#25 lives

Present Day:

Eren saw the tears rolling down Mikasa’s face before she seemed to notice it herself. She must’ve realized now. It’s been nearly four years; she knew his time was almost up. Eren’s sadness deepend, knowing it’ll be another lifetime before he would get to see Mikasa again. He knew they would. Years of living in paths had given him time to see every future, every reality, every universe. He knew for a fact that it wasn’t his first time meeting Mikasa, and that it most definitely wouldn’t be his last. Still, it’s an entire lifetime that he would have to wait, maybe even more if they’re unlucky. He’s seen so many of their lives that he knew they didn’t always end up with one another, but they loved each other-- he’s loved her all his life, couldn’t even imagine himself loving anyone else but her. So, whether he had to wait one lifetime, ten, or even more, he’d search, he’d wait, and he’d find her again.

The very first time I remember you, you are blonde and don’t love me back.

I remember-- it was during the Viking era, and we were sparring in the forest. Our parents chastised us, saying we were no longer too young to help serve as mercenaries for the Greeks, so we snould be ready to serve in battles. They urged us to stay alert, to stay strong, to be ready for the upcoming war against the Saxons and their so-called King Alfred, King of Wessex.

“Woah!” Eren yelped as the blade of an ax flew by his head. If he could watch his own self in slow-mo, he could’ve sworn that it nicked strands of his hair. “Calm down, we’re just sparring!” he exclaimed to Mikasa Ackerman, his best friend. His hands were up in surrender, fearing she might actually continue to attack him if their sparring continued.

“Yeah,” she huffed, her Norse accent heavy. “It is just a spar. You just also happened to piss me off.” Stomping over to him with her back straight and head tilted down with a glare, Eren could’ve sworn she was going to punch him or throw him across the forest. But she stopped in front of him before grabbing the handle of her ax behind him and yanking it out of the tree. Not even sparing him another glance, she inspected her beloved ax-- checking to see if there was any damage.

Eren couldn’t help but scoff. “Why? Because I said you didn’t need to change anything about yourself? You didn’t need to bleach your hair, Mikasa,” he smiled.

“And why not? It’s not like we’re having a shortage of lye. I’m not hurting the environment. And everyone’s doing it these days-- the Greeks, Romans, Alfred’s Saxons. If I keep my hair black, I’ll stick out like a sore thumb in battle; our enemies would know for sure that I was a Dane. You wouldn’t want me targeted, would you? Besides...” Mikasa said with a shrug, her nose scrunched up in pseudo-annoyance. She eyed Eren as she noticed a change in his demeanor and his slight hesitation to continue their conversation. “I’m not actually pissed, you know? Well, kind of. I’m pissed, but you’re still my best friend.”

“Right…” Eren paused, before starting once again. “Mikasa--”

She seemed to know exactly where the conversation was headed, cutting him off before he could continue. “No, Eren, we’ve been through this. I love you. I really do. But not in that way. Not in the way you want me to. I’m sorry,” she said softly as she tried to approach him.

Eren could only back up away from her, shaking his hands as if he was trying to keep her at a distance. “No, I’m sorry. I should’ve known,” he lightly laughed.

It was something he’d always done-- laugh off the pain, laugh off the negativity. He pretended that it would make everything better. But in reality, it didn’t, because throughout the rest of his life-- while sparring with Mikasa, while raising the red mainsails, while picking nettle-leaved bellflowers for their village healer to treat the sick-- he could never stop thinking about Mikasa. Everything he did was in her name, not exactly on purpose, but because she was-- and had always been-- a part of him. She was in everything he saw, read, wrote, and did. Even in death, she never left his mind.

The next time you are brunette, and you do.

I could’ve sworn this took place during the renaissance-- when you were a princess and I was the son of a noble man who worked for your father. We grew up together, and as we grew older, I couldn’t help but fall in love with your strength and kindness.

“Your Royal Highness, Princess Mikasa, are you ready to bid farewell to thy castle and ride off into the sunset?” Eren asked half-jokingly with a smile. He was staring up at Mikasa, who he’d previously helped get up onto their horse. Not waiting for a reply, he hoisted himself up behind her.

“And do what after, may I ask, my Lord? Live our happily-ever-after-- even though we are riding away from our home in the castle?” Mikasa laughed, subconsciously leaning back as Eren caged her between his arms. Her head reached his chin, so much more different than it had been when they were kids. She could’ve sworn that just yesterday, Eren Yeager and her would ride horses together, with her arms around him from behind. He hadn’t been any taller than her, so he’d steer while she simply leaned forward on his back. Now all of a sudden, he was behind her and still steering. How time went by so fast.

