7Disclaimer: I do not own the Attack on Titan series or any of the characters.
Title Inspiration: "Heart" by Sleeping At Last
They will always meet on Sasha's birthday. No matter what else is going on in their lives, they promised themselves and each other that Sasha's birthday will be the one day where the old gang gets back together.
Levi's Squad.
The heroes of the war.
Apparently.
They start the night off with fake smiles and empty eyes. Seeing everyone together is like a trip to the past (a dark past that they would all much rather forget).
But still, they force themselves to see the night through.
There's a kind of bond that builds when you only have each other. The kind of bond that comes when you trust someone to protect your back and they trust you in return.
This is what Mikasa thinks as she makes her way to Niccolo's restaurant, each step feeling heavier and heavier.
She needs this, Mikasa reminds herself.
It's been almost two years since the Battle of Heaven and Earth, and frankly, Mikasa has been isolating herself from everyone since that day. She recognized that it was unhealthy and at Armin's insistence, she finally picked herself out of bed and dressed into somewhat nice clothes to meet with the people who she had once spent every waking moment with to having no contact with just like that.
She needs this.
She needs to see the people she had fought beside. The people she had sacrificed everything for.
Right now, all she feels is empty, like there's something missing inside of her, but she just doesn't know what it is. Or, really, she does know, but she ignores it, pushing that missing piece far deep inside her and hoping one day that hole will simply close itself up.
Everything was bleak before and everything is still bleak now. It shouldn't be, but it is. At least to Mikasa. She doesn't understand why she is still like this after so much time has passed. Surely something should have come up to fill the void, but as the days turn into weeks and every month passes, she feels the dark hole growing in her, eating up every part of her spirit.
She needs this.
When she steps into the nicely lit building, she is recognized immediately by the workers and ushered into one of the nice hotel rooms on the floor above. When she is given privacy after being told when and where to go for dinner, she sits with her back straight at the edge of the softest bed she has ever touched and waits.
The last time she was here, she remembers curling up in the very corner of the bed and crying her eyes out. Crying until she wore herself down and fell asleep to the scent of freshly cleaned sheets and the softness of the red fabric around her neck that had soaked up all her tears.
Armin had woken her up and left a plate of dinner by her bed, but didn't force her to come down and mingle with the others.
This time, this year, she's determined to see everyone. She can't hide herself away anymore. It's not what Ere— what he would have wanted. But, more importantly, it's not what she wants.
So when the clock begins to chime outside her door, she knows that it is time to get ready.
After dressing herself in her signature red scarf, a nice dark colored skirt, and a white blouse, she makes her way down to the restaurant that Niccolo had closed down for the night, so they could have free space just for their group.
By the time she got there, the rest of the party had already arrived and were mingling amongst each other. The group is small, but when all eyes turn at her entrance, she feels like she is under a giant spotlight. They stare her down, most of them not really expecting the reclusive Mikasa to actually show up.
She stares back.
It is Armin who eventually breaks the silence and greets her loudly and cheerfully. Of course it's Armin, ever the peacemaker. He brings her into a warm hug, slow enough so that she is prepared, and she melts into his embrace. She melts into his warmth, his scent, and his presence. She's missed Armin.
"Armin," she whispers into his ear.
"I'm here," he whispers back, low but firm. Then, he pulls back and his smile is even wider, like it had disappeared for a moment and then came back even stronger. But Mikasa can see how the lines on his mouth want to pull down, and she sees how his eyes scream a different story. "Come on, Mikasa," he says with that ever-present cheer. "Everyone's been waiting for you."
Mikasa watches how Armin lies with ease. The year abroad speaking with nations and maintaining diplomacy amidst all the chaos definitely took a toll on him. He built a wall around him of positivity, but Mikasa's known him too long and she's seen through the cracks. She's seen the scared little boy, the one who doubted himself at every turn, and she still sees that boy in him… but he's covered up in armor now.
And Mikasa understands. She understands how putting up a façade can help, though she's struggled to do the same, so she won't say a thing. She lets Armin be happy. She lets him pretend like he's alright. Like he doesn't remember.
Armin grabs her hand and lightly guides her to the others waiting.
Jean is the first of them to stand. He gives her a weary smile and after a second of hesitation, he leans in for a hug similar to Armin's. The two of them have never hugged before, and even if there is a hint of awkwardness, Mikasa begins to feel more comfortable.
