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That morning Sasha woke with the pleasant aroma of freshly baked bread. When her eyes cracked open she caught sight of a familiar bald head, and following a large growl from her stomach, she pushed herself up by her elbows and whined.
"Connie?"
Connie, by the kitchen counter, glanced over with a grin. "Look who joins the living!"
Sasha sat up fully and rubbed at her face. She was still tired, and the clock hanging just above her on the wall read six in the morning. "Not that I'm complaining," the brunette started, "But why are you making bread so early?"
Connie abandoned his baking to walk over to his friend. Though he loved her, Sasha was beginning to take over is living room. She had come to him a month ago, begging for a place to stay. Apparently her last place hadn't worked out, since Sasha's roommate had seen her mid-shift. Sasha was terrified of being hunted down by scared humans, so she had fled to the only place she could. They all knew that Sasha had burnt her bridges with all of their other friends.
"I just woke up with a good feeling," Connie explained. He kicked at the futon Sasha had just been half dead on when he paused by it. "And you know what? Anytime is bread time."
Sasha groaned, her stomach growled, and she reached out with her hand. "Well pull me up, baldy. I'm hungry!"
Connie laughed and tugged Sasha upwards. When she was on her feet he playfully pinched her stomach. "Stop calling me baldy."
Sasha stuck her tongue out. "I'll stop when you grow some hair."
Connie felt his ears and tail pop out without his consent, and allowed his eyes to glow fiercely. "Oh?" He spread his hands out in front of him, making a grabbing motion. "Do I need to tickle you to death, Potato?"
Sasha crossed her arms over her chest. "I'm faster than you."
Connie gave the statement a test and dove for his friend. Sasha was quick, and on strong legs she evaded the attack. When Connie crashed to the ground she rushed down the hall, laughing and throwing bald jokes over her shoulder. Connie changed fully then, and his four feet thundered underneath him as he shot down the hall, crashing into Sasha just as she flung the bedroom door halfway closed. The brunette squeaked and was tossed into the air.
Sasha shifted in a below of steam and landed on all fours. She huffed out a breath and then advanced on Connie while he recovered. He only managed to dodge her claws by a few inches, and growled just as Sasha soared past him. They turned to each other, tails wagging crazily and growls ripping from their parted jaws.
We shouldn't do this here, Connie advised. Last time we made so much noise I was almost kicked out for hosting dog fighting.
Sasha chuckled as best she could, she sound coming out rough, and pranced around the bedroom with her chest thrust out. Scared, Connie?
Connie bristled, but he did not take to the challenge. He knew Sasha enjoyed provoking him. So he shifted back into his human form and then dashed for Sasha, tackling her to the floor with his strong arms. The brown cynan released a surprised chuff and then immediately started kicking her leg in delight when Connie found her soft spot—her belly—and applied skilled rubs there. Sasha even rolled over onto her back, tongue lolling out of her mouth, tail thumping against the floor.
Connie laughed. "Okay, so how about we stuff our faces with some bread and then go out for a run around the city?"
Sasha's tail stopped for a second as she contemplated, and then it began to thump more excitedly on the floor. She changed back to her human form, and her and Connie clothed themselves before heading back to the lounge—Sasha having to borrow a shirt and some pants from her short friend, since hers were almost all torn by now.
They sat together by the kitchen counter and divided the bread in half. Instead of cutting it into slices, though, they simply dunked it into an open butter container and munched on it freely. Sasha didn't even wait after swallowing to tear a new chunk of bread off, and finished well before Connie did. When he was done, Connie whistled and then slapped his belly.
"I make a mean loaf of bread."
Sasha's head thunked against the counter and she groaned, though in agreement. Connie laughed at her.
"You shouldn't have forced so much down," he said, leaning forward to poke Sasha's cheek. She sighed when he did, and then he stood and stretched. "Hey, you okay to run? It might help the food digest."
Sasha groaned again. "Actually, I think I'm gonna lay down for a bit first." She slid off of the chair, arms pulled against her stomach, and collapsed on her never-made futon.
Connie, being the ever caring friend, found some medicine that he thought would help. He left it on the counter and called out to Sasha to let her know, but found that she had already dropped off into sleep. It was early, he supposed, so he merely sighed and then headed off on his own. He would probably meet the others later, and get to run with them.
Meanwhile Sasha had horrible a dream of bread loafs being actual people, and baking loafs of Sasha. Her graphic mind depicted the scene in which the loaf people cut her up, smeared her with butter and swallowed her down. When she woke covered in sweat, Sasha slapped a hand over her face and groaned at her overactive imagination. What did Connie put in his bread?
She shook the fright off and tumbled her way to the shower, desperately in need of a fresh wash to get the sweat and grime from her skin—she hadn't really bathed since a week ago, too.
Sasha experimentally sniffed her underarm, did so again, and deduced that if she did stink, then she was so used to it that she didn't notice it. But her skin definitely screamed for a wash, and she happily acquiesced.
