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The night of the ranking and subsequent graduation from the training corps is filled with celebration. Some are celebrating their placement in the top ten and the resulting ability to escape to the interior, some are just glad to have made it through training at all so they can join the Garrison instead of being sent to work the fields. Whatever the case, every one of them is glad their three-year stint is up.
With no more need to be awake at the crack of dawn the next day to begin their training regimen afresh, the night promises entertainments of all sorts for the new graduates. Most of the graduating class has collected in groups around bonfires, sharing food snuck out after dinner along with their jokes and stories. A few groups managed to sneak some alcohol too—it’s watered-down ale that tastes worse than it smells, sure, but the principle of drinking in celebration makes it more bearable.
Of course, being teenagers still dealing with their bodies’ reactions to hormonal changes, a fair few of the cadets have already snuck away for a decidedly more intimate way to entertain themselves. Conversation turns to the topic of sex, as it so often does; the only difference here is a mixed audience discussing such matters in place of the usual whispering after lights-out in sex-segregated barracks.
It’s harder for Mikasa to ignore the topic here. During their training nights she could usually just go to sleep, but here no amount of faking deep even breaths can stop the conversation from turning to her. While others are trying to narrow their options down to only one person they’d sleep with if given the chance, Mikasa would struggle to even begin to come up with a single name. Maybe if she fakes tiredness she can slip off unscathed, not have to address what she’s been able to almost completely avoid for three years already.
But that would mean leaving Eren alone, and with the amount of drink he’s had—barely alcoholic though it is—she doesn’t trust him not to get himself hurt. And already there’s the sinking feeling in her stomach when she’s sat too long in her indecision and Mina, giggly with drink, asks, “So what about you, Mika?”
She didn’t have time to think about it, has nothing in her head that she could just blurt out to maybe stop them from asking again. “I… I don’t… there’s not really anyone.” She tries for casual, careful to keep her face from betraying her nerves. It can’t be so uncommon that she doesn’t feel that desire, it seems strange that anyone could look at someone else and determine that they’d want to have sex with them just like that.
Apparently, she is the only one among this group though.
“What do you mean, no one?” Hannah sounds scandalized by the prospect that Mikasa might not feel the desire to engage in the kind of activity that sent a decent few of the girls who started off in training with them home with a swollen belly and a training corps discharge.
“It’s not worth the risk,” Mikasa ventures, trying to backtrack to the logical side of things rather than lean on her argument that she doesn’t feel a pull to in the first place before risk is even considered.
Ymir looks up from where she’s been ignoring everyone else in favor of conversing with Christa. She makes some jab about exclusively sleeping with other girls that causes Christa to flush, but Mikasa isn’t fully listening. The whole group seems to be discussing whether or not she’s making it up. Across the circle of people she catches glances from those eyeing her skeptically, hears the words “not human” and feels them like a punch to the gut.
“So what’s wrong with you then, if you don’t want to fuck anyone?” Mikasa doesn’t look over in time to find the speaker. She almost wishes Eren were here instead of off with a different group to defend her like he did the first time they’d met, though maybe short of killing.
Taking advantage of Mikasa’s continued silence, Hannah answers for her, slightly slurred but still awfully understandable as she shouts out for the whole camp to hear, “Because Mikasa’s a machine".
The laughter that follows is loud, pounding into Mikasa’s skull. She doesn’t bother bidding the others good night, just stands up to leave. She can’t understand why it would make her any less of a person not to want what they all seem to want, but it’s not worth it to question why the comments are so much more biting than the usual teasing between trainees. She’s been admired for her strength and ability all throughout training, only to be cast out of everyone’s favor in one fell swoop. They don't seem to notice she's gone, the taunts continuing even as their subject slips away. The only thing she can reasonably hope for is that most people will forget about it by the morning or at least be too preoccupied with preparing for the ceremony to bring it up again.
The barracks are thankfully not far away and she slips inside, the other trainees’ words still ringing in her ears. Machine. Freak. Inhuman.
She’s never realized she was supposed to feel any differently than she does, but now it appears that Mikasa is an outlier in more than just relative physical strength. But this cannot be attributed to constant training when people ask.
It’s too late for her to take it back, not with the jeers behind her back that are always, always going to be loud enough for that not to matter. She'll always hear it. Instead of being more put together than anyone, she’s just defective, and now everyone knows.
The thought hits her harder than she’d like. Ever since that day she’d met Eren, Mikasa had been able to strike back against anything that came at her but this, this is not physical and she has no idea what to do to block this attack.
Before tears can come to her eyes Mikasa lets out a grunt of frustration and punches a post of one of the bunks, disregarding the way the wood creaks and splinters slightly under her fist.
