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corner-stories · 5 months

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when it's dark in a cold decembre (but i've got you to keep me warm)

Jean Kirschtein. Mikasa Ackerman. Kiyomi Azumabito. Holiday Visits. Awkward Family Dinners. Cuddles. Doggies. 4191 words. (ao3.)

Vancouver is a change of pace. Having grown so used to winters in Montreal — or even his hometown of Trois-Rivieres — arriving at YVR to rain instead of snow leaves him confused.

At least Mikasa seems to find amusement in the poor Quebecer getting soaked in the drizzle.

A rapid transit line takes them from the airport to downtown, then an Uber driver takes them the rest of the way. As the vehicle crosses the Lionsgate Bridge, Jean’s eyes are affixed to the window and towards the rainy city outside.

At this time of night, all he can see is artificial lights — buildings with glass exteriors standing amidst the ocean and coniferous trees. It’s just enough to let him see the outline of the mountains. Above it all are clouds in a dark sky.

The car drives deeper into West Vancouver. The houses lining the roads are built with an emphasis on style and aesthetic, most of them looking to have been designed very recently with walls made of stone and glass.

Mikasa had told him that her Auntie was wealthy, and as the car passes by a house with more driveways and outdoor entertaining space to do with, the sentiment rings true.

Soon enough, the car arrives at the destination.

The house Mikasa grew up in differs from the gray homes adorning the streets. When Jean sees it, his eyes go to the vinyl siding and the rugged roof tiles, attributes that make the craftsman home feel like an island in the ocean of stone and glass houses.

Jean hoists his bags over his shoulder as the Uber driver takes off down the street. Mikasa walks from the street to the curb, comfortably taking her boyfriend’s hand as he looks at the house.

“You like?”

Jean nods, unable to take his eyes off the bulbs adorning the eaves. “I like the lights.”

“Auntie likes them, too.” She then squeezes his hand and begins guiding him towards the house.

Jean follows, keeping his eyes on the ground and watching her boots step into the puddles on the pathway. The rain is lighter here than it is at the airport, but it’s still enough for water droplets to collect in his hair.

The two climb up the steps and Jean mentally goes over the backstory Mikasa had given him regarding her aunt. Kiyomi had grown up alongside Mikasa’s mother in Tokyo, and despite being cousins they acted a lot more like sisters. They even moved to Vancouver together to study. They had kept in touch even when Makoto married a local man while Kiyomi moved back to Japan.

It was no surprise that Kiyomi was the one who stepped up after Mikasa’s parents passed, gladly taking the nine-year-old in and giving her shelter in a time where she had none. She even decided to move back to Canada permanently to be near her niece.

Despite coming from wealth, Kiyomi kept herself busy as a tenured professor at a local university. Giving lectures on international relations seemed to be her second priority on top of providing for Mikasa. Academia appeared to run in the Azumabito-Ackerman household.

As Jean keeps reciting the lore in his head, he turns to Mikasa and asks a last-minute question.

“So… is there anything else I should know?” His voice is just slightly tinged with his signature wit. “You know, before the point of no return?”

“Just be yourself,” Mikasa insists as her boots touch the top of the porch. “Besides, you both like sassing me and old school Celine Dion, in her mind you can do no wrong.”

Jean makes a noise that’s in between an awkward laugh and a nervous chuckle. “That’s one way to look at things…”

When the doorbell rings, what immediately follows is the sound of several dogs barking their heads off — one even sounds like a howl. Through the pane of glass in the door Jean can see two fluffy creatures with legs rushing to the door. After they yelp at the door for a few seconds, a person descends the stairs and gestures for said creatures to quiet down.

Unsurprisingly, the act of wagging one’s finger at two rambunctious dogs does nothing to quell their screams.

Nonetheless, the door opens and the pair of tired traveling grad students are greeted to the sight of Mikasa’s Aunt Kiyomi.

As to be expected, the older lady is smiling from ear to ear and immediately steps forward to embrace her niece. Mikasa herself gives a gentle grin as she hugs her Aunt back.

“Mikasa!”

“Auntie.”

Jean gives them their space as they reunite. In the space between the doorframe and the door, he gets a better look into the house, taking note of the wooden floors, the warm lighting, the spotless walls. The whole place is impeccably clean, even with the two dogs running around.

Speaking of which, Jean also gets an eyeful of the canines standing behind Kiyomi — one is a samoyed with the doofiest grin he’s ever seen on a dog, and the other is husky with an abundance of fluffy fur. The husky in particular is letting out dramatic weeping noises as it looks at the visitors at the door.

When aunt and niece separate, Kiyomi sets her eyes on Jean.

“And is this the boyfriend I’ve heard so much about?” she asks. “Jean, right?”

Jean gives a nod and a polite smile. “That’s me.” He reaches out and shakes her hand. “Nice to meet you, Miss Azumabito.”

Kiyomi is a head shorter than both Jean and Mikasa. Like her niece, her hair is dark, but she keeps it neatly combed and tied into a proper bun.

The only woman looks him up and down, seemingly content with finally meeting him in the flesh. She even seems flattered by his formality. “Please, call me Kiyomi. And come in, you two must be soaked.”

Jean and Mikasa enter the home, bringing their luggage with them. He’s only been in Vancouver for an hour and he’s already relieved to get out of the downpour.

As Jean shakes the water out of his hair, Mikasa kneels down to the two dogs of the Azumabito household. She beams sweetly at both the husky and the samoyed, both of which are excited to see her return. The husky in particular is wagging its tail so hard that its rear end is shaking.

