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The world had gone to shit.
He didn’t know what was happening. One minute he had been dreaming of a plain of gold somewhere and the next thing he knew, he woke only to find that the whole entire goddamn world had gone to shit.
He didn’t know how this came to be. No one had the time to brief him on the situation in the midst of all the chaos.
“Captain.”
He looked down at the mention of his title, allowing himself to inwardly winch at the red seeping in her uniform, at how much bigger the stain was than he remembered it to be when he last turned away to assess their surroundings. And yet, Mikasa was smiling at him as if all was right in the world and half of her guts wasn’t spilling out onto his pants.
“I’m really tired. Can I...nap for a bit?”
He wasn’t stupid. He knew she wasn’t just asking to nap for a few minutes. She was asking for his permission to take a long nap, one she had no intention of waking up from.
Why was it that it was always his decision on whether to let live or to let rest? He didn’t know what he did in his past lives to warrant such power but whatever god or higher entities that decided to bestow such task to him was either incredibly incompetent or had wished upon the destruction of mankind.
He knew exactly what his answer should be. After all, it was screaming in his ears in a tone that distinctly reminded him of a rambunctious boy with brown hair and bright, bright eyes but as he gazed into the little speck of gleaming light steadily dimming away in the grey of her irises, he took note of the particular way her eyes were similar to his only to recognize a sliver of something he never quite found in his own as he inspect his reflection every morning in the mirror.
Her expression was radiating that of contentment. He knew she had found peace and was already reaching out her arm, welcoming death like an old friend and it would be rude of him to deny her of that salvation.
Perhaps death had been an old friend of hers, he pondered, for the many times she had a brush with it and cheated death to live only a little while longer. She had cheated death way too many times, in fact; for herself, the two people she loved most in the world, the other five members of their little dysfunctional family she would never admit to love almost just as much, and now him, her last remaining family who shared at least some of the same blood running in her veins.
He knew her to be a worrier the minute he saw her. Perfectly calm and composed but so easily pulled apart at the seams when faced with the possibility of losing her loved ones. Their first proper interaction had been exactly that, in fact: her unraveling at the sight of Eren being taken away from her and him making sure that she did not make a choice she would regret.
He could respect it.
Being so devoted to someone that she was struck with such profound fear at the prospect of living in a world without someone so important to her is peak Ackerman’s loyalty.
Now that he looked back at it, given how similar and nearly identical the two of them could be at times, he was surprised it took him so long to put two on two together. Perhaps he had known since the very beginning but had refused to admit to it for fear of and unwillingness to associate with someone who was so consumed in her purpose of protecting her chosen liege that she was blinded by it to the point where she would choose Eren over the rest of humanity, herself included. An even bigger perhaps would be that he had been wary of the likely possibility of her sacrificing the rest of them simply for the sake of Eren. He had been wary that her heart and mind were too filled to the brim with Eren that she had not the room for anyone else.
Truth be told, he was scared of the part of her who wouldn’t second guess Eren’s choice ever, the part of her who would follow him wherever he went even to hell and back, the part of her who would be ready to kill anyone if Eren so wishes. He worried he might slip up and let some people tarnish because of his choice to feign ignorance and turn a blind eye to that side of her; it would be more blood in his hand than what he could bear to handle.
Back then he couldn’t seem to fathom that that was simply not the case, for it had been the complete opposite.
Mikasa had a heart so wide that she had times and times again attempted to fit all of them inside of it. She had put their safety over everything else. It wasn’t exactly a choice made out of a noble cause: she was terrified of losing what little sanity only her most treasured people could give her so she tried to desperately keep them close and from spilling out of her heart and running where she couldn’t follow.
But then again, she was human and humans are allowed to feel fear and long for accompaniment.
Regardless of what reasons had driven her to do so, she had held all of them so close to her heart anyway and it was what counted. She reminded him of a child who so greedily clutch on her little dolls, thinking they would provide her with a sanctuary if she would only take care of them.
