Chapter Text
"See you later, Eren."
A white light blinded her, and Mikasa cringed, shielding her eyes. She went to grab her sword, ready to finish the job and complete her mission even though her heart felt like it was ripping in two- only for her hand to touch air. Mikasa started, forcing her eyes open and ready to act only to find herself somewhere she hadn't been in a long time.
"Oh, Mikasa."
She flinched, whirling around on her cot- her cot?- to meet kind blue eyes and a gentle smile. Historia.
Mikasa blinked, her surroundings bleeding into focus. Her gaze met a very familiar room, one that she hadn't seen in over four years. She didn't speak, whatever she wanted to say dying in her throat.
What was going on? Had she been knocked out and brought here to heal? But nothing hurt. And even if she had, they had been far from Paradis. There was also a good chance that the Rumbling had crushed the Training Corps. It would have made no sense for her to be here.
And yet she was.
Historia continued to smile, unperturbed by her silence and ignorant to her internal conflict. "Oh, are you going to cut your hair?" she asked sweetly. "That's a shame; your hair is beautiful! But I guess it might get in the way..."
Mikasa blinked. "My... hair?"
A scoff from across the room. "Just because that loud-mouthed brat told you to, doesn't mean you have to, you know," snarked none other than Ymir.
Ymir? But Ymir was dead. She had run off with Reiner and Bertholdt years ago and been consumed by Porco Galliard, who had then been eaten by Falco Grice, the current Jaw Titan. How was she here? Had Marley figured out a way to transfer Titans without consumption? And if they had, what was Ymir doing here?
What was she doing here?
"Ymir," scolded Historia. "Mikasa can do what she wants to with her hair." She turned back to Mikasa and smiled again. It was almost unnerving; she hadn't seen Historia smile like that since she was-
Krista Lenz. The scissors Mikasa hadn't been aware she was holding clattered onto the floor.
Historia, startled, looked at her in alarm. "Is everything alright?" she asked.
Mikasa didn't answer her for a long time. Had she traveled back in time? How was that possible? Had Eren done this using Ymir Fritz? Was it a hallucination like their life together in Switzerland? How could she even know this was real?
"Krista," said Mikasa carefully, testing the name out on her tongue. It felt wrong after all those years since the woman had become Queen.
Historia still seemed bewildered but didn't react to her old name. "Yes?"
Mikasa turned to face her fully. "What year is it?"
The smaller girl looked at her as if she had grown another head. "847," she answered carefully. "Mikasa, are you feeling alright?"
She swallowed. "Fine," she murmured, turning away. "Just fine."