I live, I die, I live again [Eren J.]

10: Yes to Nepotism, Manipulation, and Blackmail

Mikasa hadn't seen hide or hair of Mikoto since Eren had been spirited away to who-knows-where on higher-ups orders.

It was highly distressing.

Had she not had Armin by her side, she'd have likely gone off in search of one or the other or both of her missing family members. While he would have never been able to restrain her physically, Mikasa found his logic and quick rationale what she needed when being talked off a ledge.

Like in that instance, for example, when she was that close to slamming her fist into a Garrison soldier's face.

" I heard she went back, " the aforementioned soldier gossiped to his comrade. Mikasa couldn't see their faces considering they were seated behind them but, judging by his voice, his was a very punchable face. " To Mitras. "

" So the Duchess is really just some nothing special noble, huh? Probably bribed her way to Top Two... "

Two very punchable faces.

Armin preemptively snaked his arms around Mikasa's, knowing she could very well lunge at any given moment.

" She shouldn't be allowed to go back to Mitras with her tail between her legs— her lover is that Titan, isn't he? Who's to say there's not something wrong with her, too? "

The bench screeched as Mikasa abruptly stood, only hampered by her blond companion literally throwing his weight back and lying parallel to the floor to weigh her down the only way he knew how.

" Mika—Mikasa! It's not worth it! " Armin panted, as he tried futily to tug her back onto the bench. " It'll only get make trouble. For them. "

As it usually did, his way with words won. The dark haired girl reluctantly sat down— though not without shooting the to gossips a murderous look that would have made Mikoto proud.

" Miko would never go back to Mitras. " Mikasa was more than sure.

One night, as stormclouds rolled overhead and they huddled together in their bunks, Mikoto had traced the brand— the mon, she called it— on their wrists, whispering to Mikasa about the woman she only knew as Mama. About the cruel hand fate dealt the woman who gave birth to her... and how much hate the girl who grew to be the Duchess of Western Sina truly carried for the nobility who thought of her mother as nothing more than trash.

" She'd never go back there— " Mikasa shook her head vehemently "— not unless she had to. "

" Maybe she had to, " Armin reasoned. Mikasa's head whipped up with a murderous look to which the blond threw up his hands placatingly. " No, no— not like that, not like she was forced to go back. Not really. I just meant that maybe she had to go back to, to get something, or do something. Something that she could only accomplish in Mitras... "