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"Let her in," Floch said into the radio. His tone was far from pleasant. Anyone who had just endured thirteen hours of flight, leaving the safety of the island behind for the land of Hizuru, would hardly be in a cheerful mood.
A discreet black sedan pulled through the gate. Inside was Mikasa Ackerman—though here, she went by Mikasa Azumabito, lest anyone link her to the Devil Island. Floch allowed himself a cold smirk. Someone from the estate asked if he wished to retire. There were plenty of empty rooms, kept pristine at all times by the staff whose sole purpose was to maintain this clandestine residence, ready for their master's arrival at a moment's notice.
Don't even think about getting rid of me, he thought. Nations led by Marley wanted your head on a platter, and these easterners were the very definition of fence-sitters. He wasn't stupid enough to bother Eren with such complaints again. The expression on Eren's face during the flight had made it abundantly clear that if Floch didn't shut his mouth, he would be thrown out of the plane at altitude. In Eren's absence, he, the self-appointed second-in-command, was the one in charge. Floch waved the staff away, dragged a chair into position, and sat down straddling it backward, folding his arms across the backrest.
Before long, another figure appeared at the far end of the hall, ignoring his orders and striding directly toward him. Just as she was about to pass Floch and enter the deeper corridor beyond, he rose abruptly and blocked the path of the dark-haired, half-Eastern woman.
To be fair, she was beautiful. There was a coolness to her, a certain detachment that set her apart from other beauties. No wonder Yeager had lost his head over her. Mikasa's fine brows drew together.
"You can't just walk in like that," he said. "For all I know, you could be carrying a weapon to assassinate someone."
"I'm not." Her voice was level, completely unruffled. She moved to step around him.
"It's not a matter of whether you say so or not." Floch gritted his teeth. He had meant to seize her arm, but the cold light flashing from those deep black eyes stopped him short. Instead, he settled for blocking her path with his body. "This is a routine inspection. You're no exception."
"You bring nothing with you." The irritation sparked by her glare hardened into imperious resolve. "Not even your clothes."
Mikasa's frown deepened by the second. He folded his arms, radiating a stubborn indifference to whatever she might think. Eren Yeager had traveled all this way to see his mistress. All because this woman refused to stay on Paradis, he had set up a residence abroad expressly for their rendezvous. "Louise will search you," he summoned a young girl with short blonde hair.
Louise led her into another room. It was empty, windowless, lit only by the wall sconces. The moment the blonde girl stepped in, she closed the door behind them. Mikasa removed her coat, revealing a fitted slip dress that traced the contours of her figure, leaving no place to conceal anything.
"Please remove the dress as well," Louise said. "I can assist if needed. "
Mikasa paused for two beats. Then she reached one hand to her waist and pulled down the zipper. The long dress pooled at her feet. She stepped free of the fabric, her bare body catching the warm light. A nymph born at the edge of dusk might have looked exactly like this. Louise's breath caught. This beautiful woman bore so many old wounds, carved by blades and bullets, faded now to pale lines like the cracks in mended porcelain. Less a goddess than a soldier who had clawed her way through years of battle.
"Are we done?" Mikasa said coldly. She made no move to cover herself. Her underwear was plain and unadorned.
Louise clutched the clothes in her arms. "Mr. Forster's orders were that you remove everything before you can go in and meet Mr. Yeager."
Only then did Mikasa realize what "not even your clothes" had truly meant.
The silence in the room thickened with restrained anger. Louise blurted out, "Mr. Forster is only thinking of Mr. Yeager’s safety. Surely you understand the position he’s in."
She had little faith the words would land. But to her surprise, they did. Wordlessly, Mikasa pulled off her bra and underwear. She stood naked beneath the light, and Louise suddenly found herself unable to look at her any longer.
"Take the first door on the left," she said quickly.
When Mikasa stepped into the suite, Eren was seated behind the desk. She did not knock. He looked up with the irritation of someone who had been disturbed. The moment he saw her, his eyes widened, and the displeasure on his face gave way to a look of keen interest.
He rested his chin on one hand. "Hm. Mikasa."
"Your man told me to come in like this," she said. "In case I tried to assassinate you."
"That idiot Floch." His tone was light, giving little away. Even as he spoke, his gaze continued to drink her in, following the natural rise and fall of her chest with each breath. It was hard to imagine that the leader of the Yeagerists could actually blush slightly in a moment like this. "Come here."
The room was warm enough, the curtains drawn tight. Even standing there with nothing on, she felt no trace of the cold. Eren rapped his knuckles against the desk, urging her to hurry over. The moment she reached him, he pulled her onto his lap, one hand encircling her waist.
"Did he see you like this?"
Mikasa shook her head, recalling the girl's name. "He called Louise over."
