Chapter Text
The day of the party arrived earlier than you anticipated. You had spent the last few hours (that was a lie, you had spent many, many hours contemplating) whether going to that party with Jean and Mikasa was a good idea.
On the one hand, not going would indicate nothing was amiss to Jean- that is, if you came up with a viable reason not to go. Mikasa, however, was the one who had extended the invitation to you originally. Mikasa was far from incompetent- she knew that it had been awkward between you and her since the start of her and Jean's relationship. If you blew off her invitation, that was basically girl code for hating a bitch. And you didn't hate Mikasa. Not a bit. She was clearly a good candidate for Jean- she was adamant when she needed to be, a bit more serious, but very loyal to those she chose to surround herself with. These qualities were not that present in Jean. He was brooding, loud, and blunt when it came to simple conversations. When he felt he wasn't being heard, he was very boisterous. He would start a fight without question if it came to someone insulting him, but Mikasa would finish one in a heartbeat. They were opposites in many things- something Jean needed. He needed someone to keep him grounded.
There was no question Mikasa could do that for him. He was already willing to improve himself for her.
These thoughts, as much as it should ease you that Jean had someone, only twisted the knife in your heart. You knew you couldn't get in the way of anything; even deeper, you knew that if it came down to you not willing to accept their relationship, it would be you leaving the curb, not Mikasa. You wanted to be there for Jean for the rest of his life- even if it meant you not having some aspects of your own life fulfilled.
In an attempt to gather your thoughts regarding the party situation, you barely register the chiming of your phone as a text came in. For a moment, your apprehension got the better of you since you had automatically assumed it was Jean, but when you finally gathered the courage to grab it to see the notification, surprise lit its way into the growing chasm of your heart.
Mikasa.
‘Hey, I was just checking in to see how you were feeling. I know Jean had mentioned your cycles can be a bit rough, so just wanted to make sure you didn’t need another emergency bag before the party. Have you thought about going with us tonight?’
You opened your phone, seeing that Mikasa had the three dots pop up, indicating she was still typing a response. Your eyebrows furrowed; it wasn’t typical of Mikasa to have messaged you without Jean messaging you on her behalf. You felt a bit conflicted, wondering whether if Jean had indeed had a conversation with her in an attempt to increase a bond between the two of you. Sure, you were Jean’s best friend, and she was essentially the person he would ultimately replace you with as it was typical of partners to put themselves higher than that of their friends. Nothing wrong with it, but you did partially wish the relationship between you, Jean, and Mikasa involved one of equilibrium despite their romantic involvement.
The bubble disappeared after a moment but there was not another response. Based on what you knew of Jean, he definitely had had a talk with Mikasa in an attempt to make a bond with you. Perhaps he wasn’t as blind to your emotions of feeling left out as you thought he was.
You begin to type a reply, only to once again be taken out of your stupor by the sound of your roommate’s chortled laughter.
“Are you going to sit there and daydream while mulling things over about you and Jean?” You turned to see ice-blue eyes piercing into your own. “You’ve been staring at the phone attempting to make sense of his reply for five minutes.”
“Actually, Jean didn’t message. Mikasa did.” Annie raised an eyebrow, her expression lackluster. As the girlfriend of Mikasa’s own friend, Armin, Annie had had her fair share of complaints about Mikasa, including her ferocity in a desire to protect Armin and Eren in whatever way possible. Annie never understood the need for Mikasa to be protective over the both of them, especially considering Mikasa had ended the relationship she had with Eren to pursue one with Jean not even a year later.
Even if their relationship had ended, the occasional arguments Annie and Mikasa found themselves in over Annie and Armin’s relationship had been one you yourself would not tread with Armin or Jean. While you would let Annie vent since she was your roommate and close friend, you were too closely involved with both parties to not come out losing if you picked a side, Mikasa or Annie. While that was something you and Jean never discussed (Mikasa’s involvement with Eren and him still being involved in her life despite their breakup) you knew that was a sore subject in Jean’s insecurities, especially since Eren had been Jean’s roommate before he had even met Mikasa officially.
