Breathless •Eremika (Love. Me. Now. Or. Never.)

III: Fatigued

Mikasa lolled her head sideways on the pillow, drearily cracking her eyes open. Sunlight penetrated through the curtains of the window, indicating to her that it was morning. She glanced at the clock on her bedside table, which displayed 7:30. Crap. She would miss the bus to school if she didn't dress herself now. The entire year would be camping today, and the school had required students to arrive at school earlier than usual.

Sluggishly, she rolled out of bed, arching her back to yawn. A name popped into her head. Eren. She remembered seeing him injured yesterday during the wrangle, and her mind froze. She sped her pace up in readying herself for the day, collecting her belongings for camp, and burst out of the door after bidding her aunt a brisk farewell.

She bolted to Eren's house, which was less than a block away. She thumbed the doorbell repeatedly and stopped when she heard footsteps on the other side of the door. It swung open, revealing a woman in her late fourties, her face streaked with tears, her eyes red and puffy.

"Mikasa, darling," her voice sounded shattered, "What brings you here?"

"Mrs. Yeager," Mikasa greeted Eren's mother courteously yet warily, seeing the other woman in tears, "We're going camping today and I'm just wondering if Eren's woken up yet. We have to be at school by eight today."

"Oh, Eren," Mrs. Yeager shuffled behind the door to allow the girl through, "he's in his room."

"Can I just go up and get him?" the girl asked, uncertain.

"Sure you can."

Mikasa gave a brief nod and ascended the stairs hurriedly. She had been to Eren's house numerous times and she knew perfectly well where his room was. She rapped on his door urgently, "Eren! It's me, Mikasa! We're going to be late! We're going camping, remember?"

There was no response.

Seeing that the door was left ajar, Mikasa pushed it open without a second thought. She stopped in her tracks as soon as she saw Eren standing in the center of the room, shirtless.

He was changing from his pajamas into his school uniform and froze when he saw Mikasa at the doorway, his emerald eyes widening in shock. He did not have the perfect physique, yet layers of muscles did cord his chest and arms. She could see the bulging bruise on his ribs and thus the intensity of Levi's punch.

Utterly mortified, she took a step back, crashing into Eren's bookshelf. The books fell along with the bookstands, clattering to the ground. "I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry." How could he not have heard her calling out his name?

"I-It's fine," Eren rubbed the back of his neck, slipping his shirt back on, "It doesn't matter. I have my pants on."

Mikasa's eyes darted around to avoid his gaze. His room was immaculate, with his old posters-from-childhood ripped off the walls, leaving streaks of paper marks on his wallpaper, and there was nothing in his room that spoke of his personality or interests.

"Eren, where did your posters go? Where did everything go?" she asked, picking up the fallen books.

"I didn't like them," he replied somberly, helping her in picking the items up from the ground.

"How're your ribs?" she pointed to her own abdomen.

"I'm alright," he whispered, his ears reddening. He was hiding something from her, she could tell.

"Eren, what's wrong?"

"I-It's nothing, really," Eren dismissed her question, "We're going camping, right? You came to fetch me, yeah? Let's go." He got up on his feet and headed towards the door, grabbing his blue hiking bag in one swift motion.

"Wait, Eren," she tugged at his sleeve, "I talked to Levi yesterday. I told him to not approach you in that manner anymore. He said sorry."

So that's what they were talking about, Eren thought to himself. He no longer felt that empty and betrayed, knowing what Mikasa was saying to Levi when they walked home together. "Yeah, alright, come on, let's just go."

                    **********

"Eren! Hurry up!" Armin yelled down to his friend at the foot of the precipice. Eren was struggling, attempting to clamber up the near-vertical cliff. Although he had his safety harnesses on, he could feel his hands and legs quivering in fatigue.

The first activity during camping was a long hike through the Alpha Mountains, treading through bushes and mountain ranges. The entire class had already scaled the cliff-face in ease and was at the next checkpoint which was several miles away.

Mikasa was at the apex with Armin, hanging their feet over the edge. They had chosen to stay behind for Eren, only to catch up with the rest of the class later. "Eren? What are you doing down there?"

He was short on breath, "Mikasa, Armin, I can't do this. Just go without me, I'll manage myself."

As soon as he said that, Mikasa knew that something was not right. He wasn't the kind of person to give up in sticky situations. She checked her safety harness and with a leap, she dropped herself gracefully down the cliff to reach him. A soft thud announced her contact with the ground below.

Beads of sweat ran down his face and his hair was slick with grease. His torso was trembling and his face was contorted, the agony evident in his expression. His eyes widened at the sight of her. "Mikasa? Don't join me! Go back up to Armin, I said I'm fine!"

"No!" Mikasa slid her arm under his and she could feel the heat coming off his body. He was overheating.

"I don't need your help!" he broke into tears.

"Why are you crying? What's wrong with me helping you?" Mikasa let him go. She had seen his tears, but it was usually due to major events. In his dictionary, this wasn't an event worth crying for. Why was he crying? "If you don't want me to help you, then fine. I won't."

He crumpled to the ground once she released him. "Mikasa," he whimpered, the tears riveting from his eyes. He stared down at his grimy hands, trembling. His limbs were numb.

Instantly, she wrapped her arms around him to console him, "Tell me what's wrong when we reach the top, Eren."

"I can't," he shook his head subtly.

"Why? You used to tell me everything." There was a slight trace of hurt in her voice.

"I just can't. Please stop asking, Mikasa. Let's just head uphill, please," he pleaded. There was something holding him back. He had told Armin. Yet he did not feel like informing Mikasa now. How would she take it? He couldn't tell her. He didn't want to tell her personally. Maybe she would be able to figure it out herself one day. He didn't want to tell her that he. Was. Dying.