"At least he still has some sense." Eren adjusted their position as he held her, sinking back into the large armchair. The crisp fabric of his suit brushed against her bare back, smooth and cool.
"Eren." Mikasa called his name softly. He answered with a low murmur, his voice sounding right beside her ear. He rested his chin in the hollow of her shoulder, while the hand that had been tracing the line of her waist moved forward to cover her lower abdomen, pressing down slightly.
He said, "Floch should count himself lucky he didn't see anything. I would kill any man who saw you naked."
His tone was light, almost casual, but the menace beneath it was absolute. By now, Mikasa no longer wanted to think about how many people he had destroyed to get where he was. Even if it was Floch, she still disliked Eren's disregard for human life. But she had not come here to argue with him.
"How are Sasha and the others?" she asked.
Many of their friends had refused to join the Yeagerists. Hange and Armin, among them, had been forced to flee overseas and seek political asylum. Sasha had stayed on Paradis. She had opened a bakery, and under the protection of the island's highest authority, no one dared cause her trouble.
"If you were willing to return to the island, everyone would be delighted," Eren said slowly. "You wouldn't have to take up any position like Jean and the others did. You could return to Shiganshina. I’ve had someone keep your parents' old house clean all this time. As long as you're willing to come back, I promise no one will disturb you."
Mikasa said nothing for a moment. He took her left breast into his palm, its fullness fitting against his hand as he toyed with it, then slid his hand upward to press against her warm skin, feeling the beat of her heart. "Well? Mikasa." He spoke against the side of her neck, his lips barely touching her skin. "You smell so good," he murmured.
"...I don't want to talk about this." She flinched from the sting of his bite, then he ran his tongue over the spot, as if to soothe, as if to brand it deeper. The bite mark Eren had left was too high—she would probably need powder to cover it.
"I missed you, Eren. It's been so long." She turned toward him and placed a small kiss on his jaw. The new stubble he had not yet shaved prickled her skin. Eren's expression softened slightly. She noticed the dark circles beneath his eyes and his dry, cracked lips.
"You should drink more water. Your lips are parched," she told him.
When they were younger, she used to watch Carla force a salve made from animal fat onto his lips because they were bleeding. Eren would cry out and dodge away, pretending his heroic dignity had suffered a devastating blow.
Her parents were dead. Carla was dead too. And the two of them who remained had become this.
"Mm." Mikasa leaned in to kiss his mouth again, her tongue gently tracing the shape of his lips. Under her tender licking and sucking, his lips grew moist and flushed red. A faint taste of blood spread between their mouths.
"I missed you too, Mikasa. I missed you kissing me like this." He mumbled against her lips. "I missed having you in my arms."
She opened her mouth, and their lips and teeth met. As he kissed her deeply, his hands moved over her body as if confirming that she was truly there.
She knew she was wet, and suspected that Eren knew it as well. The fabric of his trousers beneath her was already creasing from the dampness. His fingertips brushed over her bare cunt, then he grasped her by the thighs and lifted her up.
"Let's eat first. I'll have them bring the food in."
He picked up the phone on the desk and gave a few instructions. When the food arrived, he went out to fetch it himself. Mikasa had thought his men would bring her clothes as well, but the cart he wheeled inside held only plates of exquisitely prepared dishes, one after another. He told her to eat more, because it was only when she was here that the estate staff truly had something to do.
She ought to have been living here, leading the life of a princess befitting the noble Azumabito name. The calluses on her palms, the old scars on her body—an entire professional beauty team would be devoted to finding ways to erase them. Even the deepest scar beneath her right eye, they would smooth over like plastering over a crack in a wall. A delicate bird kept in a gilded cage, whose only job was to wait for Eren's arrival.
She had refused.
The dishes, a blend of Paradis and Hizuru flavors, were exquisite. The chef had clearly put a great deal of effort into them, even taking into account their different backgrounds. Few people knew that Mikasa had grown up alongside Eren, and their tastes were actually quite similar.
Eren had returned to the same state he had been in when he first watched her walk in. He ate with a hearty appetite, tearing apart a quail. Under the almost tangible weight of his gaze from across the table, Mikasa found it difficult to truly savor anything.
"Stop looking at me," she said quietly. Mikasa had thought they would have sex soon, which was why she had put up with being unclothed until now.
"Are you cold?"
"No. I just want my clothes back."
"It's only the two of us here," Eren said. "Remember what I told you? If any other man dared to look at you...Just stay like this. All right, Mikasa?"
Dessert was pudding. The small shell-shaped spoon, originally meant for eating caviar, worked just as well for scooping pudding. A drop of caramel syrup slid onto her collarbone. Eren circled the table, bent down, and licked it away. Then he walked off as if nothing had happened.
