Chapter Text
“Come on, Mikasa, you need to relax. Come with me. Mom won't let me go unless you come too.”
The black-haired girl sighed as she brushed a strand of bangs away from her face. She shook her head, but realizing her best friend couldn't see the gesture over the phone, she spoke again wearily.
“I don't think so. Sorry...”
“Please...”
“Mom and Dad aren't going to let me go out. I still have to study for Monday's exam.”
“Girl... you're eighteen years old. You're legally an adult and can do whatever you want. Come with me.”
“I may be legally an adult, but I still depend on my parents, so no. The answer is no.”
“At least try asking them.”
“I already know what they'll say.”
Of course she did. Her father was at work and wasn't home, leaving only her mother. But she wouldn't even bother asking. Her mother would probably lose her mind and give her another lecture about how she should live her life. That was the last thing she wanted.
“Mikasa...”
“Sorry, I have to go. Maybe next time.”
Before her best friend could launch into another round of arguments about why she should come, Mikasa ended the call.
She wasn't trying to be rude; she simply wasn't in the mood.
And it was true that she had a lot to study. She was only in her second semester of medical school. Final exams were approaching, and she didn't want to fail. After hanging up, she turned her soft music back on and returned to her work.
She tapped her fingers against her cheek while highlighting important sections in her biology textbook. Anything she thought might appear on the exam, she carefully copied into her notebook.
She was so focused that she didn't hear someone rushing up the stairs toward her room.
As a result, she nearly jumped out of her skin when the door suddenly flew open.
Her heart slammed violently against her ribcage as she looked up to find a woman standing there with a deep frown.
Her ink-black hair was tied into a side ponytail, and judging by the face mask and pajamas she wore, she had been about to go to bed.
Mikasa didn't need to ask why she looked so annoyed.
The phone in her hand told her everything.
No... she did it again. Traitor.
“Mom...”
“No, Mikasa. What do you mean you told Sasha you weren't going with her? Worse, that your father and I wouldn't give you permission. You didn't even bother asking.”
“No, because I knew exactly what the answer would be.”
They would make her go.
Why couldn't they understand that she wasn't like them and that she had more important things to do?
“Mom...”
“Go get dressed. Sasha will be here any minute.”
“Thank you, Mrs. A!” Sasha's shrill voice rang through the phone before the call ended.
Mikasa wrinkled her nose, feeling utterly betrayed by the brunette. They were definitely going to have a conversation later.
“Mom, seriously, I think—”
“Mikasa, you've been studying like crazy for the last two weeks. What have we talked about? You're young and beautiful. You need to relax and enjoy your life. So get dressed, or you'll be going out exactly as you are. And believe me, I won't care.”
With that, her mother grumbled and left the room.
Mikasa stared at her in disbelief. But knowing her mother never made empty threats, she reluctantly stood up, snapped her textbook shut, and shook her head.
No. She absolutely could not go out looking like this.
At the moment she was wearing a pair of tight pajama shorts in a loud green-and-yellow color combination, an oversized blue shirt, pink knee-high socks, and her long hair was tied into a messy bun.
Still, she knew that if she didn't hurry, her mother really would force her to leave the house dressed like that.
Grumbling under her breath, she gathered her study materials and neatly arranged them on her desk before undressing and tossing her clothes into the laundry basket.
After a quick warm shower, she put on the first things she found: a sleeveless cream-colored turtleneck sweater, black jeans, and knee-high boots in a matching cream shade. She added a thick black coat, grabbed one of her handbags, and packed her wallet and phone.
She left her hair down. She hated spending time styling it. Honestly, she would have preferred to cut it shorter, but her mother adored the fact that it reached nearly to her hips.
Just as she sprayed on a little perfume, she heard a car horn outside.
Rolling her eyes, she hurried downstairs.
Her mother gave her a quick inspection before raising an eyebrow.
“Did Sasha tell you where you're going?”
“You're forcing me to go, and now you're criticizing my outfit too? Why can't you be a normal mother?”
The woman laughed softly while adjusting her daughter's hair.
“I'm worried about you, Mikasa. Try making some friends.”
“I have friends.”
“Friends besides Sasha.”
“I have Armin.”
“You've been at university for almost a year and only have one friend there. You can't depend on Armin for everything.”
“It's not about quantity, it's about quality,” Mikasa grumbled. “Dad wouldn't agree with you forcing me to go out.”
“Actually, I called him, and he loves the idea. You should be more like—”
“If you finish that sentence, I'm going back to my room and locking the door.”
