Mikoto sighed, a hand braced on her hip as she stared pensively off into the distance.
She was really craving soba.
Summer had kicked into full swing and the heat brought up fond old memories of Guren cooling down with a nice plate of cold soba. Unfortunately for Mikoto, buckwheat wasn't cultivated within the Walls. It wasn't even a thing that existed within the Walls, which meant her chances of having soba in this life were none to nil.
But that didn't mean her body didn't crave it.
" Pay attention! " Green Eyes yelled as he threw a punch at her torso, only to have his arm summarily twisted behind his back and his face subsequently smushed into the grass as he landed on his knees.
" I don't need to pay attention if you yell before every attack, " she snorted as the green-eyed boy tapped on her hand to signal his surrender. " You should really stop. It's stupid— and a bad habit. "
Rolling onto his back and panting heavily as she released him, he scowled deeply up at the girl... who was pouting, eyes affixed yonder once more.
" What's so important that you have to think about it while sparring? " He pouted.
Mikoto sighed dreamily, thinking of the texture of the noodles, the smell of the dipping sauce, and the refreshing feeling of finishing three plates off in one sitting.
" Food, " she sighed again. The boy snorted.
" You sound like Sasha. "
" Potato Bitch? " Mikoto's nose wrinkled. " I'm not obsessed with food, Green Eyes, I just want something refreshing in this fucking heat. "
Besides, she couldn't help but eventually point out as they made their way to the Mess, he'd dragged her out to the fields for a spar before breakfast— of course she was going to think of food.
The others had tons to say about that.
" Somebody smells rank, " Baldie laughed, waving his hand in front of his face with an exaggerated look of disgust.
The brunet boy by her side peered her way but Mikoto was quick to shut that shit down.
" Don't even, it's not me it's you, " she flicked his forehead and then pulled a face as she wiped his sweat off on his slightly damp shirt. " Maybe take a shower? " He scoffed.
" Before the run we all know Shadis is going to make us do? "
" On that note, I'm going to change into uniform before Instructor Skullface bursts in and has a conniption, " Mikoto drawled, pushing herself back and away from the table.
Grabbing the apple right out Potato Bitch's hand before the girl could take a bite and waving sarcastically as she made her way out.
" Bye, bitches. "
—
Eren watched as Mikoto sauntered out of the Mess with a perturbed expression. One that a certain scarf wearing girl couldn't help but comment on.
" What's wrong? " Mikasa asked. The brunet didn't answer but answered her question.
" Anyone ever had Mikoto call you by name? " Eren asked. Mikasa shrugged.
" Mikoto has a nickname for everybody, " she replied her usual blasé way. Armin expounded.
" I'm Mumbles, " the blond sighed, scratching his cheek. " Mikasa's Red Scarf. "
Turning his attention to the others (eavesdropping) at the opposite end of the table, they all promptly sounded off—
" Potato Bitch. " Sasha. " Baldie. " Connie. " Horseface. " Jean. " Freckles. " Marco.
Eren frowned.
It had been a week or two since the blow out fight turned cementing of friendship training exercise and Mikoto, for most part, hadn't reneged on her decision. She'd let Eren drag her out to spar at odd hours, sat and actually conversed with them at meal times, even began conditioning training with Mikasa— who had always been tepid at best when it came to Mikoto in the past.
But there was still this distance.
She avoided prolonging the time spent with others even if she didn't go out of her way to avoid it completely anymore. She never spoke first and always changed the subject when conversations drifted to anything personal. Now—
No one's even been referred to by name... why?
Eren asked as much of Armin. In very Armin fashion, the blond had some ideas.
" I have two theories. Either she's pointedly refusing to use our names because she's trying to subtly distance herself by impersonalizing us— " Armin piped up "— or, that she only refers to people by name when she acknowledges them. "
As someone important to her, therefore worthy of respect, was Armin's line of thought.
Not so much Eren's.
" Like... acknowledges in terms of... power? " Eren concluded, eyes cast to the side as the pieces clicked (erroneously) in his head. " That's it! I've decided! I'm going to get Mikoto to call me by my name! "
Enthused at the prospect, Eren rushed out of the Mess off to ambush— find Mikoto; who was blissfully unaware of the storm coming her way. Their friends watched him go in unconcealed amusement.
" He's totally got a crush on her, huh? " Sasha snickered. Connie laughed, nodding ardently in agreement.
" The idiot probably doesn't even know, " he crowed.
" The blockhead definitely doesn't know— it's so embarrassing. " " Hey, Mikasa...? If you need to cry on my shoulder you can. I mean, I would never... " Jean paused.
