Shattered Hearts

Mist escaped his lips in ragged breaths as he swung the axe, its sharp edge biting deep into the wood with each precise stroke.

The rhythmic thud echoed through the silent forest, blending with the soft rustling of bare branches in the wind. His palms, reddened from the cold, tightened around the worn handle, his muscles straining with each downward swing.

There wasn't much firewood left lying around, so he had to make exceptions, cutting down small trees to keep his family warm. He felt lighter, his body finally his own again.

The pain, the exhaustion—the week of barely being able to stand—was gone, like a bad dream fading into the morning light. He exhaled, rolling his shoulders. Yeah… he felt much better now.

But he didn't let himself believe in that hope too much.

A week ago, a letter arrived from Azumabito. She had thanked him for everything—for helping restore Hizuru to its rightful heirs. And after Mikasa, their children would be the next leaders. Then their children's children, ensuring that Hizuru would never lose its political strength again.

He let out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head. It was almost absurd to think about. The same girl who once clung to his back as a helpless child—the one who had given up on life after witnessing her parents' murder—had now become the queen of a nation.

And yet, for all the years he had known, for all the times he had ignored it, he still found himself awed by the truth he had known all along: Mikasa was a treasure.

His grip on the axe tightened as memories resurfaced—the day they brought her into their home, how he was forced to share his room with her.

She had barely stepped inside before breaking down into sobs, clutching at the warmth of his sheets, and before he even realized what he was doing, he had pulled her into his arms.

After that, she followed him everywhere. At first, he didn't mind. He even felt protective. But as the months dragged on, her constant presence started to get annoying.

He had complained. He had been harsh. But when she wasn't there beside him… it was like something had been ripped away.

She had stayed with him for a year after his mother died. He still remembered the way she held him, how his sobs had soaked into her shirt, how her lips had pressed against his hair in silent comfort. They had never spoken about it again.

And yet, that unspoken understanding between them—those moments of quiet solace—was what he appreciated most.

It was funny, really.

Who would have thought he'd fall for her?

A low rumble rolled through the sky, distant yet deep enough to stir him from his thoughts. Eren blinked, glancing up as a faint droplet broke against his cheek—cold, sharp, and fleeting.

He exhaled, watching as the wind picked up, rustling the trees in a whispering chorus. The storm was coming.

His gaze drifted downward to the half-filled basket of firewood. He should probably gather more—just a little bit more. But then, her voice echoed in his mind.

"Ereh… be quick, kay?"

He smirked, running a hand through his hair. It had already been an hour since he started chopping. She wouldn't mind if he took just a little longer, right?

Still, something in the air felt… off. The kind of stillness that came before a storm. He groaned, stretching his arms before gripping the axe and basket with reddened palms. He scratched the back of his head absently, eyes narrowing at the shifting clouds.

His mind wandered, thoughts drifting somewhere far beyond the trees.

What would the next world be like? Would it be any different? Or would he just end up with Mikasa again? He let out a quiet chuckle at the thought—it was a rare chance, but still.

Maybe he should use his next life to end this cycle. But… how? What did Ymir truly want from him?

His fingers curled around the axe handle. Or maybe…

Maybe he should just propose to Mikasa again. Once he regained his future and past memories.

But even that felt wrong, didn't it? Proposing to another version of her… wasn't that the same as cheating on this one?

Yeah.

Yeah, it was.

Because this Mikasa—his Mikasa—was different. There was no one like her. Not in this world, not in any other.

Another rumble cut through the sky, louder this time, sending a faint vibration through the ground beneath his feet. The wind howled low, threading through the trees in a way that made the leaves tremble. Eren exhaled, shifting the basket in his grip.

Yeah, he'd better head back.

He turned on his heel, boots crunching against the damp earth as he made his way toward the cabin. The sky above had darkened—not quite nightfall, but heavy with something unspoken. The kind of storm that wasn't just rain and wind but something deeper.

A strange unease settled in his chest, one he couldn't quite place.

He shook his head. Maybe he was just overthinking. Maybe he was just tired.

But then—

Lightning cracked across the sky, splitting the heavens in half.

And in that single, blinding flash—

His heart stopped.

A plume of smoke. Rising in the distance.

His breath caught. His pulse hammered.

No.

No, no, no—

The basket hit the ground, forgotten, as he took off sprinting. The trees blurred past him, the wind tearing at his clothes, but he didn't feel it. He didn't feel anything except the sickening, suffocating dread clawing its way up his throat.

Sweat trickled down his temple despite the biting cold, his breath hitching as his heart pounded wildly—so violently it felt as if it might shatter his ribs and tear free from his chest.

Eren's legs burned as he sprinted through the forest, his breath coming in ragged gasps. His teeth clenched as his mind had room for only one thought.

Mikasa. The kids.

The cold air bit at his lungs, but he pushed forward, faster, desperate. The scent of smoke stung his nostrils, faint but unmistakable, and dread sank its claws deep into his chest.

His boots pounded against the damp earth, splashing through puddles as the rain picked up, each drop like ice against his burning skin.