It was the opposite of what he had originally thought her out to be and he honest to god didn’t know which was worse.
He quickly figured that his wariness of her hadn’t been because of where he suspected her loyalties laid but more so because he knew of how intense and unrelenting she was in expressing her love and affection. Regardless of whom she had sworn to protect, the length and extremities in which she was willing to go for the one she loved and treasured remained as he had suspected in the beginning. She would make the rest of the world her sworn enemy if it meant she could stay by their side. She would gladly take a bullet for someone if it meant they would be safe. She would gladly die in someone’s stead if need be or if any of them so much as asked her to.
Which was exactly why this situation had came to be.
He was mortified to find just how little regards she took of herself. She thought of herself as mere throwaway, regarding her life as an extra life for whoever needed it to be.
It was his fault. He let it get so far up to this point.
He knew of her self-destructive tendency since the very beginning and yet he never did talk to her about it. She would come to understand in time, he reasoned, and if that doesn’t come, then she’s an adult, capable of making her own decision.
He was only but a distant relative of hers and having a blood connection to her didn’t warrant him complete control over her. It’s not his business to tell her how to live her life, or what decision she should make. But thing was, it was part of his responsibility to make her understand how much she’s worth or at the very least care for her and he had failed to do just that.
And it had hurt more so to again fail and let yet another person perish under his watch and once again be left behind without a liege.
He hadn’t much time with her, practically nothing when compared to Eren and Armin. He had only completely understood everything there was to know about her barely a month ago but the minute he did, he had silently vowed to keep her safe from her own destructive behavior. He didn’t care how much she kicked and screamed, he wouldn’t let her be the only one without someone to watch over her. He wouldn’t let her take a bullet for anyone.
She was the person he had chosen to make liege and she died in his hand, taking a bullet for him nonetheless.
He had failed her. And this was him having to pay the price. The least he could do is grant her salvation; a salvation he couldn’t find it in him to agree with but a salvation she had chosen for herself regardless.
He instantly knew what his answer was. Not an answer he knew it should be, but an answer he knew he would not regret giving her. He could only hope Eren would come to understand his choice.
With voice gravelly and throat strained, he spoke begrudgingly, “Go to sleep, Ackerman.”
“Tell Eren I’m sorry, for everything.”
Damn brat didn’t have to make him feel shitty about his decision. He already made up his mind, dammit. This was a choice he would not regret.
“Go the fuck to sleep already.”
“Levi,” she called, voice barely coming out in a whisper as she, with great difficulty, gasped for air and fought her last grapple with death. He felt her squeeze his hand lightly—so lightly that he would’ve missed it if he hadn’t been looking at their intertwined hands—in what he could only assume was meant to be a form of reassurance but he found himself feeling nothing but dread as he watched her blinked back the tears brimming in the dark of her fading irises, “thank you.”
He watched her slowly close her eyes, his jaw clenching as he tried to etch every last bit of memories he had of her into his mind, memories of when she wasn’t lying in her own pool of blood, memories of when she was lively. She looked peaceful like this, like she’s just going to sleep; too peaceful almost, it had been as if she hadn’t shouldered the burden of being one of humanity’s most prided war machine, as if she’s a normal girl falling asleep underneath a tree after gathering woods for her mom who awaits at home. And he’d make sure to always remember her this way: innocent and unbroken.
He bent down to press a kiss on her forehead, “You’ve done well, Mikasa.”
And he meant it.
In passing, he came to realize it was the first time they ever called each other by names. It would be their last time to and he could only hope that in the last few seconds of borrowed time she was allowed, she had heard him say her name back. His vision was blurry before he knew it and despite being as still as a rock, her cheeks were wet.
For the first time in a long time, Levi let himself mourn. So mourn he did; for yet another king who died under his watch, a friend who left too soon, and the little sister he never got to know properly.