Eren nudged his cheek against the side of her forehead, eyeing the dark brown hair strands sticking out of her milk braid. He lifted his hand up to brush them out of her face before turning his lips in a smile toward her temple. “Home is not a place, milady; it is a person. Mine has always been you.”

After a while I give up trying to guess if the colour of your hair means anything.

Because even if you don’t exist, I am always in love with you

It was an odd thing, really. For as long as he could remember, Eren had always gravitated toward the color red. He found the color beautiful and warm, and it often gave him a sense of security and home. It blended nicely with the color of bell flowers-- the bright red standing out from the lightness of purple. Eren didn’t know exactly why, but also had this vague memory of a girl with black hair, gray eyes, and fair skin. She didn’t have a name nor a place of significance that he could connect her to, but her presence, or rather her lack of presence, was just always there. Eren constantly felt like someone was missing. No girl or guy ever caught his eyes. At least, not to the extent of the mystery girl at the back of his mind.

I remember most fondly those lifetimes where we get to grow up together,

when you share your secrets and sorrows and hiding places with me.

I love how you play along with my bad ideas,

before you grow up and realize they are bad ideas.

(And in our times together I have many bad ideas.)

Why don’t you come over today? We can play tag and hide and seek… Or I could even play with the dolls you made. You made one of me, right? Just the two of us.

That was what Eren had told Mikasa a few hours ago during elementary school recess, and while he would normally complain, he couldn’t bring himself to do so. He and Mikasa were best friends again, and even the embarrassment of playing with dolls wouldn’t stop him from ever not hanging out with her again. They were in Eren’s bedroom, trying to communicate with paper cups and string the way they’d seen people make paper cup telephones on Youtube. Mikasa was hidden at the top bunk, her hand holding the doll of herself hanging off the edge and being the only thing Eren could see.

Eren was laying on the bunk beneath, holding the doll of himself in the same fashion as Mikasa. “Ackerman, do you copy? Is the coast clear? Over.” he whispered in his cup. He listened to an attempt at the staticky sounds a walkie talkie would make go on for seconds before he raised his voice to a normal speaking one. “Hey… walkies aren’t that staticky.”

“Shut up!” Mikasa started, before lowering her voice to a careful whisper. “Affirmative. I repeat, affirmative. The coast is clear. Over.”

Before Eren could make his doll climb the bunk ladder, the door creaked open as Zeke entered. “Zeke!” Eren groaned, sitting up from his previous position and slouching with a pout on his face.

His older brother could only smile before walking over to pat Eren’s head. “Mom said it’s time for dinner. Mikasa’s sleeping over. Again. Like always. You guys will have lots of time later to play, okay?” He doesn’t wait for an answer before walking towards the door to leave the room.

Mikasa gets up to follow him, her doll dangling from her right hand, before Eren exclaims, “Wait! You said you’d show me your hiding spot,” prompting Zeke to look back and raise his eyebrows at Mikasa.

It was obvious Eren was just stalling, of course, doing anything to spend as much time with Mikasa as possible, so she smiled at Zeke, bringing her finger towards her lips. Zeke could only smile and took it as a cue to leave. As soon as he did, she quickly walked over to Eren’s closet and yanked it open, pushing a hoard of green tops to the side before turning to look back at her friend.

“There. Your closet’s so messy that it’s so easy to hide behind your clothes,” she giggled while pointing towards the mess.

………….

Unwrapping the bandage around her wrist, Mikasa gestured for Eren to come closer. “My mama says that I have to pass it on to my future kids, but not now. No one can know about this. Only family. Only you, okay?” she said as she tilted her wrist towards the boy, who subconsciously started tracing the scars shaping the Azumabito clan symbol on her pale skin. He looked up, jaws set and eyes filled with steadiness.

“It’ll be our secret. Only us,” he reassured.

Fast forward a few years later, and it was a lasting memory for Eren. He never once forgot that moment, because how could he? Mikasa was never supposed to show anyone, yet she showed him. He was important. He was family, and the same way she protects him, he wanted to protect her too.

He remembered when he would often urge her to not follow him-- to stay in the Military Police where it was safe-- not the Survey Corps where all the danger was.

“I’m joining the Survey Corps. Mikasa, you’re talented and ranked first; there’s no need for you to join me. Go to the Military Police. Stay safe,” he urged. Not that his little speech worked. Mikasa loved him and would follow him anywhere-- even if it was to their possible deaths.