Her mother clicked her tongue before grabbing her daughter by the shoulders and practically pushing her toward the front door.
“Have fun, beautiful,” she sang cheerfully before shutting the door in Mikasa's face.
Mikasa muttered under her breath as she walked toward Sasha's dirt-colored Ford Maverick.
Her best friend was grinning shamelessly.
“Hey, gorgeous,” Sasha greeted teasingly.
Mikasa merely shot her a murderous glare as she climbed into the passenger seat.
“Hiii, gorgeouuus,” Sasha repeated in an exaggerated squeaky voice.
“I hate you,” Mikasa declared, crossing her arms and slamming the door shut.
“Hey, my baby isn't to blame,” Sasha protested, affectionately patting the steering wheel. “Don't listen to her, sweetheart. Mikasa's just grumpy. She loves us.”
Not wanting to push Mikasa's patience any further, she flashed an innocent smile before pressing the accelerator and driving them toward their destination.
Mikasa only knew one thing for certain: she wanted the night to end as quickly as possible.
Paradis was the same as always—packed with people, deafening music that could easily burst your eardrums, and flashy lights that barely let you see where you were walking. The combination was already making her dizzy. The smell of alcohol, sweat, and tobacco filled the air.
Sasha held tightly onto her best friend's hand so she wouldn't get lost in the crowd, while Mikasa followed reluctantly.
The brunette led her to the bar, where countless people were shouting their orders. Two exhausted bartenders were doing their best to keep up with the overwhelming crowd.
Mikasa watched in surprise as Sasha elbowed her way through the masses, completely ignoring the complaints of everyone she shoved aside.
“Two beers!” Sasha shouted.
Mikasa immediately grabbed her friend's sleeve and shook her head vigorously.
“I want strawberry juice!”
Sasha raised an eyebrow.
“What?! Absolutely not! At least have one drink!”
Mikasa shook her head again.
“I have to study tomorrow!”
Sasha gave her a challenging look as she pulled out her phone and started typing.
Mikasa frowned.
“What are you doing?!”
“Texting your mom to ask if she forgot to give you permission to drink!”
Completely offended, Mikasa snatched the phone from her friend's hands.
“Stop doing that!” she grumbled, stuffing it into her purse.
“Fine, but at least have one drink for me! Your mother is going to scold me if I bring you home completely sober, and I'll be in so much trouble!”
Mikasa almost laughed because it sounded ridiculous, but she knew it was both true and absurd at the same time. Crossing her arms, she pouted.
For Sasha, that was apparently enough encouragement to yell their order again.
Unfortunately, nobody seemed to be paying attention.
The brunette was beginning to lose her patience and started hurling insults at one of the bartenders, who looked thoroughly frustrated.
Mikasa was about to tell her friend to be patient—the place was overflowing, and the poor bartenders were clearly doing their best—when a red-haired man approached them and handed Sasha two unopened cans of beer.
Mikasa eyed him suspiciously.
He wore several gold earrings, a snake tattoo winding around his neck, and a black T-shirt with faded, unreadable lettering. Loose, worn-out pants and military-style boots completed the outfit. His long red hair was a complete mess, and the eyeliner beneath his eyes had smudged.
“Sorry, we don't accept drinks from strangers,” Mikasa said sharply, slapping Sasha's hands before she could take the cans.
Sasha burst out laughing and leaned close to whisper in her ear.
“He's the guy I told you about! Don't worry, he's the reason we're here!”
Then she happily accepted the beers.
The redhead frowned at Mikasa before leaning toward Sasha.
“You didn't tell me you were bringing a nun.”
Sasha laughed loudly.
Mikasa stared at both of them in disbelief.
Did they not realize they were practically shouting? She could hear every word perfectly.
Though, to be fair, she understood why he said that.
Everyone in the club wore dark, worn-out clothes, fishnet stockings, and gothic-style boots. Even Sasha looked completely different. She wore dramatic winged eyeliner, bright red lipstick, a tiny black skirt, a red crop top with flared sleeves, and fishnet tights decorated with skull patterns. Her hair was pinned up in a messy style, and she wore enough jewelry to stock a store.
“She's my best friend! The one I told you about!”
“You said you were bringing a pretty girl for one of my bandmates! If he sees her looking like that, he's going to hit me!”
Mikasa clicked her tongue angrily.
“You know what? I'm leaving.”
But Sasha grabbed her shoulders.
“Hey, calm down! Floch's just teasing, right, honey?”
The redhead didn't actually look like he was joking.
Still, after receiving a meaningful look from Sasha, he nodded and forced a smile.
