Work Text:
Year 852
Twelve months. It should be long enough for her memory to fail her, where those detailed moments would have turned into fragments, if not, into a recognizable blur, or a junction of images at the back of her head.
But she remembered it vividly, clearly as she dreaded to admit.
The ocean. It was incredibly vast for her not to see the end of it, but clear as a gleaming crystal that she can almost see her reflection — stunned, astonished, her eyes had dwelled a different emotion. One that she'd not expected to harbor. Of course, she remembered the look on their faces. The mask of joy among their hard-beaten souls that she realized the rarity of being able to experience such glee, even if it’s only temporary happiness in this cruel world.
She was contented.
At least.
If it weren't for Armin's optimism, and Eren's distinguished determination, she wouldn't have been able to persuade herself. She wouldn’t have believed that there are other places destined outside the great walls. She would have given up, but every time she listens to their conversation that held more possibilities than her own dream, she was as if dreaming the same thing too.
So, she carried it with her.
“Mikasa!”
It would have been a determinant to an end, and a step for a new beginning. She watched silently, waited for him to share a smile she had been wanting to see that would ease her down, that might have convinced her they all been reflecting the same sense of triumph at that moment — she was mistaken.
For his eyes that speak volumes, unheard but present, restlessly called to her. At times no one had noticed. His green eyes that she had studied for so long, she’d know very well the unspoken melody trapped beneath it. She observed it, looked at it, only to bitterly realize the inner light that had been there for years had been fading. Slowly. She should have prevented it — could have, but it wasn't a burden she needed to carry forever. However, it was a torn in her screaming conscience, an open wound within her unrested soul.
The ocean hadn't changed, but many things did.
"Mikasa!"
The call of her name had always felt so foreign, but this time, it was familiar. It was close to home.
Close to family.
"Don't tell me you would just sit there, under that tree," Sasha called towards her direction, barefoot under the sand. "Everybody's having a great time; even Commander Hange is here."
The latter nodded solemnly, quietly.
"Now, put your ass there before I force you into the waters."
"I'm fine." She answered, silent as a stream of a river. The dry breeze smelt of salt and sea. "I'll be here. Don't worry."
Mikasa heard her take a deep breath, a sigh rather.
If things were a bit different, she would have the heart to feel the calming waters beneath her feet. She would be there, interestingly watching Armin and Hange pick seashells, and admire the way their eyes flicker with that same apprehension, one part that stitched their personalities together. And yet, she was here, together with the shadow of the lone tree near the shore, sharing the prickling burden with him. Carrying the same weight over her shoulders. She had hoped countless times that, at least in a while, he would see she had taken half of his bearings with her, but she never was once selfish.
It was never an easy task but Eren… is a part of her family.
He is family.
"Alright," Sasha said, taking a few steps back. "Should I call the captain, instead?" She asked, taking a brief pause.
Their captain.
Mikasa flashed a subtle smile. Almost unnoticeable, she said, "It's all up to you.”
"Maybe not," Sasha answered sheepishly. "The captain never did like the idea of getting wet, anyway. I don't want to be stationed in the stables again."
She nodded; a chuckle barely passed her lips.
"Bye, Mikasa!"
It was an unexpected development, whatever relationship she had with Levi. But a concrete growth. She can still remember the hate she had stacked for him, can still remember the pounding loathe that seeped in her veins every time she shares the same space with him, every time she hears his voice, or every time he acknowledges her presence with the bizarre touch of her name upon his lips, just because of one cause — his gnashing brutality towards Eren during his military trial.
And now that the fire had long been extinguished, it is not a mistake on her part, not even an immature hatred towards the man, but a grave misunderstanding. She had misread him, purely because of her blinding devotion, and the uncontrolled impulsiveness she had before.
But she had grown, maturely, with albeit fairness, she could read between the lines.
If not, with enough understanding, she believes.
Mikasa’s gaze fell at the further end of the shore where she saw him, standing there with that similar expression on his barren face.
She thought she had finally seen it. Impossible as it sounds, she honestly had thought she can finally read him. His calm demeanor, how his strained eyebrows relax, and the creases that lined his forehead disappear. Or the time when the deep frown on his thin lips had managed to subside. But it was all an illusion when it breaks apart before anyone could notice, covered once again underneath a mask.
She was mistaken again, and perhaps she’d centered into a realization that she’s not good at reading people at all.
But she believes, she did saw it. Once. Twice. She wasn’t sure. The way the heavy strain in his eyes had calmed like the waves of the ocean at dusk, or when the appearance of the soft palette of the blue skies at dawn she heard him breathe a contented sigh. She often asks herself if he could be thinking the same as her, for they have been given the same responsibility, the same duty — the bitter result of being humanity's strongest and the woman worth a hundred soldiers. Titles that defined the measure of their strength but never the ache in the abyss of their hearts.
But it was only a short escape, only a savored taste of freedom.
She wonders if they really are alike — that’s what they say. But she doubts. Numerous differences stood between them. Differences she’d silently listed in her mind. One being he lost so much, lost many people more than she could count in her fingers.
