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Dry grass crunches under his shoes as he walks up the hill, not as steep as it looked from a distance: the wind blows behind his back, his tie flying around and flapping aimlessly against his torso, carefully styled bangs all ruffled on his forehead.
Reiner suppresses a shiver, arms hanging limp at his sides as he makes his way to the lone tree on the top. Even though spring has barely started, sweat glues the back of his shirt to his skin: thankfully there's a cool breeze that blows and grazes Reiner's flushed cheeks, relieving him somewhat. A nostalgic scent fills his nose: daffodils paint the sunny side of the hill in a relaxing shade of yellow, flowers bobbing gently in the wind.
He's covered quite some distance, and it does take a different toll on his body, now. His thighs ache in a pleasant way as he sighs, finally on top of the hill, the lone evergreen tree casting a long afternoon shadow on the opposite side of it.
Mikasa is kneeling down at the base of the tree, her shoulders hunched forward. He doesn't want to bother her, so he stands there, runs a hand through his hair, completely disheveled now. So much for making a good impression.
"Hi," she greets, her voice quiet as always. Reiner smiles to himself, clearing his throat before reciprocating.
"Hello," he murmurs, though he doesn't budge. It feels odd seeing her again after three years, but at the same time it feels like barely a day has passed, the only indication being Mikasa's hair, now so long she wears it in a ponytail.
When she's done, she stands back up and turns around: her shoulders aren't hunched anymore, she straightens her back out of habit, and the wind blows her hair all over her face, though it does nothing to hide her red rimmed eyes. The small smile she offers is genuine, if a bit wobbly.
It lasts for barely a couple of seconds, though. "Where are Armin and the others?" she asks, furrowing her brows, and it brings Reiner back to their trainee days, when she'd ask around the barracks at the weirdest times of the day, where is-
"Back at the hotel," he sighs, cutting off his train of thoughts, "they needed some rest."
"And you didn't," points out Mikasa immediately, less distressed now that the situation is clearer: some habits truly die hard.
Reiner shrugs, Mikasa walking past him and sitting down, her back against the trunk, so that Reiner can finally see what she was doing: there's a small tombstone there, a lone dried rose in front of it.
Out of respect, Reiner turns away and doesn't read the inscription: he walks to the other side, sitting far enough from Mikasa so they won't accidentally bump against each other.
"We're meeting with your Queen tomorrow," he explains, smoothing his trousers over his thighs as he sits cross-legged, Mikasa's quiet, brief chuckle not escaping him.
"I see," she deadpans immediately after.
Reiner considers his options: he doesn't know how Mikasa is doing now, but there's no harm in trying to make this conversation less awkward. "That's why I shaved, to make a good impression."
"I see," she repeats, this time with more decision, and Reiner turns around to see her lips curving slightly behind her well worn scarf.
"No, you don't," challenges Reiner, his own brand of smile pulling at his mouth, "you're just taking the piss."
The way Reiner's Marleyan accent pops out in his particularly animated answer seems to have caught her off guard: Mikasa's eyes widen slightly, as if Reiner's voice distracted her from something, probably from her thoughts. She recovers quickly though, as she always did.
"You wanted to see him?" she asks, her question running down Reiner's spine like cold water, freezing his skin. "Is that why you came here on your own?"
Straight to the point, typical of Mikasa in her trainee days. Reiner holds onto this familiar sort of interaction and tries to work with it, just like his counselor told him during their sessions. "Yeah, that's one of the reasons."
"What are the others?"
Reiner turns towards the Shiganshina crater, still visible at this distance, squinting at it. The view dries his throat, so he fights it by looking back at Mikasa, finding her gaze directed back at him.
A sudden flash of limping legs, a broken voice calling out to him, Falco's mindless Titan rushing off towards- "I can't stand walking through those streets."
No answer: Mikasa lowers her head, Reiner waiting for her to signal that she's willing to continue the conversation. It's a touchy subject for them both, much like the small gravestone that Reiner refuses to look at.
"There's no name on it," says Mikasa, her voice a whisper, tangled between the soft whistling breeze. "So he can rest easy."
"Good thinking," offers Reiner in a dry voice, looking up at the leaves, barely dancing as the wind calms down, then picks up again.
The conversation stops there, so Reiner turns to look at her: Mikasa is smiling at nothing in particular, picking grass around her to keep her hands busy. Years have passed, but this feeling always stays the same: everything on Paradis is easier, simpler, free.