After a long hour in the shower Sasha finally made her way into Connie's bedroom, nude as the day she was born. He wasn't home, so she didn't worry, and she dug around in his cupboard for something to wear other than a stained t-shirt and boxers.
She managed to find a fairly decent pair of grey jeans that fit her almost too snugly, and then a cotton black shirt. It felt soft on her clean skin, and the material held the strong scent of Connie. Sasha only spared a moment to wonder if the clothes were clean, but shrugged the thought off as she walked happily to the front door and locked it behind her once she was outside.
The sun felt warm on her skin, and Sasha very much enjoyed tilting her head so that the rays could splash across her skin. It was energizing. Enough so that Sasha took off running immediately, forgetting that she owned a sleek bike that still had plenty of petrol left to burn. No—this time she used her legs, and when the coast was clear she undressed, hid the clothes somewhere no one would find it, and then shifted. It was wonderful to run through the trees on all fours, and Sasha howled loudly as she did.
Small animals that had been out scurried away quickly, though they had nothing to fear—Sasha was not the hunter kind of cynan. When her father had taken her hunting for the first time at thirteen, she had killed a small bird and had cried all day. Her father tried to ease her into the practice, in case she found herself without an option, but Sasha couldn't do it. She'd eat meat from the market without hesitation, but not an animal that she had killed herself—it just wasn't in her.
Most of her fellow cynan friends found it odd. Especially Eren and Reiner—the two of them were so bonded over their love for hunting, that Sasha wondered why they didn't simply date. But Eren wasn't interested in romance and he had Armin loyally by his side. Reiner had Berthold and Annie, though the three of them would never admit who was into whom.
Sure, none of them had even come close to finding their true partner, the one that they would bind with, but they could still fall in love if they wanted.
Sasha had a very basic understanding of love. Unlike some she wasn't quick to think that love was anything but problematic. Many times she wondered why she couldn't just love Connie and leave it at that. He was like her soulmate, and the only cynan that understood her weird ways. Hell, he was even weirder than her. But Sasha could ever bring herself to feel that way about him. She loved him deeply, but the kind of love that was completely platonic. In short, she didn't really need romance. The connection she had to her friends kept her happy enough. Connie was a loyal friend, brother, as were the others. Sasha couldn't imagine herself becoming tangled up in something like love, though the idea kept her curious.
The entire day passed by without Sasha realizing it. She hadn't run into anyone from her pack, and it began to worry her. Usually they would be around this area—an abandoned portion of the city, where blocks of flats had been infested with mice and deadly insects. There was a large collection of trees and bushes around the abandoned homes, so it was safe for them to freely move around in the area.
But today no one was here, not even their scents. Sasha wondered where everyone was, and suddenly had a strange niggling feeling at the back of her mind, like someone was trying desperately to tell her something, but she was too far away.
Instead of worry herself over it, Sasha shrugged her large shoulders and trotted over to a small lake deeper in the woods. The sun had just begun to set, and it was a great spot to rest and watch as the light diminished slowly. So she did just that, and found her usual seat among the silky soft grass.
Sasha collapsed onto her side and curled into a ball, muzzle resting on her front paws. Her eyes remained on the bar of light coming in through the trees, and as it thinned out to near nothingness, Sasha felt an ever growing sense of fear. When she sat up, eventually, a scent hit her nose like a bullet train.
It was strong—enough to send her into a sneezing fit. When she recovered she lifted her nose high to catch the scent again, and realized that it was coming from ahead, carried down the hill by a strong wind. Whatever the scent belonged to, it was headed her way, and with a sudden icy realization, Sasha knew what it was.
Her limbs locked up, like a robot without oil in its joints. She could not even blink. That scent, so overpowering, washed over her like a blanket of perfume. Sasha swallowed lightly and wondered why the scent was so pleasant. She always thought that it would repulse her, since many cynans claimed that it did for them. But this smell was warm, like a comforting fire. It reminded Sasha of a hot meal waiting for her at the end of the day, though it wasn't really associated with the motion of sating her hunger. It made her feel excited inside, her blood pumping faster through her body. Adrenalin filled her, and Sasha was unable to remain upright.
Her heart felt like it was just about ready to explode, and she released a long, scared whine. It reminded her of when she had been just a mere pup, shifting for the first time and stumbling due to how odd four legs had felt. This was worse, and Sasha's ears folded back tightly against her head. She whined some more, like the whining itself would deter the thing coming her way. It didn't.
From the treeline a large wolf emerged, head lowered as she sniffed at the ground. Sasha could immediately tell that it was a female just by her scent, and her whining stopped.
She was immensely large—majestic, even. Her hair, impossibly thick, ruffled lightly with the wind that had carried her scent. It was black too—like the darkest night Sasha had ever scene. Her eyes were something else entirely, almost as black as her fur; yet lighter enough to be distinguished as a different shade.
Since the wind had been blowing against Sasha, the wolf hadn't caught her scent. But she did notice her, and when the lycan's head lifted and those dark, glowing eyes landed on Sasha, her lips curled back over sharp fangs. A deep, loud growl ripped from between her teeth and Sasha immediately fell to her stomach, ears folded back so tightly that it hurt.
