Chapter Text
Day 1
Probably the worst thing about Waltzing Matilda was the fact that it was catchy as hell. The song had played once and once only, and Mikasa knew in her head that the only sounds she could actually hear were the complaints of 149 other students as they shuffled blearily into the mess hall, but she could swear she could still hear it when she found her seat. Once, a long time ago, she could honestly say she hated her life - and although it was much better now, this camp shit was getting pretty close.
She groaned.
“And he sang as he sat and waited til his billy boiled, ‘who’ll come a-waltzing matilda with me?’”
She groaned louder. “ Shut up ,” she hissed, and Mina actually squeaked when she sat down across from her.
“S-Sorry,” she mumbled weakly, and part of Mikasa died a little when she remembered what Armin had said about people being afraid of her. “It’s… stuck in my head…”
Mikasa huffed guiltily. “No, Mina - I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap. Did you - uh - did you sleep okay?”
“She probably slept better than us,” said Ymir as she dropped into her seat as well. “She didn’t have to deal with you and Annie arguing about stupid ass shit last night.” She shook her head. “I can’t believe Principal Smith thought it would be a good idea to make to the two of you school leaders, you can’t even put your damn differences aside for one fucking second…”
“Ymir, don’t swear so much, Mr. Ackermann will hear.” Historia nudged her and jerked her head meaningfully at the boys’ table where the counsellor in question was laying out jars of unlabelled breakfast spread.
“Fuck him,” snapped Ymir. “He looks like he’s enjoying this torment way too much anyway. And he wasn’t up all night listening to the two six year olds who are supposed to be school and sports captains.”
Mikasa frowned at her. “Rude, much?”
“It ain’t rude if it’s true.” Ymir scowled at her and tossed a napkin at her face. “Don’t even fucking start, okay. Annie didn’t even provoke you this time, most of that shit was you. And I’m not saying she’s completely faultless either - she should have had the maturity to just get over it - but the fact is you both act like fucking children and I swear to god that if you pull this shit again tonight, I will murder you in your bunks.”
Mikasa gaped at her for what she hoped wasn’t actually an entire two minutes, but when she had finally realized she could control her jaw again, Armin was standing at the end of the table with a grin. Annie appeared at his elbow not a second later, peering curiously at the pile of cards in his arms.
“Cabin names,” he said, leafing through them. “Here.”
Mikasa blinked. “House Tyrell?” she read aloud with a frown. “Armin, you know I love Game of Thrones as much the next girl, but what, did you pick the house with most flowery emblem and give it to us because we’re girls?”
“Uhm, no?” said Armin almost nervously. “I mean - that wasn’t what I intended at all...”
“He picked it because House Tyrell is known for its women,” quipped Annie, helping herself to a piece of toast and some of the unlabelled spread. “They’re capable in their own right - they know how to play the game without compromising their own values while still maintaining traditional standards of beauty. That should have been easy enough to figure out.”
Armin stared at her. Then he let out a sigh of relief. “That’s - yeah - exactly,” he said. He nodded at his own table. “We’re House Baratheon.”
“Because Stannis is the closest they have to stable form of government?” asked Annie.
“You are good ,” said Armin, high fiving her. “Um. Mina, I know you’re not bunking with them because there’s only six beds per bunk, but you’re part of the new leadership team, so for everything except sleeping, you’re part of House Tyrell. It’s the same with Marco. He’s bunking in Arryn but techincally a Baratheon. Annie, do you wanna come and hand these out with me?”
“Nah. Breakfast.” And Annie waved him off, turned back to the rest of them and was met with five blank stares and Mikasa’s bitter scowl.
“Nerd ,” sneered Ymir.
She gave her a dignified shrug in response, but what dignity she had was lost when she bit into her toast. She gagged, spitting it back out almost immediately, and scrambled for the nearest glass of water.
“What the fuck is that?” she gasped.