He'll never forget how hard they had to fight when setting up the memorial back in Liberio, last year, all to get the names of the other warriors engraved in stone, as they deserved. All of them.
Though Reiner knows, and he sighs, staring as Mikasa pulls out the tufts of grass with increasing dedication, he can't bear to look at one name in particular. He supposes it's partly the reason why Mikasa chose to omit it.
"What did he show you?" she wonders, her tone airy, and she turns her head, Reiner pretending not to notice as she wipes her eyes with her free hand.
The wind picks up, again: Reiner sighs, his stomach curling up on itself, bangs whipping back against his forehead. He remembers all of it, and at the same time it feels like a distant recurring dream he used to have.
"Nothing in particular," he answers eventually, his gaze wandering over the buildings in the distance, walls nowhere to be seen, "we just talked."
Mikasa nods at his obvious lie, though she stays silent. She's not keen on interrupting people, which is always welcome since it's not easy to have this kind of conversation now.
I had no choice, he'd repeated, taking Reiner back on top of Wall Rose, the morning after Utgard Castle fell, we're the same, aren't we, once again, looking up at him, his Survey Corps cloak dancing in the wind, Reiner holding his bandaged arm.
We're not, he'd answered later, in the basement under the stage, sitting in front of each other on old creaking chairs.
Aren't we, the following question, asked in a deeper voice, a lone eye devoid of light burning a hole in Reiner's head.
No, you're...
What. What am I, Reiner?
A sigh, they stand in front of each other back in Shiganshina as the hundreds of Colossal Titans start their march.
You're the last person who should have inherited this power, he'd whispered, tired, powerless, defeated.
"About what?" prompts Mikasa: he's been silent for too long, apparently. Now she's staring at him, a dull light bouncing off her eyes, as if being here were draining her.
Right, he'd conceded, and they're back in front of that huge tree of light, both of them children, one wears a red scarf, the other a red armband. I'm even worse.
Reiner grabs his left arm, Mikasa tugs her scarf up as a particularly cold and strong breeze blows over them. "He explained his reasons."
Why did you do all this, he'd gasped, tears filling his eyes, his voice so squeaky, childish, useless, you had a choice... you think I'll forgive you? Think again!
He remembers his smile, so wry and soulless, a child-shaped demon. I don't need that. I already got what I wanted from you.
"Were they convincing?"
You understand me more than anyone else.
They're standing on a cliff, moonlight shining on the dark waters below, that night during their training days when they first introduced each other formally. This is when he tells him the truth, when the cracks opened by Reiner's compassion widen and split him in half.
I just wanted you to judge me one last time.
It hurts, looking down into those young grey eyes, once so full of life and determination, now empty, lifeless, his grin unsettling.
Eren... you're such a-
"No," he declares, Mikasa still staring at him, "definitely not."
The wind blows again, a flock of birds passing by, leaves falling gently from the tree on top of his tailored suit. Mikasa sighs, clears her throat, then speaks up in the most awkward voice Reiner's heard from her in years.
"You're crying."
What are those tears for? Crybaby, a different memory, a different pain tears through Reiner's chest, grazes his heart enough to hurt and keep him alive at the same time, that raspy voice he misses so, so much-
"Sorry," grumbles Reiner, wiping his eyes on the back of his hand, turning away.
"It's fine," she murmurs, loud enough to be heard as the wind keeps blowing, as if it wanted to disrupt their talk, "it's not easy."
Reiner's shoulders shake as he chuckles, bitterness splashing on the back of his tongue. "I wanted to see if you were alright, but it should have been the other way around."
Before turning back towards her, Reiner runs a hand through his hair, his eyes heavy with unshed tears: he's rewarded by Mikasa's slight smile, barely there, but it's warm and comforting and it's enough, doesn't matter that by now they're like complete strangers to each other.
"Thank you," she mumbles, averting her gaze immediately after. She looks embarrassed, honestly, and Reiner snorts, unable to help himself.
"I wonder what he'd say if he saw me like this," he wonders aloud, a flash of hazel eyes staring at him, the rigid line of his shoulders as he shoves his fists into his pockets, the ever present blush on the tip of his upturned nose, how he'd walk up to him when no one was looking, sharing the same breath, gazing into each other's eyes, oi, dead last, lips brushing against each other-
"I wonder, too," whispers Mikasa, curling up on herself, her nose sinking behind her scarf. Reiner knows they're having two different conversations- maybe that's how it went from the start. Maybe that's all he needed, now that staring at a single name on a memorial is not enough anymore.
"Did you love him?"
"Yes. I still do."