Mikasa answered with a growl.
He swallowed nervously and leaned toward Sasha.
“I have to get to the stage. The concert's about to start. Don't leave when it's over.”
Then he wrapped an arm around Sasha's waist and kissed her aggressively.
Mikasa immediately turned her head away, uncomfortable with such a public display of affection.
Once he was gone, Sasha let out a dreamy sigh.
“I swear, this is it. He's the one.”
Mikasa raised an eyebrow and looked at her best friend skeptically.
Still, she held back any comment. After all, Sasha seemed to find “the one” every single week, and somehow it always turned out he wasn't. She wanted to point that out, but Sasha looked happy, and Mikasa didn't want to be the one to burst her bubble.
So she simply allowed herself to be dragged toward the front of the stage, offering apologetic looks to the people who were once again being shoved aside by her friend's relentless elbows.
When they finally reached the front row, Sasha handed Mikasa a can of beer.
Mikasa frowned, let out an annoyed sigh, and opened it. She took a sip and immediately grimaced at the bitter taste.
They waited there for a while.
Sasha swayed happily to the loud rock music blasting through the speakers, while Mikasa did her best to ignore it before it gave her a splitting headache. It wasn't her style at all, and she desperately wanted to leave.
Just as she was about to tell Sasha exactly that, the red-haired drummer stepped onto the stage and grabbed a microphone.
The music stopped.
He tapped the microphone a couple of times to get everyone's attention.
The screeching feedback nearly made Mikasa drop her beer. She quickly covered one ear while the rest of the band took their places with their instruments.
“ARE YOU READY FOR THE BEST MUSICAL EXPERIENCE OF YOUR LIVES?!” he shouted.
The crowd erupted into cheers and screams.
Sasha, of course, screamed louder than anyone else.
“EXCELLENT! THEN GET READY FOR WINGS OF FREEDOM!”
The audience responded with another deafening wave of excitement.
Mikasa merely frowned as the redhead moved behind the drum set.
After striking his drumsticks together three times, the music exploded through the speakers.
It was far too loud.
The drummer attacked the drums with everything he had, pounding them as hard as possible.
Mikasa watched him carefully, trying to understand what Sasha saw in him.
When she failed to figure it out, her gaze drifted to the right, where a musician with a shaved head and an eyebrow piercing was rapidly moving his fingers across a keyboard.
Beside him stood a very tall, muscular blond man with short, messy hair and a rough-looking expression that made her shiver slightly.
Eventually, however, her attention settled on someone else.
The vocalist.
He had begun to sing.
His voice was incredible.
Mikasa could barely understand the lyrics, but it didn't matter. His voice was deep, rich, and undeniably masculine, sending an unexpected shiver down her spine.
To her surprise, when she finally focused on his face, she realized he was already looking directly at her.
Her gray eyes met brilliant emerald-green ones.
For some reason, her cheeks immediately turned a deep shade of crimson as a smile spread across the young man's face.
Was it possible to smile that arrogantly while singing?
Apparently, it was.
His fingers moved skillfully across a bright blue electric guitar as he performed.
Mikasa looked him over far less discreetly than she should have and swallowed hard.
He wore dark jeans ripped at the knees and a sleeveless black shirt that revealed strong, well-defined arms. His long hair was tied back in a messy ponytail, with a few loose strands falling across his forehead.
A small earring decorated one ear.
A tight black choker circled his neck.
Bracelets, rings, and black-painted fingernails completed the look.
Once again, Mikasa looked up.
And once again, she found him staring directly at her.
He hadn't looked away once.
She felt almost hypnotized.
Yet there was something overwhelming about the intensity of his gaze.
Reluctantly, she forced herself to look away and took another long drink of beer.
The bitter taste made her grimace again.
Still, she focused on the drink because she could feel his eyes on her.
The next thirty minutes felt like the longest half hour of her life.
And throughout all of it, Mikasa never managed to shake the strange weight pressing against her chest.
Once the concert ended and the band said their goodbyes to the crowd, Mikasa finally felt like she could breathe again.
The DJ's music started up once more, though thankfully at a much lower volume. Her ears were immensely grateful for the change.
Sasha burst out laughing and threw an arm around her neck.
“I'm so jealous of you,” she grumbled, though the huge grin on her face completely contradicted her words.
“What are you talking about?” Mikasa asked innocently, even though she already had a pretty good idea where this conversation was headed.
“I want someone to dedicate an entire concert to me.”
“I have no idea what you're talking about.”
“Oh, please. The lead singer didn't stop looking at you for a single second.”
She knew.