On Historia’s other side, Sasha paused over her cornflakes and raised an eyebrow. She snatched at the jar and gave it a cautious sniff. “Is - is this Vegemite ?” she asked making a face. “Waltzing Matilda and Vegemite - what, did we take the bus to Australia or something? What the hell kind of camp is this?”
Mikasa felt the chill before she even heard the voice. The shadow passed over them like something ominous, and across from her, Annie’s face went from pale to paler in less than a second. In any other circumstance, Mikasa probably would have thought this was funny - but the shadow behind her had a voice that made her wish she still had Waltzing Matilda stuck in her head to drown it out.
“This,” it said darkly, “is one of the best school retreats in the country. Schools will send me their best, and their worst, and I’ve heard that you lot are among the worst. ”
Mina audibly gulped.
Historia shrunk in her chair.
The mess hall had gone silent, and Mikasa’s lungs felt tight in her chest. She was pretty sure the air was sucked out of the room at the same time this presence entered it, and she swallowed, took the deepest breath she could manage and turned her head.
The man behind her was the most imposing man she’d ever met in her life. He was tall, and bald, and he glared down at their table with eyes that could see through bullshit before it was even excreted. Something like a smirk crossed his face.
“ON YOUR FEET, 104.”
Mikasa felt herself spring from her seat. The others did too, and Sasha dropped the jar with a loud thunk. The man behind them snorted and turned to face the rest of the assembly.
“Welcome to the Shadis Retreat Centre,” he boomed. “I am Keith Shadis. You will refer to me as Commander Shadis or sir, am I understood?”
The mess hall quivered and 150 odd students mumbled terrified “Yes sirs,” under their breaths.
Shadis snorted. “You have been sent here because at the beginning of the next school year, you will be expected to lead your peers. Not just you,” he added, glaring at the two leadership tables at the head of the hall. “ All of you are expected to be role models for the younger grades. Your principal probably referred to this as a retreat; your last chance to bond before your final school year takes you into the next phase of your lives - but this far from just a ‘retreat’. Here, you will learn to live without conveniences you have grown used to. You will learn how to survive without infernal devices such as cellphones. You will learn to communicate with each other instead of spending every waking moment blogging about your uneventful teenaged lives. You will learn to solve your own problems instead asking for help and expecting an adult to solve them for you. Many of you will become legal adults this year, and you will learn to act like it at this camp.”
“Do not think that this will be an easy ride. You are here to learn, but you are also here to work. You have been assigned various tasks that are to be completed when you are not participating in camp activities. Your cabins will be inspected daily. Each night, a group of you will be expected to make and serve dinner to your peers. There will be no getting out of any activity unless your cabin leader can verify that you have a valid excuse. There will be no cursing on the premises, and if I personally hear you doing so, I will increase the workload of your entire cabin. Food wastage - ” he shot a backwards glance at Annie and her unfinished toast - “is frowned upon, and fighting is not tolerated.” He took a few seconds to let this sink in. Mikasa could swear even the bugs outside had stopped buzzing around in fear. “I am not a patient man,” Shadis said after a moment. “Nor am I forgiving. Give me a reason to send you home and I will.” Then he turned on his heel and stomped out of the mess hall.
Nobody moved. Nobody was sure they were allowed. It wasn’t until Hange sauntered in front of them with a terrified looking Armin in stride that they realized the address was over.
“Now that we’ve got those formalities out of the way,” she said cheerfully (Mikasa thought she looked as if she thought the whole thing was really funny), “your head boy wanted to make an address too. Armin?”
Armin went from only slightly red to bright tomato red so fast that Mikasa was surprised he didn’t spontaneously combust while he was at it. “Uh…” He glanced at his own table, and then at the girls table as if he was looking for backup, and for a moment, Mikasa considered coming to his aid - except that she had no idea what he wanted to say to begin with. She gave him what she hoped was an encouraging nod.
Armin only swallowed and went rigid instead. “U-um,” he began at last. “Hi. Uh. I’m Armin. In case you didn’t know me already. I mean. You might know me already, b-but, in case you don’t --”
“Get to the point, Armin,” whispered Hange kindly.
