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Mikasa wakes up to the same dream again today.
It’s been a month since its last resurgence, and it never changes. She always wakes up with tears trickling down her face. Her heart squeezes as she feels a lump forming in her throat. She can’t help but choke out an involuntary sob.
The boy, the red scarf, the destruction. They’re etched so vividly in her mind.
His warmth, his last words, and his green eyes. It feels as if they’re part of her despite the fact that she doesn’t understand where all of this is coming from.
And oddly, just oddly… it’s like there’s a hole in her heart every single time she remembers him —even more so every time his grave underneath that tree comes to mind.
“What in the world…” Mikasa whispers and puts her arm on her eyes.
After three months of repeating that same dream, she has thought of many possibilities. She has even done some research about it. Some state scientific reasons, some others more far-fetched. Despite that, she is peculiarly inclined toward the more far-fetched reason —like the previous life theory.
“Mikasa! Jean and the others are here!” Her mom calls.
It snaps Mikasa back to reality. Forget all of that madness, it’s Christmas Eve today and she’s going to have some fun with her friends.
“Coming!” Mikasa answers.
*****
“We’re gonna buy that cake from Ichiro-san, then we’ll go to Sasha’s house. Niccolo will join us there,” Jean says as they are walking to Ichiro-san’s.
“Niccolo’s joining? Great! Food’s gonna be awesome!” Connie whoops.
“Yes, with Niccolo there we’ll surely have meat, lobster, and… oh!” Sasha says, already drooling thinking about what Niccolo might make.
“Don’t you dare finish them all!” Connie says and pokes her.
“He’s my boyfriend!”
“Yes, but you’re not the only one he’s cooking for!”
“What did you say?”
And there goes their bickering. Mikasa has given up on listening. It’s like that every time that dream resurfaces. It is too strange to keep seeing her friends as soldiers in her repetitive dream. She knows most of the people there, especially her soldier peers. Nevertheless, that boy she doesn’t know is always the main part of her dream. He hogs the space in her mind. He’s in everything she does —her reason, her purpose, everything.
“You okay?”
Mikasa ceases traveling back into that dream and turns. Jean is staring at her, creases lining his forehead.
“Yes, why won’t I be?” She replies.
“You’re not paying attention,” he says.
Mikasa chuckles. “Why should I? There’s no end to Connie and Sasha’s bickering, we just need to leave them to their own account.”
Jean exhales. “Well, that’s true. Their argument is pointless anyway, Niccolo will cook for everyone, the end.”
Silence ensues. While Connie and Sasha are still arguing in the background, Mikasa and Jean just walk. The road is getting more crowded as they near the square. It takes all of Mikasa’s effort to avoid bumping into anyone.
A sudden gust of wind blows, making it even colder than it already is. It toys with all of their hair, and even worse, it unravels Mikasa’s scarf.
“Gosh! It’s so cold!” Sasha comments from behind.
Mikasa silently agrees. She proceeds to refold her scarf properly around her neck, but before that happens, she realizes that her scarf is caught on something.
“What—”
Apparently, some loose threads of her scarf are caught on someone’s coat zipper.
“Ah, sorry—”
Mikasa gasps when she sees who it is.
“Eren—” She pauses and puts a hand on her mouth.
It is him, the boy from her dream, Eren.
“Eren,” a boy with blonde hair speaks. “What’s wrong?”
Armin, Mikasa thinks.
“Mikasa?” Jean calls her, which she ignores.
She is caught in a deadlock the moment she holds his green gaze. He doesn’t move, it’s like he knows what transpires between those gazes. Tears have started to sprung up on her eyes. It’s as if everything in the universe has clicked together, the wrong has been righted, the hole in her heart has been filled. He is here.
It’s supposed to be a dream, and yet, if that’s so, can she ever feel this way?
He breaks the deadlock first and starts untangling the threads from his zipper. His hands seem to be trembling, but Mikasa might see wrong. His uncareful hands make more of the scarf become unraveled.
He fumbles and says, “I—I’m sorry.”
He lifts his face and widens his eyes when he sees Mikasa crying. Noticing his surprise, Mikasa wipes her tears. She knows how ridiculous it is, but she just can’t help it. Jean, Sasha, and Connie must’ve been shocked, Mikasa thinks, him too.
“I’m sorry about the scarf…” Eren says. He fidgets, confused about what to do with the crying Mikasa. However, he eventually takes the end of the scarf and wraps it around her gently. “Is it still… warm?”
Déjà vu. A slip back into her dream. Him in the woods, wrapping the scarf around her, his flustered face.
“It is,” Mikasa says, gripping the scarf.
“I’m sorry,” he says and begins to walk away, but not without one last lingering look of remorse written in his face.
Mikasa stares at his back, slowly diminishing in the crowded street. Not again, don’t just leave. She bursts into a run toward him, uncaring of her friends calling her. Right now, it’s a chance she can’t ever take for granted. She is still not sure what that dream means, her previous life or whatnot, all she knows is that she can’t just let him go.
“Eren!” She yells.
He and Armin stop in their tracks and look back to her. When she’s at a closer proximity, she can see Eren more clearly. He doesn’t even seem bothered that she knows his name, like it’s expected.
And judging by the look from his eyes, Mikasa feels as though she knows what he will say next. It will be the answer to her recurring dreams, the resolution.
His voice is too low for her to hear, but she can see him mouthing it.
“Mikasa.”
Finally, finally.