Chapter Text
Three long years had passed since the world had been saved- since she’d buried her Eren beneath the same tree they’d cherished as kids.
Mikasa’s ponytail blew in the wind, and her long hair brushed the back of her neck gently. She never thought she’d let her hair get this long. For most of her life, short hair had been a necessity. She’d never had enough time to be vain, but now it seemed like she had too much of it. Even if only to herself, Mikasa admitted that she liked how her long hair looked on her.
Hours passed, and her thoughts wandered.
The scarf- her scarf- Eren’s scarf- slipped off her neck in the breeze. Mikasa opened her eyes and reached out for it when she saw the bird.
It was majestic in one way and familiar in another.
The bird wrapped the scarf around her and flew off into the distance.
Standing up, and holding back tears, Mikasa watched it fly away.
“Thank you, Eren, for wrapping this scarf around me.” The words were quiet but firm.
Mikasa had never had much time to think about the afterlife. What point was there in focusing all her energy on something unavoidable? Despite this, she wanted to believe that there was something beyond the world she knew, something far less painful.
“Mikasa?”
She blinked back tears and watched as Armin, Jean, and Connie walked up the hill together. Her skirt billowed in the wind as she waved at them.
“I hope you weren’t waiting for us long,” Armin said solemnly.
It had been years since she’d seen him. Secretly, she worried that losing Eren would sever the only connection the two of them had, but it seemed that this was not the case.
“No, it’s not a problem. I didn’t want to miss you; it’s been so long,” Mikasa said softly, with a gentle smile. “It’s good to see all of you.”
Connie smiled and made some comment about the political loopholes they’d gone through to get Armin back in Paradis. The Jeagerists, naturally, had strong opposition to Armin’s presence, considering he was who they believed killed Eren.
“This place feels different,” Armin said slowly, “it’s not like I remember it.” His eyes were fixated on the tombstone that Mikasa carved for him.
“It was never going to be the same.”
Armin nodded, blinking back tears. He laid a bouquet of flowers beside Eren’s grave. Jean and Connie followed suit, and Connie placed a hand on Armin’s shoulder.
“I’m sorry,” Armin said, leaning down towards Eren’s grave. His voice was barely audible. “I can’t forgive you, and I’m sorry.”
Mikasa’s heart clenched. She’d felt the same way; still felt that way. She spent many nights lying awake, wondering how she could justify loving the man who committed genocide to save the few he deemed savable.
(It wasn’t like that, Mikasa told herself. It had been to save everyone on Paradis- everyone whom Eren had loved. But wasn’t one life only worth that of one life? How was her life, or Armin’s, any more valuable than those who had been killed in the Rumbling?)
“I know,” Mikasa said. She looked at Armin, and he turned to see her. There was a moment of understanding between the two of them. Armin had loved Eren too- albeit in a different way. Perhaps she wasn’t the only one who had trouble sleeping.
Not wanting to stay subdued, the four old friends began to walk away from Eren’s grave, and down towards Shiganshina.
“How have you been?” Armin asked, looking at her with genuine concern.
“Well,” Mikasa said frankly. “I have a job, actually. Construction- there’s still a lot to be done to rebuild Shiganshina.”
“That’s good,” Jean said. “I can see how that would suit you. I’m glad you’ve found something to do.”
“You work in construction?” Connie blurted. “But I thought that when ... “ he trailed off. “I thought you lost your Ackerman strength.”
Mikasa nodded. “I’m significantly weaker than before, but I’ve continued to push myself. I’d like to regain as much of my strength as I can.”
Armin smiled, but Jean blurted out “I need a rematch.”
Mikasa furrowed her brow. “A rematch?”
“That’s right!” Jean said, scratching the back of his head. “In cadet training, remember? I challenged you to an arm-wrestling match, and you ruined my reputation in front of everyone! Now that you don’t have your Ackerman strength, I think I’d like a rematch.”
Mikasa almost laughed, but she caught herself.
“You sure you’re thinking this through?” Connie said, looking at Jean with wide eyes.
Jean snorted and shrugged. “Have more faith in me, Connie.”
“I’ll accept your rematch,” Mikasa said, looking at Jean with determined eyes. “But promise me you won’t regret asking.”
Jean shrugged. “All the same to me.”
The four of them stopped at one of the new pubs that had risen in the years after the Rumbling. Mikasa ordered a whiskey, and Jean and Connie got a glass of wine each. Armin stuck with his tea.