The lycan seemed almost surprised, enough that the growling stopped. Sasha's eyes did not leave her, and when the lycan slowly stepped forward, she noticed that the beast was limping.
The rich scent had been her blood. It looked like the lycan was bleeding a lot, and Sasha swallowed tightly as she gathered her courage enough to sit up.
Y-you're hurt? It came out like a terrified croak. Sasha cringed at herself.
The lycan stopped moving all together, ears straight up and twitching in every direction. She tilted her head at Sasha, angling herself so that she could hear a little better. It was almost as if she was looking for someone—or multiple people. Did she have a pack? Were they here with her?
Ice filled Sasha's veins, and she cursed the fact that she had not run when she had the chance. Even if she ran now, the lycan could chase after her—and rip her throat out.
U-um, if you're hurt I can help you, Sasha tried. Her mind raced for every possible solution out of this mess.
The lycan's stoic eyes stared at her, cold and unrelenting. She started lowering herself, nails digging deeply into the soil, lips curling back over her teeth once more.
Sasha's heart dropped—that was the stance of a hunter, a killer. And she was the prey.
Before Sasha could turn and run, the lycan shot forward, jumping high into the air and landing just in front of Sasha. The brown cynan tipped backwards and yelped loudly when large paws slammed against her chest and she was pinned to the ground, with a growling, drooling lycan crouched right over her. Their faces were inches apart, and Sasha's wide eyes stared into the lycan's very soul.
Why did you not run? she asked. Her voice was smooth, like melting cold ice cream. It sent a shiver down Sasha's entire body and she could not fathom why her heart was reacting the way it was—not in fear, but in elation.
I… I…
Sasha felt a strange tingling sensation and realized that it was the lycans blood dripping onto her hip and sliding down her side. Her chest heaved, and she truly hoped that this lycan was not starved and ready for some cynan meat.
But the lycan's anger seemed to dissipate, and once more she looked stoic and hard. Her eyes became lidded, and she opened her mouth as if to bite, but suddenly slumped forward—she was out cold.
Sasha scrambled out from underneath her and stared with wide eyes as the lycan slowly morphed back into her human form. When she had shifted, Sasha could clearly see a deep gash on her side, between her ribs and her hip. It looked painful, and if it wasn't tended to within the hour the lycan would die from blood loss.
Making probably the biggest mistake of her life, Sasha shifted back and pulled the naked girl into her arms. She was pretty—no, beautiful enough that Sasha no longer felt the paralyzing fear. The lycan's hair was just as dark as her fur had been, and stopped just below her chin. Most notable was her beautiful, elegant features and the old scar adorning her right cheek.
With a flutter in her stomach, Sasha took off running. She made it back to Connie's place within an hour and hurried up the stairs to his apartment. Once inside she placed the injured woman on her futon, not caring of the blood, and rushed to Connie's bathroom for his first aid kit—thank god for Connie's tendency to injure himself more than anything.
Sasha went to work on stitching the lycan's wounds up. Though her hands shook, her motions were precise. She had done this before, for herself and for Connie, and it was almost second nature. After the wound was closed, Sasha applied an anti-septic and then wrapped a bandage around her firm torso, blushing lightly at the pure rawness of the woman's abs. Seriously, Sasha thought, she can kill a man with these abs—or two.
Once the wound was properly cared for Sasha found one of her rare shirts that had remained intact, and dressed the lycan with it, as well as a pair of old boxers—she couldn't just leave her naked.
Afterwards she had a second shower and then she dressed in Connie's clothes—it would only take a few more days for him to notice that his clothes were steadily disappearing.
When everything was all set and done, Sasha collapsed on the couch by the lycan's side. Her hands, still shaking, clasped together tightly. She had no idea what she was doing, and surely Connie would freak.
When her cellphone rang, she knew it was Connie before she even answered it.
"Hello?"
"Sash! Oh god, I was so worried. I kept trying to send you a message but you were too far. Where the hell were you?"
Sasha nervously rubbed her forearm. "I was, um, downtown."
Connie choked on his tongue. "And you're still alive?!" He took a deep breath to calm himself. "Look, we were going out earlier when we caught a lycan's scent. We think it's only one of them, but I rushed over to Eren's the moment we noticed. They wouldn't let me leave to fetch you. Where are you?"
Sasha pressed a hand to her sweaty forehead and glanced down at the lycan, still out cold and now resting peacefully. Oh I definitely know about the lycan problem, she thought.
"I'm at your place."
"Sasha, head down to the basement! Snuff your scent out and wait until the lycan leaves. We've got scouts around the city, and they'll let us know when it's safe."
Sasha bit her lip. "Actually, that'll be a little difficult…"
"What do you mean?"
An hour later Connie tumbled through his front door, body bare as he had just shifted before thrusting his door open. When he caught sight of Sasha on the couch, and then the unconscious figure on the futon, he absolutely froze.
"Oh my god, you weren't joking."