"Oh, Armin, look!" Hange said with delight, venturing further into the water.
Arlert followed behind.
"Seems like a new one. We can add this to our collection tonight."
"Yes, commander. That would be a great idea."
"Oi!" Jean waved at Connie, wiping a certain part of his eye with the back of his hands. "Idiot, you shouldn’t be playing with the water like that. It stings, you know."
"Says the one who drank a mouthful of it, am I right, Sasha?"
Laughter erupted, and for once, it was like music to her ears.
Many things did change, but they weren’t those soldiers before. They’ve been through madness and hell, through trials and obstacles, for they thought their life might be a thin thread, easily cut by death — but they are the Devils of Paradis. A name given to them by those Marleyan soldiers, stranded on the shore of the island with their thirty more battleships.
They detested them — hated them… called them various titles that are dangerously linked with evilness… demons. It was too inhumane. Too suffocating. But they didn’t come to wage war — they came to negotiate. Yelena… she explained to them with such conviction the cruelty they’ve shouldered back in the mainland, not just her life she dared to share, but with hundreds of stories of other Eldians that speak the same injustice.
And so, they seek Paradis and the leaders of the regiment, negotiated once again to strengthen this Island’s insufficiency in terms of military services, helped them construct their port, all in bargain to put together an alliance. Against Marley.
The Anti-Marleyan Revolution.
They weren’t those soldiers before — they eradicated every last titan on the land. Extended territories. Formed allies. They’re one step advance from their once primitive way of life. One step in improving Paradis. One step towards hell. One step at the entrance of freedom.
That’s what they thought.
“— Jean!”
Out from her reverie, she felt arms around her, and the next thing she knows, she was lifted hardly with any difficulty.
As if her instinct had run low today, she had far realized the situation. And far late for her to break away.
“Sorry, Mikasa.” Jean sported a smile, he headed towards. “Seems like everyone agreed to this. It was Commander Hange’s idea after all.”
She should have escaped from his hold, pushed him away with her strength that possesses the Ackerman lineage, but she had done nothing of that when she was consumed by the sight that welcomed her — they were expectedly waiting as if he was carrying something worthy of gold, and Armin, turned around exactly as he manifested a chuckle, holding something similar with Hange. Sasha and Connie were stationed at the center, a mischievous glimmer in their eyes.
Mikasa would have released herself for she couldn’t take any more unwanted attention, but again —
“Jean!” Called Hange, voice beaming with such eccentricity.
“Do what it takes to carry Levi, too, will you? I haven’t done it before, but I insisted he come over, pulled him even. He said he won’t be attempting the second time. The water irks his sense of cleanliness.”
“Hange-san!”
Set of laughter.
“Come on Levi! Don’t ya just stand there!”
Mikasa felt the freezing water surround her past the knee, gently as her feet touches the soft sand underneath as Jean finally let go. She didn’t quiver, didn’t walked back to shore to dry herself with the towels on the far side settlement they built no long time ago. She stayed. Turned a subtle smile at him that painted the understanding they carry.
And before she could turn an eye, watch the event with their captain being the sole target, she was circled by the two, salt of the ocean severing her eyes but she’d give more focus on the occurring giggles Braus and Springer shared than the stinging discomfort she had at the moment.
The play they had was cut short when they heard the commander’s beaming excitement, encouraging Jean as he walks away to meet the captain.
Nearer than he last had been, Mikasa noticed.
“Oi, don’t you fucking dare Kirstein, I bet you and Springer would love to shovel shits in the stable for a month. Or worse, I'll let you clean the whole damn headquarters once we're back inside the walls."
She heard Levi said, closer than she last know.
His eyes catching her gaze for a second.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
The sky reminded her of a catastrophe waiting to pound on her doorstep, but something with the combination of colors, of fuming orange and red, reminded her of today’s survival. Alive… breathing. It was a reflection of short-term freedom, losing herself in the process of thousands of possibilities in a sight of a simple scenery…
Freedom.
Close to Eren’s farfetched dream. Almost the same thing. The difference is, he isn’t here to witness the setting of the sun with her. Not that she expected him to stay — he never did, but she just feels like every time he leaves, he took a part of her with him as well. Tugging a string in her heart. Prickling at the surface of her skin.
And the remains of his consequences are for her to deal with.
Mikasa sighs. Pulled the scarf under her chin.
How long does she have to endure these thoughts? This infection that plagued her mind, scattering around the hollowness of her soul. She knows she can’t keep him forever, tuck him under her wings and her protection — Eren would drift away. As always. And she would be welcomed by the day that she needed to let go.
Release him to his death?
She wonders if ever there is something permanent in this world, other than her endless devotion.
Someone that stays.
“It’s becoming a hobby now, isn't it? You, coming here at dusk.”
Mikasa glanced at the side from the source of the voice. Taken aback but she doesn’t completely show. The shadows from the appearing darkness consumed half of his face, but she studied him nonetheless, a contrast of torchlight from a nearby stand proved he wasn’t looking at her, wasn’t scrutinizing her with the gaze he usually carries with apathy. Didn’t flash sympathy, or points out the gesture he had seen several times already.