You didn’t know necessarily the reason Mikasa and Eren’s relationship had ended, nor did you want to pry as you yourself had last relationships you were still actively friends with. Based on what Annie had gathered from Armin, however, the tension in Mikasa and Eren’s relationship had increased tenfold after Eren and her’s overheard argument regarding her being “too much, too close, all the time” at the freshman college party a few semesters ago caused half the campus to spread rumors. After this, her and Eren separated indefinitely where Jean had then reached out to Mikasa in hopes to comfort her as a friend, seeing as he himself had some understanding of Eren’s motives as he was Eren’s roommate.
“What did she want? It isn’t like her to message you first without requesting Jean to talk to you on her behalf.” That had been another issue that had been arising - Jean speaking with you about issues that he had never really addressed with you such as you spending the night or staying over at his place until early morning. When you addressed this topic with him and raised the concern back to him that he was bringing up something that had always been a thing in their friendship, it was his flustered and defensive response that caused you to understand the causality - Mikasa. She was great, and you understood that, based on what you had heard from Annie about her protectiveness, she was attempting to do what she could to protect her relationship with Jean without approaching you herself as she would in the past (just as she did with Annie).
“Just messaged me about the party and asked if I needed another bag she gave me when I started my period.”
Annie rolls her eyes. “Tell her to fucking stay out of your and my business. Your friendship isn’t threatening her relationship with Horsefa-, I mean Jean-Bo.” Your narrowed eyes had stopped her from saying the crude nickname Eren had created for Jean during their dorm days. You knew Jean hated it and, somehow, it stuck among your friend group still since yours and Mikasa’s friends overlapped.
“Did you decide if you were going with Armin tonight, by the way?” Annie’s hum of approval in the shift of conversation indicated she in fact would be. She turned to you as she reached for her hoodie lying on the top of her bed. “Have you decided if you were going? You don’t have to third wheel with them, you know. Connie and Sasha are going without their dates. And Armin and I always love to observe the eventual dumb shit Reiner, Porco, and Jean are going to do when the drinking begins.”
You shook your head. “I’m not planning on going. Much rather would finish the last of the chocolate from the period bag while finishing up the last season of ‘Military Police.’”
Annie groans, “You’re still on that shit? I was finished with that season months ago.”
You ended up staring at your closet for longer than you’d admit.
Annie had already left an hour ago, hollering something about making out with Armin behind a shrub before people got too drunk to care. Typical. You almost envied her ability to be so shamelessly in love. But mostly, you just envied how easy it looked.
You held up one outfit after the next, rejecting each on principle alone. Too casual. Too boring. Too much. Too little. In the end, you settled on a dress you’d forgotten you owned: black satin, thin straps, hugged your waist like it had missed you. It wasn’t overly fancy, but it had presence—the kind that whispered confidence rather than screamed for attention. You slipped it on and glanced in the mirror, adding a touch of liner and gloss. It wasn’t for Jean. It wasn’t for Mikasa. It was for you.
At least, that’s what you told yourself.
By the time you reached the party, it was already in full swing. Laughter poured from the open windows, the bass rattled your chest, and the air smelled of spilled liquor and secondhand smoke. As you walked in, the lighting from the porch cast you in a warm glow, and for the first time that night, you didn’t feel like just someone’s backup plan.
Mikasa saw you first. She was near the kitchen, holding a solo cup and laughing with Hitch and Mina. She blinked, then smiled softly—almost gratefully—and made her way toward you.
“You came,” she said. Her voice was sincere.
You nodded. “Thanks for the check-in earlier. I’m good now.”
“I’m glad,” she replied, her gaze dropping briefly to your dress before returning to your face. “You look really nice.”
You didn’t miss the surprise in her tone, but she wasn’t condescending. If anything, she sounded impressed.