Sasha frowned and shot to her feet. "You think I'd joke about this? You really are an idiot, Connie!"
"Me? You're the one that fucking brought one of them here!"
"What was I supposed to do?"
Connie's mouth dropped. "Kill it, maybe?"
Sasha felt like it was a personal blow, and took a step towards the lycan. "I would never do that!"
"Sasha, it's a fucking monster and you brought it to my house! What do you think it's gonna do when it wakes? Thank you?!"
"I… I don't know! But I couldn't leave her there to die! She's injured!"
Connie paused. "Injured?"
"Yeah!" Sasha sniffled and rubbed a hand over her face. "She caught me by the lake but passed out when she attacked me and—"
"She attacked you?!" Connie interrupted in a yell. "And you BRING HER HOME?"
Sasha could see that Connie wasn't going to understand, but she knew that she needed to calm him down before they woke the lycan. Even though she felt strangely protective of the beast, she knew that Connie was right—lycans had no loyalty, not even to cynans that saved their life. There was no telling what this wolf would do.
Unfortunately, Sasha had no time to urge Connie to calm down. Before she knew it she felt a strong arm wrap around her neck and then she was pressed against a firm, lean body. It was the lycan, and her chest was already beginning to rumble with a growl.
Connie stopped yelling and went dead still. His eyes filled with horror and for a second he looked as if he would simply bolt from the room, leaving Sasha alone to deal with the lycan. But he couldn't do that, and seeing the terror on his friend's face kept his feet glued to the floor.
"Where am I?" she asked, that voice ever as smooth and cold as it was earlier.
Sasha visibly shook, and she swallowed hard against the woman's arm. "A-at my house," she answered. "You're safe here."
Connie expected the lycan to laugh or to smirk—something to show her arrogance, that she wasn't the one that needed safety, but there was nothing of the sort. Those dark grey eyes only stared into his own, calculating and suspicious.
"Why did you bring me here?"
Sasha whimpered. "You… you were hurt!" She squeezed her eyes shut. "I s-stitched your wound up and cleaned it. I also bandaged it. It didn't look like it was healing!" Her eyes flew open. "Please, don't hurt Connie! Let him go if you're gonna kill me."
The lycan snorted loudly, her first outward reaction, and then she slowly released Sasha frown her hold. "I'm not going to kill you."
Sasha dropped to her knees, now crying and a snivelling mess. "Y-you aren't?"
The lycan lifted the shirt and touched a finger to the bandage. She could feel that the stitches were well done, but not needed. She healed faster than cynans, though this one had apparently correctly guessed the situation.
Any ordinary injury, even those that would be severe to humans, was nothing to a lycan—unless inflicted by a lycan, and in this case, that is what had happened. The wound would take days to heal, opposed to the usual mere hour or two. If this cynan hadn't carried her here and closed her wound, then she was sure that she would have been dead already.
Though difficult to admit, the lycan knew that she had to show appreciation. A large part of her was still wary. There was no telling if they had a pack nearby, ready to attack. In her state she would be easy to take down, but there was no other scent than the two weredogs before her, and she forced her shoulders to relax.
"Thank you," she said softly, a frown on her lips. "I'm Mikasa." She offered a hand to the cynan at her feet.
Sasha wiped the tears and snot from her face and shot the lycan—Mikasa—a startled look. She hesitantly took her hand, and then she yelped when she was tugged up onto her feet.
"I-it was nothing."
"I would have died without you," Mikasa admitted tersely. "So I promise that I will not bring harm to you." She then shot Connie a look, and it was plainly obvious that the same did not apply to him. "I won't attack first, but if you do, I will rip your throat out."
Connie collapsed to his knees and pressed his fists to the floor. Adrenalin still coursed through his veins, and he shot both Mikasa and Sasha an incredulous look.
"Eren is not gonna believe this," he said softly. He seemed reluctant to, but knew that he had to leave, so she sent Sasha a look. She nodded slowly, and then he carefully slipped out of the door. Mikasa didn't want to let him go but she couldn't very well chase him with her injury.
Sudden pain wracked her torso and Mikasa pressed a hand to it. She released a short growl in irritation, and then she felt a soft touch on her shoulder and she lifted a brow. The cynan was touching her, and though she looked scared out of her mind, she was still brave enough to attempt physical contact.
"You're brave," Mikasa said.
Sasha startled slightly at her voice and shook her head. "I am quite literally shitting my pants. I'm not brave."
Mikasa narrowed her eyes but offered no other reaction. She tilted her head back to sniff the air once, and cringed at the stale and sour tinge to the air. At least the girl before her smelt clean, though the clothes did not.
Pain flew through her again and Mikasa squeezed her eyes shut. Damnit, she thought, they fucking used poison on their claws.
"A-are you okay?" Sasha asked, voice loud and shrill. She looked like she wanted to bolt from the room, and Mikasa had to resist the urge to smirk in amusement. Though she hated the fear she received for merely existing, sometimes seeing the reaction of cynans was amusing.
