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The evening wind gently brushed through the woman’s sweet-scented long black hair. In her lap sat a small little sprout, dressed in a beautiful red dress, gazing up at her with her enormous green eyes.
It was late afternoon. The sun was already tracing its final warm rays across the ground, painting everything in shades of gold and orange. The air had begun to cool, the breeze now cold enough to raise small goosebumps along the woman’s pale skin.
“Mama…” the little sprout called softly
The women immediately turned her attention to her. “What is it, my love?” she asked gently, concern slipping into her voice.
The child clutched lightly at the fabric of her blouse.
“When is papa coming back home?”
Mikasa, who held the little girl carefully in both arms, fell silent for a moment. Her eyes drifted toward the orange horizon, as if searching for something far away. She blinked slowly, trying to hold back the tears threatening to form.
“Sasha…” she began quietly. Her voice came out softer than she intended.
“Your father… soon you’ll see him again, my love.”
But it wasn’t true… they would never see him again.
After they had run away together years ago, leaving everything behind, Eren only had a few years left to live. Yet he spent all that time being the best partner and father he could possibly be to Mikasa and little Sasha Yeager.
The girl was so much like him it was almost uncanny. The same restless energy, the same stubborn spirit, the same eyes. Sometimes it barely seemed like Mikasa had given birth to her at all, more like she was a living reflection of her dear father.
And that hurt more than Mikasa would ever admit... because every time she looked at Sasha, she saw him..
Eren had to leave. The Curse of Ymir had taken him from them, just as it had taken so many before.
Now it was only mother and daughter, wandering through a vast world that still feared their existence.
Every single day after Eren was gone, Mikasa felt her strength slipping away little by little. Grief pressed heavily on her chest, constant and quiet.
But he had asked something of her: to live for herself and for their baby girl.
Eren had left peacefully, his death had been gentle, almost merciful. He passed in his sleep, like sand slipping through the fingers of the person who loved him most.
Mikasa didn’t cry when Eren died. She had promised him she wouldn’t. But that promise was harder to keep than anything she had ever faced before.
Burying the body of her own husband with her own hands, pressing the earth over him... it was a pain deeper than any wound she had ever known.
More than once, she thought about going back to Paradis, back to the friends they had left behind.
She wanted to tell them, to let them know what had happened, especially Armin. But that life was already gone.. they had run away years ago, leaving everything behind without looking back.
Now, though, Mikasa found herself wondering if it had been cowardice after all. Had she condemned her own people and friends out of selfishness?
The thought returned to her again and again.Maybe she should blame herself more.
She had left the island behind, left it at the mercy of its enemies, just to spend a few fleeting years beside the person she loved most in the world.
There, on the small hill where they used to watch the sunset together, the sky glowing in shades of amber and gold, Mikasa slowly knelt and set her daughter down on the soft grass. The wind moved softly around them.
Carefully, she untied the red scarf from around her own neck. The familiar fabric was worn with time, but still warm. Mikasa leaned forward and wrapped it gently around the little girl’s neck.
“Your father was the one who wrapped this scarf around me,” she said softly. “Every time he had to leave, this scarf reminded me of him… like he was still with me.”
Her hands lingered for a moment, adjusting the fabric around sasha shoulders. “I want you to have it now, my love,” she continued quietly. “So you can always carry a piece of him with you.”