Back at McGill, Mikasa had spoken at length about her dogs back at home. Back at their apartment, there’s a photo of both the husky and samoyed as puppies pinned to their refrigerator.

Seeing the dogs in the fluff is significantly more enjoyable than seeing them in photo form. The sweet look of heartfelt joy on Mikasa’s face is also a bonus.

“Yes, yes, I missed you, too,” says Mikasa as the husky kisses her cheek.

Kiyomi immediately proves to be a cordial host. She takes Jean’s jacket without being prompted, hanging it up on a nearby coat rack. She then reaches for the luggage and grabs the first two bags she can find.

“It’s been raining all week,” the older lady says. She takes a pair of backpacks to a nearby closet.

“Has it?” asks Mikasa.

There is an irked, gravelly tone to Kiyomi’s voice as she replies. “Unfortunately.”

Mikasa lets out a hum, which is her way of laughing. “That’s a Vancouver Christmas for you.”

Jean chuckles as he rubs his freezing hands together. Now free from the constraints of his parka, he kneels down to get to Mikasa’s level and looks at the pair of dogs.

“Hey, I’ve heard a lot about you two,” he says, petting the head of the cheery samoyed. “So… which one’s which again?”

Mikasa gestures to the husky lovingly licking her cheek. “This one’s Mochi…” She then points to the white fluff ball. “...and this one’s Miso.”

Jean can’t help but chuckle, a throaty one that makes the corners of his mouth turn up.

Somehow, he’s getting the feeling that he’ll enjoy the holidays here.

…

Dinner is a simple affair, though Kiyomi uses it as an excuse to break out a bottle of red from the cellar. Christmas may be a few days away, but her beloved niece returning home is a good reason to celebrate. She serves dishes that Mikasa has had throughout her childhood, only occasionally having to scold the dogs for putting their paws on the table. Evidently, Mochi absolutely drools in the presence of Kiyomi’s katsudon.

And true to Mikasa’s words, Kiyomi is a fan of old-school Dion, as the singer’s Christmas album proceeds to play on the house stereo.

Jean sits at the table and listens to aunt and niece catching up, taking note of the way Mikasa’s eyes light up as she speaks. Sometimes they’ll slip into Japanese in the middle of the conversation, only exchanging a few brief sentences before returning to English. It happens so smoothly that Jean can tell it’s just one of those habits the two share.

And suddenly, he now knows how Mikasa feels when he switches into French with other francophones in front of her.

A part of him is hesitant to chime in, as the flow of the conversation feels so fast. He’s also worried that he might spoil the joy of the reunion.

So he spends the time petting Miso under the table while Mochi tries to steal some bites of okonomiyaki. At least the samoyed has begun taking a liking to him.

Mikasa recalls to her Aunt Kiyomi exactly how she and Jean met. The story involved a social gathering for McGill grad students, as well as alcohol and a karaoke machine. Sometimes Jean thinks about how different things would have been had Mikasa not spilled wine on his shirt at the start of the party — he would have probably spent the night drunk singing instead of watching her trying to fruitlessly clean his clothes in the bathroom.

Considering how many of his colleagues at the School of Architecture were attending the party, Mikasa had most likely saved his reputation before he even had one to destroy.

Mikasa is in the midst of explaining her thesis to Kiyomi, detailing how she made the choice to specialize in plant pathology. Recently, she’s been studying a virus that has only been affecting flowers that thrive in cold weather.

Jean loves it when she gets like this, so wrapped up in explaining her work that she’s talking more than she usually does. Truth be told, he can’t comprehend enough botanical science to truly understand what she’s talking about, but the fact that she can talk about trees and flowers like an artist talks about the Sistine Chapel is enough for him. Seeing the way she lights up as she talks about what she’s dedicating her life to is all he’ll ever need.

Plus, Mikasa always seems tuned in when he goes on and on about architecture mumbo jumbo, even the stuff that he knows for a fact will bore people to tears. (“No one cares about the history of the pillar,” Sasha’s voice echoes in his head.) The least he can do is be an attentive boyfriend.

“It’s nice to know that all those years away from home have done you good,” Kiyomi says, pouring herself a little more wine.

“It has,” Mikasa assures. She then looks down and sees Mochi resting his chin on her lap with a loving look in his eyes.“But I can never stay away for too long…”

Kiyomi looks amused. “Have you ever considered getting a dog?”

“We have,” Jean finally speaks up. It’s telling of him that the one topic he’s more comfortable chining in on is pets. “But it’d be a hassle while we’re both still in school.”

Nonetheless, Kiyomi looks interested and listens intently.

“We did dogsit for our friend Historia once — she’s got a terrier mix, we watched it for about a week,” Jean continues, then lets out a chuckle. “The poor guy would weep every time we crated him for the night, wouldn’t sleep unless he was in the bed with us.”

Mikasa lets out a polite hum, reliving the memories of the two stressed grad students trying to curb a terrier’s energy inside their apartment. At least the little one was calm once he was allowed to sleep in the realm of the humans.

“And our bedroom still has some of Donut’s dog hair in it,” Mikasa adds.

Kiyomi spends a moment politely laughing along.

“Oh, speaking of which,” the older lady starts, eyeing the man currently petting the samoyed under the table. “Jean, I prepared the guest bedroom for you.”

It does not take long for both Jean and Mikasa to understand the implications. Jean is suddenly plunged into a mix of embarrassment and confusion, a sensation that makes him pick up the fidgety mannerisms of a twelve-year-old boy.