“Thanks.” You cleared your throat. “So do you.”
Then came Jean.
He materialized beside Mikasa, drink in hand, eyes flickering to you with something unreadable. For a second, he didn’t say anything. Just looked. Not at your face.
At your waist. Your chest. Your legs.
The tension was sharp enough to sting.
“You’re being… a lot,” he muttered. His jaw clenched.
Mikasa’s brows drew together. “Jean.”
He didn’t look at her. Just stared you down, his voice low. “I mean, it’s fine. Just—next time, maybe… I don’t know. Not this.”
You felt your throat tighten, but you gave him a smirk anyway. “Didn’t realize there was a dress code.”
“There isn’t,” Mikasa cut in, tone curt now. “You look amazing.”
That shut him up. Or maybe it was the way you stopped looking at him like he mattered. You turned and disappeared into the crowd before either of them could say anything else.
You spent the next couple of hours surrounded by warmth. Connie and Sasha were already halfway drunk, arguing over who could shotgun a beer faster while Pieck tried to coach them with lazy grace from the couch. Porco was in rare form, losing every round of strip poker and still trash-talking like he wasn’t in his boxers.
Annie stuck close for a while, lounging at your side, occasionally mouthing “you’re so hot tonight” just to make you snort into your drink. It was loud. Carefree. A little ridiculous. Exactly what you needed.
And then, across the room, you saw him.
Eren.
Leaning against the wall with a half-empty cup, staring blankly at the floor, unmoved by the chaos around him. Alone.
The rest of the world blurred. Maybe it was the liquor. Maybe it was the ache in your chest you’d been burying for months. But your legs moved before your mind could stop them.
“Hey,” you said.
He looked up slowly. “Hey.”
You slid down beside him on the couch. “This your party?”
“Technically,” he said, smirking faintly. “But I wasn’t exactly in the mood to host.”
You nodded, sipping from your drink. “I wasn’t in the mood to come.”
“And yet, here we are.”
For a moment, neither of you spoke. Then, Eren tilted his head, observing you.
“You still love him,” he said plainly.
You didn’t deny it. Just looked at the way the lights flickered on the rim of your glass.
He sighed. “I still love her.”
Your head turned.
“She was too much,” he said quietly. “Too intense. Too focused on everyone but herself. I didn’t know how to handle that. But the silence now? The way she looks at someone else with all that intensity? That’s worse.”
You swallowed hard. “I know what you mean.”
“You’re still in it,” he continued. “Even when he’s not yours. That’s the worst kind of pain, isn’t it? Being the friend. Watching from the side. Pretending like you’re happy because they’re happy.”
Your lip trembled before you pressed it back into place. “Their happiness should be enough.”
Eren’s gaze was steady. “Not if the life you envision for yourself involves him in your hand.”
Your breath caught.
You glanced at him. Slowly, carefully, you reached for his hand. He didn’t hesitate. Fingers laced, warm and familiar. When your eyes met his, the understanding there made your chest tighten.
“Why don’t we be broken,” you whispered, “together?”
You leaned in.
But before your lips could meet, you heard the impact before you registered the scream.
CRACK.
Eren’s head snapped sideways.
Jean.
His fist was still clenched, knuckles red, chest heaving with rage as Eren stumbled back onto the couch. You froze, still holding Eren’s hand, as Mikasa’s voice rang out—panicked, sharp—but it was Jean’s glare that pinned you in place.
“What the fuck are you doing?” he growled, voice shaking.
You stared back at him, heart hammering.
“Something you never had the courage to do,” you answered.
And you didn’t let go of Eren’s hand.
“Are you insane?” Jean’s voice cracked as he stormed down the hallway after you, dragging you away from the living room chaos and toward the back deck.
The music was muffled behind the closed door. Just the two of you now. The moment you dreaded—and part of you wanted—had finally come.
