*spelled names are based off of the Attack on Titan online wikipedia* *one shot*

Rewatching Shingeki no Kyojin when this popped into my head. This is the saddest thing I've ever written. Ever.

You've been warned.


Blood mixed with the rain and trickled down Eren Yeager's face as eyelashes fluttered in the downpour. Mikasa Ackerman held him against her, dazed and disoriented. However, no one would have been able to tell if they had only seen her face. It was colder than the bloody roof shingles she kneeled on, her eyes like dark onyx as she stared off into space.


Eren's soft voice forcibly dragged her back to the present, and she looked down. Rain plastered Eren's brown hair to his forehead, and his teal eyes - the color of shaded summer grass, Mikasa had decided - were glazed and unfocussed. Two broken swords rested in his cold fingers, the last he had - a silent testament to his resolve that slapped Mikasa in the face.


"How dare you eat Thomas!"

Eren dug his feet into the roof shingles and began to run, preparing to jump off the roof. One second he was in freefall, his heart in his throat - the next he was soaring like the birds he admired most. Blood-stained streets passed by in a blur. Titans wandered in the distance like towers leaning towards whatever seemed to breath. Screams rang harsh in the air as people - people like Thomas - weren't so lucky.

It was their first run, and already so many people had died.

So many.

Eren thought he had prepared himself. He had rehearsed his first day as a soldier over and over again in his mind. He was going to be great; no, more than that. He was going to be legendary. No Titan would be able to reach him, no Titan flesh tough enough for his blade. He was going to kill them all. Every. Damn. One of them. People would die, and it was a work hazard. It happened.

It never occurred to him that it would happen to someone that he knew.

"Thomas!" he screamed again, and twin pops burst out from the metal near his hips. Steel arrows dug into the combination of concrete, brick, and mud that made up the houses, and two blasts of air thrust him forward into the sky.

His target: The Titan.

It would have the honor of being the very first he killed.


Mikasa flicked her eyes back to his face, refusing to look farther. "Yes?" she whispered. A silent echo that was nearly drowned out in the pouring rain. One syllable. A lifetime of pain crammed into three letters.

Once again, her family was slipping through her fingers. She had thought that she would be strong enough. Hadn't she learned perfect control? Hadn't she been through this scenario countless times in her head - Eren would be too hasty and would need her help?

However, the plot in her end had a different climax. She would rush in at the perfect time, absolutely annihilate whatever struck terror in Eren's heart, and he would say - for the first time - thank you. Thank you for being by my side always. Thank you for saving my sorry butt. And Mikasa wouldn't lord it over him; oh no. She would be content just to stay with him forever, his last resort, his friend . . . and maybe something more.

But she wouldn't let herself think farther.

And she would especially not think farther now.

Suddenly Eren coughed; a sick, wet cough that started from his lungs. Scarlet splattered the air and stained the corners of his mouth as he struggled for every hard-one breath of air. Mikasa's tattered heart twisted in her thin chest as she felt Eren's every silent battle to breathe within herself, each one cutting away at her a little bit more.

He was dying.

And she couldn't do anything about it.


Eren streaked underneath a bridge like a dart, his twin blades gleamed silver in the golden sunlight. The sky above him was a sapphire blue and crystal clear with the exception of a few fluffly clouds, but he could see a storm brewing in the distance.


All that he needed right now is the thunderstorm of a lifetime.

Damn the sky.

"Wait!" he shouted to the Titan - not that he expected any sort of answer. It wasn't like the things had any sort of brains. If it did, they'd be a thousand miles away for fear of his wrath. After all, he was going to be the man to wipe out the TItans and be the first to explore the world. He had promised Armin and Mikasa that they -

Something moved below him. Time seemed to slow as Eren, mid-flight, slowly turned his head downward just in time to see the head of a Titan rocket from the ground like a speeding bullet. His heart jumped to his throat as he prepared his arrows again, meaning to evade, but he was too slow, too slow, too slow. He could see the Titan's teeth sparkle in the sunlight as it's jaw began to close around his leg, and all he could think of was if Titan's knew how to floss before pain lanced up his leg.

He didn't even have time to scream before he slammed into the roof.


Mikasa reached for Eren's hand, oblivious to the hell that was raining down around them. "I'm here," she said fervently, her head bowed down nearly to his own. Her eyes stung from unshed tears and her throat felt as if she swallowed a rock, but she dared not cry.

If she did, she feared that she wouldn't be able to stop.

"Mikasa?" Eren whispered again. His eyelashes fluttered again, and he weakly coughed. "Mikasa . . . that you?"

Mikasa painfully swallowed and bowed her head. "Yes," she murmured. Guilt laced her voice.

She had told him that if he was in trouble, he should find her. She told him, but he never listens. He's always been stubborn, always had a fierce temper, and yet he had always been so kind in his own unique way. 'Tough love' his mother had once called it after Eren yelled at Mikasa for quitting in the middle of their game, then stormed off to find wood. He got a scolding when he had come back, but Mikasa felt like she understood him a bit more. Just a little.

Eren went silent for a little bit. For a second, Mikasa thought that he had died and her head snapped up in a panic, but he was only watching her with those glassy teal eyes of his. Blood stained his face and ran freely from the rooftop to drip down to the street below. Mikasa had repeated over and over to again that the rain made it worse than it really was . . . but she had always been a bad liar.

Suddenly Eren's hand started to raise. It trembled pitifully, and Mikasa realized with painful clarity that he was trying to reach her face. She gently clasped his hand with her own and raised it to her cheek. They stayed silent like that for a moment, lost in thought among the Titan cries, human screams, and the rain, when Eren finally whispered, "Why'er you cryin' . . . ?"


