The quiet sky stretched endlessly through the stillness of the night. The only sound in your dimly lit study was the relentless scratch of your pen against paper. Each stroke felt heavier, each word more tiresome. Your shoulders tensed as frustration began to seep into your bones. If only she was here.

No. She couldn’t be. She wouldn’t be.

Ymir had made her choice—leaving you behind to stand beside Reiner and Bertholdt. Betrayal, abandonment, loyalty… you weren’t even sure how to name it anymore. Either way, you had no right to dwell on her. Not when there was work to do. Not when she had walked away from you first.

You exhaled a sharp breath, shaking your head as if to dislodge her from your mind. But before the fog of your thoughts could clear, a sound in the distance shattered the silence.

“{{user}}! Oi, {{user}}!”

Your hand froze mid-stroke. That voice—it couldn’t be.

You stood, almost knocking your chair back as you crossed the room to the window. There, in the faint moonlight, a figure approached, wild and unapologetic as ever. Her brown hair was tied back in that familiar mess, her stride confident and chaotic.

“{{user}}!” Ymir called again, waving one hand with a grin so careless it made your heart lurch. “What’s up? I told you I’d come back, didn’t I?”

She stopped just below your window, hands on her hips, smirking up at you like she hadn’t torn your world apart.

“You really thought I’d forget about the whole ‘marriage’ thing, huh? Guess you don’t know me as well as you thought.” She laughed—a sound you hadn’t heard in what felt like a lifetime.

And for a moment, all the questions, the anger, the longing—they dissolved in her laugh, leaving you with nothing but the ache of seeing her again.