She had felt it.
“Really? I didn't notice.”
Sasha rolled her eyes.
“You are a terrible liar,” she teased, grabbing Mikasa's hand. “Come on.”
“What? Where?”
“To the dressing room. You heard Floch. He wanted me to see him after the concert.”
“Then you go. I'm leaving.”
“Mika...”
“No. Please go. I'm tired.”
“Your mother would kill me if she found out I let you leave by yourself.”
“They already forced me to leave the house and come to this concert, which, by the way, I hated.”
That was a lie.
Maybe this kind of music wasn't her favorite, but that young man's voice had captivated her.
“They'll have to be satisfied with that.”
“Mikasa...”
“I'll be fine. Go be with your boyfriend,” she insisted.
Sasha didn't seem happy about leaving her alone, but she eventually sighed and wrapped her arms around Mikasa's neck before kissing her cheek.
“Fine. Call me when you get home. Love you, babe.”
Then, for the third time that night, she bulldozed her way through the crowd with a series of forceful shoves.
Mikasa quickly discovered that reaching the exit felt like an endless journey.
Unlike Sasha, she couldn't bring herself to push people aside, which made it painfully difficult to navigate through the packed venue.
But the moment she stepped outside, she realized she had made a terrible mistake.
Paradis was practically in the middle of nowhere.
That was why everyone came in their own vehicles. The bar was located outside Shiganshina, the city where they lived, and there were no buses or taxis that passed through the area.
For a moment, she considered going back inside.
Then she heard another band being announced.
Immediately, she reconsidered.
No. She would rather walk three kilometers until she reached the nearest paved road.
Unfortunately, when she glanced at her watch, she realized she had completely lost track of time.
They had arrived at ten o'clock.
It was now well past midnight.
No bus would be running, no matter how far she walked.
She briefly considered walking all the way home, but the trip would take nearly three hours.
Panic began to creep in.
Turning toward the entrance, she decided she would have to ask Sasha for the truck.
Surely her boyfriend could drive her home afterward.
“Need a ride, sweetheart?”
A man's voice suddenly sounded beside her.
Mikasa jumped.
She hadn't even noticed someone approaching.
A tall, older man with facial tattoos and an expression she immediately disliked was leaning toward her.
She instinctively took a step backward.
“No, actually... I'm waiting for someone.”
She wasn't sure why she said it, but lying seemed like the safest option.
“You know, it's dangerous being out here alone,” the man said with a grin. “Especially when you're such a delicious little snack. Let me help you.”
The man stepped closer.
Mikasa stepped back.
Unfortunately, her back soon hit the wall.
The stranger kept advancing.
When he planted his arms on either side of her, trapping her against the wall, genuine fear flooded through her.
“That's not necessary,” she replied, swallowing hard and trying to steady her breathing.
“Don't worry, sweetheart. I can protect you,” he insisted, leaning toward her neck.
Mikasa squeezed her eyes shut.
Nausea rose in her stomach.
Then—
A loud cry of pain shattered the moment.
Her eyes flew open.
The man was sprawled on the ground, clutching his stomach.
Someone was repeatedly kicking him in the face.
“I told you already, Djel!” a young man shouted. “Stop harassing girls you find alone, or I'll tell Erwin not to let you back in here!”
Because of the darkness, Mikasa couldn't immediately tell who it was.
Then he stepped closer.
The faint glow from the bar's neon sign illuminated his face.
Emerald-green eyes.
The singer.
He looked at her with obvious concern, though she also caught a trace of irritation in his expression.
“Are you stupid?” he snapped, pulling a cigarette from the pack in his hand. “You shouldn't be standing out here alone—especially looking like that!”
He lit the cigarette before continuing.
“Where's your friend?”
Mikasa swallowed nervously and lowered her gaze.
“She went inside with the drummer.”
The singer scoffed.
“So Floch found himself another toy. Idiot.”
“Excuse me?” Mikasa asked irritably. “Toy?”
She knew it. That idiot was just planning to use her best friend.
“Don't worry. He's a jerk, but he's honest. If your friend is with him, it's because he already told her he doesn't want anything serious.”
Mikasa clenched her fists. Maybe that was true, but he clearly didn't know Sasha. She fell in love and got attached far too easily. Mikasa had no doubt that her friend was secretly hoping things would turn out differently.
How naive. Life didn't work that way.
She would have to talk to her.
“But now I see you're the nun he told me about,” the young man continued. “What are you doing here? This doesn't seem like your kind of place.”
Mikasa crossed her arms.