"I'm fine," she stated sternly. "Do you have a bathroom?"
Sasha nodded once and pointed down the hall. "Th-the door on the left."
Mikasa walked slowly by her, not sparing a glance, and headed to the bathroom. Once inside she shut the door, and then she slumped by the sink, wincing. She undid the bandage to assess the damage, and cringed at the horrible scar it would leave—the poison would make sure of it.
She sighed softly and struggled through fixing the bandage, and then she splashed her face with water and stared into her own impassive eyes in the mirror.
"Why didn't you kill her?" she asked herself, flashing back to the lake, where her instincts told her to lunge and kill. "Because I can't," she answered herself, eyes falling low. "I've never been like that."
She dried her face on a nearby towel and then stumbled her way back to Sasha. The poor girl hadn't moved an inch, and Mikasa was shocked to find herself feeling guilty. The cynan was merely shaking in her presence, and she wasn't exactly making it any easier. Mikasa sighed and pressed a cold hand to her forehead.
At least Sasha was cute, Mikasa mused. Her hair was a little messed up from the near fight earlier, and it was apparent that she hadn't attempted to clean her appearance up when she'd arrived home. She had probably been too busy saving Mikasa's life while simultaneously fearing for her own. It was quite funny, when Mikasa thought about it, but a large part of her felt more saddened than amused.
"Your name is Sasha, right?" Mikasa enquired. When Sasha's eyes widened, Mikasa rolled her eyes. "I heard the other mutt call you that."
Sasha swallowed, though her eyebrows did draw together at the use of the word 'mutt'. Mikasa cursed herself softly for using it, but outwardly held no remorse. She hated the slur, but it was so ingrained in her that it slipped out without a thought.
"I really won't hurt you, so you can stop looking like you're either going to cry and run." Mikasa passed by Sasha and tapped her lightly on the hip. The cynan startled enough that she tripped over the futon and fell to the floor. She flung her hands wildly and only managed to grab a hold of Mikasa's shirt, sending the lycan down to the floor with her.
When Mikasa landed on top of Sasha, it was clumsy and painful. Her senses were dulled and her reflexes lame, and so she had fallen with her full weight. The wound stung badly, and tears threatened to collect at the corners of her eyes. But other than a sharp inhale, Mikasa did not show a reaction.
Sasha was sputtering and red in the face, and her eyes were so wide open that Mikasa worried they would fall out. She lifted a hand and firmly shut the cynan's mouth, and then she frowned down at her.
"Are you trying to kill me?" she asked angrily. "That hurt."
Sasha sputtered some more. "N-n-no!"
Mikasa sighed and pulled her body over to the futon. She rested carefully down on her side, and then she pressed a hand to the wound and winced.
Sasha recovered slowly and sat up to watch her. "I'm sorry," she said slowly. "I'm just… you're really intimidating… and… and…"
"And my kind is known to be complete evil bastards, right?" Mikasa sounded bitter, and it surprised her more than it did Sasha. "Whatever. Just let me sleep and down fall on me anytime soon. I might be inclined to get violent."
Sasha nodded vigorously, and then she scrambled to her feet and hurried to Connie's bedroom. There she regained her bearings, heart thudding painfully in her chest.
Just… just what was this strange reaction she was having?
Sasha decided to spend her time in Connie's room, playing on his Nintendo DS, hoping that the lycan would leave. Maybe if she was lucky Mikasa would climb through the window and disappear, though a part of Sasha sagged in disappointment at the thought.
After a while her phone rang again, and Sasha had no choice but to emerge quickly to answer it—it was in the living room, on the coffee table.
Luckily it hadn't woken Mikasa, who was sleeping peacefully on the futon. She was no longer holding her side, but her brow did seem to twitch every so often.
Sasha swiped across the screen quickly to answer the call, and then she pressed the phone to her ear and hissed, "Hello?"
"Sasha! What the fuck man?" It was Eren. "Connie just got here and he told me that you actually brought one of those things home?"
Sasha sighed softly, and she did not notice that Mikasa had stirred. Mikasa's dark eyes fluttered open, and her sensitive hearing immediately caught the grating, angry voice from the phone. She perked slightly in order to listen, but continued to feign sleep. She was curious to see how this little cynan would respond.
"Eren, keep your voice down!" Sasha urged, shooting Mikasa's still figure a worried glance. "She's asleep right now."
"'She'? Oh, so are you best friends now?"
"Eren, she's still a person."
Eren snorted, clearly not convinced. "Yeah, sure, and I'm not Eren, the greatest lycan destroyer this age has ever seen."
"Eren, I know that you hate them, but she's different. Her name is Mikasa. Okay? She has a name."
"I don't care if it has a name, it's still a monster to me. They all need to fucking die and I'll be the bastard to do it."
Sasha felt a sudden rush of anger. "You won't touch her," she growled, voice too deep to be human.
Mikasa visibly startled, though Sasha didn't notice. Her eyes shot open and she cast the cynan a surprised look.
"What the fuck?" Eren bellowed. "Are you actually defending it now?!"