Then, through the thinning trees, he saw it.

Or what was left of it.

His breath caught in his throat, his body lurching forward with sheer momentum before his knees gave out.

The cabin—their home—was nothing more than shattered wood and embers, collapsed in on itself like a broken ribcage. Smoke curled into the sky, black against the storm-gray clouds, and the scent of something far worse than burning wood filled the air.

No… No, no, no—

A hoarse, strangled sound ripped from his throat as he forced himself forward, stumbling over debris, eyes darting frantically in search of them.

And then he saw them.

And his world ended.

His vision blurred as his breath caught in his chest, the air refusing to enter his lungs. His legs barely carried him forward, dragging him through the wreckage, the cold bite of the rain nothing compared to the ice sinking into his veins.

Then, a sound—weak, fragile, trembling—like a thread ready to snap.

"E... Erehh..."

His blood ran cold.

Mikasa.

She stood there against the broken frame of the back door, barely holding herself up, her body drenched in crimson. Her swollen belly, once carrying life, was now painted in death.

Her trembling hands clutched at her abdomen, fingers slick with blood, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she choked on it. Eyes half lidded... Teeth clenched.

Her other hand rose weakly towards him, trembling in the air before her legs finally gave out beneath her. He barely caught her in time, his arms wrapping around her fragile, bleeding form as she collapsed against him.

"Mikasa... What's... What happened.... Y... You're..." His hand pressed against her wound preventing the blood to come out.

And then—she broke.

A wretched, heart-shattering sob tore from her throat, her body convulsing with grief as she clutched at him, her fingers tightening around his shirt as if he were the only thing keeping her tethered to this world.

Eren looked down, his gaze trailing from the blood pooling beneath her to her swollen abdomen, his mind refusing to process the horror in front of him.

"Our babies… Ereh… our babies…" she choked out between ragged breaths. Her bloodied hand lifted, shaking, reaching for his face. And when her palm pressed against his cheek, smearing crimson across his skin, his entire world froze.

"Mi—"

Before he could even say her name, a desperate voice pierced through the storm.

"Papa!! Papa!!"

His heart stopped.

Eren snapped his head around just in time to see Erika, his little Erika, reaching out for him. Her face twisted in agony, her tiny fingers barely grasping at the air—

And then—

Her eyes rolled back.

Her arm hung limp, severed. Her leg twisted at a sickening angle. Her small, broken body collapsed beside him, lifeless, blood gushing out of her mouth and her severed arm.

"AHHHHH!!!" Eren wailed, wide eyed.

"Erika!!!" Mikasa screamed out.

A scream ripped through their throat, raw and unhinged, as his shaking hands reached out, scooping Erika's lifeless form into his arms. Blood tears streamed down his face, burning as they fell, his mind unable to grasp the reality unfolding before him.

He turned back to Mikasa, his vision a blur of red and rain. Her face was buried against his chest, her body still trembling, her grip weak but still holding onto him as her uncontrollable tears seeped into his shirt.

Eren clutched them both—his wife, his daughter—his entire world slipping through his fingers.

"Erika... Erikaaaa…" she sobbed openly, as he struggled to keep her steady in his arms. Her hand, slick with blood tried reaching for Erika but failed to— and he trembled as he held both of them closer.

His bloodied gaze drifted past her for a moment—just a second—and it nearly shattered what was left of his sanity.

Sae lay motionless in a pool of crimson, his arms wrapped protectively around little Faya, as if shielding her even in death.

But there was no warmth in that embrace, no rise and fall of tiny breaths. Faya wasn't crying. She wasn't giggling. She wasn't moving. She was just… resting.

"Sae.... My son wake up.... Please..." His voice broke. As he clutched his forehead in agony. Eren's chest tightened, his throat closing up. He forced himself to look back at Mikasa, his entire body shaking.

"Ereh... Ereh... Sorry... I'm so sorry…" Her voice cracked and he looked at her brushing the blood-matted strands of hair away from her face, desperate, pleading. And she pressed her face against his chest crying with pain, loss and worry. "Don't say that. They'll be fine… They'll be okay. Just—just don't talk, alright? Save your strength."

But even as he spoke, he almost hated himself for it. The words felt like a cruel joke, a masochistic lie he was forcing on both of them. But what else was there to say? What else could he say?

But then—

He looked up.

And his world shattered all over again.

Rin.

His small body lay just a few feet away, alone in the cold. A massive splintered beam of wood had impaled his tiny chest, pinning him lifelessly to the ground.

"Rin... Rin... My son..." His voice cracked and his mind was just fucked up as he pulled Mikasa closer his head resting against her shoulder.

Mikasa let out a weak breath, her hand barely lifting to grasp his shirt.

And then—she pulled back just enough for him to see her face fully.

Eren felt his soul fracture.

She was pale—too pale. Her lips trembled, her teeth clenched as she tried to hold back the sobs racking her fragile body. Her eyes, once filled with fire and strength, now brimmed with helplessness, tears spilling over like shattered glass.

"E… Erehhh…" she whimpered, her voice cracked and broken beyond repair.