In the space that Mikasa once sat in was nothing but thin air. On the other side of the gap, Armin existed with an awkward grimace.
" Sorry, Jean. She, uh, she left a while ago... "
—
Eren's ten step plan to get 'acknowledged' by Mikoto really had one step: challenge her and win.
Didn't really work out quite as he hoped.
" Mikoto! Let's spar! "
He'd ended up in the Infirmary with a grade two concussion after one over-enthusiastic tackle attempt turned into him crashing face-first into the ground when she side-stepped the attack neatly.
He moved onto Plan B:
" Mikoto! Let's arm wrestle! Loser does whatever the winner wants! "
And that's how he ended up stable mucking duty for the rest of the core rotation.
He moved onto Plan C:
" Mikoto! Let's race! Whoever lasts the longest in the endurance race wins! "
His legs felt like they were going to fall off and his lungs felt like they were outside his body and Mikoto was still running. Was her breathing thing that effective?!
He ended back in the Infirmary and got chewed out by Shadis (and Mikasa, and Armin, and Mikoto) for being a reckless idiot.
Maybe, just maybe, he considered eventually, challenges might not be the way to go about fulfilling his ambition to be called by name. Maybe a more subtle way was the way to go.
Armin said something once about flies and honey and catching them? Eren'd have to ask him about it.
Once he finished up with mucking the stalls, of course.
—
" You sure you're not obsessed with food like Sasha? " The brunet teased in a low murmur, tapping on the edge of her paper.
Bored and craving soba more than ever during their theoretical class, Mikoto'd taken to doodling to take the edge off. So, she'd sketched a little bowl, noodles suspended over it hanging from a pair of chopsticks.
Perhaps, she hoped, a little visualization would take the edge off.
Spoiler Alert! Visualization does jack shit!
" I'm not obsessed with food. " She wasn't. She was craving a specific food item and was not interested in devouring the world like the eldrich abomination she was sure Potato Bitch housed. Besides— " I doodled other things too, didn't I? "
The fox mask Urokodaki sent her off with when Master Ubuyashiki assigned her to 'Nemi. A black and gray rendition of her dual nichirin katana. Instructor Skullface with an oversized head, veins popping in his forehead and neck as he yelled obscenities at tiny mice cadets in honor of his latest term of offense for them— 'rodents'.
" Y'know, you're not half bad at that. Drawing, I mean, " Green Eyes whispered as he eyed the drawings. He barely muffled the derisive snort that escaped him with his hand when he caught sight of that last one.
" Oh, golly, " Mikoto clasped her hands to her chest sarcastically. " Aren't I just absolutely grateful you think the world of my talents? "
" Shuddap, " he snickered, bumping his shoulder into hers. " I mean it. You're good-good, like, seriously talented. D'you do it often? Draw? " She made a little noncommittal noise.
" Did quite a bit of it," she chewed on the inside of her cheek before reluctantly adding— " ... Before. "
In another life. As another person.
Of course, the boy didn't realize the monumental nature of what she had shared, nodding in his puppy-like manner and taking it for face value.
" Before you enlisted? "
" Something like that— " she shrugged, pointedly not meeting his searching gaze "— it was a hobby of mine. "
" Why'd you stop? " She shrugged casually once more, adding more shading to the curve of the mask.
" Don't have a sketchbook. " Eren's gaze bored into the side of her head with all of his overbearing intensity.
" So, if you had a sketchbook you'd draw more? "
" I guess? "
" Would you show me? " Mikoto snorted soundlessly. He was just full of questions, wasn't he?
" Sure. "
The redhead watched in amusement as his head nearly slipped from its perch on the palm of his hand. Expression morphing from shock to questioning to excitement, he never looked more like a teal-eyed puppy more in that moment.
Of course, it was rather short lived.
She laughed hysterically when Eren was nailed in the forehead with a piece of chalk by their theory instructor...
... only to curse furiously when another struck her temple.
—
Eren had wondered before he wandered off on his secret mission... how hard finding a sketchbook could be? Apparently very.
In a highly populated area like Trost, it might have been easier but in the little village they'd been dropped in, a leather artisan or a bookbinder to commission a sketchbook from weren't exactly in abundance.
Soon, he found himself away from the main square, where the grocers, butchers, and apothecaries were, and into the back alleyways where the artisans usually peddled their wares.
He'd been passing a shoemaker and rounding a street corner when he was almost ran over by a tall but weedy-looking boy— perhaps a couple of years older than his fifteen— with a large crooked nose.