Jean is strong and responsible. He's caring and kind. Even now, he knows exactly what Mikasa needs and he provides it. He was always like that and she never truly appreciated it until after everything was over.
Niccolo stands to greet her next and they exchange a handshake. His hands are warm and friendly and Mikasa is soothed by his presence.
If he was good enough for Sasha to accept him, he's good enough for Mikasa.
The last person in their small party is Connie.
Connie, who Mikasa believes changed the most from the war. Even more than herself, Armin, and Jean, Connie was the one who lost the most family. His anger towards Eren was justified, Mikasa had to admit, and she knows that a part of that anger towards the departed soldier translated towards her, Eren's number one devotee.
Even though Connie understood why Eren felt he had to do what he did, the image of his laugh at the news of Sasha's death and his unforgivable actions in the Rumbling led to a rift between him and Mikasa. A rift that Mikasa has no idea how to fix.
He and Mikasa were never really close to begin with. They both belonged to separate trios (now duos), but at the same time, they held mutual respect and admiration towards each other. Now, it's like there is absolutely nothing between them, even after everything they had been through together.
Connie sits at the farthest end of the table and nods a silent greeting towards her. She nods back. Empty greetings, like they were nothing more than distant acquaintances. Then, the young soldier looks away from her and takes a sip of his water; silence falls upon the group.
It's Armin, again, who tries to cover up the discomfort by directing everyone to their seats around the dinner table at the center of the room.
The restaurant room is incredibly spacious, but with the dim lighting from the few candles and the lack of other dinner guests around them, it creates a homely feel as they all sit beside each other.
It's like they are kids again, back at the cabin. She imagines the past, remembering how all their bodies once huddled together in an attempt to fight the chilly winter night. She imagines them shivering against each other and listening, amidst teasing jabs and quiet giggles, to Captain Levi, who sat at the head of the table holding his cup of tea in that unique way of his, as he explained the plan for the next attack. Back when they had lofty dreams about saving all of humanity.
But their table is missing a few key players.
She turns to Armin. "Where…" Mikasa starts, but then she trails off. She doesn't really know why she would ask about them in the first place.
Armin understands what she means anyway and simply says, "It's our night."
Though she hears that Annie and Armin are moving forward in their relationship and are happy together, a part of her is glad that he does not rub that feeling in. She learns that Reiner is also doing better mentally and that he's getting the help he needs. While Mikasa knows that those two, Annie and Reiner, were victims of the same war, she still cannot help but see them as the enemy. Each and every one of them, including herself (especially herself) committed heinous acts in the name of war and the past is in the past. But the memories still haunt her. Memories of a river of blood, of terrified screams, of a still warm corpse in her calloused hands…
Armin is right, Mikasa thinks as she takes a sip of water with shaking hands. It's their night.
Today is Sasha's birthday, so this night belongs to the Devils of Paradis, the people who loved Sasha most.
When Sasha died, Reiner and Annie were still the enemy. But Sasha would have forgiven them in a heartbeat because that's the kind of person Sasha was. Mikasa knows this for a fact and she thinks the reason Annie, Reiner, and Pieck didn't come today was more for her benefit than anything. She knows that her group will be meeting with them the next day, but she's glad that the group is smaller today; she doesn't think she'd be able to handle any more people around her after spending much of her days in isolation.
Her wandering thoughts vanish as Niccolo rises out of his seat and announces the food options. There are various options for meat, cooked in every different method, and platters upon platters of potatoes—mashed, steamed, roasted, fried.
Sasha would have loved this is the singular thought runs through every person's head.
There's quiet shuffling and the dainty clinks of silverware as the group fixes their plates of food. Mikasa didn't really have much of an appetite, not that she ever did nowadays, but she forces herself to make a plate.
To encourage herself to eat, she imagines Sasha peering over her shoulder, pointing at a small roasted potato at the corner of her plate. "You gonna eat that?" ghost Sasha asks.
With a small smirk, Mikasa spears the fingerling potato with her pointed fork and brings it to her mouth. She imagines Sasha's over-the-top expression, aghast that Mikasa would dare eat her own food and not immediately hand it over to her.
Sometimes, she thinks that Sasha knew when Mikasa really did not want to eat, when she was feeling down and weak. It was like Sasha knew exactly what to do to get Mikasa to eat her own food and build up her energy… and Mikasa played right into her hands.