“Um,” he managed, in a voice 3 octaves higher than usual. “So - so you’ll notice I gave you some cabin names. They’re uh - ” he flushed even deeper, and Mikasa thought he might have just invented an entirely new shade of red. “They’re the House names from Game of Thrones. While we’re here, all your activities will be with your bunks, but you’ll be paired with a different bunk each day. For - for example, House Reyne and House Lannister will be on the high ropes today - ”
“That seems like a bad idea,” someone murmured, and Armin fidgeted and dropped his cards.
“Um. I mean. Anyway - the point is House Reyne will be paired with a different House tomorrow and so on and so forth. Your cabin leaders have your timetables, so… yeah…” There was a pause. A really awkward one. Armin swallowed. “The - the only ones who won’t be swapping will be the leadership cabins,” he added finally. “And on the last day of camp, I thought - I thought we could have something like an Olympics? Um. Yeah…”
“Anything else?” Hange asked him quietly, and he shook his head furiously and shuffled away.
Hange rolled her eyes a little. “Well then. Finish your breakfast, everyone, you’ve got a big day ahead!”
The noise broke out again. Annie made a face and pushed her toast away from her. “No, thank you.”
“Try the cereal,” said Sasha, offering her her bowl. “It’s delicious - the milk tastes so fresh.”
“That’s correct,” Hange said on her way past. “It’s from the cows on the farm down the road. Hasn’t been treated or anything. We get it fresh from the udder.”
Sasha dropped her spoon and gagged. Mikasa thought she could hear Hange cackling as she exited the mess hall, and for the third time that morning, she groaned. This was going to be the longest 2 weeks of her life.
Given the choice between Untreated Cow’s Milk Fresh From the Udder (“Untreated as in unpasteurized? Is it even legal to serve that?”) and Vegemite (“I hear it’s made from leftover brewer’s yeast. It’s literally beer spread .”) for breakfast, Mikasa honestly would have preferred to just wait until lunch, but the fact that Annie couldn’t handle the Vegemite was the deciding factor on what she ended up having for breakfast that morning. Honestly? It was a really poor way to decide.
She knew this. There were times (like this one) where Mikasa knew that decisions shouldn’t be made based on her obvious dislike for Annie - but there were also days where she just couldn’t resist. Annie was good at a lot of things, and a lot of those things were the same things Mikasa was good at it. The days she could perform better than Annie and then subtly rub it in her face were the days she lived for (petty as it was) - and managing to down two whole pieces of Vegemite toast would have been worth that -
If she didn’t feel like wanted to puke.
Breakfast finished an hour and a half ago. She could still taste in the back of her throat, and if they weren’t walking 3 kilometers into the woods to who knows where, she would have rinsed her mouth out with the rest of the water in her drink bottle. As it was, she had three quarters of her drink bottle left and it had to last until lunch - and given it was only 9 AM and it was already a horrifying 100 degrees, she needed it to last until lunch.
“You okay?”
Mikasa looked up. Eren had caught up to her looking breathless and uncomfortable in the humidity. He shifted his backpack from one shoulder to the other.
“Fine,” said Mikasa, trying not to gag.
“You look sick.”
“I’m not sick.” She took a tiny sip from her water bottle. “That Vegemite shit is disgusting.”
Eren raised an eyebrow at her. “It’s not that bad?”
At that, she actually did gag. “Did I eat the same Vegemite you did or...?”
“Oh.” Eren let out a laugh despite himself. “Reiner had a friend who used to come and stay with them whenever he came to visit from Australia. Used to bring jars of the stuff because it’s really hard to get here. It’s not like… y’know, Nutella. You only put a little bit on. Like the thinnest layer possible. It’s really not bad.”
Mikasa wrinkled her nose at him. “Why would they have it here then?”
