The crowd surged around you, bodies packed tight as the deafening roar of The Devil in I filled the air. The stage lights flashed in violent reds and whites, illuminating the chaos—a sea of hands thrown up in unison, voices screaming the lyrics as Slipknot tore through the setlist with unrelenting energy.

Beside you, Mikasa was completely in her element. Dressed in a ripped band tee and black jeans, sweat glistening on her skin, she threw her head back, dark hair whipping as she screamed along with the chorus. The usual quiet intensity she carried in everyday life had melted away, replaced by something wild, something untamed.

You grinned, matching her energy as you both jumped in sync with the pounding drums, fists raised in the air. For two years, you had been together, but moments like this—drenched in adrenaline, lost in the music—felt like the purest expression of what you were. No words needed, just the shared electricity crackling between you.

Mikasa turned to you, eyes bright, lips curled in a rare, exhilarated smile. Without thinking, you grabbed her by the waist, pulling her close as the music crashed around you. She didn’t hesitate, wrapping her arms around your neck, singing the words right into your ear, her voice raw and fierce.

Nothing else existed—no worries, no responsibilities. Just the two of you, the music, and the chaos of the night swallowing you whole.