Sasha was the glue that held them all together. She never had anything bad to say about anyone in the group and she was always the person to go to for a break from everything. Because Sasha was easy to get along with. She was encouraging and passionate about the things she loved. She—
"She gave us hope."
Mikasa's head straightens from where it was looking down at the food. She didn't realize she had dazed off until Jean's voice brought her back.
It seems everyone else had also been thinking of their beloved potato girl.
Jean clears his throat and continues, "She would always talk about having unlimited meat when we won… and fields and fields of potatoes. And there was never a doubt in her mind that we would win."
Walking around the table, Niccolo pours a bottle of wine into everyone's glass. "Don't worry," he assures, "It's never been opened. I checked."
There's a smattering of weak laughter and then the glasses are raised.
"To Sasha," Armin toasts.
"To Sasha," they all echo.
They drink.
They drink and drink and drink.
They start to smile.
They mostly cry.
Niccolo ends up falling asleep at the table, muttering Sasha's name between his sighs, and Armin takes pity on him, guiding the drunk chef's arm over his shoulder and practically dragging him up to his room.
So the last people at the table end up being Jean, Connie, and Mikasa.
Mikasa takes another weary sip of her wine and watches as the silence becomes suffocating.
She didn't really talk much through the night, only speaking when people directly addressed her, which was rare in itself. But now, with the silence, Mikasa thinks it might be good of her to take initiative and start up a conversation.
They already talked about where people ended up and their love lives (or lack of in most people's cases). They talked about any exciting current events, trying to avoid any triggering news, but that was a difficult feat given that any and all news stories for the past two years were at least a little connected to the events of the Rumbling.
Mikasa tries to avoid any news in general. She lives a quaint life and she feels like she could be happy there if she tried to. She wants to be happy. She just doesn't know how. She thinks that maybe she is lonely, but the thought of being with someone makes her downright nauseous.
"Do you two have any pets?" she asks randomly and Connie startles at the sound of her voice.
Aside from herself, Connie had spoken the least through the night. He had changed so much from that energetic boy she once knew. She supposes that's what happens when you lose your other half. She should know.
Jean also turns to look at her, taken aback that Mikasa had actually chosen to speak. He responds wearily, "Oh, uh, I used to have a cat that my mom had brought home one day. He was super calm in my mom's arms, but the minute I walked towards it, he screeched and attacked me. Mom said he was doing it out of love, but I really hated that cat."
He leans back in his seat, teetering dangerously considering his intoxication level, and takes another swig of wine. "I swear, it was like the cat fed off my hatred cause it would always find me and climb into my lap." Jean shakes his head at the memory. "Ol' Trashbag eventually grew on me and I was pretty sad to leave him when I joined the Training Corp."
"You named your cat 'Trashbag'?" Connie asks incredulously.
"Ah, well, it smelled like a sewer when mom first brought him home and I did hate him a lot." Jean lets out a wistful huff, his fond tone contradicting his apparent hatred of the feline.
"So where's Trashbag now?" Mikasa asks.
"Still alive and well, surprisingly," Jean says, taking another sip of his wine. "He's old as hell, but the moment I came home, he jumped into my arms like the day he first came into my life. But significantly less smelly," Jean adds, "Mom's been taking care of him. I guess she was pretty lonely while I was gone."
"Hmm," Mikasa says, not knowing how else to add to his story; she was never one for making good conversation.
Luckily, Jean takes over for her. "But I don't really have a pet now," he says to answer her original question. "I would love to have another cat. But with the amount of travel I have to do, I don't think it would be good to bring along a cat." Jean thinks and adds as an afterthought, "I have gotten really close to my horse though. Everyone wants to use the railway systems now, but nothing beats a good horse on the country roads to get where you want to go."
"What did you name your horse?" Connie asks sarcastically, a hint of his old personality coming through, "Sewer?"
"Potato," Jean answers honestly and Mikasa smiles appreciatively at the tribute. Connie, on the other hand, merely scowls down at the table.
All of a sudden, Jean lets out a boisterous laugh that echoes through the empty restaurant. He shakes his head at Mikasa and Connie's inquisitive look. "I'm just thinking," Jean says, taking another swig of wine, "that if Eren were here, he would probably say something stupid about the horse being my relative or some other dumb joke like that."
It's the first time Eren's name was spoken that night and Mikasa is surprised to find herself smiling at his memory instead of sobbing. Eren, Eren, Eren. His name, now feared among the rest of the world, is something that is rarely spoken, especially to her. It feels nice to hear his name come so casually out of the mouth of one of her friends.