“Because it doesn’t go off,” Eren said with a shrug. “At least that’s what Reiner said. It’s basically salt. I mean. This place is at least a couple of hours drive from the closest grocery store - they need stuff that will last, especially in this heat.” He paused. “It’s weird that you didn’t know. Annie came over to our table to complain about it and Reiner made her try some of his. We thought she told your table.”
Scowling, Mikasa glanced around for the closest person to her that was with her at breakfast. “Mina!” she called.
Mina blinked. “Oh,” she said, jogging up to them. “Hey. What’s up?”
“Did Annie tell you how to eat the Vegemite this morning?”
Mina nodded. “It’s actually delicious! I mean, obviously not in huge quantities, but if with butter and even a little cheese, it’s really good!”
“Well, she didn’t tell me, ” said Mikasa savagely, and for the second time that day, Mina squeaked and and hurried forward. “Fuck.”
Eren studied her for a moment. “What’s gotten into you?”
“Nothing.” Mikasa huffed. “Armin… told me yesterday that people were scared of me. Our own friends, even.”
“Well… they are,” said Eren matter-of-factly. “But it’s not a bad thing. They just know that you mean business and you aren’t afraid to do what you need to do. It’s supposed to be a good quality. It means you’re respected.”
She made a face at him and glanced forwards at Mina who was now walking with Armin and Annie. “Not by everyone, apparently,” she grumbled.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Mikasa said nothing.
Eren glanced forwards too. “What, Annie?” he said. “God, Mika, not again. ”
“What do you mean ‘not again’? Besides, Annie didn’t - ”
“You bite her head off every time she tries to talk to you,” snapped Eren. “Don’t think I don’t know about the stupid shit with your bunks last night. We could hear Ymir threatening you all the way from our table. Maybe she would have told you about the stupid Vegemite thing if you hadn’t been such a pain to her last night.”
“Oh, so it’s my fault?” she hissed.
“Is it not? ” demanded Eren. “Jesus, Mika, I love you because you’re my sister and shit, but you’ve sabotaged yourself twice now because of this stupid ass rivalry.”
Mikasa actually stopped in her tracks. “I can’t believe you’re taking her side over this!”
“I’m not siding with anyone, but at least she had the decency to stay away in case you started this again!” Eren scowled at her. “I’m not listening to this today, okay? It’s stupid. Armin and I have both told you that you would get along if you tried, and at least she’s tried to avoid picking fights with you.”
“But - ”
“Nope!” And Eren threw his hands in the air and he jogged forward to bump shoulders with Annie. She must have told him a joke or something because his scowl disappeared and was replaced with a grin so wide, Mikasa couldn’t help but feel a little guilty for putting it there to begin with.
She trudged on alone.
They walked for hours - Hitch and whined and carried on for the entirety of the walk, so even if they weren’t walking for hours, it sure as hell felt like it did - before Rico and Levi broke into a clearing and set down their gear.
“All right, brats,” said Levi. “We’re kicking off with the crate climb.” He motioned to a pile of old wooden crates and two wide rope circles on the ground. “This is easy enough. Split yourselves into two teams - your bunks, or mixed, I don’t care. The objective is easy. You need to build a crate tower 20 crates high in the fastest time. Three people in harnesses putting the crates together, three people belaying, one person retrieving crates. Easy?”
Armin eyed the pulleys hanging off the tree branches looking weary. “Is this safe?”
“It’s as safe as the person belaying you,” deadpanned Rico. “Split yourselves into teams, let’s go.”
They were met with 14 blank stares.
Rico and Levi exchanged glances so meaningful they might as well have just said “Are you fucking kidding me?” out loud. “NOW,” snapped Rico, and Ymir and Marco shuffled out of the middle to form a girls team and a boys team because it seemed like the easiest option. They looked back to their counsellors for what to do next.
“Jesus,” muttered Levi. He glanced at his watch. “You’ve got five minutes to decide who’s belaying, who’s stacking, and who’s retrieving. Your time starts when I say it does. The team that loses washes up after dinner on their own.” He paused. “What are you waiting for?”
