Chapter Text
It was close to seven in the evening when Mikasa’s phone rang. Checking the screen, she immediately answered.
“Are you sure you don’t want to come? I really don’t want to go alone,” said Sasha, her best friend.
It was the third time that day Sasha had asked the same question, and it was about to be the third time Mikasa gave the same answer.
“I don’t think so. I already told you I have to wake up early tomorrow,” she replied, nibbling on the end of a pencil.
“Come on, Mika, it’ll only be for a little while. This is the first time we’ve been invited to a college party.”
Mikasa tilted her head back against the desk chair, sighing as her eyes drifted to the ceiling fan. Sasha was always the one pushing her into social life; Mikasa herself was shy, far more comfortable within the four walls of her room.
“There’ll be plenty of hot guys. Just say yes,” Sasha pleaded, using the tone she always fell back on when she wanted something.
Mikasa glanced at the clock. It was still early. Luckily, her grandmother wouldn’t be back from her trip for another two days—so sneaking out wouldn’t be a problem.
“Fine. I’ll go. But only for a little while.”
She had to pull the phone away from her ear when Sasha squealed, followed by a rapid: “I’ll be at your place in twenty minutes!” and “Wear something sexy!” Rolling her eyes at the last comment, Mikasa hung up. With no real rush, she stood and went to get dressed.
She caught her reflection in the mirror: gray eyes shining intensely, cheeks still flushed with the youth of her seventeen years—months away from adulthood. Yet that youth carried a constant shadow. Her mother had died when she was ten—not from accident or illness, but by her own abrupt, unexplained choice. The woman who had once held her with tender care had taken her own life, leaving behind a void impossible to fill. As for her father, he was little more than a fading echo—he had left shortly after she was born, leaving only a note confessing that fatherhood wasn’t for him.
It was her maternal grandmother who took her in, though never with true closeness. The Azumabito family business consumed nearly all her time, and whenever Mikasa sought affection, the answer was always the same: “It’s for the good of our family.” Eventually, Mikasa stopped asking.
Still, she never lacked material comfort. She grew up in an elegant house in an affluent Shiganshina neighborhood, surrounded by pretentious neighbors whose lives revolved around flaunting wealth. In the midst of that loneliness, she found refuge in herself—and, more recently, in an unexpected passion: photography. She had managed to convince her grandmother to set up a small darkroom, a private sanctuary where she spent hours after school. She had even planned a trip outside the city the next day to capture new landscapes—though now she wasn’t sure if she’d keep to that plan.
Dressing quickly, she pulled on tights, a black skirt with a wide belt, a pink sweater, and dark ankle boots. She tied her shoulder-length hair into a half ponytail, letting a few strands fall to frame her face. Makeup was a debate, but in the end, she chose the bare minimum: mascara and a touch of lip gloss.
Moments later, Sasha texted that she was outside. Mikasa gave herself one last glance in the mirror, dabbed on a bit of perfume, grabbed her bag, and left her room.
“Don’t you think that’s enough?” Mikasa asked as she watched Sasha down her third shot of tequila with unshaken enthusiasm.
“Not at all. At last week’s party—the one you ditched me for—” Sasha gave her a reproachful look, “—I drank strawberry vodka. Believe me, it was way stronger than this. And I still made it home just fine.”
“You say that because we’re still young,” Mikasa replied seriously. “I doubt you’ll feel the same in a few years.”
“Then let’s enjoy it while we can,” Sasha grinned, offering her what looked like a mojito.
Mikasa hesitated. She’d never been drunk before—never drank more than a few polite sips at family gatherings.
“I don’t know if I should…” she murmured, uneasy.
“Come on, just one. Relax a little—you’re always so tense.”
Finally, Mikasa took the glass and downed it in one go.
“Not so fast!” Sasha protested with a laugh. “You were supposed to taste it, not make it disappear.”
Mikasa frowned at the fresh mix of mint and rum lingering on her tongue. Maybe she had rushed it a bit.
“In a few weeks we’ll be in college,” Sasha said, spinning her glass between her fingers. “Might as well start making friends now.”
“So that’s why you dragged me to a party where ninety percent of the people are over twenty?”
“Exactly. Most of them know Connie, anyway. Speaking of…” Sasha stretched up on her toes, scanning the crowd. “Haven’t seen him yet.”
Connie—her classmate and Sasha’s best friend—was one of those effortlessly charismatic people everyone liked. A few minutes later, Sasha’s phone buzzed.
“It’s Connie,” she announced. “He’s on his way—something came up.”
Mikasa nodded, feeling her body loosen. The initial tension was fading, and before she realized it, she was moving with the rhythm of the music. Most of the crowd were college students, which unsettled her; in two weeks, she would be one of them, though the thought left a bitter taste. Her grandmother insisted she study business administration to inherit the family empire, but Mikasa wanted nothing more than to become a doctor. Just thinking about it made her chest tighten.
Without giving it much thought, she grabbed a rum and Coke and drank it in a gulp. For at least one night, she wanted to silence those worries.
“There you are!” Sasha waved as Connie finally arrived, a blond boy with bright blue eyes in tow.
“Good evening, my lovely ladies,” Connie greeted with his usual flourish. “This is Armin—my friend and the host.”
Both girls said hello. Armin seemed kind, maybe even a little shy.
“Nice to meet you. I hope you’re enjoying yourselves but…” His eyes flicked to their empty glasses. “Are you sure you’re old enough?”
Mikasa and Sasha exchanged a look.
“Almost,” Sasha replied with a cheeky smile. “And besides, we’re responsible girls.”
“Don’t worry,” Connie cut in, slipping between them with his arms over their shoulders. “I’ll make sure they don’t drink too much and get home safe.”
“We don’t need a babysitter!” Sasha snapped.
Armin chuckled softly, shaking his head at the exchange.
“Then I’ll leave them to you, Connie. I’ve got more guests to attend to,” he said, disappearing back into the crowd.
The night flowed with conversations and introductions. Most were students from different majors, which helped Mikasa ease her shyness—though never completely. That was when, on her way to get some air, she saw him.
At the far end of the room stood a tall young man, dressed almost entirely in black, hair tied back, a cigarette balanced between his fingers. He leaned casually against the wall, radiating a dangerous calm.
There was something about him—something beyond his obvious good looks—that drew her in more than anyone had before. She couldn’t tell if it was simple attraction at first sight or something deeper. But when he lifted his head and his piercing green eyes locked on hers, heat rushed to her face. She quickly averted her gaze, embarrassed, and slipped away to the bathroom to splash her face with cold water.
When she returned, Sasha gave her a curious look.
“Are you okay?” she shouted over the music.
Mikasa shook her head quickly, pretending nothing was wrong. But it wasn’t long before she felt it again—that gaze. She turned slightly, and there he was, still surrounded by people yet positioned so he could watch her without effort.
She tried to ignore it, though the tension betrayed her. Not even the alcohol gave her the courage to approach. Until, to her surprise, he started walking toward her. Mikasa’s heart pounded; she pretended to look elsewhere, though her eyes trailed him in secret. He was only steps away when Armin appeared, whispered something in his ear, and the boy’s expression hardened before he walked off with him.
Mikasa froze, caught between confusion and disappointment. The rest of the night, she saw Armin several times—but the boy with the green eyes never reappeared.