"Eren…" she says softly, a smile shadowing her mouth, "he did always call you Horse-Face."
"I know!" Jean exclaims, "And it doesn't even make any sense. I don't even look like a horse, that bastard."
Mikasa giggles softly, her laugh like small bells. Jean's expression softens, absolutely enamored at the sight of Mikasa's laughter, and he smiles as well, not necessarily at the memory, but at the picture of Mikasa.
Jean did not really see Mikasa much for the past two years. He was told that even Armin had not gone to see her in quite some time. He knows that some people like to be in solitude to mourn and recover, but he also knows that too much solitude was just as detrimental to the soul.
He tried to visit her once in a while, whenever he came back to Paradis, and she was always a welcoming host, making hot tea and giving him a place to rest, but it felt almost robotic. She was only doing it because he was there and she was waiting for him to leave, so she could get back to what she was doing—whatever that was (she never really answers him when he asks what she has been up to for the past year).
By what Jean can see of her now, sitting in the dimly lit restaurant, her cheeks seem hollower, her eyes have dark bags under them that look like they have been there for quite some time, and it seems like she has lost a lot of weight. Too much weight. Like all the Ackerman strength had been sucked right out of her.
There is a kind of dread that follows Mikasa, Jean notices, but when she laughs, the darkness covering her shreds to pieces and Jean is able to see the light that shines beneath. There is still hope for Mikasa Ackerman.
He wishes he could see her laugh forever… even if it means bringing up the memory of Eren Yeager.
Jean chuckles. "Remember when Eren—"
Connie slams his hands on the table and the cutlery and glasses shake, teetering dangerously and threatening to fall.
"Yeah, keep fucking laughing," he growls. "Keep fucking laughing at Eren and everything he fucking does. Like he didn't just kill most of the goddamn world."
"Connie…" Jean begins cautiously, setting his wine glass down.
"What?" Connie snaps, and Mikasa is grateful that the restaurant is empty except for them. "What do you want to say, Jean? He's fucking dead, but that doesn't mean we should be grateful to him for going behind our backs to save us by committing mass genocide. We shouldn't pretend like he was a good fucking person after everything he's done."
Connie stands to his feet, albeit a little shakily. "Are you going to defend him? Defend Eren?" He sneers the last word out like it was a poison. "I don't fucking get how you two can talk about him like he ever really gave a shit about us. If he did, he would have talked to us and asked us what the fuck we even wanted. Certainly not for him to kill of the rest of the fucking world. Even you, Mikasa." He narrows his gaze at her and Mikasa resists the urge to shrink away.
"Is this what you wanted, Mikasa? Are you happy?" Connie stares down at her and Mikasa's hands begin to tremble. She clutches them tightly in her lap to still its motion.
"Of course I'm not happy, Connie." Mikasa thinks back to Armin's fake smiles and Niccolo's heartbroken dreams for Sasha. "Are any of us actually happy here?"
"Are you unhappy that most of the world is dead or that your precious Eren is?"
The guilt she's spent the past two years trying to push down resurfaces. Mikasa doesn't answer his question. She does not have an answer.
"I thought so." He grabs the bottles of wine, one in each hand, and leaves the room without another word.
And now it's just Jean and Mikasa.
"He didn't mean what he said, Mikasa," Jean comforts gently.
"No, he did," Mikasa replies bluntly. She doesn't blame Connie for his outburst and she can't find it in herself to be angry. Really, she can't really find it in herself to feel much of anything these days, so she'd rather not waste what she has on such virulent emotions. "I think I'm gonna go talk to him."
She gets up from her seat, but Jean reaches a hand out to stop her. "I know you want to help, but you're probably the last person he wants to talk to."
"If I don't do this now, I don't think I'll ever get the chance again and… and I can't lose any more family."
Jean pulls his hand back and offers her an encouraging smile along with another bottle of wine off the rolling cart. "For good luck."
"Thank you, Jean," she says, and she hopes that he understands that it was not just about the wine.
Once she finds the right room number, Mikasa knocks once and then twice on the thick door frame. She pauses and says, "It's me."
She hears some shuffling behind the door and it opens just an inch. He gives her a glare. "You are the last person I want to see right now."
"So I've been told," Mikasa responds wryly and with the little Ackerman strength she has left in her, she pushes the door wider and walks in, leaving Connie to stare in shock at her insistent form.