Annie - who was so used to divvying work as captain of three out of four sports teams - stepped right in. “Ymir, Hitch and Sasha, you’re belaying. Mina, you get the crates. Mikasa, Historia and I will stack - ”
Mikasa blanched. It wasn’t even because Annie was telling them what to do, it was - and this was not something anyone really knew - stacking crates in something called a ‘crate climb’ meant having to be up pretty high. And Mikasa wasn’t sure she was ready for anyone to find out that she was afraid of heights. The top bunk? That was fine. That was safe . But held in the air by nothing more than a harness? No, thank you. The words flew from her mouth before she had a chance to really think about them. “Who put you in charge?”
Annie groaned. “What now? ”
Mikasa stood her ground, pretending she wasn’t nearly as concerned as she was. “Who put you in charge?” she repeated.
"I don’t see you stepping in,” snapped Annie.
Ymir groaned. “For fuck’s sake!”
“Tyrell!” Levi looked about as done as Ymir. “10 second penalty for Johnson’s language! Time starts now!”
Ymir groaned again and threw her hands in the air in frustration. “This isn’t a grudge match!” she snarled. “Mikasa, what the hell is wrong with Annie’s plan of attack? The three of you are the lightest, and you and she are the fittest!”
“I’m not stacking,” said Mikasa childishly.
Annie snorted. “What, afraid of heights?”
“Fuck you, Leonhardt.”
“20 second penalty for Jaeger’s language, let’s go ladies, get it together!”
Annie snarled and shot a frustrated look at the boys’ tower (already four crates high). “Whatever,” she snapped. “Mina, you’re stacking. Let’s go. Hitch and Sasha, start putting crates together while we get into harnesses. Ymir, you too. Mikasa can retrieve is she’s going to be a brat about it.”
“Excuse you?”
Annie ignored her and started climbing into a harness. By the time she, Historia, and Mina were ready, Sasha and Hitch had managed a solid base of three crates and Ymir was piling a fourth onto the top. “All right,” she grumbled. “Sasha, you’ve got me. Hitch, you’re belaying Mina. Ymir, you’ve got Historia. We’re gonna do this in tiers - so someone has to always be up top, someone has to be in the middle, and someone has to be low, so we can cover more ground with minimum effort.”
“Can - can I be at the bottom?” asked Mina weakly, and Annie nodded.
“Historia?”
Historia eyed the harnesses wearily. “Middle, please,” she said.
“Okay,” said Annie. “Sasha, you’re gonna haul me up first. Ymir, wait til I can’t reach you before you haul up Historia. And Hitch, do the same for Mina. Everybody clear?”
“You got it,” said Sasha with a thumbs up. “Mikasa, grab some crates.”
Mikasa scowled, suddenly feeling a lot left out of this group effort. The other girls weren’t scared of Annie. Annie was in control without being bossy. Annie had a strategy barely a minute into the game. Annie knew what she was doing and Mikasa could do nothing but resent her for it, if only because Annie was already so much better at being a leader than she was - and Annie didn’t even like to lead. Sulking, Mikasa stomped over to the pile, seizing two at a time and tossing them at Sasha’s feet.
“Don’t throw them!” snapped Annie. “You’ll risk knocking it over once it gets taller!”
By the time Ymir was hauling Historia up, they were actually ahead of the boys - they could hear Armin’s attempts at keeping his group from panicking when their tower partially collapsed. Rico actually sounded impressed.
“Keep it up, ladies, you might still win this with your penalties in place!”
Everything was going pretty well, and Mikasa was torn between feeling better because they were winning and feeling worse because Annie’s plan was being executed so well. She tossed crate after crate at their feet, until Mina, who was hanging gently by her harness, accidentally nudged the bottom of their tower. It wobbled dangerously, and Annie clung to the top crate with a yelp.