You folded your arms tightly across your chest. “Don’t you dare yell at me in the middle of someone else’s house like I’m the one who started this.”
Jean stepped closer, his expression a mix of fury and disbelief. “You kissed Eren. Mikasa’s ex. At a party. In front of everyone.”
You rolled your eyes, exhausted. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize I needed your permission.”
Jean’s jaw clenched. “It’s not about permission. It’s about respect.”
“No, Jean. You don’t get to lecture me on respect,” you snapped, stepping toward him now. “Not when you’ve been keeping me on the back burner for years. Not when you got with your roommate’s ex and didn’t think twice about it.”
His face flushed. “That’s different. Mikasa and Eren were—”
“—best friends since they were kids,” you cut in. “And now you’re dating her. You want to talk about betrayal? Why don’t you start with your own relationship history.”
“That’s not the same and you know it,” he growled. “You—god—do you even realize what it looked like? You in that dress, sitting with him—you were flirting.”
“You mean, I was having a conversation? You know, with someone who actually listens to me? Who doesn’t look at me like I’m a problem to solve?”
Jean looked like you’d slapped him.
“You’re just jealous,” you said quietly. “You don’t want me, Jean. You just don’t want anyone else to have me.”
“That’s not—” he exhaled harshly, stepping away from you like he didn’t trust himself. “I care about you. I’ve always—”
“Then why does it only show up when I’m talking to someone else?”
Jean didn’t answer.
“You want to know if I slept with him?” you demanded, voice rising now. “Let’s cut to the part you really care about. Did I fuck your girlfriend’s ex, is that it?”
His face hardened. “Did you?”
You stared at him in disbelief. “Wow. You really think I’m capable of that?”
“You tell me!” he shouted. “You’ve been distant for months, pulling away from everyone—especially me. And now you’re out here holding hands and whispering secrets with Eren like—like—”
“Like I’m allowed to hang out with who I want?” you fired back. “God, Jean, you don’t get to decide who I talk to. Just like I don’t get to tell you who to get involved with. You made your choice when you chose her. Remember?”
Silence fell. The only sound was the bass thumping faintly through the wall.
“And for your information,” you continued, voice cold now, slicing. “I wouldn’t do that to Mikasa. Unlike you, I know how to keep my hands off an ex.”
Jean flinched. Visibly. His mouth opened, but nothing came out.
You pressed the heel of your palm to your forehead, pushing back the fog of tears. “If you’re so worried about how this affects her, maybe go comfort her. She’s the one whose ex just got punched at her own party. She’s your girlfriend, Jean. Not your referee.”
His eyes flicked past you for just a second—to the house, to the shadows behind the glass door. And you knew.
Mikasa had heard.
You turned your head slightly. She stood inside, just behind the window, half-hidden by the curtain. Her eyes locked on yours. You couldn’t read her expression—whether it was betrayal or confusion or pain. Probably all three.
Jean took a shaky breath, his voice hoarse. “I didn’t mean to…”
But you didn’t want to hear it.
Jean looked between you and the door. Then at you. Then back to the door.
And then he left.
Stormed past you without another word, yanked open the sliding glass door, and disappeared inside. Mikasa followed him, after one lingering glance in your direction that you couldn’t bear to return.
You were alone again. Not broken like Eren. Not bold like Annie. Not content like Armin or Sasha.
Just… alone.
You sat on the edge of the deck, heart pounding and hands trembling.
Behind you, the party roared back to life.
You didn’t expect a knock on the door.
Not the next morning, not ever. You were still in last night’s clothes—black satin wrinkled from a fitful sleep on the couch, eyeliner smudged, head pounding with guilt and sugar-sweet regret. The bottle of wine Annie had hidden in the freezer was uncorked and half gone on the coffee table.
You moved slowly to the door, still half-convinced it was Armin bringing Annie breakfast or Connie making jokes too early in the day.
It wasn’t.