Sasha gritted her teeth hard and plopped down onto the couch. She was shaking, and most of the thoughts in her head made no sense. "Look, did you just call to yell?"
Eren cleared his throat and grumbled. "No. Connie told me to tell you that he won't come home until she's gone. Are you safe there, at least?"
Sasha glanced at Mikasa, noticing the swish of her hair and thinking that maybe she had just turned her head. She shrugged it off and sighed. "I really don't know, but a part of me says that she won't hurt me. In the end if she does it's my fault, yeah? Don't worry about me."
Eren did not buy it one minute. "I'm going to Erwin," he said sternly. "And if Erwin says so, we're coming to kill it."
Sasha's chest tightened. "Eren, no!"
"Keep it distracted," Eren said, ignoring Sasha's exclamation. "Hopefully you'll be safe for the night. Erwin will gather his alphas, and when we get there, it'll be all out war."
"Don't you dare, Eren!"
"If it's as injured as Connie says, then it should be easy to rip its throat out."
"Eren I swear I'll never share my food with you again!"
Eren didn't even chuckle. "Good luck." The call ended, and then Sasha lowered the phone and stared down at it.
"He sounds pleasant," Mikasa drawled tonelessly. When Sasha jumped and looked to her, Mikasa's eyes were glowing a vibrant black—if black could even be vibrant.
Sasha felt like crying. "I… I tried to stop him!" she exclaimed. "He wouldn't listen."
Mikasa sat up and tested her wound. It wasn't as painful as earlier, and seemed to be healing better. The sleep had helped. "I know," she said. "I heard." She stood up shakily and withheld a furious curse when her legs almost gave out under her. Sasha rushed to her side and caught her in time, and the two shared a sudden awkward glance.
"What are you doing?" Sasha asked softly. "You need to rest."
Mikasa shook her head. "He's coming to get me. I should leave."
Sasha released her. "But where will you go?"
"I don't know," Mikasa snapped. "Why do you even care?"
Sasha's back straightened and her fists closed tightly. She sucked in a deep breath, and then, with her heart pounding, let her mouth fly. "C-cause I think you're hot!" she exclaimed. A moment later she clamped a hand over her mouth, regretting ever having set it free.
Mikasa froze, and steadily her eyes lifted to meet Sasha's horrified gaze. The corner of her mouth quirked ever so slightly. "Hot?" she asked. "Is it the abs?"
Sasha blushed brightly and she covered her face with her hands. "Please forget that I said that."
"You'll be set on fire just for the thought, you know," Mikasa added, this time looking a little less stony than she had a moment ago. When Sasha looked at her, Mikasa sighed and pointed at her bandaged torso. "I'd know."
Sasha's mouth went dry. "Wh-what do you mean?"
Mikasa approach her then, steps steadier now. She reached out and touched a finger to Sasha's cheek, which was still blazing red. "I don't look at you and want to rip your throat out," she said softly. "I don't hate your kind."
Sasha's brows furrowed. "Why are you telling me this?"
"Don't believe me?" Mikasa asked. Her eyebrow quirked, and then she surprised Sasha by pulling her in for a full body hug. She made sure to wrap her arms nicely around her, and then gave a hearty squeeze—but not too tightly, least she break the girl's bones.
Sasha squeaked and wrapped her arms around Mikasa's body in surprise. The strong scent from Mikasa washed over her, burning her nose in the most pleasant way, and Sasha felt her entire body shudder. She did not want to admit it, but she suddenly felt very hot, and it was very uncomfortable.
"Have you never hugged a lycan before?" Mikasa mocked.
"Of course not!"
"Now you can brag to your friends."
"Yeah, and they'll kill you."
Sasha regretted her words, even more so when Mikasa immediately pulled away. The black-haired lycan looked her pointedly in the face, mouth set in a frown. "I really do need to leave," she said. "I don't want to hurt you by being here."
Sasha was further confused. "Why do you care?"
Mikasa scoffed, rolling her eyes. This was the most Sasha had seen her face do. "You saved my life when your instincts told you to run. If you hadn't acted so foolishly, then I would be long dead by now."
Now Sasha pouted. "It wasn't foolish!"
Mikasa rolled her eyes. "If someone told me this story, and I wasn't living it right now, I would laugh in their face." She neatened the futon she had slept in, and then slipped out of the clothes. "Our kinds do not help each other. We fight to the death, not stitch each other's wounds. You've gone past a very firm line, and I'm not sure that either of us can come out of this unscathed."
Sasha was blushing again. "Why are you undressing?"
"I don't need the clothes," she said. "I've been in my wolf form for five months now. I survive off of nature." She had finished removing the boxers and had folded them, and was now pulling the shirt gently over her head. "But thank you for the clothes. I appreciate it."
Sasha swallowed. "Okay, no… you don't have to leave. I'll talk to Eren, to Erwin! I'll tell them that you're different."
Mikasa chuckled—it was a sad sound. "And they'll believe you?"