“You’re holding back,” comes a voice from behind her. It’s not a voice Mikasa hears often, as the other girl mainly keeps to herself, but it’s familiar all the same. She turns to see Annie reclined on one of the bottom beds, a strange glint to her eyes the only break from her normal impassive look.
Mikasa waits, unsure of what to say in response, until Annie continues, “Maybe you need to let off some steam?” It sounds like a question, but Mikasa doesn’t think it is one. She nods in response anyway, figuring she does need to vent out some of her pent-up energy and distract herself from the confrontation with the other girls anyway. She’s crossed the room to stand over Annie before she realizes she’s even moved, the need to take her mind off of those words still echoing around greater than anything else.
Annie makes no move to get up, so Mikasa reaches out a hand to her. The faster they can start sparring, the better. The blonde cocks an eyebrow at her before accepting the proffered hand and slowly getting to her feet.
However, rather than let go once she’s standing, Annie’s grip tightens and she hauls Mikasa in towards her.
Mikasa’s stunned for a second. They haven’t really practiced such… close quarter combat techniques in any of their training, mainly sticking to titan-killing maneuvers and hand to hand combat on the open field. The opportunity for practice now isn’t unwelcome, though, and Mikasa starts to move her other hand to strike Annie’s wrist to free herself.
But the hand on her waist startles her into stopping. That’s not a move she recalls, and the way Annie’s fingertips are sliding under the hem of her shirt is definitely not something they were ever taught. She supposes it is an effective enough defensive maneuver considering the shocking effect the unprecedented move had. As Annie lets go of Mikasa’s hand and rises onto her toes to bring their mouths together, it clicks that Annie had meant an entirely different form of “letting off steam” than Mikasa had anticipated.
Mikasa’s not sure what she thought Annie’s kiss would feel like. To be honest, she hadn’t thought about kissing Annie at all. But even if she had, it’s doubtful her imagination would have accurately depicted how soft the other girl’s lips are under her own. Especially considering that Annie tends to act coldly towards others, the soft feel and heat of her mouth are welcome changes.
Without constriction of the gear, Annie’s hands roam on Mikasa’s skin unhindered. Her fingers skim over Mikasa’s abdomen, and she breathes laughter into their kisses as the muscles clench in response to the touch. Then the hand not on her waist moves over the remaining layer of cloth on her chest, and Mikasa’s breath catches.
It’s not like Mikasa’s breasts have never been touched before- when everyone is sore and tired after training sometimes the girls help each other out of their gear. Hands brushing against chests are commonplace with the placement of the front straps, but this feels different. There’s an intent here that is not simply unbuckle and retreat; it’s steady, purposeful. Mikasa’s sure Annie can feel the pulse thrumming under her skin.
“You can touch me too, you know,” Annie says, and there’s a small hint of mirth in her voice, as if she’s amused rather than frustrated by the way Mikasa’s hands are still uselessly dangling at her sides.
Mikasa starts to bring her hands up. To do what, she’s not sure, but then Annie grabs her wrists and swings them around so Mikasa’s stumbling backwards onto the edge of the lower bunk.
Annie kisses her again and somehow maneuvers them fully onto the bunk. She pulls Mikasa’s scarf off, drops it to the floor. Mikasa lets her tug her shirt up, lifting her upper body so Annie can bring the material over her head. She finds her own hands fisting the hem of Annie’s shirt, knows Annie’s waiting for her to pull it off but she somehow can’t.
“Well?” Annie prompts.
Mikasa nods even though there’s something small screaming inside her to stop, swallows hard, decides to go along with it. “Yeah, come on.” She helps the other girl out of her shirt even though she still doesn’t grasp exactly why. She has no personal motivation or even desire to do this, so why does it feel like she has to?
They make quick work of the rest of their clothes, tossing them to the floor by the bedside. Then Annie’s pushing her back down, spreading Mikasa’s legs and pushing one of her own between them, and oh. Something registers as feeling good, even as her mind protests its inability to comprehend what’s going on, begs to end this. But she can’t stop now, needs to prove—if only to herself—that she’s not a broken mechanical part. She can do this, she will do this, and not even herself is going to get in the way of that.
Logically, Mikasa knows there’s nothing wrong with the situation. They’re both females and there’s no risk of pregnancy that would keep her from serving in the Scouting Legion with her best friends. It’s not even a social taboo—many of the girls have experimented with each other at some point or another, and everyone knows Ymir and Christa are together. Her body seems to have gotten with the program, hips pushing up into Annie’s to bring their bodies together. But there’s still something she can’t pinpoint about it, something inexplicably off.