" Watch it! " Crooked Nose barked as his posse of four sneered in a manner that was supposed to be menacing. Eren scoffed.
After actual Titans these fools were less intimidating than dandelion fluff.
They didn't take too kindly to his derision.
" Something funny, tough guy? " Crooked Nose snarled, pulling him back as he attempted to pass. Eren rolled his eyes.
" You have five seconds to get your hand off of me, " he said. A different one, with a severe underbite, laughed.
" Or what, tough guy? " Eren's temper flared as he roughly jerked his arm out of the vice grip.
" Or that. "
" You bas— "
Whatever insult Underbite was going to hurl died in his mouth as the scent of roses and sandalwood permeated the area.
" Hey, Green Eyes, " an all-too innocent looking redhead sang, slotting herself into his side and wrapping her arm around his.
" Mikoto, " he gasped. First at her sudden appearance and then at her proximity; chest hammering. It really didn't help how she was dressed.
Donning one of her fancier dresses for the foray away from military grounds, she was a vision in a dusty rose tea dress. Looking almost dainty amid the gossamer tulle of her skirt and finely weaved linen shawl that encircled her shoulders, pinned close just under her clavicle with an intricate ruby rose brooch. She looked almost soft with her pink cheeks and artfully disheveled low bun.
She also had a dagger on her person. Two, in fact. Eren knew because he'd watch her slip it into her wicker basket with a wicked grin.
While initially worried that she might have come to scold him for getting into a fight— well, almost— he recalled who he was with: it was Mikoto that had found him not Mikasa. And Mikoto, all teeth and wild-eyed, wasn't the type to shy from a fight.
Rather, she poured gasoline on the flames.
" Make some friends? " The girl drawled, eyeing the group across from him with a barely concealed feral smirk.
" Who's this little lady? " Crooked Nose cooed in a slimy tone. " Why don't you ditch this loser and come hang out with real men? " He reached a grimy hand out to brush a tendril of her hair out of her pretty face but she leaned back and out of reach with a cruel smirk.
" Real men? " Mikoto scoffed derisively, gray eyes as sharp as her words. Eren bit his lip to hide his grin knowing whatever she would say next it would only be gold. And it was.
" All I see are a bunch of snot-nosed children who think because they have two strands of facial hair it makes them men. "
" Why you little— " She laughed maliciously.
" I'm taller than you so 'little' wouldn't be the adjective I use to describe myself. A key piece of your— " her eyes drifted downwards for a moment "— anatomy though... " She sucked in some air sharply and grimaced, eyes widening with the implication.
" You bitch! " Crooked Nose hissed as he raised a hand to smack the girl across the face.
Even knowing she could take care of herself, Eren sprung into action.
" Don't call her a bitch, asshole! " The green-eyed boy snarled, fist smashing into the other boy's face in an explosion of blood and the crunch of bone. Crooked Nose was now Broken Nose.
It was five against two. Well, four against one, considering Eren decommissioned one of them and Mikoto had settled herself comfortably out of the way of the brawl. She just started fights, she needn't end them.
" Remember what I told you— no unnecessary yelling before attacks! " The girl coached.
She pulled out the expensive bunch of green grapes she'd purchased in the square and snacking on them casually, even offering one to a nearby tradesman who'd come out of his shop at the commotion. As if she wasn't watching a wannabe gang of delinquents get their asses whooped by her hotheaded friend.
" Atta boy! " Mikoto whooped, cackling as Eren rammed his shoulder into Underbite's gut, grabbing the delinquent's arm and viciously flipping him overhead and into the ground.
This went on for awhile before a certain scarf-wearing girl accompanied by a wide-eyed blond came on the scene. By this time, Eren'd decimated four out of the five and was working on the final one when a pair of arms wrapped around his torso and lifted him up into the air.
" Oi! Oi! Mikasa?! " He struggled in her hold as she carried him off. " Let me down! "
Taking the cue to leave, Mikoto hastily collected her winnings from the grousing spectators and followed after them.
" How much did you win off of me? " Eren inquired, walking alongside Mikoto under Mikasa's watchful gaze. He (and Armin) had finally convinced her to put him down— so as long as he walked ahead of her and in her line of sight.
" Fourteen pieces of silver and three gold, " she quipped happily, tossing the coins into her suede pouch. It was paltry to her in monetary terms but the rush of winning was priceless. " By the way, what were you even looking for that you couldn't find in the town square? "
" I— Nothing! " Eren balked, spine ramrod straight. " What were you looking for that you couldn't find in the town square? "
" You, dumbass. " His ears were as red as her hair. Him? She was looking for him? Why would she— " The wagon was going to leave without you so we got sent out to look for your dumb ass. " Oh.