Mikasa stood in the hallway, her hair braided back neatly, dark eyes tired but alert.
You froze.
Neither of you said anything.
She held up a familiar paper bag, a little wrinkled at the corners.
“The emergency chocolate bag,” she said softly.
You opened the door wider without a word.
She stepped inside, silent. Her gaze drifted over the empty glasses on the counter, the tangled blanket on the couch, the wine bottle—and then, finally, to you.
“I’m not here to fight,” she said. “I just… couldn’t go home yet.”
You nodded and sat on the armrest of the couch, bag in your lap. She settled across from you, hands folded together like she was praying. Maybe she was.
“I should’ve told Jean a long time ago,” she said slowly. “That it wasn’t just friendship with Eren. That when we broke up, it didn’t stop. Not really.”
You let the words hang in the air.
“I mean, it ended, sure. But not the…whatever was left. The feelings.”
You finally spoke. “Why did it end?”
Mikasa inhaled. “He said I made him feel trapped. That I was too close. Too loyal.” She gave a faint, bitter smile. “Too Mikasa.”
“I’m sorry,” you murmured.
She looked at you now, directly. “I loved him so much I forgot who I was without him. Jean… Jean helped me find parts of myself I buried. He made me laugh. He made me feel like I didn’t need to be everything for everyone else.”
You didn’t say it, but you knew the feeling too well.
“I don’t regret being with him,” she added. “But I think part of me… part of me still wishes it had worked out with Eren.”
There was silence. Thick and heavy like fog.
“I don’t regret almost kissing him,” you whispered, voice raw. “But I didn’t do it to hurt you.”
Mikasa’s throat bobbed. “I know.”
You looked down at the bag in your hands. “I love Jean,” you confessed.
It hurt to say out loud.
“I know,” she echoed.
“I’ve loved him since before you ever got together,” you added, voice breaking. “And I tried to be okay with it. I tried to be the good friend. The chill friend. But last night, when he looked at me like I was something dirty just for talking to someone else—after everything—I just… I snapped.”
“I saw,” Mikasa said quietly.
You flinched. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.” She shook her head, jaw tightening. “He shouldn’t have said those things to you. He shouldn’t have hit Eren.”
Her voice was firmer now. Not angry—just clear.
“I don’t want to be the girl who makes people walk on eggshells,” Mikasa continued. “I don’t want you to think I’m trying to claim ownership over either of them. Eren… Jean… they’ve always had this rivalry. But it’s not about me. And I’m tired of pretending it is.”
You blinked fast. “Then what now?”
Mikasa sighed. “I think… I need to talk to Eren. And Jean needs to figure out if he’s in love with me or just afraid of losing.”
You swallowed hard.
“I’m not mad at you,” she added gently. “But I think you need to figure out what you want, too. Not what hurts least. Not what’s easiest. What’s honest.”
The words hit harder than expected. They cracked something inside you.
You stared at the half-melted chocolate in your lap. “I want to be enough for someone. That’s it. That’s all.”
Mikasa’s voice dropped. “Then don’t let anyone—not Eren, not Jean, not me—make you feel like you’re not.”
Tears burned in your eyes. But you smiled.
She stood to leave, and you rose too.
At the door, she paused. “And for what it’s worth… you looked stunning last night.”
You laughed through your tears. “So did you.”
She gave a nod, then left you standing in the doorway—heart aching, but finally, finally clear.
She texted him early.
Are you home?
His reply came in minutes.
Yeah.
Mikasa didn’t wait long. She showed up to his apartment in a hoodie and jeans, hair tied in a low knot, no armor or attitude — just Mikasa. As she stepped inside, Jean looked like a house partially collapsed. Still standing. But visibly cracked.
He didn’t say anything at first.
She spoke for both of them.
“You hurt her last night.”
Jean’s brow tightened. “I didn’t hit her.”
“No,” she said softly. “But you punished her. For wanting to feel wanted.”
He looked away.
