Retrieving ?Eremika

Mikasa's P.O.V.
I couldn't allow myself to develop feelings for someone I hardly knew. My heart was attempting to haul me back to reality as my mind sung. A part of me was reminding myself of the boy from six years ago, the one who had salvaged me from death's fatal grip. My aunt had brought me away ever since what happened with the traffickers. She had told me that it was unsafe for me to see anyone for a period of time, forcing me to stay at her house for three years. She did allow me to attend Trost High, for I knew no one and I was a nobody there. However, to now, she still hadn't let her guard crumble in case the traffickers discover my location. Yet the boy... I was not permitted to know his name, as my aunt did not wish me to have any connections with anyone anymore, but he was the reason I was saved. I had vowed to search for him until I couldn't physically manage.

No, I would not let Eren break my defence.

I needed some time alone to rethink my actions. Pursing my lips, I left the room, "I'm going for a walk," I yelled down the hallway in my aunt's house. The only audible reply was a grunt.

Bracing myself for the weather, I lowered my head and stormed out, locking the door firmly behind me. A chilling draught licked the nape of my neck, making me shudder, as I strolled along the street adjacent to the derelict market. My fingers reached for my crimson scarf, which I had brought along with me, and tightened it around my neck. The bins beside me were upturned, its contents strewn all over the ground. The brick walls were indented, shards of glass from the shattered windows sprinkled atop the mounds of rubble. Trost District looked very pleasant before the Titans attacked, with people thronging every corner of the streets. The only sound now was the months-old newspaper flapping in the breeze, with articles about the events before the attack.

A rustle. The source of the sound seemed to be behind me.

I whipped my head around, wary of my surroundings. An image of the traffickers from when I was nine surfaced in my mind, as every muscle in my arms and legs tensed, ready to spring into action. My aunt had taught me a few ways to defend myself in situations similar to this one, yet none of them would be very useful against beefy grown men. Nevertheless, it would cost them a bit if they attempted to harm me. They were back, but this time I was ready. I snarled at my opponent, who was not insight yet. I couldn't even sense their presence beside me but I knew they were around.

"M-Mikasa?" A small voice hesitantly whispered, loud enough for me to hear. I pulled my gaze up the forsaken building to my left. A crouched silhouette was visible at the top, outlined by the hazy sunlight permeating through the thin fog. My instincts told me it did not look menacing or hostile; it wasn't a trafficker, or so I hoped. Deftly, I scaled the wall, driven by sheer curiosity, using the protruding pipes as my footing.
As I neared the roof, my sole slipped on a pipe, which was covered in dew.

"Gotcha," a hand shot out and wrapped itself around my wrist, hauling me up. With the sunlight no longer obstructing my sight, I could finally see the person properly.

My limbs froze. Eren?
End of Mikasa's P.O.V.

Eren's P.O.V.
Mikasa? I assisted her scramble up the wall, which was a display of impressive skills for a 15-year-old.

"Mikasa, what are you doing here?" I let go of her arm, which I had been clutching ever since she managed to shift her body beside mine. Her abrupt appearance had disrupted my thoughts about my past, yet it was consoling, for some peculiar reason, to have her around.

"I was just taking a walk. Fancy seeing you here. What about you, w-why are you sitting up here?" she stammered, fidgeting with her sleeves cuffs. Mikasa still had her scarf around her neck, which she cozily snuggled her face in.

"I don't really know if I should say it or not. It's about my harrowing past," I replied because Levi was very secretive about the issue of my memory loss. She lifted her gaze to meet mine, apprehension expressed in the darkening of her irises.

"If you're feeling unsure, I should probably tell you a bit about myself, so you feel more comfortable in opening up," she advocated, swinging her legs over the edge, "I used to live a normal life. I used to. With my parents. Everything was going fine. Then one day, those three men came, got an axe out, and and took my parents away from me. I can't recover from that, ever." She sucked in a rattled breath, "They were about to sell me off to this human trafficking business, but then this boy came in and he stabbed two of the men... We were both around the same age, I think. I haven't seen him for a long time now. Never even got to know his name."

Her eyes watered at the mention of her parents and her saviour. Swiftly and perhaps purely out of habit, she tugged her scarf upwards, to hide her face, as she sniffled. I wasn't sure how I should respond, as I realised how detrimental it must had been for her. As she drifted into her own thoughts, my mind wandered. Maybe it would be better if my past was concealed from me. Would I actually want to know what happened before? My cravings to retrieve my memories diminished slightly.

"He saved me," Mikasa blurted, voice breaking due to her tears, "and I miss him."
End of Eren's P.O.V.

Mikasa's P.O.V.
I revealed everything about me to him. Was it a wise or a foolish move? An urge surged from within me to ask him about his background. I suppressed it, however, not meaning to sound intrusive.

"I'm so sorry about you and your parents," Eren murmured, "that boy must've been very brave. I wish I was that brave. I don't have much to tell you in exchange, sorry. I... I lost my memories. I only know that I was and I am part of the Survey Corps and I know some people from there. I'm here because this spot is where I fell and lost my memories. This sounds stupid but I might get them back just by sitting here, you know. I'm pretty much useless without them."

I shook my head, turning my head to him, "No, Eren, you aren't useless, don't say that. Do you know how much I wish to be in the Survey Corps, fighting alongside justice? I need justice back in this world, Eren. I need people like you." My mouth sealed shut as my mind registered what I had just babbled out. A flush of warmth touched my cheeks, as I buried my face in the comfort of my scarf. The scarf. It was the boy from six years ago who gave me this scarf, stating that it would give me courage. No, not Eren. I uprooted any thoughts of him, yet it was such a difficult task. Never had I ever felt this way about someone who wasn't my family, not to mention the fact that I just met him.

His emerald eyes were fixated on me, taken aback by my rash words. A fire ignited in his eyes as he leaned closer, his face only centimetres away from mine.
"No!" I shoved him away, exerting all the force into distancing him from me, inching backwards. No. Not Eren. Not any boy other than the one who saved me. I would find him, I promised myself sternly. Eren landed with a heavy thud, merely inches away from the edge, the impact sending up plumes of dust. He propped himself up with a single elbow, rubbing his temples, his face screwed up in apparent agony.

"I'm sorry, I was just going in for a friendly hug, not what you were thinking," he explained,coughing, "I just wanted to thank you for giving me courage."
I could feel the heat rising from my chin to my forehead as I realised my mistake. I gave him courage? Courage? The same word the boy used when he handed me the scarf. A link forged in my head between Eren and the boy, but I scrubbed it into thin air. No, it couldn't be Eren, I was overthinking, as usual. Eren was in the Survey Corps. The boy had no reason to join, he was with his father that day, when Aunt yanked me away. He was living a desirable life the last time I saw him.

"I'm so sorry, Eren," I held out a hand, to lift him from the film of dust and gravel on the ground. He refused, feigning to not see my hand, as he rose, brushing the dust from his jacket. Again, I could only see his silhouette due to the sun as he towered over me, standing up when I was still sitting.

"It's fine, Mikasa. It was really nice talking to you, but I have errands to run, I'll catch up with you tomorrow," and by that, he sprinted off, pouncing from roof to roof, similar to the way cheetahs would prey for gazelles. Soon, he perished from my line of sight.

As soon as his absence struck me, I realised how I appeared from his perspective. What... Did I do?
End of Mikasa's P.O.V.