“Ah… thank you?” is all he can muster. Awkwardly, he scratches the back of his neck.

Meanwhile, Mikasa’s sweet smile disappears from her pretty face and in its place is a glare directed at the hostess.

“Auntie, I was under the impression that my room would be available for us,” she asks in a tone that’s the slightest bit stilted, perhaps to cover up her clear agitation.

“Oh, certainly, Dear, it’s available for you,” Kiyomi explains simply. The way she says ‘dear’ is both motherly and condescending. “I’ve cleaned it and everything.”

Mikasa starts to look more and more frustrated with every passing second. “I meant for both of us.”

“Not in my house.” Kiyomi then reaches for the bottle in the middle of the table like nothing is wrong. “More wine, anyone?”

Then just like before, Mikasa and Kiyomi slip into a tongue that’s foreign to Jean's ears. This time, instead of speaking Japanese for a sentence or two, the two engage into what can respectfully be referred to as a “passive aggressive debate.”

Jean hasn’t learned enough Japanese to discern exactly what the two are saying, but the subject matter is enough to bring a blush to his cheeks. He didn’t anticipate that the concept of he and Mikasa sharing a room — despite sharing so much more back in their apartment in Montreal — would be such a hot topic in the Azumabito household. Apparently, Kiyomi had put a lot of thought into making sure that her niece and her niece’s boyfriend didn’t get too close.

Mikasa’s tone is composed, focused, the one she uses when she has to babysit freshmen undergrads all day. Yet it is laced with just enough persistence to prove that she’s not backing down without a fight. On the other hand, Kiyomi remains placid as she explains her point, continuing to act like there’s nothing wrong with her silly little rule.

Suddenly, Jean’s wondering why he passed up on his mother’s offer to spend the holidays with her in Montpellier.

To quell the uncomfortable knot forming in his stomach, Jean begins petting another dog — Mochi this time — and reaches for the bottle of red.

“Some wine sounds nice, actually.”

…

Once dinner and the debate is over, the two jet-lagged grad students decide to retire for the night. It’s only 9 o’clock but it feels so much later than that.

The outcome of the conversation has caused Jean to unpack his luggage in the basement guest room, whereas Mikasa is forced to do the same on the top floor.

The last time Mikasa had stayed in her childhood bedroom, she was taking a break before heading onto grad school. She can remember the months she spent preparing to move across the country for a second time — the tables she waited to earn extra cash, the lessons she spent with a tutor to get a better grasp on French. Montreal was going to be a whole new beast compared to Toronto — where she had completed her undergrad — and every reminder of that was a sign that she needed to prepare.

That era of her life was roughly two years ago, yet Mikasa feels like it’s a millenia away.

Despite Kiyomi’s rule regarding her niece and her niece’s significant other, at least the bedroom is clean and cozy. Although the pictures and art on the wall have been removed, the sheets are clean and the blankets are soft, more than enough to help Mikasa survive the night.

So alone in her room, Mikasa lies on a bed and reads a book, her usual habit whenever she needs to fall asleep. With the sound of rain hitting the roof and the two dogs napping at the foot of her bed, she almost feels like she’s in high school again, preferring to spend hours in her room just snuggling with Mochi and Miso.

As Mikasa turns the page, she hears a light knock. Mochi immediately lifts his head from the cushions and watches the door open. Jean peaks in with a playful, almost boyish look on his face, knowing well that what he’s doing is a little mischievous.

He steps into the room calmly, having changed from his traveling clothes to something a lot more comfortable. He’s wearing a pair of pyjama pants that Mikasa bought for him on a whim, as well as a flannel shirt that he’s buttoned sparingly. His hair is damp from a shower, ashy brown locks draping messily over his face. The stubble on his jawline and chin looks a bit thicker, more like a short beard.

Knowing Jean, Mikasa wonders if he’s trying to entice her, as he knows exactly what she thinks when she sees him looking so disheveled.

“What are you reading?” he asks, stepping barefoot into her room. He sits on the edge of her bed and starts petting Miso, who predictably reacts with a doofy grin.

Mikasa looks away from her book. “One of Sasha’s romance novels — she lent it to me.”

Jean catches sight of the muscular man on the cover and raises an eyebrow. “Sasha reads romance?”

“When she can,” Mikasa answers. “Vet school’s been taking up a lot of her time.”

There is a beat — Mikasa continues reading and Jean continues petting the dog on the bed. He then notices something that brings a smile to his face.

“You’re wearing my shirt.”

Mikasa is nonplussed as she turns a page. “I know.”

Nowadays, Jean’s green button-front shirt finds itself in Mikasa’s care more often than his. He doesn’t seem to mind though.

Mikasa changes the subject with ease. She looks up and affixes her gaze to his. “How’s the guest room? Cozy?”

“It is.” He nods his head, then his voice goes warm. “Not as cozy as this though.”

Mikasa is quick to close her book and give him a knowing look. “Don’t get any ideas. I wouldn’t want Kiyomi to toss you onto the street.”

Jean puts his hands up in mock defeat. “Trust me, I wouldn’t want that either.”

Putting her novel away, she straightens her back and sits up. “I’m sorry you had to see the argument.”

“It’s fine,” Jean shrugs. At least he’s good at taking things in stride. “What’s the holidays without some family bickering, huh?”

Mikasa lets out a sigh and looks down. “Unfortunately.”