“You accused her of something she didn’t do, and even if she had…” Mikasa’s voice faltered, then returned, stronger, “…you don’t own her. She’s your best friend. Not your possession.”
“She kissed Eren.”
“She almost kissed Eren,” Mikasa corrected. “And you know what I saw in her face before she leaned in?”
Jean didn’t answer.
“I saw someone who was finally being looked at like she mattered.”
Jean winced. “That’s not fair.”
“Isn’t it?” Mikasa whispered. “You want the truth, Jean? You didn’t start falling for me because I was right for you. You started falling because I wasn’t her. Because I was new, and calm, and didn’t come with years of messy emotions you were afraid to unpack.”
His shoulders sagged. “I never meant to hurt either of you.”
“But you did.” Mikasa sat on the edge of his couch, elbows on her knees. “And I’m not saying you’re a bad person. I’m saying we became bad for each other.”
Jean didn’t move, didn’t breathe.
She continued, gentler this time. “You’ve always had this fire in you. But with me, it burns out fast. You push harder, louder. Because I don’t crack the way she does.”
Jean blinked. “So you’re saying you want me to be with her?”
Mikasa looked at him for a long time. “I’m saying I want you to figure out who you are when you’re not trying to own or impress anyone. I want to be your friend again. Someday. But not like this.”
“And her?” he asked. “You still trust her?”
“I never stopped,” Mikasa said. “But I think I made her feel like she had to step out of the picture just to be respectful of us. And that’s not fair.”
Jean was quiet for a long time.
Finally, he said, “You’re leaving, aren’t you?”
“I already did,” Mikasa said, standing. “Now you just have to notice.”
Later that evening, Mikasa found herself at another door. The last one she had strength left to knock on.
Eren answered shirtless again, a fading bruise on his jaw, ice pressed against it. He blinked. “You came to punch me too?”
“No,” Mikasa said flatly, stepping inside. “You already did that to yourself.”
He said nothing as she walked in, leaning against the kitchen counter like it was neutral territory.
“I need to say things to you I never said before,” she said.
Eren lowered the ice pack. “Alright.”
“I wasn’t easy to love,” she began, eyes fixed on a crack in the tile floor. “But I was loyal. And maybe too much, maybe too intense — but I gave you everything I had. And it was never enough.”
Eren’s expression was unreadable. “It wasn’t about enough. It was about… being scared.”
“Of what?” she asked. “Of me loving you more than you loved me?”
He flinched. “Yeah. Maybe.”
She nodded. “You told me I was too close. So I backed away. You wanted distance, and I gave you miles. And then Jean filled the space.”
“Did you love him?”
“I wanted to,” she said. “But not like I loved you. Not like I hated you sometimes. Not like I missed you even when you were right next to me.”
Eren swallowed.
Mikasa stepped closer. “I saw you last night with her. And I didn’t feel angry. I felt… relieved. Because maybe now someone understands what it’s like to love people who don’t love you the way you need.”
Eren blinked. “You think I love her?”
“I think you see yourself in her,” Mikasa said. “And I think she saw herself in you.”
Silence settled between them again. This time not harsh—just honest.
“I’m not here to start something again,” Mikasa said. “I’m here to end what’s still lingering.”
Eren nodded slowly. “So this is it?”
“This is me choosing myself,” she replied. “Not you. Not Jean. Not pain disguised as love.”
His voice was barely audible. “And her?”
“I want her in my life,” Mikasa said. “Because she was always more honest than we ever were. She tried to keep the peace. To stay out of the way. She shouldn’t have had to.”
Eren leaned against the table, processing.
“I hope you figure yourself out, Eren,” Mikasa said at the door. “I hope we both do.”
He nodded. “You’re still…”
“Still Mikasa,” she finished for him. “Always will be.”
Then she left.
And this time, she smiled to herself on the way out—not because she won.
But because she finally walked away for the right reasons.
Something you may have to do as well.