“Sasha, give me some tension!” she cried. “Mina and Historia, hold it steady. Hold it…”
But Mikasa was already in mid throw. The crate made contact with Sasha’s shin, who let out a pained cry and bumped into Ymir. Ymir’s grip went slack, and Historia fell about a foot before Ymir caught her again - but the sudden tension had Historia swinging just enough to nudge their tower just that little bit more -
Mikasa saw it collapse in slow motion, and the boys roared in triumph as Eren placed their 20th crate on the top of their tower.
“Time!” called Levi. “Baratheon wins!”
“Bad luck, ladies,” said Rico, as Sasha, Ymir and Hitch let the others down slowly. “You were doing really well but, sometimes, bad things happen. Good teamwork, regardless.”
“Teamwork, my foot,” grumbled Annie when she touched the ground. “I saw that,” she snapped at Mikasa. “What the hell is your problem?”
“My problem?” snarled Mikasa. “ What problem? I didn’t do anything wrong!”
“Not again,” groaned Hitch. “Do you two even know how not to yell at each other?”
They ignored her. “You threw that crate at Sasha!” snapped Annie.
“Oh, like I intended to hit her,” said Mikasa savagely.
“Intention isn’t the issue,” growled Annie, jabbing a finger into Mikasa’s chest. “I told you not to throw them! You know what retrieving means? Actually going to get things and bringing them back, not tossing them at your teammates like a child throwing a tantrum!”
“I’m the child, am I?” Mikasa jabbed her back. “ I’m not the one throwing a tantrum about losing!”
“Annie - ” said Sasha weakly. “Calm down, she didn’t mean to -”
“You were being careless!” said Annie. “And it cost us a win!”
“Who gives a shit, it’s a game! Quit being a sore loser!”
“Except that losing this game because of your carelessness means the entire team has to clean up after dinner!” Annie scowled at her. “All because you had to throw a hissy fit at the idea of someone else being in charge!”
“THAT’S ENOUGH.” Rico had stepped between them and she glared at them both like she was ready to send them both home. “Commander Shadis just told you that fighting isn’t tolerated at this camp!” she growled. “Stop acting like children. If the two of so much as yell at each other in my presence again, I will have the Commander send you both home, am I clear?”
“She started it!”
“It’s not even my fault this time!”
“AM I CLEAR?” roared Rico, and both girls snapped their mouths shut and looked away.
Mikasa hadn’t even realized how much of a scene they’d caused. The boys were watching as well. Eren shook his head at the both of them and muttered something to Armin who sighed and shook his head too. Guilt settled in the pit of her stomach. “Sorry,” she mumbled - more to them, than to Rico or Annie.
“Same,” grumbled Annie, and Mikasa had a suspicion she was doing the same.
A couple of counsellors appeared in the clearing with a box of juice boxes and sandwiches, and the tension over everyone else dissipated immediately. Rico was still glaring at them. “You two can wait until everyone else has their food,” she said. “And you’ll do the same at dinner time. Understood?”
“Yes, ma’am,” they mumbled.
Rico let out a gruff sigh. “I can’t believe I quit CostCo for this.”
Mikasa spent the rest of the day actively avoiding Annie, and it was obvious to everyone that Annie was doing the same. What was annoying was that Annie chose to spend her time avoiding Mikasa with Eren, which, in normal circumstances, might have been grounds for another fight, but Mikasa thought of her captaincy and of the way Eren had taken Annie’s side before. She held her tongue.
They’d hiked to the other side of the camp grounds for a bridge building activity (in which they allowed Sasha to call the shots, and were pleasantly surprised that they won over Armin’s genius) before they marched back to camp for some free time before dinner. Armin was sitting on the steps of the Cabin 1 with a book in his lap when Mikasa found him.
“Hey,” she greeted tiredly.
Armin glanced up at her and set his book down. “Hey,” he said, shuffling over.
“Sorry about earlier,” she mumbled, dropping next to him.
“I don’t think I’m the one you should be apologizing to.” He nodded at a couple of people sitting on the railing of the mess hall.
Mikasa squinted at them and saw bright blonde hair and a mess of brown, and she scowled. “Why does he like her so much?” she asked vaguely. “When he’s not with us, he’s with her. And when she’s not alone, she’s with him. Why is that?”
