Retrieving ?Eremika

Mikasa's P.O.V.
I felt as if the tear reservoirs behind my eyes were about to shatter under all the pressure. My first kiss had been reserved for the the boy six years ago, not Eren. But you might never find him, a voice in my head whispered melancholically. I rubbed my temples, trying to expel the pain. My mind replayed the scene continuously, judging if it was the correct thing to do after all. The breeze played with the fringes of my scarf, telling me to not forget the one who saved me.

Yet something about Eren comforted me, sheltered me, the way the boy did six years ago. Moreover, he did salvage me from the grips of the traffickers. My fingers crept to my lips, reminiscing on the scent of him. Eren. His name rung in my mind for the entire duration of my walk home.

I unlocked the door to my house and caught a whiff of the sweet aroma of biscuits. Furtively, I closed the door behind me, reluctant to let my aunt see me cut and bruised. She would see right through my mask of deceive and know that I had just been involved in a fight. She would know it was an encounter with the traffickers and not allow me to attend school anymore. A part of me yearned to see Eren again, so I couldn't forego the only opportunity to be beside him.

"Mikasa? Is that you?" Crap. My aunt, wiping her hands on her aprons, came to greet me and she froze in horror at the sight of my injuries. "Oh my gosh. You're blue and black all over. Tell me everything."

"No, Aunt, please, tell me everything," I retorted, surprising myself with my tone of voice- determined and steady, "tell me everything about that day. Who was he?" There was an acute edge of desperation in my voice, yet I was uncertain if I should push on, as it would upset my aunt.

"Who are you talking about?" She asked surreptitiously, her eyes widening a fraction. No, she can't do this. She knew perfectly well who I was on about.

"The boy from that day," my voice rose significantly, agitated at her play of innocence. I did not wish to unsettle our bond, yet my will to know overrode the system, "please, just give me his name."

"Did they come again? The traffickers?" Her eyes narrowed, apprehended, as her gaze lowered to rest on the rug below her feet. She had no intentions in telling me the answer.

"I think I deserve to know, after all these years," I continued in monotony, but still receiving no response. Out of sheer and suppressed rage, I ascended the stairs, silently hoping that she would stop me and explain everything to me. However, just like how I had predicted, she didn't.

Locking the door of my room, I sulked in a corner, clutching my knees to my chest, hiding my face behind the scarf. Why? I questioned myself, digging my nails into my arm in remorse. I had broken the promise I made to myself, to not be involved in any relationships with anyone other than him. Empty tears tumbled down my cheeks, gathering at my chin and eventually splashing onto the scarf.

A knock. On the door.

I dragged my hefty feet across the floorboards, yanking the door open with all force. Aunt, still in her apron, was standing before me, eyes sealed shut. My heart raced at the sight of her.

"You're right, it is time to tell you," she murmured, as if in denial, her voice hoarse. My hands trembled at the thought of finally knowing the truth. She tugged her gaze up to meet mine, sighing in exasperation. My blood had coagulated in my veins as she parted her lips to speak. She muttered a name, faintly. What? As though she had read my mind, she lifted her head, inhaling a raspy breath, and the long-anticipated words rolled out of her mouth.

"Yeager. Eren Yeager. That's the boy's name."
End of Mikasa's P.O.V.

Eren's P.O.V.
I could still visualise, in my head, the relief in her eyes when she saw me as I threw myself onto my bed and checked my phone for notifications. Zero text messages. A question had surfaced, however, due to her abrupt departure after the moment we shared. I was hesitant on whether I should text her to check if she was feeling alright. Why did she apologise? I could feel these blurred shards of my memories begin to piece together themselves, attempting to forge a link. I knotted my fingers together behind my neck, leaning back against the cooling wall. I let loose a groan of frustration, just as the door of my room clicked open.

"Eren," a husky voice fragmented my brooding thoughts, bringing me back to the brutal reality. Levi, hands jammed in his pockets, leaning against the doorway of the room, had a granite look smudged on his face, "Titans have breached another wall. It's very near our location. Be ready to fight when they close in. They've been here before so there's a big chance in them returning since the small hole between the districts has only been partially sealed... Just be prepared." After saying that, he turned on his heels and went back to joining Hanji in concocting war strategies in the living room. They had easily rented this dainty house, as not many wished to live in the Trost District after the gruesome attack.

Mikasa. A major concern was her safety if the Titans attacked Trost again. I had to device a way into keeping her away from imminent danger. There was only one way I could brainstorm that would accomplish this. I could fulfil my duty as a soldier while she could be safe by my side. The notion seemed self-centred, as her presence next to me at all times would comfort me, yet it would expose her to greater risk if she met a Titan. Nevertheless, I would ask her tomorrow, whether she would like to join the Survey Corps, since she did express a hint of interest during our conversation on the rooftop. I whole-heartedly hoped that she would agree to my advocation.
End of Eren's P.O.V.