Armin Arlert watched in abject horror as Eren crashed into the rooftop, his leg bitten off just below the knee. The Titan had seemingly come out of nowhere, but Armin's mind had already gone blank. He fell to his knees, terrified.

Eren's dead.

That thought was undeniable in Armin's panic-stricken mind. No one could survive a crash like that and live. And even if Eren had managed to survive, blood loss would kill him in minutes. Armin's eyes pricked with tears.

In the distance, thunder rumbled.

Mina Carolina, a girl who had been assigned to their group, shouted Eren's name and launched forward. However, Armin - even in his state of shock - had already mathematically determined her rate of survival based off of her initial speed, her ability with blades, and her overall skill level.


His prediction proved right when a Titan grabbed the thin cord that connected her with the wall and promptly slammed her into the hard brick. Armin didn't have to hear it; all he needed was to hear the sickening crack to know how she went down. Intense trauma to the head. Massive internal bleeding due to said trauma and the following two-story fall to the ground killed her instantly, leaving her for the Titan.

There wouldn't even be enough of her for burial detail.

Armin raised his trembling arms and slammed his hands against his ears, feeling sick.

And to think that they were going to have a contest to see who killed the most Titans . . .

He was so deep in thought, he didn't even notice - nor particularly care when he did - when a bearded Titan poked its head above the building and smiled at him.


Mikasa turned away from the blood stain that had reportedly once been Armin. She refused to believe the witnesses, however. One member of her family was dying in her arms. It was unthinkable that there could be another.

Eren's heart fluttered in his chest like a wounded bird; one long, painful, drawn-out silence before it weakly beat again. She had already wrapped her jacket tight where his leg had once been . . . if anything, it slowed down the bleeding. It couldn't stop it in the rain, though she knew that it didn't really matter. Too much time had passed since Eren's . . . accident . . . and her arrival. If anything, she was only prolonging his suffering, and the logical thing to do was to put a blade through his heart and end the agony he was no doubt in.

But she was selfish.

She wanted Eren to stay alive as long as she could make him and simply hope - an emotion she thought that she had long ago gotten rid of.

But now that she thought about it, she had hoped for a lot of things during her life. She had hoped for a good family. She had hoped for a warm house. She had hoped - and still dared to continue to hope - that she could stay by Eren's side for the rest of her life.

Suddenly she realized that Eren's blood-stained lips were moving, but hardly a sound was coming out. She leaned in closer, cursing her stupidy, emotions, and any god that cared to listen all the while, and caught the last word: Cold.

"You're cold?" she whispered. Eren's eyes were focused on her. They were tired eyes, eyes that had seen the hell in the world and instead focused on its possibilities. They were eyes that saw the potential in people and forced people to see their own failings. They were a beautiful color for eyes; a rich aquamarine, the color of the winter sky and the deepest ocean. They were eyes that were focused on freedom and humanity's hope.

And now those eyes were going dim.

Eren's eyes closed a bit more and he nodded. It was little more than a twitch of his head, but Mikasa understood. Despite the situation, she gently began to unwrap the red scarf around her neck.

It had been his all along anyway.


". . . and from the 104th Trainees Squad: Marco Bott, Thomas Wagner, Mina Carolina, Franz, Cac Tius, Mylius Zeramusky, Tom, Armin Arlert, and Eren Yeager honorably served in the line of duty, and sacrificed their lives so that humanity might live . . ."

Mikasa ran her fingers against the cold stone. Another tombstone. Another defeat.

And this one cut much too close to her heart.

She gently tugged the red scarf over her nose and simply stared at the emotionless granite. It was little more than hastily carved names from whoever had survived Trost, and every day it wedged blade deeper and deeper into her chest.

Unlike that day, the sky was clear this afternoon. No rain pounded into her head like sharp needles. No Titans' scream filled the air.

No; it was peaceful. Birds twirled in the air on gentle breezes and a butterfly fluttered to a melody only it could hear. Flowers waved on the cool wind, just splotches of color against the grassy hill.

Mikasa slowly got back to her feet and turned towards the village below. Somehow they had saved Trost, but any day could be another brutal reminder that they were little more than cows slowly being herded for the kill. Eren had been right all along; these walls weren't saviors made out of stone. It was a prison and, when the Titan's broke through, they could all potentially die.

Over time, Mikasa had been quiet adapt at killing the Titans. It had been Eren's dream, after all, to wipe the Titans off the face of the earth. Mikasa figured that she could kill as many as she could before she eventually died as well.

Suddenly a couple walked up the hill holding flowers. Mikasa rose and gave them room for their own morning. A mother and father, she figured. A maybe fellow soldiers; they didn't look too old.

The wife saw Mikasa's soldier attire and the Wings of Freedom catching the breeze on her shoulder. Her face paled. "Aren't you afraid of dying?" she whispered.

Mikasa blinked. "Why should I be?"

"Isn't it natural?!" The man seemed frantic. "You, fighting against Titans . . . aren't you afraid of being killed?"

Mikasa had gently pulled the scarf above her nose, her dark eyes a thousand miles away.

"Not if you missed you family as much as I do," she whispered.

I hate writing depressing stuff, but it needed to get out of my head one way or another. Kinda wondered what Mikasa would do if Eren died, and that's kinda what I pictured. Just a Titan-killing machine that wouldn't mind dying if it came to it.

. . .

I'm sad now.

Stay awesome,