In hindsight, attempting to argue with Kiyomi in Japanese was somewhat pointless, as Jean most likely knew that they were talking about thanks to their mannerisms. Some things in the world are just made to transcend language barriers.

“But hey, I don’t wanna rock the boat.” He’s trying to keep a positive undertone to his voice. “I just wanted to say goodnight.”

He moves on the bed a bit to sit next to her, gently cupping her face with his hand and pressing a kiss to her forehead. Mikasa closes her eyes and lets the gesture send a warm sensation throughout her entire body. The unease she had dealt with at dinner starts to fade away.

With his palms still touching her cheeks, Jean presses a kiss to her lips. It’s gentle, sweet, and makes her want him to stay.

She puts her hands on his as they remain on her face, gently deepening their kiss as her forehead brushes against his. He’s warm, so warm.

Mikasa’s hands trail down to Jean’s shoulders, then to his chest — her thumbs start hooking into the hems of his shirt.

But before anything more can happen, Jean pulls away. She can see the flustered look on his face as his breathing goes unsteady.

“I should go,” he insists, quickly buttoning up his shirt.

Sensing the urgency Mikasa nods along. She then remembers that Kiyomi is still awake and currently relaxing one floor beneath them.

Also, if they are to engage in any intimacy during the stay, she would rather do it without the dogs in the room.

Jean takes her hand and kisses it, a last gesture before he leaves.

“See you in the morning, mon amour.”

And when everything said is done, he leaves. Standing from the bed, he gives the dogs some last pets before walking out of the bedroom. He makes sure to give Mikasa one last assuring look before he is truly gone.

Once the door is closed, Mikasa takes in a breath and rubs her face. Her palms are sweating. When she opens her eyes she is greeted to the sight of Mochi and Miso staring at her with their unblinking gazes.

Her first instinct is to glare back. “Don’t judge me, I’ve seen you two dig up a hornet’s nest.”

…

It’s 5AM when Mikasa wakes. The room is warm and so is the bed, yet when she reaches to the other side to only feel nothing it might as well be cold as ice.

After opening her eyes, she spends a few moments staring at the ceiling and thinking about how tired she is. She may be on vacation, but parts of her are still in grad student mode. Her body has yet to comprehend that she’s not going to spend the day TAing or going over research notes.

When Mikasa gets up, she notices that the dogs are no longer sleeping at the foot of her bed. With the bedroom door ajar, she surmises that Mochi and Miso have transitioned to sleeping in Kiyomi’s bed, as per usual.

Being jet-lagged, Mikasa feels awake, but the kind of awake where one can either function for the day or go for a few more hours of slumber. She contemplates going for an early morning run to ease her nerves, then looks to the window to find that last night’s downpour has intensified.

Vancouver is always rainy, but the kind of rain that makes it impossible to go outside feels truly constricting.

Then an idea pops into Mikasa’s head, one attached to consequences but possible enough to pull off. She has to be careful though, so as quietly as she can she slips out of bed and steps onto the floor.

The carpets dampen the noise of her footfalls as she makes her way through the hallway. When she sees Kiyomi’s bedroom door slightly ajar, she takes in the sight of her Auntie sleeping in between the world’s fluffiest dogs. Smartly, she makes sure to close the door.

Mikasa descends the stairs to the first floor, moving past the furniture and framed photographs before approaching the basement entrance. The lower portion of the house is as cozy as the rest and when she arrives at the bedroom at the end of the hall she slips in without any hesitation. She makes sure to lock the door behind her.

The guest room is warm, Jean’s belongings are scattered about. On a nearby chair is the shirt he had been wearing in her room and on the desk is one of his sketchbooks — he’s quite fond of traveling with at least one. The open page is filled with doodles of Mochi and Miso.

Jean is fast asleep on the bed, bare-chested and breathing gently. His eyes are closed and his hair is strewn in every direction.

Mikasa doesn’t waste any more time. She slips under the sheets, her body easily finding his, and begins peppering kisses against his shoulder.

With the sweetest touch, she trails her lips up his neck and onto his jaw. His stubble is soft and tickles her face. He lets out a hum, as he’s used to being woken up like this. His eyes are still closed as he shifts slightly, letting Mikasa easily pry herself under his arm. Soon she rests her head on his chest, where she always likes to be. He’s warm, warmer than her room upstairs.

With all his strength, Jean manages to open his eyes just enough to see his girlfriend snuggling against him. The room is dark, but she can still see the sleepy smile on his beautiful face.

“Couldn’t stay away?”

“Not a bit.”

Mikasa relaxes into him, letting his heartbeat become a gentle lullaby. In the sheets his hand finds hers and holds it tight, one of her legs hooking around his. She is content to drift off to sleep just like this.

She’ll deal with the consequences later.

#Jeankasa #Jeanmika #jean kirstein #mikasa ackerman #jean kirschtein #kiyomi azumabito #modern au #grad student au #snk #jkholidaysspecial2023 #jkholidaysspecial

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warm-starlight · 1 year

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Some funny official illustrations counting down time until SnK episode release.

#snk #aot #eren yeger #mikasa ackerman #armin arlert #onyankopon #kiyomi azumabito #official

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binibchielq · 8 months

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Lady Kiyomi Azumabito, Finding Yourself Again.

A new fic.

I have loved Kiyomi's character so much ever since I first saw her. It makes me sad that we never get to know more of her or what had become of her post-war. But, I'm grateful that she is such an open-canvas of ideas for me to write this.