He often wondered how many bad ideas Mikasa would go along with, before realizing that she really shouldn’t be following his every move. But not this time. This time, this one time, he really hoped she still loved him enough to go along with this bad idea. He knew that running away would mean leaving everyone behind to die: Armin, Sasha, Jean, Connie, Hange, Levi, the entirety of Paradis. But he had asked her what he was to her, and she quite literally confessed her feelings. He hoped she would be as selfish as he was about to be. Grabbing her hand in urgency, he insisted “Run away with me. Let’s just run and go, and live the last four years of my life in peace. Just you and me.”

When we meet as adults you’re always much more discerning. I don’t blame you.

Yet, always, you forgive me.

As if you understand what’s going on, and you’re making up for

All the lifetimes in which one of us doesn’t exist,

October 14, 1947: I flew the experimental Bell X-1 at Mach 1 45,000 feet above 0. Just before my flight, you got so angry at me. You called it a bad idea, reasoning that there must’ve been a reason why no one has ever broken the sound barrier before. But you had the same dreams as I had, so despite us meeting so late in this life, you must’ve known that I would continue to move forward and go along with it.

“Are you crazy?” Mikasa yelled. “Are you even thinking? I can’t--” her voice broke and she had to pause, thinking carefully about what she was about to say. “I am not emotionally capable of handling all of this,” she gestured to everything, though wasn’t exactly sure what she was referring to. Maybe it was just life in general she was referring to, or maybe the thought of him dying. She didn’t know, but she didn’t want to ever find out.

“Hey, I’m not going to die,” Eren consoled. “This is a really big opportunity, and I can’t just let it go.”

“Eren Yeager, breaking the sound barrier is dangerous. The pressure change--”

“I’ve done my research, NACA’s done their research… I can do it. Believe in me, please,” he said. “I finally got to meet you, after years and years of dreaming and wondering who you were. I could never let you go that easily.”

“It’s a really bad idea,” Mikasa whispered warily. But despite her reluctance, she hugged Eren, resting her ear to his chest so she could hear his heartbeat.

“Compared to my other bad ideas, this isn’t too bad. Besides, you won’t be saying that after I, Officer Yeager, become the first ace pilot to break the sound barrier,” he smiled into her hair as he hugged her back, before continuing. “Don’t worry madam, I will come back to you. I always do.”

And the ones where we just, barely, never meet.

Eren had been standing in the dairy section for quite some time now. He was contemplating on what type of milk to get. What even was the difference between whole milk and 2%? What difference did the numbers make? Milk was milk. And the cheese. Why were there so many different types of cheese? Mozzarella, Cheddar, Parmesan-- isn't parmesan the type of crumbled cheese you put on top of pasta and pizza? What in the world was it doing as a whole piece of cheese? His eyebrows furrowed in confusion, he picked up the cheese truckles and weighed both pieces in his hands. He didn’t even notice the little girl who had approached him, until the young child spoke.

“I like your scarf,” the girl said. It grabbed Eren’s attention and moved his gaze from the truckles to the short child who he towered over.

“Oh uh, thanks,” Eren smirked.

“My mom tells my dad all the time that she keeps randomly dreaming about a red scarf. She doesn’t know why, though,” she continued, prompting Eren to place the cheese down. This wasn’t a singular comment, but a forthcoming conversation. It was going to be a while before he would get back to shopping, and while Eren normally hated interacting with strangers, he’d make an exception for this kid-- anything to take a break from the million types of cheese that had his brain hurting.

“Oh? That’s interesting. But uhh, where’s your mom? I don’t think you’re supposed to be walking around the store alone, kid,” Eren crouched down.

“My brother went running, so my mom had to run after him. I don’t really like running, so I’m gonna stay here until she comes back. Besides, you’re fun to talk to, mister.” Her reply drew a smile from Eren. Her curious and outgoing nature reminded him of how he was like back then, before he receded into introvertness. He opened his mouth to reply, but the girl continued speaking before he could get a word in. “Did you know that my brother and I are named after my mom’s dreams? She’s had them since she was little and they haven’t stopped. She said that this bird would always visit her in her dreams and it was always the same one, so she had someone draw it while she described it, and apparently it’s something called a parasitic jaeger. It would always bring her purple bellflowers.”

