Retrieving •Eremika

Chapter 9: 10 metres tall

Eren's P.O.V.
I could wait no longer. All the others had departed the bell tower, leaving me alone to wait for Mikasa. Two minutes were all the time they permitted me. As a soldier, my duty was to fight, they had said, not to brood over romance. I paced on the roof, hoping that I would be able to identify her from the sea of faces below. In the distance, the Titans's piercing wails jabbed my eardrums, making my head throb in agony.

"Hey, loverboy, get over here and help us out," someone from Levi's squad bellowed, yet I couldn't recognise whose voice it was. Deftly pushing a button on my 3DMG, I shot into the sky, breaking my promise to Mikasa that I would await her arrival at the bell tower.
End of Eren's P.O.V.

Mikasa's P.O.V.
Smothered by the suspended smoke particles in the air, I pushed on, choking in suffocation. My throat was parched, a scalding sensation digging into it. Things aggravated as I neared the bell tower. There was someone slumped in the debris of granite slates. He had a Survey Corps uniform on. I leaped forwards, crashing to the ground.

It wasn't Eren. The dead soldier's eyes were struck by immense terror, widened and dilated. I reached over to pull the lids over his bloodshot eyes. This man would have certainly been one of Eren's fallen comrades. I couldn't bear the thought of Eren being devoured by a Titan, or trapped under toppled objects. I accelerated, racing to my destination.

Through the smog, the tower was visible, yet no one was perching on it. No Eren.

The earth shook, the soil beneath my feet loosening. I regained my balance swiftly, stretching my arms out. A thump could be heard from behind my back. My body tensed, a shot of adrenaline cruising through me as I spun on my heels to locate the source of the sound. It was a 10-meter-class Titan, in its drunken stupor, plundering through the street adjacent to mine, turning around the bend. I darted behind a pole, my heart bouncing uncontrollably in my flimsy rib cage.

Judging by the magnitude of the thumps its feet created as they impacted the ground, the Titan was awfully near, within a 15-meter radius. With another colossal step, it closed in. I fished out my rather long pocket knife, thinking this was worth a try, as I made myself visible, charging towards the Titan.

Its hand swooped down to catch me as I pounced, plunging the knife deep into it's fingers. The Titan was towering over me, gazing emotionlessly at the smoking wound I had made in its calloused fingers. It had a gruff demeanour, its lips fixed in a grotesque upside-down U shape, and a scrawny torso.

I gave a war cry, plucking my blunt knife out of its already-regenerating finger. Although the Titan's expression had not changed, I could tell that it was snickering at my puniness. My knife did not work very well, as I had expected. Alright, it was time to execute Plan B.

I dashed into a forsaken building beside me, ascending the spiralling and rickety stairs inside. I reached the lofty attic in no time. Clambering out of the shattered windows, I located the Titan, which had snuck its head into the door of the building in search for me. It was bent over, directly underneath me. I could not escape, because if I attempted a run, it would pursue me.

Without faltering for another second, I hopped from the attic. I landed gracefully on its back, and scaled up its spine until I reached the nape. Wounding up for a mere second, I struck, slicing through. The Titan howled in surprise more than in agony, and rose, causing me to tumble, free falling onto the ground. I had missed the vital life-sustaining part.

Excruciating pain shot up my limbs and spine, yet I mustered my stamina and stood up, snarling at the Titan. My legs were feebly buckling. I couldn't feel my arms and I was only dimly aware that my 'rather long pocket knife' had skidded away from me, nowhere to be seen. Oh crap.

It was simply me against the Titan.

It knelt down, toying with me, and swept me off my feet, hoisting my body into midair. It dangled me precariously by the hood of my jacket above its wide open mouth, which led straight down to its stomach.

"No!" A prolonged scream whipped through the stagnant air. Initially, I had thought that it was my voice. I felt a force against my ribs, snatching me away from the Titan's corpulent fingers. My spine rammed against the uneven tiles of a roof beside the Titan, agony searing up my nerves.

Eren was in his 3DMG, wielding his blades cumbersomely. I could tell that a part of him was injured, the extent unknown as no blood could be seen. He threw himself beside me, shifting into a crouching position, his hand clutching onto his ribs, "Mikasa, get out of here. I'm so sorry for everything, please, just leave. This is too dangerous." No. I put so much at stake to get to you, Eren. He was wheezing, his face contorted into a mixed look of sorrow and pain. With a hand still resting on his ribs, he picked up the blades he dropped and jumped towards the a Titan, allowing me no time at all to stop him.

I was unarmed. I couldn't think of anything I could do to assist Eren.
A jet of blood sprayed out, accompanied by a suppressed yell. Eren had his feet digging into the Titan, standing on its mouth, which had bared all teeth. Half of his arm was in the Titan's closed jaws. No. No. He had always been the reason I survived the toughest encounters. He would not be my downfall. No. I would be the reason he would survive today.

Eren embedded his blade into the Titan. The behemoth grappled at its face, swatting him away, throwing him into the air. He slumped, motionless, onto the terracotta roof tiles of the house opposite to the one I was on. Rage boiled in me as I use the Titan's back as a bridge, crossing to the other side. Smoke from the Titan's healing lacerations obstructed my view, but my willpower to see Eren was enough to bring me over.

Eren's arm was missing, blood crusting the mangled flesh of the remnants of his limb. His body was badly battered, his brown hair unkempt. His emerald eyes cracked open slightly at the sound of my footsteps and he turned his head in a pain-staking manner to gaze at me through the slits. His other arm was still on his chest, which was rising and falling, hitching with every breath. He parted his lips to speak, wincing, yet no sound came out. His clench on his ribcage tightened. The 3DMG was warped, the metal splintered and digging into Eren's hip.

Without asking for his permission, I bent down and took one of his blades, which were laying beside him, snapped in half. Although the blade was not in its prime condition, with a subtle skewness to it, it was still longer than my pocket knife.

"I'll fight, Eren," I straightened, recalling what he had told me six years ago on that day.
End of Mikasa's P.O.V.