I know there is no Rivamika at the moment, but I rest assure you, they will be important later on...

Enjoy Mikasa and Kiyomi's connection for the meantime. Enjoy. ♡

#Kiyomi Azumabito #mikasa ackerman #attack on titan #rivamika #rivamika fanfic #attack on titan fanfiction

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sailorspica · 1 day

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what I think is cool about hizuru is 1) it's such an unflattering portrait and so the greatest evidence aot is Not a work of japanese nationalism, but also 2) mikasa's relationship to her own identity is pretty nuanced

i don't have a lot of faith in general in asian authors writing diaspora, but i think we forget that it's mikasa AND jean who have reservations about stopping eren—floch's yelling "where's mikasa" means he really thought jeankasa were both won over to the jaegerists. earlier she affirms to kiyomi that paradis is her home, which isn't like, pick-me shit, she really has no relationship to hizuru at all, and jean's hesitation isn't necessarily tribalism, he is correct in his understanding of eren's motivations of choosing paradis over the world, and mikasa's connection to one part of that outside world is understandably negligible

for all that my biggest beef with the premise of eldian/titan biology as just plain race science, yams at least skirts cultural/racial essentialism with mikasa. it's so funny to Me that she's the rudest to niccolo when he first cooks for them? she's so out of pocket, she straight up says "smells gross" and it's just so real, my mother accuses me of being not a real filipino because i don't like seafood like?? you raised me in the midwest, the california asians i befriended in college refused to eat landlocked sushi

#♃#aottxt #mikasa ackerman #love her sm #aot politics #hizuru #azumabito kiyomi

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bluesylveon2 · 1 year

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#attack on titan #aot #aot season 4 pt 3 #zeke yeager #pieck finger #porco galliard #marcel galliard #falco grice #gabi braun #colt grice #kiyomi azumabito #eren kruger #floch forster

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ourmondobongo · 1 year

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I'm happy we got some Onyankopon <3

#s04p03 #onyankopon #kiyomi azumabito #and omg I just noticed - WHO IS PILOTING THE AIRPLANE??? LOL #HANJI MY GODDESS ZOE?!

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karizard-ao3 · 5 months

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This isn’t clueless teens related but because of the whole Azumabito royalty legacy, I hc Gothkasa’s family being stupidly rich, even if they decide to live normal lives. Eren asks her about this once and Mikasa is very casual, like “oh yes, my great-grandfather was a prince but came to live here. We’re distant cousins but we still see the family from time to time”. The family in question being, of course, the Hizuran royal family

I also imagine modern au Azumabitos being rich! I picture them as business royalty more so than actual royalty, though. But they're pretty much at the top of the business world.

I feel like Gothkasa's parents are both successful, especially her mom, and she inherited that Azumabito head for making money (which I did kind of sneak into clueless teens, even though we're not talking about that).

I don't know, I just love the idea of secret rich girl Gothkasa.

#ask me things #my asks #answered asks #mikasa ackerman #azumabitos #modern au #headcanons

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melishade · 1 month

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prompt # 13

This ask game

Kiyomi snitching to the Survey Corps about Megatron attending a party and dancing in Attack on Prime Chapter 52.

"Lady Kiyomi," Optimus began in his human form, "I have a small query for you regarding something you brought up earlier."

The Survey Corps stared at the Prime, perplexed. He sounded like he didn't want to ask this question, but Kiyomi didn't pick up on Optimus' reluctance.

"What is this query about?" Kiyomi asked.

"You...you mentioned meeting my acquaintance at...a party?" The Survey Corps mouths dropped at that statement while Levi coughed up his tea back in his cup.

"Oh yes, the first time I had encountered your colleague, Willy Tybur had hosted a party and he was invited as a guest of honor," Kiyomi explained.

"By the Allspark," Optimus mumbled.

"Oh this shit is getting better." Sasha grinned.

"Tell me, Kiyomi, what happened during this party?" Hanji leaned in towards the ambassador.

"Well, Matthew had walked into the party when everyone was already inside, and he was wearing a really expensive three-piece suit," Kiyomi recalled with a smile.

"Oh shit, no way!" Connie grinned.

"Megatron...in a suit." Armin couldn't help but picture Megatron in his bipedal mode wearing a suit, his spikes tearing through the clothing.

"The minute he walked, he starting wooing the others with long winded tales about how he got the scars on his face," Kiyomi continued, "I must say, despite his appearance, he can really capture the hearts and minds of a crowd."

Optimus' mouth formed a thin line. By the Allspark, what did Megatron say to them?

"After that, he manages to save a waiter's job by catching him before he tripped and fell," Kiyomi explained, "He also managed to catch a tray of wine the waiter was holding. Not a single drop hit the floor, but that tray almost hit me before he caught it. My new kimono would have been ruined."

"Oh no, such a travesty," Eren mumbled in sarcasm.

"So how did you know he was the Flying Titan?" Mikasa asked.

"Well, Zeke Jaeger had informed me that someone of special interest would be at the party," Kiyomi explained, "Although I didn't think he would make such an impact. It was quite charming."

"Please don't tell me this bitch thinks that Megatron is attractive," Levi hissed to himself.

"Although, when he was asked about you, Optimus Prime." She gestured to the Prime, "And himself, he gave a detailed answer that no one else would have given unless they knew what they were talking about."

"He scared some people with his answer, didn't he?" Hanji assumed.

"Oh he wiped the smirks and laughs off of their faces in an instant. Oddly satisfying in my opinion," Kiyomi confessed.