There’s no intensity like Hannah had said, Mikasa doesn’t see stars shooting across her vision or feel her mind going void of anything but pleasure—her mind and heart are racing, yes, but more out of panic than anything else. Her fingers shake as they pass over Annie’s skin, but only out of a terror she can’t voice. What’s wrong with me?
There’s a feeling building in her lower stomach; she’s not sure if it’s the feeling that the rest of the girls had talked about so many times, or if it’s just her body repressing the urge to throw up from the mental stress that she can’t seem to stop. But her body keeps moving without her control, seeking out that pleasure that she abstractly knows rather than feels is resulting from the contact. Her fingers dig into Annie’s flesh as if she can somehow anchor herself to be fully in the moment but it still feels as though there’s a mental wall up, numbing her.
It barely registers that Annie’s body flush against hers is hotter than it maybe ought to be; Mikasa wonders if her own temperature is elevated past normal, wonders what else there could possibly be to make this even more strange than it already is. She feels out of place, almost like an uninvolved third party stuck in her head watching the two girls move together. There’s a disconnection somewhere, though she’s unsure if it’s her mind refusing to cooperate with the rest of her body or if it’s the other way around. The soft noises meeting Mikasa’s ears are hardly recognizable as her own and easily ignored. Not so easy to disregard are the taunts still echoing in her head. Maybe she really is broken, unable to fully enjoy herself even in this basic primal sensation. Annie's teeth scrape over her shoulder and it helps, if barely. The slight pain drags her out of her thoughts a little bit, but it's not enough to get her out of her head entirely.
Mikasa doubts Annie notices her discomfort. She’s not looking at her, head down to mouth at Mikasa’s neck. Mikasa hasn’t said anything to make her stop, is responding positively at least on the physical level. Annie keeps going, rocking their hips together, probably lost in the slick slide of their bodies that Mikasa can only pay half attention to.
The pressure builds until, gasping, Mikasa feels her body seize up under her, a wave of pleasure rocking through her that is directly contrary to what her brain has saying about the situation. Orgasm makes her head go blissfully silent for at least the moment, and when it’s over Mikasa’s not sure whether to be relieved or disgusted at her traitorous body. But it doesn’t matter, now. Not as Annie continues to grind their lower bodies together, causing Mikasa to suck in more air because now the sensation is almost overwhelming.
She can feel Annie’s thighs tremble around her own between them, and then Annie’s whole body shudders and she lets out a small cry into the juncture of Mikasa’s shoulder.
There’s relative silence for a moment, the only sound the heavy breathing of two girls reclaiming air into their lungs, chests still pressed together. Then Annie shifts her leg out from between Mikasa’s, rolls off of her and flops down onto her back. She doesn’t meet Mikasa's searching look in response to the abrupt move.
It’s not that Mikasa was expecting to stay and cuddle or anything, but she's slow to move, lost in the conflict between her warring thoughts. She didn't feel any different or any more likely to be able to participate the next time the topic of sex was brought up. Trying to move as quietly as possible, she sits up and starts picking her clothing off of the floor. Her knees feel a bit wobbly as she stands, but she refuses to let them visibly quake. Mind over matter, wasn’t that how the expression went? Her mind had been all over the place tonight, so maybe it didn’t make much difference either way. What had been done was done, and even though she wasn’t fixed, she had tried. What else was there to do?
"You know how they’re calling you a machine?" Annie says, snapping Mikasa out of her contemplation. Her ice blue eyes are still staring straight upwards even as Mikasa’s gaze falls back on her. She must have heard Hannah’s shout earlier, and the thought floods dread into Mikasa's stomach.
There's a short pause, and then, "Well, you're not." The other girl turns onto her side and curls a hand over the back of her neck. The movement is almost sheepish, as if she’s protecting herself from the vulnerability that comes with the laying bare of a part of her that isn’t physical. Mikasa lets out the breath she'd unconsciously held waiting for Annie's judgement and takes the hint that their interaction is over. She slips her shirt back on quickly and pads across the room to her own bunk to sort out the rest of the clothing still held in her arms.
She doesn't know how those simple three words lift a weight off of her chest, but they do. Mikasa feels a lot more whole again with the assurance that at least one person doesn't think she’s inhuman. It doesn’t matter that Annie doesn’t know the context of Hannah’s words, doesn’t matter what possible motives may lay behind her words and actions; nothing matters except that Mikasa no longer hears the teasing words that had felt like a dagger in the back.
It might be hours yet until the others return to the barracks, but Mikasa settles beneath her blanket. If her hesitantly whispered "Thanks, Leonhardt," makes it across the room, Annie doesn't show any signs of hearing the words.
But it's the thought that counts, and Mikasa's thoughts don't feel as heavy anymore.