His tears fell harder, soaking through her torn clothes, painting her already stained body in deeper shades of red. He cradled her tighter, pressing his forehead to hers, silently begging—pleading for something, anything, that could make this nightmare end.

Mikasa let out a broken sob, her entire body trembling as her bloodied hand rested weakly on her swollen abdomen.

His breath hitched as he adjusted her in his arms, moving as carefully as he could, terrified of hurting her any more than she already was.

"Ereh…" she whimpered, her voice so weak, so unrecognizable that it sent a dagger straight through his heart. Tears streamed freely down her pale face, mixing with the streaks of red already staining her cheeks.

"I didn't want to carry on after you... I wished I died first…" Her voice cracked, choked with sorrow, her body shuddering violently against his own. "But... But I didn't want that for them... They were innocent... Our babies... They had nothing to with this...."

"No—no, don't say that," Eren whispered, shaking his head in fierce denial. His tears fell onto her face, rolling down in thick streaks as he pressed his forehead to hers. His voice was desperate, trembling—pleading.

"It'll be alright... Just... Just don't go..."

And then she started to weep.

It wasn't a quiet sob, nor was it a cry of anger. It was something else entirely—something more primal, more broken. It was the sound of someone who had lost everything.

"Forgive me... Forgive me Eren!"

Her sobs wracked her already fragile frame, her body curling inward as if trying to shield what was no longer there. And Eren—Eren felt helpless, useless, powerless in a way he had never known before.

"I wanted... I wanted to thank you... For everything..."

He wanted to scream. To break. To tear the world apart for what it had done to her, to them.

But all he could do was hold her.

"Mikasa," he whispered, his voice raw, almost pleading. "Don't say that honey... Just stay with me... Please."

She blinked up at him, her eyes dull, unfocused. Her lips trembled, her breath shallow.

And then she forced a weak smile—small, fragile. The kind of smile that would haunt him forever.

"Eren?" she whispers.

"Yeah?" he replies softly, sniffling, refusing to loosen his grip.

She is silent for a while, and he fears that she's.... But then, he feels her light, warm breath on his cheek, feels her lips gently graze against it, feels her fingers fist tightly on his shirt.

"I... I love you."

The words come out in a choked sob, and they should not at all come as a surprise. Yet, they still blindside him completely, and his emerald yet crimson greens widen like saucers, and he is paralyzed in her grip.

She presses her forehead to the side of his cheek, sobbing softly.

"I love you so, so much," she says, voice a quivering, cracked whisper as she weeps, and the words burn and sting and truly fuck him up, his head spinning, stomach turning in both horror and elation, and before he knows what he is doing, he is pulling back only enough to turn his head and press his mouth to hers.

And he finds he never wants to pull away, because, though she tastes of salt from their mingled tears, she is soft and warm, and he's messed up in the head because everything and everyone is slipping away.

When he pulls back, remaining close enough so that their noses are still nearly touching, her eyes flutter open.

She blinks up at him, eyes shining as she tugs weakly at the bottom of his shirt.

"Again," she commands in a whisper.

Despite the circumstances, he chokes out pressing his palm on her cheek. He wants to get up but the blood just wouldn't fucking stop and he doesn't know what can he even do.

What should he do? And she pull him slowly as if commanding him and he looks at her his crimson tears rapidly falling on her face and he doesn't know why but he presses a chaste kiss to her mouth, and he can feel fresh tears begin to stream down her cheeks.

He has barely pulled away when she repeats, "Again," the corners of her lips quirking up in a slight smile at their sick and twisted and beautiful and tragic game.

He obliges, heart breaking and soaring all at once as he moves in, first pressing a kiss to her nose making her eyes crinkle in watery mirth before kissing her full on the mouth once more.

When he pulls back, her eyes are closed, a small smile on her face.

And there is silence.

"Mikasa," he calls her name softly, lifting his other hand to brush her hair from her face.

She does not stir.

"Hey..." he says, voice quivering, blinking tears from his eyes, feeling his throat close completely.

He shakes her lightly, until he is rocking her limp body in his arms like a madman, shouting down at her serene and unflinching face.

"HEY! Mikasa! Mikasa, Mikasa-M-Mikasa," he repeats her name like a mantra, the words slurring together as he shakes her.

Body wracking violently with his sobs, face now doused with tears, he bends to bury his face in her scarf, continuously calling her name, his whimpers muffled as he holds her limp, lifeless body in his arms.

"Don't leave... me. I love you... Please don't... go."

And then, he pulls back, his vocal chords scraping together painfully as he heaves an anguished, guttural scream into the air.

"MIKASAAA!!!" his vocal folds scraping and giving out.

Chest heaving, he gulps for air, face drenched in tears, body convulsing with sobs.

He digs his fingernails into his cheeks in the hopes that the prickle of pain will serve to halt the flow of tears, but the attempt is futile.

"Wake up.... Please.... You can't leave me like this...."

And she's gone....

Her breathing dead....

Eyes roll back...

And hand loosen falling on the crimson painted grass...