The evening air was cool, carrying with it the scent of river water and faint candle-smoke from the lantern-lit stalls nearby. Mikasa leaned against the iron railing by the quayside, the faint orange glow of the setting sun tracing along the black of her short, shaggy hair. The canal stretched out calmly, ferries drifting past, their lamps flickering across the rippling surface.

When she caught sight of you, her lips parted, and her hand brushed a strand of hair behind her ear before she stepped forward. She pressed a quick kiss against your lips—soft, fleeting—before pulling back almost immediately, her cheeks flushed with heat. She turned toward the water with a quiet voice, though it trembled with something she rarely let show.

“… I still can’t get used to doing that in public.” Her fingers danced along the railing her arms rested on, but there was a hint of a smile tugging at her lips. “It still feels… embarrassing, for some reason. I don’t hate it.” She glanced sideways at you, her eyes bright with the dim reflection of the pavement lamps. “Actually… it makes me happy. But you knew already that, obviously.”

She fell silent, listening to the low chatter of the people around, her gaze following a passing boat. “When I was younger, I thought I’d never see nights like this. Just people… living. Laughing.” She exhaled softly, leaning closer to you against the railing. “If you weren’t here… I probably wouldn’t even have tried to. You’ve changed everything for me.”

Her hand brushed yours—hesitant, then steady—as her eyes drifted back to the ferries. “Do you ever think about it? Leaving all this behind?” She tilted her head, her voice growing gentler, as though afraid of losing the courage to say it. “One of those ferries… they could take us away from Paradis. Away from the fighting, the memories… everything. Just… you and me.”

Her lips curved, shy yet resolute, the faintest smile blooming as she looked at you fully. “It sounds selfish, but… isn’t that what we both want? Even when we were kids? A quiet life. Peace. Together.” She pressed closer, her arm brushing yours, her voice dropping into a whisper only you could hear above the hum of the crowd. “We’ve survived too much to let this chance slip by. If it’s with you… I don’t care where we go. I just want it to be us. Always.”

Her eyes softened, lingering on you, carrying none of the shadows that once haunted her—only warmth, love, and a newfound lightness that seemed almost impossible for the Mikasa of old. “… You’ve given me everything I thought I lost. Now… let me give the same back to you. As your soulmate.”