“I’m surprised you trust that wine, Jean,” Mikasa said, egging him on.
Jean shrugged. “What’s the worst that could happen? Nothing I haven’t done already. Plus, who would want to turn a beauty like me into a Titan?”
Connie rolled his eyes, and Mikasa took a sip of her whiskey.
“Still up for that rematch?”
Jean grinned and put his elbow on the table, hand reaching out for Mikasa’s. “I’m ready whenever you are.”
Mikasa gripped his hand and propped her elbow up.
“Start on three,” Armin said. “One, two, THREE!”
It was over in a heartbeat. Jean’s body contorted as his arm was smashed sideways into the table.
Mikasa let go.
“Shit, Mikasa!” Jean said, looking at her like he’d just seen a ghost. He shook his arm out and sighed.
“You asked for it,” Connie said, finishing off his glass of wine.
The rest of the conversation between the four of them was lighthearted. Armin explained all the loopholes and agreements he’d had to go through in order to get approval to return to Paradis.
“I wish it hadn’t been so long,” he said.
Mikasa nodded her understanding.
“I assume everyone else is still overseas?”
Armin shook his head. “Annie, Reiner, and Pieck are in Paradis, but they had a more pressing matter to attend to. They’re meeting with Queen Historia right now, trying to determine how to establish foreign relations. I volunteered to go with them, but the Jeagerists would prefer that I’m not involved at all.”
Mikasa nodded. “Do you think we’ll be able to establish some sort of fragile peace?”
“It’s tough to say, but I’m optimistic. I have hope that the remaining people no longer hunger for war and violence, considering they’ve seen the worst of it.”
“How is Annie?” She asked, knowingly.
Armin blushed and went to take a sip of his tea.
“They’ve been seeing each other,” Connie said, interjecting.
Armin inhaled sharply and began to choke on his tea.
Mikasa smiled. Annie had made plenty of mistakes, that was for certain. Her situation was complicated at best, but Mikasa had long since forgiven her actions. She was just glad that Armin had found someone who understood him. If she was being fully honest, she quite liked Annie’s brutal honesty and her quiet empathy.
“It’s not like that!” Armin started, blushing furiously. “No,” he said, after a pause. “It is like that.”
“Who would have guessed?” Connie said with a shrug. “Even in cadet training, she was way out of your league. Well, at least we know who’s on top.”
Armin groaned and buried his face in his hands. This only confirmed the accusation, which caused Jean and Connie to laugh even harder.
Mikasa chuckled, surprising herself. It had been a while since she had allowed herself to do that.
It began to get late.
“Do you three have a place to spend the night?” Mikasa asked. “I’m happy to let you spend the night at my place. It’s small, but there are enough blankets for all of you.”
“That would be great, if it’s not too much trouble to you,” Armin said.
Mikasa waved her hand. “I don’t mind. I live a short distance away though, so if we’re going to go we should leave now.”
The four friends left the bar. Jean supported Connie, who was the most plastered Mikasa had ever seen him.
Mikasa’s place was dark and empty, with plenty of cobwebs. It was furnished only by one plain bed, a fireplace, and a table with a few seats. There were a few chests off to the side, covered in dust. She removed plenty of blankets from one of them and passed them off to her companions.
“Thanks, Mikasa,” Armin said, setting up his space on the floor.
“Yeah Mikasa, thanks.” Connie slurred his words and collapsed onto the dirty hardwood floor. Jean covered his friend with a blanket.
Before long, Mikasa’s former comrades were passed out on her floor.
She was wide awake. She couldn’t get her mind off of today.
It had been a good day, all in all. She couldn’t believe that it had already been three years since Eren’s death. Since she killed him.
It was easier not to think about, but tonight was different.
Tonight what plagued her wasn’t guilt over Eren’s death, but lack thereof.
(Was she really healing? Did she deserve to? What kind of woman kills the one man she loves, and then allows herself a moment of happiness after?)
In her head, she replayed today.
“That’s good,” Jean said. “I can see how that would suit you. I’m glad you’ve found something to do.”
Her friends seemed to be glad that she was moving on, so why couldn’t she feel the same?
Eventually, she drifted into a restless sleep. Tomorrow, things would go back to normal. She would be alone again, just like she wanted. Just like she deserved.