“I'm not a nun... and you're right. This isn't my scene. I only came to keep my best friend company.”
“Then I guess you didn't like the concert.”
The wounded tone in his voice made her look up.
She was about to tell him she had actually loved it, but then she noticed the arrogant grin on his face. It annoyed her, and for some reason she wanted to wipe it away.
So she smiled sweetly and nodded.
“I hated it.”
To her surprise, his grin only widened.
After exhaling a cloud of smoke, he let out a husky laugh that sent a shiver down her spine.
“Really? You seemed to enjoy it. I know I did.”
“Well, sometimes things aren't what they seem,” she grumbled. “Anyway, thanks for the help, but I need to go.”
“Without your friend? Do you have a car?”
“No, but I can walk.”
“You do realize you won't find any transportation home at this hour, right?”
“I'll walk home,” she declared stubbornly.
The idea sounded terrible even to her, especially after what had just happened.
Apparently, he thought so too because he stared at her in disbelief.
“Are you actually stupid?” he snapped, tossing his cigarette onto the ground and crushing it beneath his boot. He pulled a set of keys from his jacket pocket. “Come on, angel. I'll drive you.”
“Excuse me? You have a car?”
Once again, the young man smiled.
“Something like that.”
He grabbed her arm and led her toward a motorcycle painted entirely black.
Mikasa immediately stepped back in horror.
“No way. That's not a vehicle. That's a murder machine.”
“Come on, angel. I can't leave you out here alone.”
“My name isn't angel... and I'm not getting on that thing.”
The brunet looked at her with exasperation.
“Just get on, angel. I have other things to do.”
“I already told you my name isn't—!”
“Then what's your name?”
Mikasa instantly regretted saying that.
It was obviously a trap to get her to tell him her name, and she wasn't about to fall for it.
“I'm not getting on that thing,” she insisted stubbornly.
“Fine. Have fun walking home. Take care.”
He started the motorcycle.
“Oh, and your friend is probably going to be busy with Floch for a long time, so I wouldn't wait for her.”
Damn it, Sasha.
Swallowing her pride and thoroughly frustrated, Mikasa clicked her tongue and kicked the ground.
“Is it safe?” she asked nervously.
“No. You said it yourself—it's a murder machine.”
She glared at him.
He rolled his eyes and tossed a helmet at her.
“I'm kidding. Nothing's going to happen.”
Mikasa considered her options.
She could walk home alone through the dark.
She could wait an unknown amount of time for Sasha.
Or she could climb onto a motorcycle with a lunatic she barely knew.
None of those choices were particularly appealing.
“Seriously, angel, I have things to do. Are you coming or not?”
With a defeated sigh, she nodded and carefully climbed onto the motorcycle.
The brunet sighed dramatically.
“Hold on tight.”
Mikasa looked around for something to grab but found nothing.
He glanced at her impatiently and suddenly revved the engine.
The motorcycle lurched forward slightly.
Mikasa instantly wrapped her arms around his waist.
“Are you crazy?!”
“There you go. Good girl.”
He smirked over his shoulder.
“Now enjoy the ride. And remember—don't let go.”
Mikasa was about to argue, but the motorcycle shot forward before she could.
She squeezed her eyes shut and clung tightly to him.
She tried to ignore the entire situation.
Unfortunately, that became difficult when she noticed how firm his muscles were.
The guy was undeniably strong.
And annoyingly attractive.
He smelled wonderful too, though the scent was partially masked by cigarette smoke.
There was no denying it.
He was charming.
Too bad he's an idiot.
At first she was terrified.
But after a while, she relaxed enough to open her eyes.
Resting her cheek against his back, she felt the wind brush against her face and toss her hair around.
For a brief moment, she felt free.
Peaceful.
She closed her eyes again and simply enjoyed the ride.
She had no idea how much time passed before someone gently shook her.
“I know I'm charming, but it's time to let go,” he teased. “Unless you'd rather we go somewhere a little more private. I certainly wouldn't mind.”
Mikasa frowned and quickly climbed off the motorcycle.
Her legs trembled slightly from tension.
When she nearly lost her balance, he immediately grabbed her around the waist to steady her.
“Are you stupid? Be more careful!”
It was the third time he'd called her that tonight.
That was the last straw.
Mikasa threw the helmet onto the ground and glared at him.
“Jerk! I never should've let you bring me home!”
She stormed toward the stairs leading up to her house.
Behind her, she heard a loud laugh.
“It's called saying thank you, angel!”
Mikasa spun around, ready to tell him to stop calling her that.
But he was already speeding away down the street on that death machine.