Armin snorted and sipped at his water bottle. “They’re friends?” he offered with a shrug. “You do know Annie’s not as much of a lone wolf as she pretends to be, don’t you?”
Mikasa tore her eyes away from Eren and Annie’s backs and blinked at Armin. “What do you mean?”
“She likes her time alone, but she’s friends with almost everyone. She’s good at what she does. She hasn’t ever lost a game that she’s captained. Everyone likes her but you. Why is that? ”
“Well, she hates me for one,” said Mikasa with a huff.
Armin snorted again. “No she doesn’t,” he said. “If anything, she just avoids you because she knows you dislike her. You go out of your way to find reasons to fight her - like today.” He paused. “Everyone saw it happen, you know? Everyone saw how she stepped up because no one else would - not even you - and you tore her head off for it. How come?”
Mikasa paused. “She wanted me to climb the crates,” she mumbled, pulling her knees up to her chin.
“So?” asked Armin. “I know you’re afraid of heights, but was there really a reason you couldn’t just tell her that?”
“What, and have everyone else find out too?”
“There’s a high ropes course on this camp, Mikasa,” said Armin. “They’re gonna find out sooner or later. The whole point of this is to get to know each other better, and that includes the fact that you’re afraid of heights.”
Mikasa grumbled something about “Showing weakness” under her breath, but Armin just ignored her.
“What about the crates?” he asked. “Was there a reason you couldn’t walk them over instead of throwing them?”
Again, she said nothing. What was there to say, really? Armin knew her as well as Eren and he would see through any lame excuses she had to give.
“I’m not saying that she didn’t do anything wrong, Mika,” he told her. “Just. You’re supposed to be leaders. We all are. We have enough problems on our own without you two constantly being at each other’s throats.” He patted her knee and, in the distance, the dinner bell began to chime. “Come on,” he said, helping her up. “You’ll probably feel better after dinner. I heard something about House Greyjoy making burgers.”
Burgers were correct, and those burgers were delicious. Mikasa didn’t know what she was expecting exactly, but when Sasha came back with a burger the size of her face with a side of salad and battered chips, her stomach growled so loudly she was sure Ymir heard it on the other side of the table. She couldn’t help but resent Annie (and herself, but mostly Annie) for the earlier argument because it meant that all 150 students would get food before them and after a day of having nothing to eat but Vegemite toast and corned beef sandwiches, she was starving.
When she and Annie finally did get their meals, they ate in silence. Mikasa had a sneaking suspicion that Annie’s conversation with Eren was much the same as her own with Armin, and they spent dinner looking at everything but each other while everyone chattered noisily around them about the day’s adventures. A lot of it was complaining about sore muscles and sunburn; but, surprisingly, a lot of it sounded like fun.
Hannah Stewart of House Tully came to visit Mina at the leadership table, babbling excitedly about kayaking and the eels in the lake. Her boyfriend, Hans, in House Reyne was regaling everyone on how his harness nearly broke on something called ‘the Leap of Faith’. Admittedly, Mikasa was glad everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves - but she cast a furtive glance at Annie and huffed.
When everybody had eaten and the plates were piled high, the entirety of the girls’ leadership table groaned and trudged into the cramped kitchen to wash up. The surprising part was that it all went pretty well -
Until Annie slipped on the surface Mikasa had just mopped and smashed twenty odd plates.
A stream of curses flew from Annie’s mouth - some so vulgar that Historia actually covered her ears. Then she rounded on Mikasa. “Why didn’t you say anything?!” she snarled.
No. Nope. She was not getting blamed for this too. “Why didn’t you go around?” snapped Mikasa. “You knew I’d just mopped here - ”
“I obviously didn’t or I would have broken 20 plates!” rorared Annie. “Jesus, all you had to do was warn me!”
“All you had to do was watch your damn step, don’t pin this on me!”