The way she slumped further into that red bundle, hides her nose under, and be welcomed by the warmth and familiar scent of the scarf shoulders.
One that depicts her vulnerability.
One that mirrors her fragility.
One of the things he knows something isn’t right.
Levi stared at the ocean far ahead.
“Do you enjoy it?”
Mikasa draped her arms around her knees.
“Yes.”
He hummed. “I hope I didn’t disrupt your peace.”
“I came here to clear my mind, that’s all,” Mikasa said softly, more to the nipping wind than her company. “I wanted to escape.”
Levi looked at her now. Silently. Quietly. Noticing the arch of her eyebrows, or the loneliness in her eyes that hadn’t failed to express even once, deep in thinking as she had been recently.
“Escape what?”
“Reality.”
Mikasa straightened on her seat, not wanting to meet his piercing gaze which she had felt carve into her muscles, accompanied by the chill that traveled on her spine — she felt exposed… raw, every time Levi regards her existence more than a soldier, but a human being. She worries. She was worried if he had seen her flaws and own discrepancies, worried if he had already read her but chose to not utter a word.
And keep his silence to himself.
She dared, finally, to receive his scrutiny in return.
“But I know I have to come back. There wouldn’t be much left if I stay.”
He didn’t answer. As if in the same cue, they were pulled once again by the sight of the calm ocean. The luring sound of petite waves, and the almost faint echo of laughter and giggles of the camp at the cliff above them. For a second, she thought the captain must have retreated, in that stride he has, silent as a moonless night, she thought she could have the shore by herself. She cocooned further, secured her arms tightly around her against the wind that started to drop in temperature.
But she was mistaken when —
“Go on.”
Mikasa withdrew a breath, looked at him for the second time, but the face of surprise had disappeared now, only with the solace his presence gave as he was seated with enough distance from her.
“Do you enjoy it as well, Levi?”
Levi.
Levi…
He propped his elbows on his knees, and let the wind sway his hair. She was waiting, he had sensed it, but he hadn’t answered. Not yet.
This wouldn't be the first time they exchanged conversation, hear each other's opinion, but there's something tonight that marks an unexplained aura between them. The way she questions him. It might be the hue of the sky, the content of her inquiry, or the thought that at the other side of the ocean, hones their enemies.
And not freedom.
“In a world cruel as this, Mikasa, I considered it luck to experience simple things or a foolish fate that keeps us alive through hell. Even it’s just for a borrowed time, but…” Levi paused, pondered for a while. “It will be a lie if I said I don’t.”
“You like it. The ocean.”
“Yes.”
“More than tea?”
More than —
“Brat.” Levi stressed, stared at her with a scowl.
Almost. Almost. He’d heard her laughter, as pure as the morning, and innocent as the sound of the nibbling wind, but she suppressed it with a giggle, inaudible, unnoticeable, nevertheless, Levi listened. And as if it’s a rare occurrence, he heard it. Clearly.
As if it’s rare to see her smile, he saw it.
“I forgot, captain. You wouldn’t trade your precious tea to anything, or anyone.”
Levi nodded.
Something within him shifted that nothing could ever replace. Something that, even given with an explanation, wouldn’t suffice the swell of this unknown sensation. Was it joy? Relief? Levi was never a man that complicates a situation, he was never the right person to involve emotions — he is a man of action. An abnormal. He considered life as a gamble, and always strived to live and be alive so that the death of others wouldn’t be left in vain.
But he counted this as one of those simple things.
Simple things that needed to be treasured.
“Let’s go. It’s damn freezing.”
Levi stood on his feet, trying not to cross the lines in his head. He sensed her follow behind, but he didn’t look at his shoulder, meet her calm eyes, and make sure she isn’t shivering out of coldness. He cares for everyone — he cares for her. But again, there was that uncertainty, like bile burning in his throat that contained him voiceless. He had acquired fresh wounds, that turned into ugly scars and, a stack of bitter memories in the running years. He had meant, not once, not twice, but countless times, to let the fragments fade until he forgets the heartaches it caused him.
But it was nailed in his heart.
And it was a reminder — again, and again, that he’ll outlive anyone that enters his circle. That breaks his walls. So, he built a barrier.
Cut connections, and maintain relationships within their line of profession.
If he lets Mikasa overstep the line, what would he do?
“Did Commander Hange send you here?”
Breaking apart from his reverie, he realized she only noticed their horses anchored around a tree, and exactly reading what was on her mind, he said,
“No.” Levi handled the reins, and mounted afterward, staring down at her with a gaze.
“I decided to come here. Though, we’ll return to camp on horseback. Walking would take much time, and I need you to be in your best self tomorrow for training, understood?”
Without faltering a second, Mikasa watched him galloped away.
She fell into a realization as the captain’s shadow disappeared from view. She pulled the scarf nearer to the low of her nose to fight off the brash wind, or to dilute the thoughts that clogged her mind tonight.
It was indeed an unexpected development, whatever she shared with Levi.
And she is determined to keep it that way.