Eren thought that was such a weird thing to say. Not because of the randomness of the statement, though it was fairly random, but because as a kid he had similar dreams as well-- dreams whose vividness faded as he grew older. “Don’t tell me you and your brother’s names are parasitic jaeger and bellflower, now,” he joked.

“Shh--” the girl said harshly, bringing her pointer finger up to his lips. Eren brought his head back, surprised at how comfortable kids were these days, seeing as she hushed him like she hadn't just met him. “I’m getting there. Basically, jaeger means hunter, so my brother’s name is Hunter. And my name is Belle. Cool, right?” she exclaimed.

“Yeah--”

“Belle! What did I say about staying next to me? I can’t look in two different directions for both you and your broth--” a young woman pushing a shopping cart and carrying a small boy chastizing Belle, before realizing the poor stranger who seemed to be caught in conversation with her. “Oh hi, I’m so sorry about my child. I hope she didn’t bother you or hold you up. Belle, let’s go,” she urged. She looked up from her kid and was just about to apologize to the man, when they made eye contact. Belle watched as the two were taken aback for a moment before Eren gathered his thoughts again and stood up straight.

“Hi. Don’t worry about it. She’s cool,” he said, smiling down at Belle and patting her head. Before the lady could reply, the small boy she had been carrying-- who Eren presumed to be the girl’s brother Hunter --spoke.

“Mommy, ‘m hungry. Can we go home now?”

Both Eren and the lady laughed as Hunter gave her a big smile and hopeful eyes that seemed to plead for food. “Yeah, sorry sweetheart,” Mikasa said, before nodding at Eren and gesturing Belle over as she pushed the shopping cart towards the checkout lines. She couldn’t help but wonder if she’d seen the man before. Her curiosity distracted her enough to tune out her children’s light banter as she strapped them into their car seats and loaded the groceries into her car. It wasn’t until she was seated and starting the engine, that she was able to break out of her trance. “Belle,” she said, looking into the rear view mirror in search of her daughter’s image, “What was that man’s name again? Do-- does he work at your school? We’ve seen him before, haven’t we?”

Hearing her name, Belle’s frown from arguing with her brother disappeared as she turned her head to meet her mother’s eyes in the mirror. “No… I know he’s a stranger, but he seemed really nice. Sorry if I made you mad, Mommy,” she said sheepishly.

Mikasa smiled softly, slightly disappointed that her assumptions were wrong. “No, it’s okay. Just don’t do that again, okay? Not every stranger is going to be that nice,” she said before changing gears and pulling out of the parking spot.

I hate those. I prefer the ones in which you kill me.

He was content, happy even, that she was the one to kill him. She was the last person he saw-- the last person he laid his eyes on. It was the happiest ending he could have for himself considering how he was stuck in this never ending loop. Maybe, in some other life, they’d find each other again. No-- he was sure he’d see her again. It wasn’t his first life with Mikasa, and it surely wouldn’t be his last.

Looking her in the eyes, he gave her a small smile. It was peaceful and quiet, and for that last second before complete darkness, they were the only two people in the world.

But when all’s said and done, I’d surrender to you in other ways.

Not that I expected marriage to be easy, but I didn’t expect it to be so difficult for me to have a say, though I could never complain. I loved you too much-- I do still love you too much-- that I would do just about anything you ask of me. Just say the word.

“Best three out of five?” Eren asked with a charming smile, picking up the volleyball and patting the sand off of it, before throwing it over the net towards his wife. She caught the ball with ease as she spoke.

“You said two out of three last time! And that was after you originally said that we would just have one game, Eren,” Mikasa shook her head at his determination to win. “Just give up! I already won twice. And more importantly, I’m hungry,” she complained.

Eren could do nothing but laugh at his wife’s eagerness to eat. “Okay,” he said, gesturing her over to the car. “Luckily for you, I planned a picnic with your favorite foods.” He’s always hated losing, especially to Mikasa, but if his lady says she wants food, what else can he do?

Even though each time, I know I’ll see you again, I always wonder is this the last time?

Is that really you?

And what if you’re perfectly happy without me?

I saw you around town so often-- everyone knew you. You were, afterall, the Princess of Cambridge. It was marriage season, and I thought I finally had a chance to sweep Your Royal Highness off her feet at the biggest ball of the year. I would ask you to dance, and we’d have this connection that you’d feel with none of your other suitors. It was the perfect plan-- until I saw you with Jean. After that, I didn’t think I had any chance of marrying you, not after seeing how brightly you smiled while conversing. But it didn’t matter. I just wanted to talk to you-- even once. Just to hear your voice, I’d do anything for even the smallest conversations with you.