“Oh, watch my step around a pile plates taller than me, because warning someone that the floor was still wet was so much to ask for! ”
“LEONHARDT. JAEGER.”
They blanched. Rico was standing in the doorway. She took one look at the pile of broken dishes, and then Mikasa and Annie, and then back again before she let out a long, frustrated sigh. “That’s it,” she hissed. “I’m done babysitting the two of you. Shadis’ office. Go.”
“But -”
“NOW.”
There was no reasoning with her. She snatched furiously at the broom leaning against the wall and shoved the two of them out of the kitchen. “I don’t want to see either of you again unless you’re back at the cabin packing your stuff. If, for some reason, Shadis lets you stay ,I will kick you out of here myself if this happens again. GO.”
Neither of them said anything when Rico slammed the door in their faces.
Nor did they say anything on the way to Shadis’ office.
Nor when he opened the door glowering at them like an angry bull.
“I’ve heard about you two,” he grumbled. “I’m disgusted. Embarrassed, even, that two young girls like yourselves would be so petty.”
Mikasa said nothing still. She could feel her face warming in shame as she felt her captaincy slip through her fingers. So much for being able to put ‘Head Girl’ on her college applications. So much for being able to control Eren. She could already see the disappointment on Dr. Jaeger’s face. She hung her head.
“You were told,” he said, “that fighting was not tolerated here.”
“Yes, sir,” they mumbled.
He handed Annie the phone. “Call your parents, Leonhardt. You will inform them of your behaviour and that you are to be collected from school at 1800 tomorrow.”
Annie said nothing. Her hands shook as she took the phone and dialed her number - and when her father picked up, Mikasa found herself feeling physically ill, because Annie had barely even opened her mouth when -
“ What happened this time? You know what? I don’t even want to hear it, Anastasia! I told you I’ve had enough of you picking fights with classmates. This is the final straw. If they’re sending you home, you will be grounded for the rest of the summer, and I will not be funding any more of your extracurriculars. You hear me? Sports Captain be damned - you won’t be competing in anything anymore!”
And Annie just… took it.
Mikasa had never seen her so vulnerable, nor had she ever taken any sort of verbal abuse lying down - not from her, not from teachers - not from anyone. Except now. She hung her head low and shrunk into herself, and suddenly Mikasa remembered how she’d disappeared for weeks after Eren broke his arm.
She felt sick.
She snatched the phone from her.
“Uh. Hi. Mr. Leonhardt?” she said. “Sorry to bother you. My name’s Mikasa. I’m a friend of Annie’s from school. I just wanted to tell you that this whole thing was a misunderstanding. She didn’t do anything wrong. We were just…” She looked over at Shadis, who said nothing and just raised an eyebrow. “We were just making a courtesy call, y’know? No need to get worried or worked up. Everything’s fine! It was nice to talk to you.” And then she hung up.
Shadis was staring at her.
Annie was staring at her.
She coughed. “We’re sorry, Commander Shadis, sir,” she said, throwing in a bow for good measure. “Most of it… was my fault. Please excuse us just this once. Nothing of the sort will happen again.”
Mikasa wasn’t sure if he was lying about being unforgiving, or if he was just really surprised - perhaps both - but he nodded. “It better not. Let this be a warning to both of you. If I hear Rico complain about another fight, I will find you myself and send you home, is that understood?”
“Yes, sir,” said Mikasa.
“Dismissed.”
Mikasa didn’t wait to be told twice. Annie was still staring at her like she’d grown two heads, so she seized her wrist and nearly dragged her from the office. “Don’t,” she said. “Seriously. Don’t. I’m sorry. I didn’t realize… when Eren broke his arm… I just thought...”
“It’s… fine? I guess?” said Annie at last. “I - ”
“Seriously.” Mikasa squeezed her wrist. “Don’t. I’m sorry. Just. It’ll be weird. Call it a truce?”
Annie blinked, obviously still caught off guard. “Uh. Sure.” She shook Mikasa’s hand. “A truce.”