Survival Tactics

Four

Mikasa came to hate knitting as much as she hated titans. The girls in the squad were amazed with Christa's seemingly infinite amount of patience after watching her teach Mikasa how to purl that evening after drills and dinner. While Mikasa still felt a little tweaked at the image of Eren picking Christa over her, she knew that she owed Christa for her trouble. She probably owed Ymir as well, who didn't seem to enjoy how much of Christa's time was being taken up.

At the start of class, Mikasa presented both her knit and purl samples to Hauser, who nodded with wary approval.

"Well done, Ackerman," Hauser said. "Don't kill anyone today."

The instructor moved on to pass out materials. Today they would be learning how to stitch together pieces of knitted fibers and how to read a pattern. The class went about as well as it did the day before, thought without any Mikasa-induced incidents. Christa once again had a flock of boys around her, but there were also girls this time. The knitting pattern was for a simple washcloth to insert a bar of soap into, but the pattern was hard to read for those not in the habit of reading them. Mikasa had given up quite easily despite the explanation of symbols on the chalkboard.

"Do you want me to make a cheat sheet for you?" Armin had asked. He had found the pattern quite interesting, like a code for a plan, and was already a quarter of the way done with his soap pouch.

"Yes, please."

Hauser had ended today's class with a challenge.

"You have two options: Complete the assignment for the original homework, or show me something you made using innovation and the skills you've learned," she said. "If you create something original, you'll have a chance to receive bonus points on your grade. BUT, only ONE person can win the challenge, so do it only with confidence!"

When the class ended, the cadets took off for the mess hall, each one with a pair of needles, two skeins of yarn, and their pattern. Mikasa looked down at the awkward start of her soap pouch sitting next to her plate of food.

'I'll stick with the pouch,' she decided. It was the safest route given her lack of ability.

Other had taken to the challenge with enthusiasm. Jean and Eren were having a standoff, eyes fierce and needles pointed at each other. Connie was wondering out loud if Hauser would accept a pillow shaped like a potato, making Sasha perk up at the idea of food-shaped knitted things. Even Armin, sitting next to her, was engrossed in a shoot of paper he was scribbling words onto.

Feeling lonely and left out, Mikasa got up with her things and left the hall early, pushing her plate to Sasha on her way out. She walked back to the bunks, put the gar on her bed, and then sat down next to them. The red scarf, ever present around her neck, was pulled up to her nose. It didn't smell like Eren anymore at this point, and was no longer as vibrant a red as it used to be, but when she felt alone like this, it still gave her comfort.

"Ya know-mmpf-if you keep looking like that-mmnom-your face will get stuck."

Mikasa jerked her head up. Sasha was standing before her, checks full of food.

"Oh, wait," she swallowed. "You already look like that all the time!"

Mikasa just stared. Sasha stared back.

"Uh...are you ok?" Sasha asked, nervously.

"No." Mikasa's voice was a flat as ever, but not angry, which, quite frankly, was weird.

"Uh...so..." Sasha fidgeted. Would you...like to talk about it?"

"No."

There was an awkward silence. Sasha was about ready to make a dash for the door, when Mikasa suddenly spoke again.

"I'm not cut out to be a housewife."

Sasha froze at the sound of Mikasa's voice, and then relaxed into a more dumfounded posture.

"House...wife?"

Mikasa nodded, looking down at her knitting gear. "I haven't been able to master any of the skills in class."

Now Sasha was silent. Was she missing something? This wasn't a housewife class, it was supposed to be...oh.

"Ohhh, you were training to be Eren's wife, huh?" Sasha grinned and wagged her eyebrows. It really was no secret that Mikasa always lurked around Eren, to the extent that it was sometimes rather creepy. Mikasa gave a small nod. "You two are practically married already, but, umm..."

Sasha fidgeted again and said, "I'm sorry, but...you shouldn't fret so much. Because you are really good at other things! Like being strong and...stuff!"

"That's what Armin said."

"R-really?" Sasha clapped her hands. "Then see! Armin is smart, so he's right! You should just be the awesome, very strong person you are and kick titan butt for your man!"
"Be myself, you mean?"

Mikasa lowered her scarf at last. It was one thing for Armin to say such things. Armin knew her almost as well as she did. But it was different when Sasha, a person she had just met, tells her this.

"Yes! BE yourself!" Sasha repeated, acting as if she had planned to say that all along.

"You should be yourself, too," Mikasa said. A bell tolled outside, and, ignoring Sasha's look of confusion at her words, Mikasa walked passed her towards the door.