Eren struggled against Mikasa's grip, his fists trembling with frustration.
"Let go of me, Mikasa! I need to teach that bloody fool a lesson!" he growled, trying to pry her hand off his collar. But her grip was unyielding—like iron shackles that refused to break.
"No, Eren. That's enough," she said, her voice loud and firm.
Without hesitation, she tossed him toward a nearby wooden building wall like he weighed nothing more than a sack of grain.
CRASH!!
Eren collided with the wall, his back slamming against the rough wooden planks. His bag fell to the ground, and the neatly bundled firewood scattered across the dirt road. Dust and tiny splinters filled the air.
Groaning, Eren pushed himself up, brushing dirt off his clothes. His frustration boiled over.
"What the hell was that for?! Now the firewood's all over the place!"
Mikasa, unfazed by his outburst, stood her ground.
"Have your feelings about joining the Survey Corps changed?"
Eren fell silent. The fire inside him still burned, but for a brief moment, he couldn't find the words to answer.
"...Help me pick up the wood," he muttered, avoiding her gaze.
Mikasa said nothing, but she knelt down and began gathering the scattered pieces. The two worked in silence, the only sounds came was the shuffling of wood and the distant chatter of townspeople.
As they walked home, the setting sun bathed the district in shades of orange and red. The streets of Shiganshina were lined with simple wooden houses, their rooftops patched with whatever materials the residents could find.
Some houses had flower pots near their windows, while others had signs of cracks in the wood, broken window covers.
Eren's house stood atop a small hill at the edge of the district, overlooking the quiet streets below. It wasn't grand, but it had an air of warmth, a place that always smelled of home-cooked meals and freshly washed linens.
Eren pushed open the wooden door.
"We're home!" he called out.
Inside, the late afternoon light streamed through the kitchen window, casting long shadows across the wooden floor. Carla Yeager stood at the sink, washing dishes, her long black hair loosely tied over her right shoulder. The soft clinking of plates filled the air.
Seated at the table was Grisha Yeager, his round glasses perched on his nose as he flipped through a thick, brown book. His doctor's bag rested on the table beside him. He wore a white shirt beneath a dark vest and a long coat hung over the back of his chair.
Grisha looked up briefly. "Welcome back."
Mikasa walked over to the corner of the room, carefully stacking the firewood in a wooden box. Eren slumped into the chair across from his father, crossing his arms.
Carla wiped the table with a damp rag, glancing at them. "You two are late."
"Well, yeah, Eren said," Mikasa began, but Eren, sensing what she was about to say, quickly cut in.
"Some stuff happened…" He turned to his father, changing the subject. "Huh? Dad, are you going out now?"
"Yeah, I have to see a patient two towns up," he said, eyes fixed on the book.
Mikasa stiffened. Something bothered her—an uneasy feeling deep in her chest. Now was the time to spit it out. If they waited any longer, it would be too late, even if she was seen as a traitor.
She turned to Carla. "Eren said he wants to join the Survey Corps."
Eren's breath caught in his throat. He spun toward her, his face a mixture of shock and betrayal.
"Mikasa!! I told you not to tell them!"
The room fell into heavy silence. Carla's eyes widened in horror as she stepped toward Eren, gripping his arm. Her hands trembled.
"Eren," she gasped. Her voice was desperate, her gaze locking onto his as if searching for some sign that he wasn't serious. "What are you thinking?! Do you know how many people have died just because they dared to venture outside the Walls?"
Eren clenched his fists. "Yes, I know."
Across the table, Grisha finally looked up, his glasses reflecting the sunlight.
"Eren," he said, his voice calm yet firm. "Why do you want to go outside?"
Eren met his father's gaze, his heart pounding. "I hate the idea of spending my whole life inside the Walls… Ignorant of what's happening in the world outside!" His voice rose with conviction. "If no one takes the risk… if no one carries on… then everyone who died up to now died in vain!"
A brief silence followed. Then, to Eren's surprise, his father nodded slightly.
"I see."
Grisha stood, gathering his bag. "Well, I'd better be going. The boat leaves soon."
Carla stared at him in disbelief. "Grisha… talk some sense into your son!"
He turned to face her, his expression unreadable. "Carla, it doesn't matter what anyone says. There's no stopping an inquisitive mind."
Eren blinked. Of all people, his father was the only one who seemed to understand him.
Grisha walked over and placed a hand on Eren's shoulder. "Eren… when I get home…" His voice dropped slightly as he reached into his coat pocket, pulling out a small, silver key tied to a thin thread. He held it up for Eren to see.
"I'll show you what's in the basement. The secret I've been keeping all this time."
Eren stared at the key, the weight of his father's words sinking in.
Something inside him told him that after today, nothing would ever be the same.