His room has a bed and a two person couch, so Mikasa settles herself down on the couch and looks him straight in the eye.
Trying his best to avoid eye contact, Connie takes a long drink straight out of his bottle and plops himself on the bed so that he is resting across from her. "What is it?"
"I hate him too," Mikasa blurts out. "I hate Eren."
Connie pauses, surprised to hear those words from her mouth, but then he shakes his head and lets out a bleak chuckle. "No, you don't."
Yeah, she didn't really believe herself either.
"I should," is her response.
A hum is what she hears back from Connie as he's too busy trying to drink himself into oblivion to give her a proper response.
"If you could bring back your entire family or you could bring back the rest of the world, what would you do?" Mikasa asks. "Who would you pick if you could bring back Sasha or the rest of the world?"
Connie imagines hugging his family once more. He imagines running up to Sunny and Martin and tackling them to the floor as they squirm and laugh under him. His mom brightens at the sight of father returning home. He hugs his wife and twirls her in a circle before giving her a loud and exaggerated kiss, which causes Connie and his siblings to cover their eyes and squeal at the sight.
Sasha is there too. She's jumping excitedly, a turkey leg in her hand, and she's talking to him about the most mundane things, but by her expression, one would think it was the most exciting news in the whole world. Although to be honest, he doesn't really care what Sasha says, he just wants to hear her voice one more time.
In reality, it's just Connie and mom. Barely.
Connie's mother is silent most days. She sits at the table, not moving and not making a sound, until Connie comes home and takes care of her. Sometimes, she looks at Connie curiously, with distant eyes and an open mouth, as if she has no recognition of the son she raised for most his life. Like she is still seeing him through Titan eyes.
Sometimes, she would revert back to a time when everything was alright and those days were almost as painful as the days of quiet.
"Where's your father, Connie dear?" she asks brightly from the kitchen. "I'm making his favorite, so we should all eat before the food gets cold."
Connie swallows back a sob. "He'll be home soon, mom."
"Good, good." Connie's mother hums an old lullaby that she used to sing to put him to sleep when he was a child. "Go tell Sunny and Martin to wash up before dinner, okay?"
"Yes, mom."
"Such a good boy."
He would give anything to have his family back. Anything to get Sasha back. But could that "anything" be the rest of the world? The lives of completely innocent men, women, and children? Was that a sacrifice he could really make?
He thinks of dragging Falco away to trade the young boy's life for his mother's and he thinks of how desperate he was to save his last remaining kin. He thinks of shooting his friends dead, the ones he had worked and trained side-by-side with for years, only to turn on them for the sake of humanity.
He's been on both sides of the dilemma. He's hated both sides.
The rest of the world is already dead, Connie bitterly concludes, so what's the point of this hypothetical?
"Eren had to choose between us and the rest of the world," Mikasa says after Connie's long silence. "He chose us and you might think that it was a terrible choice and… I'd probably agree, but would you say that you wouldn't make the same choice if you had the chance?"
"I wouldn't," Connie says gruffly, but his voice comes out more hesitant than he expected.
Mikasa lets out a breathy laugh. "Maybe. Maybe you wouldn't have made that choice. But Eren's selfish. He always has been. For the people he loves, he would give his own humanity to save us. The decision wasn't easy for him, you know?"
At her last statement, Connie scoffs, "Yeah, I'd hope killing billions of innocent lives wouldn't be a walk in the park. But Eren probably did it with ease. He probably laughed about it while he did so." The image of Eren after Sasha's death flashed briefly in his mind.
"He… he laughs when he's hurting," Mikasa reveals. Because she finally realizes the root of Connie's bitterness. "Ever since we were kids. When he was in so much pain that his mind couldn't really process it, he laughed."
It hurt to bring up such painful and raw memories, but she had to for Connie's sake. He had to understand.
"When Hannes died…" She imagines the field, the bright sun, and the pretty blue bellflowers; anything but his face. "He laughed. He laughed so hard that tears started falling from his eyes and then he sobbed. He wasn't happy, Connie. I can't even think of the last time Eren ever laughed that hard because he was happy."
Connie remains silent, taking in her words, so she continues, her eyes looking down at her fingers fidgeting in her lap. "I think it was how he dealt with everything. When Reiner revealed that he and Bertholdt were the titans, he laughed at first because he just couldn't believe it. And… when Sasha died, I know from the bottom of my heart that he was absolutely devastated. He loved her just as much as we did. He cared for her and he cared for us—"
"More than anything. I know, Mikasa." She looks up to meet his eyes and he resignedly says again, "I know."
