#n.reply

But when she opens her eyes, it’s all the same, nothing’s changed, the sky she saw only moments before fizzes out, turning an eerie blood red - when she notices the ground is the same - and so is everything else, splashed with the dark color she is so familiar with. It’s red, red, so red, it’s all she sees, everywhere she turns.

Though the worst is yet to come, she turns to her right and there she sees, a pair of clear blue eyes, glassy and unmoving, permanently fixated upon the sky that used to be of the same color, and on the left, a pair of emeralds, devoid entirely of their sparkle, cold, lifeless, and frozen in terror.

She’s convinced it’s not true, it can’t be, but when the looks around - that’s all she can see, and she can look for no longer than a second, the bodies of her friends, family, all that she has ever known, and come to love, strewn apart as if they were ragdolls, limbs in positions that physically cause her pain, visions so graphic that she has to look away - and she is too stunned to cry - so she does not. Sits still, hands limp at her sides, and she looks to the sky.

But she is still human, and try as she might, two rivers are flowing down the sides of her stained cheeks, but she is still silent, and there is only one question she can think of, one word she can croak out, even though she knows that no one is listening: why?

She looks at her sides, and her lip quivers, as she covers her mouth with her left hand and gently closes the two pairs of eyelids, for the last time, and all she can think, is: why?

Her family, is all she sees, when she opens her eyes or when they are closed, for the gruesome scene does not leave her, all she sees is her family, which she never seems to know very long, or perhaps it’s just that no matter how long, it’ll never be long enough: because families are supposed to stay together, and she’s sure they would, but -

She lets her head hit the ground, and she takes both of their hands - which are still warm - closing her eyes again.

I’m not needed. This is over.

And this thought she maintains, when she feels herself being lifted to the ground, lets her arms hang loosely as she feels all of the blood rushing to her brain, does not make a sound as she hears the unmistakable one of teeth sinking into her flesh, and yet - she feels nothing.

“Mikasa…” a voice beckons, from a plane beyond. But it is a soft echo, and she’s sure she’s just hearing things.

“Mikasa…” the voice returns, perhaps a little louder, a bit more convincing, and this time, she strains to open her eyes, tries her best to ignore the pain, and musters what strength she has left to listen, because, maybe it really is something.

“Mikasa…!” it calls again, almost yelling this time, so clear she can almost place it, so she tries, it hurts, hurts so bad, but she tries, again, and again, she strives, she struggles, and she does it again, until -

“Hey, Mikasa, are you okay?”

“…what…?” she wonders if there’s been a change in her facade, that’s what she’s most worried about. Has she maintained the face she needs to?

“You were staring off for a good five minutes, and you didn’t reply when I asked you if you finished.”

Her eyebrows furrow. “Finished what?”

Armin points to the pile of wood at her feet. “Gathering the firewood?”

“…right…”

She pauses.

“Are you okay, Mikasa?” He looks concerned, taking a step closer to her. “Are you running a fever, or something?”

And it bubbles at the back of her throat, eager to spill out of her mouth, and she wants to tell him what happened, whatever she knows of what happened, tell him that really, truly, she’s scared, she’s tired, this, it’s really hard, and she’s sure he knows that too, but really is it her place to do that? Does he deserve to harbor more pain? He is still staring at her, wide-eyed, with a concerned expression, so of course not, he shouldn’t be subjected to this, she can’t do this, won’t do this, because it’s not right to him, and -

“Mikasa?”

She shakes her head, swallows thickly. “I’m fine.”

“Are you su-”

“The sun is almost set, let’s walk back,” she says softly, though Armin’s mouth is agape, as though he still wants to say something, and she understands why: even she doesn’t believe herself.

But after a few moments, she hears his footsteps follow, creating a soft swish in the grass as he follows her.

And she sighs.