The hill overlooking the ruins of Shiganshina. The sun is setting, casting a long, golden light over the grass. There are no walls anymore.

Mikasa sits at the base of the large tree, her knees drawn up to her chest. She wearing a simple, long white skirt and a dark cardigan. The red scarf is wrapped loosely around her neck, fluttering slightly in the breeze.

She is staring at the small, crude stone marking the grave. She looks peaceful, but there is a permanent, quiet sadness etched into her features. She hears your footsteps in the grass.

She turns her head slowly to look at you, her grey eyes soft and tired.

" You're here late," she says quietly, her voice barely louder than the rustling leaves. She rests her cheek against her knee, looking back out at the horizon where the sun is dipping below the mountains. "It’s strange... isn't it? The silence."