Anger filled Sasha's chest. She wanted them to. Yes, she wasn't a lycan fan. In fact, her family had been killed by them, and she had hated them for that. But if anything life has taught her, it was that hating a collect group for one individual's actions, or a small portion of it, would not bring about change.
"It doesn't have to be like this," Sasha reasoned. Her entire body was burning now. Really, what was this feeling?
"Have you felt it, Sasha?" Mikasa asked. Her eyes were hard as she gestured between them.
Sasha shook her head. "What do you mean?"
"Do you know about binding?"
Sasha's entire body froze. "What does that have to do with us?"
Mikasa's eyes hardened. It was like acid on her tongue, but she felt like she needed to point it out, to let this adorable idiot understand the gravity of what she had done. "Sasha, you are my mate." She straightened. "I felt it the moment I caught sight of you." She bit into her bottom lip. "And that is why I was able to black out right on top of you."
Sasha stared at her, uncomprehending. What? There was no way that was true. Biding with someone was an extremely rare thing. One in a million, really—no, a billion. It only ever happened once every century, twice if someone was extremely lucky.
It was like dropping two needles in an endless haystack, and those two needles somehow finding each other. It was impossible.
But Sasha could feel it coursing through her veins. It was this feeling that had prompted her to carry Mikasa home instead of leave her to die. It was this feeling that allowed her to quickly and gently tend to Mikasa's wounds, and it was this feeling that had urged her to protect Mikasa while she was injured.
"Of all the people," Mikasa sighed softly, rubbing at her eyes. "It had to be someone like you. A goddamn cynan."
Sasha flinched. "I thought you didn't hate my kind."
"I don't," Mikasa snapped. "But how the hell am I supposed to deal with this, with feeling this way without my control? I'll be butchered before I even get a chance to know you!"
Sasha heard the bitterness there, the sadness. It echoed in her chest and she clutched at it. This was… a lot to take in—though part of Sasha was becoming excited.
This… this was her perfect someone? It was impossible, but Sasha couldn't deny how her soul reached out in recognition, begging for her to hug Mikasa again. It was like they had lived a life together, in another life, another time. Sasha teared up.
"But… how could we…?"
Mikasa managed a small smile. "You brought me here," she explained. "I… ever since I was little, I knew that you were somewhere. I've been looking my entire life, and it led me here. But a few friends," she said it with venom, "Of mine, they didn't think the way I do. To them, looking for a supposed soulmate isn't top priority." Mikasa's eyes clouded over in loneliness. "I needed you, to be honest. My kind isn't even fair to each other. We kill each other for territory and pride, and we spout all this nonsense about being the superior race. Really, we're all just a bunch of pathetic, arrogant idiots." She furiously rubbed at her eyes again. "And then I finally find you, and you're… you're—"
Sasha interrupted her with an action that surprised them both. She hugged her tightly, mindful of her injuries, and pressed her face against Mikasa's neck. It was so warm, and Sasha sighed softly.
"I don't care," she said fiercely. "Lycan, cynan, it doesn't matter to me. I don't care what others will say. I can feel it… we… we've been together before. I want to know you, Mikasa. And I know that no matter what, you'll never hurt me."
Mikasa hesitantly hugged her back. "You really are a fool," she said. "You heard your friend. He's after me. He'll be here with the entire pack."
Sasha only tightened her hold. "Then we'll just have to disappear before he gets here."
Mikasa shook her head. "You can't mean what I think you mean."
Sasha, shaking, laughed as she pulled away. "I'm still scared of you!" she admitted. "But if you'll have me, I wouldn't mind living in the wild with you. About an hour from here there is this mountain, and I heard that it has healthy prey there, and lots of trees."
Mikasa sighed lightly and pressed her cheek to Sasha's head. "Have you forgotten what I am?"
"No. I can smell it. You smell really amazing."
"We might be hunted down. There has never been a mated couple like us before."
Sasha withdrew and playfully poked Mikasa's cheek. "We can start a revolution, then!"
Mikasa sighed and caught her finger. "How can you trust me? I could be lying."
Smiling, Sasha pressed their joined hands to her chest. "Because I can feel it in here, since the moment you almost ripped my throat out."
"You're stupid," Mikasa deadpanned.
"I've never really been the smartest."
Mikasa shifted suddenly, hot steam pushing Sasha to the side. The brunette shielded her eyes, and when she opened them she shuddered. Mikasa stood over her, dark eyes glowing and fierce. She did not growl or pull her lips back over her teeth, but she did lick her muzzle, and she made sure to tower right over a shaking Sasha. It was a last ditch attempt to convince Sasha not to leave with her.
Mikasa wanted her to. She had been thinking about it since the moment she had woken. What can I do to win her over without actually kidnapping her? she had asked herself. Now it seemed that Sasha was more than willing, but Mikasa was concerned. Surely if lycans caught wind that she had mated with a cynan, they would want both their heads.
