudly, breaking the quiet. “Bravo! See? Dares are fun! Now everyone knows you two make a cute pair, too.”
Armin coughed lightly, adjusting his glasses. “I-I didn’t—”
“You don’t get to deny it,” Sasha teased, wiggling her eyebrows. “You helped her sing! That’s basically romantic.”
Historia’s face flamed even more, but she nudged Sasha gently with her elbow. “It wasn’t… like that!”
Jean chuckled, shaking his head. “Sure, sure. Just admit it—you two are adorable.”
Connie grinned widely. “Next dare, someone’s going to have to hold Historia’s hand while she sings again!”
Armin and Historia both froze, eyes locking, silent agreement passing between them to try and survive Sasha’s teasing. They moved slightly apart, though the warmth of their closeness lingered.
The squad erupted into quiet laughter, teasing whispers, and playful nudges, but amidst it all, Armin and Historia shared one last glance—soft, shy, and full of the gentle affection that had begun to blossom between them.
It was a quiet, understated moment, but one that neither of them would forget, lingering long after the dare had ended.
As the group continued teasing and laughing, Eren’s eyes kept finding Mikasa’s. She was still perched lightly on his lap, now leaning slightly against him in a quiet, comfortable closeness. He couldn’t help but stare, feeling the warmth of her presence seep into him.
Mikasa, noticing the lingering gaze, gave him a subtle, shy smile. She tugged her scarf a little higher but didn’t pull away, letting him feel the intimacy of the moment.
Sasha, sensing an opportunity, leaned over with a mischievous grin. “Hey! You two have been quiet for a while. Don’t tell me you’re… enjoying the rain outside too much?”
Eren sputtered again, cheeks burning red. “We weren’t—uh—just—”
Mikasa’s blush deepened, and she pressed slightly closer, as if trying to hide from Sasha’s gleeful teasing.
Connie and Jean leaned in, catching on quickly. “Oooohhh, looks like the rain made the two of you… cozy!”
Sasha bounced with laughter. “I told you! Nothing like a little rain to bring out the cuteness!”
Despite the teasing, the warmth between Eren and Mikasa remained unbroken, subtle but undeniable. Their hands brushed occasionally, shoulders touched softly, and every small contact felt magnified in the cozy glow of the cabin.
Armin, observing from his side with Historia, couldn’t help but smile at the group dynamic. Even amidst the teasing and playful dares, there was a softness, a quiet comfort in the way they all interacted.
Historia leaned slightly against him, whispering, “They’re… really close, aren’t they?”
Armin nodded. “Yeah… but it’s nice to see them happy like this.”
Sasha, never one to leave a quiet moment alone, jumped back into mischief. “Alright, let’s wrap up the dares! Eren, Mikasa, now you get to pick the next victims!”
Eren groaned, glancing at Mikasa, who simply gave a faint shrug and a tiny, shy smile. Together, they scanned the group, thinking up playful and harmless challenges for their friends.
The evening carried on, filled with laughter, soft music, and the comfortable crackle of the fireplace. The rain outside continued its gentle symphony, blending with the warmth inside the cabin to create a cocoon of playful intimacy.
And as the night grew darker, with the storm softening into a gentle drizzle, the group eventually started to drift toward their rooms. The dares and teasing faded into quiet conversations and soft chuckles, leaving Eren and Mikasa lingering a moment longer, their hands brushing, hearts quietly echoing each other’s presence.
The stage was set for the night’s slow, intimate moment, just the two of them—quiet, shy, and full of unspoken warmth.
The fire in the cabin’s hearth flickered softly, throwing long shadows across the room. Outside, the drizzle had slowed to a gentle mist, the air fresh with the scent of rain-soaked earth. Eren and Mikasa sat close together on the floor near the window, the quiet stretching comfortably around them.
Eren’s heart pounded, every word from earlier still echoing in his mind. He looked at her—at the softness in her gaze, the way her hair curled slightly with dampness, the faint flush on her cheeks. He felt an irresistible pull, a moment that demanded courage.
Slowly, almost hesitantly, he leaned forward. Mikasa’s eyes widened slightly, her breath catching. Eren’s lips met hers in a gentle, tentative kiss. Time seemed to still—the warmth from the fire, the misty rain outside, the quiet of the cabin—all faded into the background.
Mikasa’s hands froze midair, the sensation overwhelming her. Her cheeks flared red as she realized just what was happening. In a mixture of shyness and instinct, she stepped back, breaking the kiss.
Eren blinked, confusion and concern flashing across his face. “Mikasa…?”
She swallowed hard, her voice barely above a whisper. “I… I…” She averted her eyes, unsure how to explain the sudden surge of emotions that made her pull away.
Eren’s chest tightened. Her stepping back, her hesitation—it wasn’t rejection, but his mind twisted it into something else. “It’s… okay,” he murmured, forcing a small smile, trying to mask the sudden sting of misunderstanding.
Mikasa blinked, looking at him with quiet surprise. “Okay?”
Eren nodded. “Yeah. Don’t worry about it.” He stood abruptly, smoothing his damp hair back as if trying to erase the moment from his mind. “I… I should get to my room.”
“Wait—” Mikasa began, but Eren was already moving toward the door, leaving her with a puzzled frown. Her heart fluttered as she realized he misunderstood her shyness, yet the sudden goodbye left her feeling a strange emptiness.
Eren entered his room, closing the door behind him with a soft click. He leaned against it for a moment, the weight of the night pressing down on him. His mind replayed every detail—the kiss, Mikasa’s cheeks, the way she had stepped back.
“She doesn’t… she doesn’t like me,” he muttered under his breath, though part of him knew it wasn’t true. The flush on her cheeks, the way her hands had gripped her scarf—they had to mean something. But his fear of misreading it gnawed at him, twisting the moment into a misconception he couldn’t shake.
He sank onto his bed, staring at the ceiling, heart pounding. “I… I ruined it,” he whispered, the words tasting bitter. “She stepped back… she doesn’t want this. She doesn’t…”
A single thought, a painful spike of doubt, repeated over and over in his mind. She doesn’t like me. She doesn’t…
Eren buried his face in his hands, the warmth of Mikasa’s closeness still lingering, conflicting sharply with the sting of his misunderstanding. The quiet hum of the cabin outside, the faint laughter from the other rooms—they all seemed distant now, irrelevant to the turmoil inside him.
He pulled the blanket over his shoulders, curling slightly, as if shielding himself from the confusion and the ache of misread signals. Every sound, every memory of Mikasa’s shyness, every flutter of her heartbeat he thought he could feel—it twisted in his mind, making the night feel heavier.
Finally, he let out a shaky sigh, the mix of longing and doubt making him feel almost dizzy. “It’s fine,” he muttered, though even he didn’t believe it. “It’s… fine.”
Outside, the cabin was quiet, the rain softened to a whisper. Inside, Eren’s mind spun, caught between what had happened and what he feared it meant