"Then what happened?" Armin asked.

"Well, I waited until he was alone for a few minutes before approaching him to talk," Kiyomi answered, "I drank the wine glass he was offered since he said he couldn't get drunk, and we talked for a bit. We introduced ourselves and then I asked him to dance with m-!"

"What?!" all of them nearly screamed.

"You asked him to dance with you?" Optimus asked in surprise.

"Yes, there was some music playing and I thought it would be appropriate," Kiyomi shrugged.

"And he said yes?!" Hanji exclaimed.

"Well he did take my hand and let me guide him to the dance floor," Kiyomi answered.

"Oh my god," Eren gawked. Meanwhile, Levi had to wire his lips shut, trying so hard not to speak up in fear of laughing at Megatron's situation.

"At first, he seemed hesitant to try it," Kiyomi explained, enjoying the drama she was stirring up, "He was so rigid as I was guiding him through a simple waltz. He says all he knows how to do is fight, so I say to think of dancing like fighting. The next thing I know, he's the one leading the dance. It was like a switch."

Some of the Survey Corps members started laughing while the others gawked at Kiyomi.

"Oh shit! Oh my god!" Hanji wheezed, "This is the best thing ever!"

"So then how did you get a confirmation that he was the Flying Titan?" Mikasa asked.

Kiyomi sighed in annoyance. "He whispered in my ear that he's a murderer and basically said that he could kill everyone in the room. I have to remain calm and retort by saying he hasn't so that must mean something. After that, I slipped him the number to call before heading back home."

"I...did not realize all of that happened." Optimus was at a loss for words.

"It was definitely an impression," Kiyomi sighed.

"So...we're gonna find a way to hold this over Buckethead right?" Hanji asked.

"I'm not passing up this opportunity to shit on him," Levi declared.

"You leave this alone, now," Optimus ordered them.

(Alright, I have 36 on file but the rest is free game).

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thena0315 · 1 year

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Attack on Titan - Season 4 Part 3 Part 1

The Alliance mourning Hange’s sacrifice to let them all escape The Rumbling

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ansatsu-sha · 1 year

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Lady Kiyomi + Annie / Shingeki no Kyojin S4E29

#kiyomi azumabito #annie leonhart #shingeki no kyojin #attack on titan

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corner-stories · 5 months

Text

handwriting

Jean Kirschtein. Mikasa Ackerman. Chemistry Notes. Lacrosse Games. Shiba Inus. High School AU. 2870 words. (ao3.) | part 1

The pressed forget-me-not rides in Mikasa’s textbook, the one with flowers doodled into the margins. It stays there as she attends her final class of the day, then heads off to soccer practice.

She forgets about the note and the flower as she runs down the field, chasing the ball as she scrimmages with her teammates. She practices assists with Historia and shooting drills with Mina at the net until the sun disappears on the horizon.

When Mikasa heads home, she enters the house on the west side of town. She calmly greets her Aunt Kiyomi in the living area, as well as the Azumabito household’s resident Shiba Inu. The dog screams in delight upon seeing its favorite human. Mikasa turns down her Auntie’s offer to watch a movie together and retires to her room for the night.

After changing out of her clothes and into something more comfortable, she flops down onto her bed and wonders how difficult sleep will be tonight. As she rests, the dog pushes its way through her ajar door and hops onto her bed, immediately making itself comfortable amongst the cushions. Mikasa doesn’t protest and lets Panko Ackerman-Azumabito rest his head against her thigh.

But before Mikasa drifts off to sleep, she remembers the flower she slipped into her textbook.

Hopping off the bed, Mikasa goes to the backpack on the floor and digs inside. Panko can only sit up and watch in confusion.

When Mikasa procures her textbook, she goes to her desk and finds the flower and note.

It hasn’t changed since the moment she saw it fall out of her locker. It feels so small as she holds it in her fingers, as if the stems or the leaves could wither and rot if she does something wrong.

That same feeling of curiosity fires up in her head, the one she experienced when initially finding the flower.

She can’t even fathom who could have sent the note. She barely talks to people in school, reserving most of her words for answering questions or communicating with her soccer teammates.

She’s not even sure which class she shares with the person. She doodles in her textbook during all of them.

Mikasa holds the note in the light and looks it over again, trying to find some trace of identity aside from the phrase “I heard you liked flowers” scribbled onto the lines. But alas, she can’t find it.

She reads the message over and over again, committing it to memory, everything from the hue of the pen to the intricacies of the handwriting.

Questions dance fervently in her head.

Who sent this? Why did they send it? Why didn’t they sign the note? And why a forget-me-not?

Then after a moment, Mikasa lets out a sigh. She slips the note and flower into her journal and tucks it away into her desk drawer.

When she goes to sleep that night, her dreams feel blank and grey.

…

Jean tries not to get hung up on his gesture. To be frank, he had not put any thought into what the aftermath of his gift would be.

What is he to do now? Keep watching Mikasa during study hall? Pray that she somehow figures it out? Or go under a rock and die?

With the feeling of despair currently making his chest feel like an empty hole, Jean highly considers option three.

The seconds after seeing Mikasa holding his pressed forget-me-not turns into minutes, then hours, then a whole day passes and he still can’t shake the sight from his head. He swore he saw her smiling, even if it was just for a little bit.

At least when Jean wakes up the next morning, the initial shock is gone. He doesn’t feel as torn and sick as he did the day before, but still he barely touches his breakfast while going through his daily existential crisis.

