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Eren and Mikasa Twixtor
The sun was beginning to dip behind the wall, casting long, golden fingers of light across the quiet streets of the Shiganshina district. The chaos and fear that had always haunted their lives seemed, for a few fleeting moments, to have lifted. Eren and Mikasa walked side by side along the cobblestone path, their boots echoing softly. No Titans, no soldiers, no battles—just them and the evening air, tinged with the scent of warm bread from a nearby bakery.
Mikasa’s scarf, the familiar red she had worn since childhood, fluttered gently in the breeze. She tugged it slightly, a nervous gesture that Eren had noticed countless times over the years. “It’s chilly,” she murmured, her voice softer than usual. Her eyes, normally sharp and unwavering, held a rare vulnerability.
Eren smiled, the kind of grin that wasn’t about bravado or defiance but about comfort. “Then you should let me walk closer,” he said, sliding his arm around her shoulders. Mikasa stiffened for just a moment, not out of discomfort but out of habit—years of tension and survival had made closeness a rare luxury—but then she relaxed, leaning into him as they continued walking.
“Eren,” she said quietly, almost to herself, “I… I like moments like this.”
He glanced down at her, warmth filling his chest. “Me too. Makes me feel… normal. Like life isn’t always about fighting or running.”
They passed a small fountain in the town square, water glittering in the last rays of sunlight. Eren crouched slightly and flicked his finger into the shallow pool, sending droplets into the air. Mikasa laughed—a soft, musical sound that reminded him of happier days long ago. “You’re acting like a child,” she teased, brushing her hair behind her ear.
“Maybe,” Eren said, smirking, “but it’s fun. Come on, try it!” He splashed a tiny wave toward her, and she laughed louder, instinctively dodging but unable to hide the sparkle of amusement in her eyes. “Mikasa! I’m serious!” he exclaimed, mock offense in his voice.
She shook her head but reached out and flicked water back at him. Droplets landed on his face, and he wiped them away with exaggerated drama. “Traitor!” he shouted, making her giggle even harder.
For a few moments, the world felt entirely theirs—no Titans looming, no enemies pressing, no weight of humanity’s survival on their shoulders. Just Eren and Mikasa, two souls finding small pockets of joy amid the chaos.
Mikasa finally dropped her playful demeanor and looked at him, eyes soft and earnest. “Eren… thank you. For being here. For… everything.” Her hand brushed against his arm, hesitant but deliberate, grounding them both.
Eren’s smile softened into something more tender, more real. “I’ll always be here,” he said simply. “For you. Always.” He tucked a stray strand of her dark hair behind her ear, careful and reverent, as if handling something precious.
They continued walking in companionable silence, the fountain glimmering behind them, the town bathed in the warm glow of twilight. Even the shadows seemed to lean toward them, protective rather than threatening. Eren and Mikasa’s hands brushed together, fingers intertwining naturally, without words but with a weight heavier than anything spoken.
Eventually, they reached a hill overlooking the wall. The sky was painted with streaks of pink and orange, a calm promise after so much turmoil. Mikasa rested her head on Eren’s shoulder, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. “It’s beautiful,” she whispered.
“Not as beautiful as this,” Eren replied, gesturing to the quiet closeness between them. She tilted her head to meet his gaze, and he smiled, that familiar fire in his eyes tempered by softness.
For one fleeting evening, in a world that had never been kind to them, Eren and Mikasa found peace—not in grand gestures, not in battles won or lost, but in the simple, profound joy of being together. And in that moment, everything else faded away.