“Earl Jaeger? Earl Jaeger of Devon, is that you?” a voice asked, pulling the Earl out of his daze.

Eren whipped his head to the side, wondering who had addressed him, and realized that it was a small voice that prompted him to look down rather than straight ahead. He had been staring at Mikasa, who he could’ve sworn he'd met before in some other life. He often had dreams-- dreams that he guessed were past lives, because there was no way he could have known what it was like to hold her, kiss her, and feel like his skin was on fire from her presence when he’s never so much as talked to her. There was no way he could have spoken with Mikasa, let alone kissed her, in this life because he was sure he would remember it-- the same way that doing so in his dreams had been ingrained in his brain.

“Forgive me, milady, for I don’t exactly recall speaking with you in an encounter. Am I proven to be wrong?” Eren bowed his head in a show of apology to the young, blonde lady who had spoken to him.

“Oh no, sir. You are surely not mistaken. We have not exactly spoken, I just wanted to introduce myself and possibly see if you may take me for a dance? I have but one slot left on my card. I’m Lady Historia, by the way,” the girl said, moving her head in an effort to face the earl and get his attention, though to no avail. Historia followed his gaze, and found the target. The man was once again distracted and staring at a certain lady with black short hair and fair skin. “Princess Mikasa? I heard that she’s quite humble and strong-- a very good quality that many of us ladies would dream to be like. You’ve talked to her?” Historia asked, trying to keep conversation with the very handsome Earl.

“I suppose you could say that…'' Eren said, still absentmindedly. His feet moved on instinct, pulling him towards the enchanting girl. He wanted to talk to her-- see if she really was the girl from his dreams and if maybe, just maybe, she dreamt of him too. Eren didn’t get very far in his steps, though, because her attention had been caught by a certain Duke of Edinburgh: Jean Kirtstein, Duke of Edinburgh to be exact. He and Jean did not necessarily get along well, per se. They had gone to school together in Cambridge, and they did work well together, though that didn’t exactly mean they liked one another. And Eren especially was not liking the Duke right now, because he wanted nothing more than to talk to Mikasa and hear her voice.

If his assumptions about his dreams are correct, then he was sure he’d see Mikasa again in another life-- one where he may even have better chances of speaking with her. But there was a nagging part in his brain, just like the classical Eren, that wondered if this life would be the last time he saw her. Should he risk it? Risk speaking with her in fear that this would be the last time they’d be together? But what would people dare say? He was an Earl. While high in rank, not high enough to hold a light to the Princess. Jean was a Duke and Mikasa seemed to rather like him considering how she hadn’t stopped smiling for the past minute that Eren’s been staring. If Jean could provide happiness for her, along with a good future-- a better future than what Eren could ever provide-- then it was probably best to leave her be. Eren Jaeger, the Earl of Devon, loved the Princess of Cambridge so much that he was willing to give up his happiness in hopes that she would be happy and provided for.

Historia, who had been standing there the entire time Eren had been contemplating, spoke again in reaction to his obvious distraction. “Forgive me, sir Jaeger, for intruding. I--”

“No, Lady Reiss, you’ve done me no harm. It is I who must apologize; I am not feeling too well. Forgive me, milady, for I cannot dance with you this evening. I shall be taking an early leave. Maybe at the next ball,” Eren suggested, before bowing. He didn’t wait for an answer as he hastily left the ballroom, not wanting to catch another glance at Mikasa, for while he loved to see Mikasa happy, he could not bear to see her with someone else.

Ah, but I don’t blame you; I’ll never burn as brilliantly as you.

It’s only fair that I should be the one

To chase you across ten, twenty-five, a hundred lifetimes

Until I find the one where you’ll return to me.

He could feel himself slipping-- knew he was running out of time because in reality, Mikasa was on her way to kill him. He saw her now, still wearing his red scarf. If he had any energy left, his smile would’ve been bigger but he could only manage a small one. But though small, it was genuine, because there was this bittersweet look in her eyes and she was still wearing his scarf. She still loved him, and her beautiful face would be the last thing he’d see. As her blade neared his neck, he allowed himself to slip back into their cottage life, in the peaceful mountains, one last time. And there she was, holding his face, smiling, wearing his scarf.

“See you later, Eren,” she said.

He had no energy left-- could do nothing but stare into her eyes. It didn’t matter though, because he knew that she understood.

This-- what we have-- transcends time and space. Through every world, every universe, every life, I will always find you. Again and again. Forever and ever.