After heading to school, Jean is thankful to have a reason to distract himself. He’s never been a slacker, but today he makes his chemistry notes extra thorough as an excuse to not think about that one certain thing. He doesn’t even joke around when Sasha falls asleep beside him.

The hours and classes drag on, then soon Jean heads to the fateful study hall that started it all.

As he navigates the hallway, the nervous knot in his stomach returns. With a sigh, Jean pulls his green hoodie over his head and places his headphones over his ears. He blasts the first song he can find to drown out the noise.

When he enters the room Mikasa’s in her usual spot, except instead of drawing in her textbook or going over her homework, her glassy eyes are scanning the classroom.

The knot in Jean’s stomach gets worse, much worse. He tries not to look like a deer-in-the-headlights as he scrambles to his seat.

Throughout class he doesn’t even spare a glance at her, fearing that doing so would lead to dire consequences. He’s probably put her on edge now, as she’ll be extra vigilant in order to find out the identity of her secret admirer.

So to not rouse suspicion that the big dumb lacrosse player took the time to press a flower for a girl he liked, Jean goes over his chemistry notes like he’s trying to find the cure for cancer.

…

The days go on and the lingering thought of the flower in her locker begins to fade. Mikasa keeps herself occupied with other things — soccer practice, SAT prep, or the university brochures that her Aunt kindly placed on her desk.

Kiyomi is always observant, but either she hasn’t noticed her niece being preoccupied by something else or is too kind to bring it up.

Around this time of year, in the midst of spring, Mikasa gets particularly glum. When she feels the remaining chill of winter melting away, it’s hard for her to feel entirely happy. The anniversary of her parent’s death — which happened barely a month after her ninth birthday — has been igniting her lingering grief for nearly a decade.

At least Mikasa wakes up one morning to find an intricately prepared bento box in the fridge. The note on it reminds her to bring it to school. Kiyomi has always done this, leaving ample amounts of food in her niece’s vicinity to counteract Mikasa’s habit of not eating when she’s sad. It’s always nice to know that Kiyomi cares in her own way.

One day Mikasa is standing near the net during soccer practice. Beside her Sasha — the team’s left winger — and her current partner for working on assists.

As they work together to slowly kick a line of balls into the net, Sasha chats to Mikasa about whatever’s on her mind. Their interactions are usually like this, Sasha being a motor mouth while Mikasa nods along with her usual stoic, emotionless expression. Whether they be at practice or eating lunch together, it’s always the same. At least Mikasa can find comfort in the routine and familiarity.

Today Sasha is telling her friend about the depths of boredom that can only be experienced in the throes of AP Chemistry. When the brunette brings up her habit of snoozing in class, Mikasa begins to wonder if anyone in her generation is capable of getting any sleep.

Then suddenly, Sasha passes a ball with a little too much force and Mikasa ends up kicking it high into the air, something she was very much not intending to do. As it goes flying she can already tell that it’s going off the intended trajectory.

Unsurprisingly, the team’s star striker causes the ball to soar with breathtaking speed. Mikasa and Sasha watch as it heads towards the running track surrounding the sports field.

The ball gets dangerously close to hitting some poor unsuspecting person trying to get a few laps in. It lands just in front of a guy in a green hoodie, causing him to curse and stumble back.

While Mikasa feels horrible for the deed, Sasha lets out a laugh and clutches her stomach as she guffaws.

“Whoa! Looks like it’s raining balls, Jean Boy!” Sasha exclaims in utter glee.

After sharply elbowing her friend to quiet down, Mikasa gets a better look at the person on the track. It’s the guy in her study hall who brings his lacrosse stick to class at least three days a week.

“Sorry about that!” Mikasa calls out to him.

When their gazes meet, Mikasa immediately notices a sense of nervousness taking over Jean’s disposition. At first he seems annoyed with Sasha, which is unsurprising for most people who know her, but the second Jean looks at Mikasa his face softens and he begins to look sick.

“Uh… it’s fine…” he stammers out. Awkwardly, he grabs the ball that almost struck him head on and kicks it back to the field.

She’s noticed him acting like this in class once or twice before, sometimes being surprisingly quiet and reserved out of the blue. He usually chats with his seat mates during the hour — to what extent Mikasa doesn’t know, but it’s a lot more than her. Seeing him huddle to himself does feel a tad bit peculiar, but perhaps she’s reading too far into things.

When the ball returns to the field, Mikasa runs to grab it off the ground, then says — “Thank you.”

Jean manages a smile despite his unease and gives a friendly wave.

“You’re welcome!”

…

A week and a whole lacrosse game later, Jean returns home with his mother and does not hesitate to let himself rest. After tossing his dirty uniform in the laundry hamper, he takes a quick shower to rid himself of the dirt and grass on his skin. At least tanking that body check was worth it, since protecting Connie Springer ensured the team’s winning goal.

Once he’s clean, Jean heads back to his room and lies on his bed. He’s exhausted from the game, but before nodding off he manages to read a handful of texts sent to him while he was busy. His teammate Thomas is congratulating him for providing the game-winning assist, Connie applauding him for surviving a body check from the absolute unit of a defender on the opposing team, and the final is a message from Sasha regarding something completely unrelated to the whole-ass lacrosse game she just watched him in.

‘Oh Sasha, never change for anyone,’ is the last thought on Jean’s mind before he truly falls asleep.

As per usual, Jean heads to school the next morning. Except instead of heading straight to art class to dick around until the bell, he’s making a stop at his locker to pick up the fabled chemistry notes that Sasha so kindly begged for.