"I think a part of me always knew. I've been going to therapy recently." Connie puts down his bottle of wine on the bedside dresser and swings his legs over so his feet rest on the edge of the bed. "It's been… helpful, I think, and I am, or at least I hope I'm slowly getting better. I'm learning to deal with everything and move on, you know?"
Mikasa doesn't. But she wants to, so she listens.
"My therapist has been telling me about coping mechanisms and how to live with grief and- and maybe Eren…" Connie shakes his head and lets out a watery sigh. "Fuck. I shouldn't defend him. I shouldn't, Mikasa, but some days it's so hard to see him as a monster when he was our friend and he… Fuck." Slowly, the calculated watery sighs, in and out, break composure and he lets out a broken sob. "He did it for us, but are our lives really worth it, Mikasa? Because it sure as hell doesn't feel like it."
She should tell him that they have to make their lives worth it. She should tell him that Eren would have wanted them to live their lives to the fullest to make up for what he had done. She should tell him that to Eren, their lives were worth the death of billions, like that would make up for it. She should tell him a lot of things. She should be encouraging. She should give him hope. She should—
"I don't know, Connie," is what she says instead.
They spend the rest of the night drinking—just the two of them.
They drink and reminisce about the old training days, something they distortedly refer to as the good ol' days. They laugh about their escapades when they were young teenagers. Like the times Sasha snuck into the kitchen for a late night snack, or the time Jean painted the most unflattering image of Commander Shadis, only for the older man to find out about it and make Jean run laps until he dropped.
They even laugh about older memories of Hannah and Franz, and how all the cadets, boys and girls alike, had to team up to come up with excuses to Shadis so the two lovers could sneak off for some alone time. Mikasa brings up how Mina used to braid all the girls' hair in the bunkers and how each one had a unique design that Mina thought looked best on them. Connie brings up how Thomas had made a list that ranked the girls based on looks; he receives a light smack to the shoulder for that, even after he told Mikasa that she was ranked in the top five.
They laugh at the old memories and the old friends; laughing until they cry.
Eventually, the night takes a turn and the bond that was once built through sheer survival and desperation makes its way into something beautiful.
Tears are certainly shed. But they are not tears of sadness. Not necessarily. Tears of the past. Tears of nostalgia, and even relief. Tears of life. Their tears are proof that they are still alive when so many are not. We're here, they cry. We wish you were too.
When midnight strikes, they're both lying down. The bottles of wine are finished, lying haphazardly off to the side with only a few drops leaking out. Mikasa is sprawled out on the bed which Connie offered up for her to sleep in for the night and she accepted, feeling much too drowsy and drunk to make her way safely to her own room only a couple of steps down the hall.
Connie is laid out on the floor right beside the bed, the couch all but forgotten, and both of them stare straight up at the ceiling. He watches the painted decorations on the ceiling swirl around and around making him feel dizzy.
He is just about to reach up to grab the ceiling swirly that was taunting him when he feels Mikasa's hand drop lower off the bed to search for him. Connie gently holds her hand with his, latching onto her warmth, and then he sighs.
The two of them lay like that in comfortable silence.
"Mikasa," he says so low that he wasn't sure if she really heard him.
"Hmm?" she whispers a moment later.
There's silence and Connie shuts his eyes, finally feeling sleep settle on him like a warm hug.
"Connie," Mikasa whispers again.
"What?" he whispers back.
"What?" Mikasa repeats.
"What?"
"Eh?"
"Eh?" Connie wiggles, making himself more comfortable on the carpeted floor, and they giggle together, much too drunk out of their minds to actually hold a full conversation.
"Hmm," Mikasa's eyes flutter shut and her mind starts to drift off again.
"Hmm," Connie lets out a shaky breath and the final tear of the night escapes his right eye, running down the side of his face as he tilts his head back. "Mikasa, do you think there's meat in the afterlife?"
Silence; he thinks that maybe she's fallen asleep.
"I hope so, Connie."
Author's Note: I wanted to explore the character's emotions and any lingering bitter feelings post-Rumbling a little deeper and this is what came from that.
If you enjoyed reading this one shot and you have time, please leave a review and let me know your thoughts!
-Basil