After the meal, Eren began attending to paperwork. They were probably urgent, so Mikasa could only pick up a book at random and read. At Eren's request, she sat where he could look up and see her. She kept her knees together, then crossed her left leg over her right. The adjustments were subtle, made whenever he wasn't looking. Each time she tried to shift, the leather sofa beneath her only heightened the uncomfortable stickiness of her bare skin against it.
The book she had taken was A History of Ancient Eldia. A weak tribe had grown into a vast empire. At the height of its power, nations such as Marley had been nothing more than provinces of Eldia. Then came betrayal and division, and some of their ancestors fled to Paradis Island. What if she wrapped herself in the curtains? Like the robes worn by the ancient Eldians... Mikasa closed the book, stood up, and walked behind Eren.
She placed both hands on his shoulders and kneaded them with practiced ease. Eren tilted his head back to look at her. "Keep going, Mikasa."
"Your muscles are too tight. You should rest properly."
"There's no time. We have too many enemies, and too few people we can actually rely on..." He let out a low sigh of relief. "Ah, yes. Right there."
Mikasa rotated her thumbs, pressing into the area around his neck and shoulders. The quiet sound Eren made as he relaxed brought a faint warmth to her ears.
"If you collapse, none of your preparations will matter."
"Without my friends beside me, I can't sleep at all."
His two most loyal friends—one now living in exile overseas, the other standing right behind him. Mikasa pretended not to understand his meaning. "There are many people loyal to you. You even have a faction named after your own surname."
Eren Yeager gave a noncommittal hum. "The island is being infiltrated. Those royalists, and the remnants of the old government, are beginning to make their moves. Captain Levi sent me a letter. He told me someone tried to contact him. He refused, but he still has no intention of joining our side."
"I imagine the tone of the letter wasn't nearly as friendly as the way you're telling it."
"Of course not."
Both she and Eren laughed, as if they had returned to the days when they were still with the corps. Eren rested his head against her hands and closed his eyes.
"In the past month alone, I've survived three assassination attempts. Two comrades died because of them. The one who made it all the way to me even looked familiar. He'd served in the capital's Military Police back during the old royal government's rule. The people who want me dead aren't just outside the island. There are traitors among us too."
Just like the former president you assassinated. "No wonder Floch is so tense. He doesn't trust me."
"Enemies are everywhere." Eren spoke darkly. He opened his eyes. "Mikasa. Who do you think the enemy is?"
She remained silent.
"You think the enemy is me." There was a hint of sorrow in his voice.
He took her hand and held it against his lips for a long moment, his gray-green eyes fixed on her. "I don't care. As long as you're still willing to stay by my side."
"Yes," Mikasa answered softly. "Because I love you."
She stepped in front of him. Eren wrapped his arms around her waist and buried his face against her. He lingered for a while, brushing his nose against her lower abdomen. The muscles of her abdomen were still as firm as they had been during her years in the Corps.
She was an excellent soldier. Better than him. She always had been.
Suddenly, Eren tightened his arms and lifted her whole body onto the massive desk. The hand Mikasa had rested on his shoulder reached behind her, pressing against the desk to steady herself.
He licked his painfully dry lips. "I need water."
The glass was right beside Mikasa's hand. She was just about to reach for it when his movement froze her in place. He lowered his head between her legs, fingers digging deep into her hips as he forced her thighs apart. His mouth pressed against her slick opening, and his throat bobbed as he drank her in. Her voice caught. "Eren..."
He raised his head a little, the bridge of his nose pressing against her clit while his tongue kept licking in messy, unruly strokes, lapping up the tide that kept flowing from inside her. She placed a hand against the back of his head, as if to steady herself. A few strands of dark hair had slipped loose from her bun and now brushed against her skin. Mikasa instinctively tightened her grip around the ends of his hair, arching her body when he took her clit into his mouth. Eren cupped her hips and pulled her close again, refusing to let her retreat.
"Not enough." He pressed a few wet kisses to the inside of her thigh. Just as Mikasa stopped biting her lower lip, he returned without warning to her core. She could hear him swallowing, the sound distinct against the breathing that filled the room. Her other hand slid into his long hair, combing through it with slow, careful strokes. Eren did not lift his head, completely focused on driving her to the peak.
Through her increasingly blurred vision, Mikasa looked down at her own hands cradling his head. With only a turn of her wrists—there would be little pain, little resistance—she could solve a problem that had troubled the world.
A loud crash came from Eren's room. A scream tore through the walls, and Floch immediately slammed the door open. The pain shooting through his shoulder kept him from seeing the scene clearly; before he could make sense of what was happening, a figure had already stepped in front of the desk.
"Get out!" Eren roared.
Behind him, Mikasa Ackerman was draped in a suit jacket. Aside from her lower legs hanging beyond the edge of the desk, she was completely covered.
