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She can hear it already. Even over the clop of hooves and the rustle of fabric and the wind whooshing past her ears, she can hear it.
Waves.
She can hear the break of water on earth, the hiss as it drags back across the sand. It crashes and rumbles in the distance and there’s a swell in her chest, a giddiness that has her holding her breath and curling her toes, and she clasps her hands hard against the pommel of her saddle, leather reins digging into the crease of her little finger.
They’ve traveled for days, camping in open, flat fields far away from the shadow of trees or the stifle of brick and mortar. She’s stood under the stars, her gear piled into her tent, her trousers rolled up to the knees and the dew-damp grass tickling her toes. She’s dirty and unkempt and tired, forgoing sleep in order to take in every taste of freedom she can get.
Up ahead, the sea groans and flushes up onto the land. She can see water reflecting the reddening sky, light bursting across the waves, so bright she has to squint behind her goggles. There’s a smell that comes with it; crisp, and so salty she can taste it on her tongue.
Behind her, an eager voice pipes up. We made it. We finally made it.
She turns, and from the corner of her eye she sees a head of blonde hair and shiny new goggles to match hers, and a smile so bright she can’t help but laugh. Armin grins, and beside him Eren is near vibrating with excitement. Mikasa rides to his left, her eyes bright and alert, a small smile gracing her face.
“Well, what are you waiting for?” Hange says, tossing her head in the direction of the surf. The trio kick off at a gallop, careening ahead of her and bursting out onto the sand. Their laughter is soon drowned out by the echo of the water.
She follows, though slower, and the horse starts at the first feel of sand beneath it’s hooves. The ground is sinking and uneven and she dismounts there, pulling her bag across her shoulder and standing, hands on her hips, to observe.
It’s as beautiful as she imagined. Her mind begins to whir, eyes flitting from the sand to the water and the plant life and the small, pebble-like objects dotted around, swirling patterns etched across them. She kicks off her boots and lets her toes sink into the sand. It’s warm, and it fills the spaces between her toes and the creases in the soles of her feet, and for a moment she closes her eyes and just breathes. This is almost, almost perfect.
“Squad leader?”
Hange blinks open an eye and peers up at Moblit.
There’s a shriek and a bubble of laughter and Hange glances towards the water, where Armin is standing knee-deep, his sleeves rolled up and his eyes taking in the line where the sky meets the water way in the distance. Eren is holding Mikasa in front of him and there’s a challenge in his eye - the one that isn’t patched and useless - and Hange thinks he might drop her into the foam they stand in. She can’t help the twinge in her gut as her eyes travel over Mikasa’s form and land on her leg; tapering down her thigh and amputated at the knee. Armin cups his hands in the water and throws it out into the air, letting the salt spray shower back down on the three of them and in the light of the dying sun Hange sees the gap on his right hand, where his ring and middle finger are missing.
The final battle wasn’t without it’s casualties.
With a sinking feeling in her stomach she nods once, hard and steady. Moblit’s presence beside her vanishes and she walks the distance across the sand to where the water crawls up the beach and pulls away again, over and over, and for a minute she stands and lets it wash over her toes.
“We made it, Levi,” she whispers, one hand tightening against the strap of her bag. “It’s beautiful.”
She tugs the tiny metal box from her pack and grips it, eyes on the horizon.
“You’d hate it,” she says, tracing her thumb across the crude engraving on the edge of the box, and a laugh bubbles from her throat. “The sand's getting everywhere, I don’t think you’d be able to handle it.”
Her words chase the tide back into the swell of the sea. No voice scolds her, no elbow pokes into her ribs, no hand tugs on her ponytail. She misses those jibes more than anything.
“We made it,” she says again, and her voice shakes. Her vision blurs and doubles and she has to pull her goggles up onto her forehead to let the water leak down her cheeks. The name on the box is fuzzy, now, but she drags her thumb over the L, and the E, the V, the I. A breeze catches the lose strands of hair about her face and she knows that when she lifts the lid he’ll be caught, too, and there’s nothing grounding him to her anymore.
There are eyes digging into her back and she knows everyone is watching, waiting, quiet as a sign of respect to a fallen comrade. She gulps in a breath and steels her fingers against the lid.
“They made it,” she whispers, her chest tight and shuddering, “they’re battered and broken, sure, but they made it because of you. We won’t ever forget that.”
She glances behind her and her breathe catches in her throat.
Eren, Mikasa, Armin. Sasha, Connie, Jean. Moblit. Erwin. Civilians from all over the cities. An array of soldiers from the garrison, even a handful of the military police who’d given up the safety of Wall Sina to fight along side them.
Right hand to the chest, left hand to the back. Every single one of them.
One final salute for Humanities Strongest.
Hange nods to each of them and turns back to the sea where it stretches as far as her eyes can see. An endless world at her fingertips.
“See you around, clean-freak,” she breathes, and before she can talk herself out of it she pulls the lid back and the ashes within scatter, lifted by the sea breeze and billowing out over the water. She closes the lid and presses it to her chest, the fabric of a pristine white cravat tickling her knuckles from it’s ever-present place in her breast pocket.
Humanity was free. The titans were gone. They fought long and hard and the pay-off was here at last, staring her in the face and spraying against her shins. It was in the faces around her, in the solutes of every person on the beach from every background imaginable.
But the final battle wasn’t without it’s casualties.