Despite his somewhat messy penmanship and the single staple haphazardly holding the papers together, at least the notes are thorough.

As Jean traverses the crowded hallways, he wonders when Sasha will actually start staying awake during class instead of mooching off him to pass. One should expect more from a senior on the verge of graduation, but one should also expect that the inner mechanisms of Sasha’s mind must remain an enigma.

As Jean walks, another text tells him to head to the soccer field to make the transfer. Due to the abundance of emojis following the message, he does what he’s told.

After he exits the schools’ north building, the warmth of the sun grazes his skin. As he traverses the student parking lot, he’s suddenly thankful for a reason to be outdoors.

When Jean arrives at the field he walks on the path between the bleachers and the running track. After scanning the area for Sasha, he looks forward and suddenly realizes that he’s in proximity of the last — or perhaps the first — person he wants to see.

…

As a handful of her teammates scrimmage on the field, Mikasa remains at the side to warm up. With a few dynamic stretches she can feel the blood flowing in her veins and her muscles beginning to activate. Morning practices are not her favorite, but it’s a good distraction from her usual post-winter blues.

Once she finishes her final stretch and gets onto her feet, she glances up to see a person she doesn’t often see at this time of day.

Jean’s hair is scruffy as he walks near the bottom of the bleachers. His disposition is uneasy, just as it has been before, but he manages to approach her with a boyish smile on his face — the kind that is subdued, shy, but ultimately genuine.

“Hey, Mikasa.”

She tilts her head to the side and furrows her eyebrows at him. “How do you know my name?”

“We’ve gone to school together for the last four years,” he explains, his tone turning dry. “And we have study hall. And weren’t you in my bio class last term?”

Mikasa tries to think back to where or when she would have seen his face. At this point in her high school career, everything becomes a blur the second she’s finished with it. Only a select few things have managed to linger with her.

But nonetheless, she nods her head slowly and pretends to know what she’s talking about. “I think so.”

There is a beat, and Mikasa can’t help but notice that Jean’s nervousness returns. His resting face often looks mean and sullen, yet somehow — standing in front of her — Jean has suddenly adopted the mannerisms of Panko in a veterinarian’s waiting room.

He runs a hand through his hair and avoids her gaze. “Uh… have you seen Sasha?”

Mikasa gently tilts her head towards the field. Jean looks over just in time to see Sasha doing passing drills with Historia near the net.

“Coach threw her in at the last minute,” Mikasa adds.

Jean clicks his tongue. “Ah.”

As Mikasa reaches down to adjust her shin guards, Jean slips off his backpack and rummages inside. What he takes out is a handful of papers with various paragraphs and chemistry equations scribbled onto them.

For a guy who worked somewhat diligently in every study hall, Mikasa has never noticed how messy his notes could be.

“Could you uh… do me a favor and give these to her?” Jean asks as he hands over the papers. “Sasha seems a little…”

He pauses, then looks to the field just in time to see the girl in question tripping over the ball.

“...preoccupied.”

Just like before, Mikasa nods slowly and takes the papers. As sleep-deprived and tired as she tends to be, she’s not too unkind to refute a simple request.

“I can do that.”

Jean gives her a slight grin as he slips his backpack on. “Uh… good game last week, by the way.”

Mikasa raises an eyebrow. “You attend the girl’s soccer games?”

Jean nods like it’s the easiest thing in the world.

“Yeah, for Sasha mainly, but you’re all good,” he lauds. His smile towards her gets just a bit brighter. “You’re a better midfielder than most dudes on the lacrosse team, that’s for sure.”

Mikasa lets out a hum, which is the closest she can get to laughing. She finds something humorous in Jean’s ability to applaud her while simultaneously shit-talking the guys he plays alongside. She’s tempted to start attending the boys lacrosse games just to double check his claims.

“I suppose that’s a compliment?” she asks, her tone getting just a bit softer.

Jean gives her a nod. “It is.”

For a brief second, Mikasa glances down to her cleats. They’re muddier than she thought they were.

“I’m not good at taking those,” she says in a voice that’s more like a whisper.

When she looks up again there’s a sense of sincerity in Jean’s eyes. She’s only realized now that they’re hazel. The hue goes well with the ashy brown tones of his hair.

“Then you better learn,” Jean tells her, and his voice becomes warm and gentle.

Mikasa’s grasp around the papers tightens as a rush of warmth surges to her face, but she doesn’t know why.

Jean’s smile persists, and when he voids her gaze again he seems to be having a short, private moment to himself. Mikasa can practically see the gears turning in his head, but she can’t quite pinpoint what he’s thinking about.

When he looks at her once, he manages a polite nod.

“See you at study hall, Mikasa,” Jean says, and the way her name rolls off his lips feels so effortless.

Jean turns around and walks away from the field. For a few moments, Mikasa remains where she is and watches him leave until he is a speck between the bleachers and the running track.

Once he’s gone, she folds the notes in her hands and walks to her backpack at the bottom of the bleachers. She has no choice but to stash them somewhere until Sasha’s done rolling in the mud. As she sits down to put the papers away, her eyes glance upon the scribble-like penmanship on the pages.

Her heart skips a beat when she recognizes the handwriting.

#jeankasa #jeanmika #mikajean #jean kirstein #jean kirschtein #mikasa ackerman #sasha braus #kiyomi azumabito #high school AU #snk #Panko is the real MVP of the story

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