But the way Sasha was staring at her, in both fear and awe, and made Mikasa's chest buzz. It was nothing she had ever felt before, and even though she appeared stoic on the outside, inside she was rejoicing. She had been alone her whole life, discarded and ostracized. Mikasa had never wanted to hate the cynans like her parents wanted her to. Therefore she had been bullied. Lycans called her a wimp and made her feel as though her compassion for their lower species made her weak.
Maybe it was the fact that Sasha was her mate. Maybe a deep part of Mikasa had always known. But she was scared—not for herself, for Sasha.
Sasha swallowed and stepped closer. Mikasa did not move, so she hesitantly reached out and pressed her hands to Mikasa's large chest. Her fur was soft and silky, and her chest heaved with her breaths. Sasha's heart swelled, and then suddenly she was hugging Mikasa around her thick neck, refusing to let go even when Mikasa growled in warning. The growling stopped, and Mikasa released a breath.
This won't be easy, you know, she said.
Sasha shook her head. "I don't care. We can protect each other."
Mikasa couldn't resist and she licked Sasha once across the cheek. Sasha yelled in surprise and stumbled back, once more tripping over the futon and landing on her backside. Mikasa watched her in concern, and then she huffed a good few times in amusement.
Sasha narrowed her eyes. "That was sexual assault," she complained. She quickly took her clothes off and then shifted too. At least Mikasa wasn't that much larger than her. It was still intimidating, but Sasha felt oddly at ease, and she knew that in time she could come to find Mikasa's larger size comforting.
Do you really want to do this? Mikasa asked.
Sasha walked up to her and licked her hesitantly under the jaw. Mikasa's ears folded back, and then she swept forward to rub her cheek against Sasha's shoulder. It was like a hug, or a kiss even, and Sasha would have blushed if she could. Sasha's tail was wagging, and to Mikasa's surprise, so was hers.
You know, Sasha began, even though I'm already very attracted to you, I can tell that you're going to be very difficult. I don't think I'm in love with you yet.
You are, Mikasa huffed. What do you think the warm feeling is?
Gas?
Mikasa rolled her eyes. Okay, so how about we leave before your pack gets here?
Oh yeah! I should probably reject myself from the pack, then.
Mikasa's head lowered. She hadn't thought about that. You don't have to, she urged. I won't mind.
Oh please! I want to form a pack with you. I mean, if we have babies they need to be born into our pack! Sasha skipped over to the kitchen, shifting as she did. She ignored the strangled choking from Mikasa—shock at her comment of children—and rustled around in the drawer for a knife. Mikasa joined her before she cut into her wrist, and then the lycan merely watched as Sasha quickly wet her fingers with her blood, and drew a few words on her skin. As she drew them she whispered them, and then with a silent apology, she closed her eyes and held her breath.
Slowly Sasha could feel the connection to her pack fade, until it was silent and empty in her head. By the time her eyes opened her wound had already healed, and the blood and evaporated into nothing. Suddenly there were anguished howls in the distance, and Sasha recognized them as belonging to Connie and Eren.
We better leave, Mikasa urged.
Sasha nodded and shifted to her cynan form. She gave Mikasa a firm lick below the ear this time, much more comfortable with her mate now that her soul was free of any connections. We should perform the ritual, Sasha suggested.
When we aren't being pursued, maybe, Mikasa agreed. She bumped by Sasha as they hurried out of the building and then she bounded down the stairs. Of all the people I've spent past lives with, it's you.
Hey, what's wrong with me?
You're quick to make impulsive decisions.
They were walking calmly through the trees, staying in the darkest shadows of the night. No scents alerted them to any lycan or cynan presence, so they allowed themselves a leisurely walk to the edge of the city.
Well I saved your life, didn't I? I think it was worth it.
You're leaving your pack for a stranger, a werewolf.
Sasha paused and waited for Mikasa to turn to her. When the black lycan did, her ears folded back at the sudden fury behind Sasha's eyes.
Stop coming up with reasons for us not to do this. I told you, I don't care. I don't know much about love and sex and relationships, but I want to be with you. I have no choice, anyway! Even if you leave without me, I will dream about you. I will long for you. I've never expected to find someone to love, but now that it's happening, I want it. So please, being a lycan does not make you a monster, and it doesn't mean that I'm not allowed to love you.
Mikasa sat down and stared at her paws. She mulled it over, and then with a sigh she inclined her head and waited for Sasha to sit down beside her.
You may be dumb, but you're wise when you want to be.
I hope that you love me even after getting to know me.
Mikasa rolled her eyes and leaned down to rest her chin down on Sasha's head. I'm sure I will.
Sasha's tail wagged, and then it stopped when they heard more howling in the distance. It was close. They had to leave now.
Sasha needed no prompting, and when Mikasa made off for the woods, she followed. Her lycan mate made sure to run more slowly so that Sasha could keep up, and before they knew it the howling was long behind them, as was the city.
They ran the whole night, enjoying each other's company, avoiding any scents that they came across. And when they finally collapsed in a clearing due to exhaustion, they curled up together and slept.
Sasha had woken that morning like she had every other, and when she woke again, she would feel on top of the world.