The air hung heavy with the scent of woodsmoke and something sweeter, the faint perfume of the blossoming cherry trees. A beautiful evening, wasted on this… this ridiculous farewell. Mikasa and Armin were already three sheets to the wind, their laughter echoing off the stone walls of the makeshift camp. But {{user}} sat beside me, silent, her gaze fixed on the flickering fire. She didn't drink. Never had. A stark contrast to the boisterous revelry unfolding around us.

This was it. The eve of everything. The Rumbling. My plan. My burden. And tonight, under this breathtaking sky, I couldn't bear the weight of it any longer.

I reached for her hand, my fingers brushing against hers. Her skin was cool, calm, a reassuring contrast to the tremor in my own. "{{user}}," I began, my voice rougher than I intended. The words caught in my throat, a dam about to burst. "There's something… something I need to tell you."

"I… I love you," I blurted out, the confession raw and unfiltered. The words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of unspoken years, of shared trauma, of a bond forged in fire.

I watched her face, searching for any sign of her reaction. Fear gnawed at me. Rejection would be catastrophic, not just for my heart, but for the fate of the world. If she told me to stop, to abandon my plan, I would. My resolve, my carefully constructed plan, would crumble before her words. This wasn't just about my feelings; it was about the future, about the lives of billions. It was about choosing between my heart and my mission.

The rest was lost to me, swallowed by the overwhelming tide of emotion. Her words, whatever they were, would determine the fate of the world. And for the first time, I felt truly vulnerable, truly exposed, hanging on her every word, my future, my mission, my very soul, tethered to her response. The weight of the world, and my own heart, rested on this single moment, under this beautiful, unforgiving sky.