" So? " Mikoto prodded his side, impatient. " What were you looking for? " He sighed sullenly.
" Nothin' important... " She rolled her eyes in the face of his blatant lie but didn't push it. Thankfully.
" Whatever you say, Green Eyes. "
Behind them, Mikasa hummed thoughtfully. The dejected look on her brother's face that turned near desolate at his nickname didn't escape her scrutiny.
—
" Hey, what's up with your brother? " Mikoto asked later that evening, holding Red Scarf's feet as the dark haired girl performed sit up after sit up.
As had become typical for the girls, they did conditioning together in an indoor training room every other evening. Though the small stone-walled room was dimly lit and often stuffy, it served its purpose well enough.
" He's been acting weird, " the redhead stated. Pausing and tilting her head from side to side in consideration she added— " Well, weird-er. Than usual. "
Red Scarf paused in her repetitions. Coming to fully sit up, she pursed her lips almost imperceptibly before saying in an even tone—
" I'm adopted. "
Um, yeah, no shit? Mikoto raised an incredulous eyebrow.
The dark haired girl had a different last name and looked completely different from the green-eyed boy after all. Who in their literal right mind with functioning vision would think those two were biological siblings?
" When Eren and I were nine, my parents were killed in a struggle. My family was targetted by slave traders because of... " Red Scarf looked down at her wrist and back up meaningfully.
Mikoto chewed on her lower lip, her fists clenched tight. Mama.
" After I was saved, the Jaegers took me in, " she continued. " Things were different with them. Ms Carla and Dr. Grisha weren't my parents. Eren wasn't my unborn sibling. But they loved me and I love them— doesn't mean I love the parents I lost or the sibling I never got to know any less. "
The dark haired girl gripped Mikoto's hands in her own, a tiny empathetic smile curving her lips upwards.
" You can have more than one family. "
Mikoto gnawed her lower lip raw, eyes casted off to the side.
Sure, she could have. Sure, she's begun to let select people from this life in. But what happened when fate cruelly ripped them from her? What when they slipped through her fingers? Went where she could no longer reach them? This world was cruel— just as cruel as her last— and no one's safety was guaranteed.
" How do I ensure I don't lose another family? " The question fell from Mikoto's lips unbidden.
" Fight, " the other girl replied. With that, she returned to her sit ups with an increased fervor.
Fight.
Not for the thrill, not for duty, not for revenge— for the first time in Mikoto's life, for the second in her extended existence, she had someone, multiple someones, to fight for. To protect.
" Thanks... Mikasa. "
That was the first time she ever saw her truly smile.
—
The next day, lunchtime saw Sasha being hauled into the Mess Hall by a generally stoic— but faintly smiling— Mikasa. The brunette hung off of the other girl's shoulder, feet dragging across the wooden floor as tears streamed down her face. Her rabid howls of laughter echoed around the room and drew everyone's gaze.
Mikoto followed behind them looking like the personification of a stormcloud.
" What... happened...? " Armin was hesitant to ask as Sasha was deposited on the bench next to him, Mikasa calmly taking her place on the (still gasp-laughing) girl's other side.
" Mikoto...! " Sasha barely managed to wheeze. " Mikoto got yelled at for fifteen minutes— Fifteen minutes! — Because she! Because—! She...! She doesn't know how to do laundry! " And with that explanation hanging in the air, the brunette dissolved in yet another fit of laughter.
Mikoto was less amused.
" Shut the fuck up, Sasha! I know how to do laundry! " She hissed, grabbing Eren's bowl of stew from right under his nose and aggressively helping herself to it. " Scrubbing clothes on a rock and beating them with sticks by the riverside is not doing laundry! "
" It literally is, " Mikasa commented evenly as she plucked the wooden spoon out of Mikoto's hand and handed Eren's stew back to him.
" Shut the fuck up, Mikasa! "
" Wait back up— you're being referred to by name? " Eren looked at Sasha. " You're being referred to by name? " He looked to Mikasa. " Why aren't I being referred to by name? " He finally turned to Mikoto.
The girl smirked, twirling a loose lock of hair that came undone from her braid.
" By name? " Mikoto cooed, a condescending smirk blooming on her lips. " Slow down, buddy, we're not that close. "
Eren's ears burned red.
" Alright! If you don't call me by my name I'll... I'm...! " Mikoto snickered.
" Give it a few days and maybe it'll come to you, Green Eyes. "
" I'm only calling you Princess until you do! "
" What?! "