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Summary
It doesn’t seem plausible, really, having everything you’ve ever wanted. Mikasa had learned the hard way—don’t expect happiness. Expect desperation, sacrifices, grief suppressed in her throat that threatened to silence her voice. After her parent’s murder—a hate crime she had survived by sheer luck, or, more accurately, the boy next door’s quick thinking—she never thought she’d know joy again. How could she?
But, somehow, miraculously, she sits on a new velvet couch that melts her like butter in a frying pan, watching Jean and Eren struggle to position the also new mahogany coffee table.
They’re so stupid. Utterly incompetent, if Mikasa’s being honest. But they’re hers. There’s that forbidden joy again, brimming under the skin of her chest.