Floch dropped his gaze at once. In that split second, he had glimpsed the objects scattered across the desk and the armchair toppled onto its side. "Eren," he ventured, "is something wrong?"
Eren bellowed in fury, "Can't you understand what I said? Get the hell out!" His hair was loose, his shirt wrinkled, with a loosened tie hanging from his collar.
"I'm sorry, boss. Didn't see a thing." Floch raised both hands, turned around, and quickly shut the door.
Eren roared after him, "Get as far away from here as you can! And don't fucking eavesdrop!"
He tore off his tie, still panting heavily with rage. His face was flushed, the color spreading down his neck. Mikasa gathered up the jacket Eren had thrown to her, tucking her legs inside as well. Earlier, when Eren had been holding her down and gone too far, she had accidentally kicked the chair over.
He drew a few harsh breaths, righted the armchair, and kept cursing Floch under his breath. But she knew Eren would not truly do anything to him, at least not until he had found someone to replace him.
She slid down from the desk, carefully avoiding stepping on the documents scattered across the floor. Half of the landline phone was still hanging over the edge of the desk, and she set it back into place. When Eren had gripped her waist and slammed into her with such intensity that it seemed like the only place he could confirm his own existence, all Mikasa could do was try to hold on to whatever came within her reach.
Eren sat back down in the chair, resting his forehead against his hand as he fell quiet. "Forget the mess, Mikasa," he said to her. Though a trace of desire still lingered in his eyes, he covered his face with both hands, as though he could not bear the sight of what lay before him, of everything his life had become. "I'm sorry. Next time I won't give those bastards a chance to get close."
Mikasa slipped her arms into the sleeves. Eren's jacket hung low enough to cover the top of her thighs. "Don't be angry."
"I'm so sick of it... all of it. This whole Eldian mess... sometimes I just want to destroy everything." His voice was low. " If I were nobody... if I were still the same as you and Armin... would you not hate me?" No one answered him. He was only talking to himself. Eren lowered his hands and looked at Mikasa. "Are you all right? Did you hurt yourself just now?"
"I'm not the one you need to worry about."
"You're the only one I’m worried about here." He frowned. He reached out with his fingertips and brushed them over Mikasa's smooth calf, checking for any bruise that might be hiding there.
Mikasa glanced pointedly at his crotch. "You haven't finished yet."
She crouched down; his pants zipper had only been half-zipped to begin with. She freed his semi-erect dick, wrapped her hand around his length and began stroking. Mikasa lowered her head and licked it, tasting the pre-cum mixed with her own flavor. Eren let out a long sigh. He didn’t rush her; simply watched as Mikasa took his tip into her mouth, covered her teeth with her lips, intently swallowing it deeper. Her eyes, visible beneath the desk, were as dark as two deep wells.
They maintained eye contact. He touched the back of her throat, and his jaw twitched with pleasure. Eren did nothing, his clenched fist resting on his thigh. Mikasa pulled back slightly, then used her fingers to caress his balls. Even if someone else burst in, they would only see him sitting alone behind the desk. Mikasa sucked his dick until his cum shot into her throat; only then did he finally pull her up and gently kiss her on the lips.
Louise brought her clothes over. Mikasa dressed in front of Eren, piece by piece: underwear, dress, coat. Once again, she looked like a person who belonged to the normal world. Eren, by contrast, no longer looked composed and tidy. His hair was disheveled, and his jacket had been casually thrown over the back of the chair.
"That's a lovely dress." He had learned to say things like that now. When he was younger, he had been blind to the flower-like beauty of the girls in their unit, yet he could always notice at a glance when her hair had grown a little longer.
She had chosen it specifically for this meeting with him. Before leaving, she and Eren held each other for a long time, not as the leader and his mistress, but simply as two friends who did not know if they would see each other again.
Louise was waiting outside to escort her out. At the far end of the dim room, Floch stood with several others, talking. Those suit-clad faces, so arrogant outside, seemed small and ingratiating before Floch. They were all curious about her, stealing glances in her direction in a way they no doubt believed was discreet.
Ignoring Louise's confusion, Mikasa walked straight toward them.
Floch raised his brows at her. He might have been on guard, but Mikasa moved so fast that the people around them had no time to react. In the space of a breath, she had already driven him face-down onto the floor, her elbow locking around his throat and cutting off his air. The arm restraining him was as heavy as iron, and Floch's struggles grew weaker and weaker.
"Now you know I can assassinate someone without a weapon," she said. She wasn't even out of breath.
Mikasa released Floch. She ignored the guns being drawn around her, ignored Floch's frantic attempts to stop his own men. Louise was shouting something behind her. Mikasa heard Eren's name, and her own. She left without looking back.