Mikasa's POV
Everything had changed drastically since our return. The scout mission to retrieve Eren had been a grim success. Eren was pulled back from the clutches of the enemy, but at a steep price—Ymir had been captured by Reiner and Bertholdt, taken to some unknown place beyond the walls.
The mission had also left Commander Erwin grievously injured, losing his arm in a desperate act to ensure Eren's safety. The victory felt hollow, overshadowed by the sacrifices that came with it.
Meanwhile, Connie's theory about the titans being humans weighed heavily on everyone. His visit to Ragako had left him shaken, especially after seeing an undeveloped titan that eerily resembled his mother, sharing her eyes and hair.
What was once a distant possibility now loomed over us like a sinister truth. Hange and Erwin delved into the implications, linking Connie's findings to the attack on Wall Rose—an attack that had no visible breach.
The mere suggestion sent shockwaves through our ranks. Many dismissed it as absurd, unwilling to face such a horrifying reality, but some began to believe. Hange threw herself into relentless research, her usual excitement tempered by the weight of the discovery.
Levi, on the other hand, seemed caught between shock and a rare, fragile happiness. Petra, who had barely survived the mission, it turned out while the doctors checked her injuries it was revealed that she was pregnant.
The news stunned Levi, shaking his usual stoic demeanor. For the first time, I saw Levi cry—not tears of pain, but of quiet joy. It was a side of him I never thought existed. Despite the chaos surrounding us, his happiness was genuine, a small spark of hope amidst the darkness.
But none of that mattered as much to me as Eren.
Eren, he broke me entirely. He had cut himself off from everyone, retreating into a suffocating silence that none of us could breach. The guilt consumed him, crushing him under the weight of all the lives lost to bring him back.
I grieved for the fallen, but Eren was drowning in something far worse—a spiral of self-loathing and despair. He barely spoke, barely ate, and the light in his emerald eyes dimmed as days turned into weeks.
The last time I saw him smile was when Levi found out about Petra's pregnancy. Even then, it wasn't the same. It was fleeting, like a memory of someone he used to be.
Eren seemed happy then, hugging both Levi and Petra, congratulating them with a smile that felt so real it could have fooled anyone.
But I knew better. Behind that fleeting joy was a mask, a veil to hide the pain eating away at him. However, this change only begin to appear after we returned from the walls. It wasn't until the funeral that he finally broke.
That day is seared into my head like a bitter memory... The day his words tore me apart.
The rain fell relentlessly, as if the heavens themselves mourned alongside us. It soaked through our cloaks, clinging to us like the grief weighing on everyone's shoulders.
The cries of the bereaved echoed across the field, raw and unrelenting. Families knelt beside battered bodies, pressing tender kisses to cold foreheads, whispering final goodbyes. Others stood empty-handed, weeping for children swallowed whole by titan jaws, with no remains to bury.
Amid the wails and the rain, Eren stood apart. His posture was rigid, his expression blank, but his emerald eyes—those eyes told a different story. He stared at the grieving families, his hands trembling at his sides. Their pain was a mirror, and in that reflection, he saw himself as the cause of it all.
Then.... out of the crowd, a girl no bigger than me broke through. Her blue eyes, bloodshot and swollen, burned with fury as tears streamed down her face. Her teeth were clenched, her small hands gripping a dagger so tightly her knuckles were white. Before anyone could stop her, she lunged at Eren.
The blade pierced his chest with all the force her fragile body could muster.
The moment was frozen, the world seeming to hold its breath as Eren staggered slightly, but he didn't cry out or flinch. He just stood there, his blood spilling onto the rain-soaked earth, mingling with the mud.
The lightning illuminated the scene, casting jagged shadows across his face. His eyes were dark, unyielding, as he looked down at the girl.
"You..." she sobbed, her voice breaking as the dagger trembled in her hands. "It's your fault my brother died... Your fault… He's gone… because of you!"
I froze, my heart shattering into a thousand pieces. Tears welled in my eyes, anger bubbling beneath the surface. I wanted to scream, to run to his side, to pull that girl away and shield him from her rage. But before I could move, Eren raised a hand—a silent gesture for all of us to stay back.
The girl collapsed to her knees, the dagger slipping from her grip as she clung to him, her small body wracked with sobs. Eren lowered himself, gently wrapping his arms around her. He didn't say a word at first, just held her as she cried, her bloody hands clutching his back.
Then, with a faint, broken smile, he whispered, "I'm sorry." His voice was soft, carried away by the rain, but the weight of it struck like thunder.
I stood frozen, my fists clenched so tightly they ached. Tears spilled down my face as I watched him— This wasn't his fault. None of it was his fault.
However, before it could go any futhur Commander Erwin stepped forward, his presence imposing despite the rain-soaked uniform and his single arm. He gently helped Eren on his feet, hoisting him upright. His expression was unreadable, a blank slate against the torrent of grief that surrounded us.
I sprinted to Eren's side as Erwin released him, and before long, I was helping him toward the scout dormitories. The funeral was still underway in Karanes, but none of that mattered as I felt his weight against me, his lifeless steps dragging in the mud.
Inside the dorms, my hands worked hastily to tend to his wound. Blood soaked through my fingers, mixing with the rainwater that still clung to his skin.
His face was pale, his emerald eyes dulled like a stormy sea losing its fury. Yet, through it all, a faint smile ghosted his lips—a smile that felt so misplaced it nearly broke me.
My hands trembled as I cleaned the cut, struggling to keep steady, unaware that my own tears were falling freely, streaking down my cheeks and splashing onto his skin.
Eren's hand lifted slowly, his calloused fingers wrapping gently around my wrist, halting my frantic movements. My tear-filled eyes met his, and I froze. His gaze wasn't cold or empty.
It was full—overflowing—with a pain so deep it seemed to echo through his very soul. And yet, he was crying. Silent tears streamed down his face, merging with the rain and blood.
"Eren... does it hurt that much?" My voice cracked as I cupped his face, my fingers brushing over the trail of his tears. I didn't know if I meant the physical wound or the emotional one tearing him apart, but either way, his silence spoke volumes.
His hand gripped mine tighter, his touch trembling yet firm. "Hey... Mikasa..." he began, his voice a strained whisper.
I leaned in closer, desperate for his words, for some semblance of understanding. "Yes, Eren? What is it?"
He exhaled a shaky breath, his eyes meeting mine with a sorrow that cut deeper than any blade ever could. "Let's... just forget what happened that day," he murmured, each word slow and deliberate. "On the field... between us..."
The weight of his words hit like a thunderclap. My hands faltered, and the air between us felt suffocating. My lips parting, "What are you saying?" I whispered, my voice trembling with disbelief.
"Just leave me and move on."
But he didn't wait for a reply. His hand fell from mine, and before I could gather my thoughts, he was gone, leaving the room and taking every ounce of warmth with him, before I even knew it I was crying at the top of my lungs unable to grasp anything. It was all too sudden.
Why? Why would he say such a thing?
The night stretched on endlessly as I cried into the darkness, my chest heaving with sobs as I clutched the scarf he'd given me. My fingers pressed against the small, worn photograph of us, the one where we'd fallen asleep beneath the shade of a tree, oblivious to the world's cruelties.
The weight of his absence pressed down on me like a vice. We'd been through so much together, endured hell side by side. He had given me hope, happiness, and something to cling to in this broken world. And now, it felt as though he'd ripped it all away.