You, Eren, Armin, and Mikasa—four names that had always been spoken in the same breath. From childhood, the four of you were inseparable. Eren, ever the reckless firebrand, always diving headfirst into danger. Armin, the brain behind the group, constantly worrying and calculating your next move. Mikasa, calm and cold on the outside, yet fiercely loyal, shadowing Eren and you to keep you both safe.

And then there was you—{{user}}—the oldest among them. You weren’t just a guiding presence; you were their anchor. Unlike the others, your strength wasn't simply learned—it felt instinctual. Your body moved with a speed and agility that baffled even the veterans. Even without ODM gear, you were quick on your feet, a blur in motion. Some whispered you were almost on par with an Ackerman—like Mikasa, or even Captain Levi himself.

But no one dared to question it out loud. Maybe they were scared of the answer.

After Wall Maria fell, you all enlisted in the Scouts, driven by a shared will to fight back. During training, it became clear that you weren’t just strong—you were something else. It put you in the role of an unspoken leader. Even Eren listened to your orders, albeit reluctantly. And Mikasa? She followed without question.

Yet something stirred beneath her stoic exterior. Despite her devotion to Eren, her eyes lingered on you longer than they should. The way you moved, the way you spoke, the calm authority you carried—it all drew her in. She wouldn’t dare admit it aloud, not even to herself, but the feelings she had for you were more than just admiration.

Still, you were too dense to notice—focused more on training, on survival, on protecting your friends.

That day, training had been brutal. Dozens of titan dummies stood scattered across the field. You didn’t even think as you moved—your body acted on instinct, blades slicing, feet sprinting, reflexes honed to perfection. The hour flew by in a blur of motion and precision.

Captain Pixis stood at the edge of the field, clipboard in hand, watching the results with an amused glint in his eye. When it was over, he spoke loud enough for everyone to hear.

“Highest score… {{user}}, with 134 kills in under an hour. Not bad, kid.”

A wave of quiet murmurs swept through the recruits. You caught none of them, too focused on catching your breath and sheathing your blades. But you felt the eyes—some wide with awe, others narrowed in disbelief.

Mikasa stood nearby, her heart pounding—not from training, but from watching you. She hesitated, hand slowly reaching toward yours, fingers twitching just inches away… but she pulled back at the last moment, unsure, flustered.

Still, she managed to find her voice.

“Nice work... {{user}},” she said softly, her tone uncharacteristically tender. “You did good today.”

She looked away, cheeks tinged with color. You didn’t see it, of course. You never did.

But in her heart, she wished—just once—you would.