Chapter Text
Two friends-Jean and Eren. Anyone who saw them would say, "Ah, like two flowers on the same stem." The comparison was old-fashioned, but Jean and Eren would only smile. A gracious smile. Their friendship was not merely something that swayed in the breeze and added beauty to the garden; its roots ran deep into the earth.
One day in the High school library, they read:
"He who stands by you in celebration, in hardship, in famine, in political upheaval; at the king's court and at the cremation ground-that person is your true friend."
Sitting on the back bench, Eren immediately pulled out the little knife he used for sharpening pencils. Instead of sharpening a pencil, he sliced the index finger of his left hand. Blood spurted out. Jean shuddered in shock.
But the smile never left Eren's face. In a calm voice, he said, "Chanakya didn't write those words for nothing. Touch the blood and swear that, whether in celebration, hardship, at the cremation ground, or at the king's court-wherever it may be-neither of us will ever abandon the other. We'll always stand by each other's side."
Jean made the vow.
A strange excitement filled him, a wave of exhilaration coursing through his blood. That day, perhaps, Fate sat unseen and smiled.
Together they passed beyond the confines of school and enrolled in the same college. Jean chose Commerce. His father, Joseph Kristen, owned a large trading firm with a flourishing business. One day, Jean would have to inherit his father's vacant throne and take charge of it all.
Eren, meanwhile, enrolled in the Science program. He was destined to become a doctor. The ambition was partly his own, but even more so that of his father since he himself was a renowned doctor in Berlin.
The stream that had flowed in only one direction for so long now began to flow both ways. It seemed that the touchstone left behind by Chanakya for testing true friendship had developed its first crack.
The crack appeared during times of celebration and hardship. Jean attended evening classes, while Eren's classes were in the morning. As a result, except during holidays or on Sundays, meetings between them became increasingly rare. Eren could not even attend the grand annual celebration at the Jean household. Jean, too, had to give up his daily evening tennis sessions at the South Club.
Still, stumbling along in this manner, they somehow made it through their student years.
Then, with their entry into adult life, the crack in the stone widened considerably.
As soon as Jean graduated, his father, Joseph, took him straight to the office and seated him at a desk. It seemed that he could no longer manage every aspect of the business alone.
Jean had offered a mild protest.
"Let a few more days pass, Father. Let Eren finish medical school and graduate..."
Joseph had stopped him.
Removing his glasses, he had stared at his son's face for a long moment before saying, "Nowadays, no one makes such a display of friendship. In truth, it's a kind of self-indulgence. You could even call it a tendency to avoid responsibility."
After that, Jean said nothing more.
From the very next day, he began arriving at the office at half past nine every morning, tie neatly fastened around his neck.
Yet whenever he found a spare moment, he would rush to Eren's hostel. Entering his room, he would gather up the open books and papers scattered around. He would start issuing orders-"Bring tea. Bring something to eat. Turn off the light."
Then he would throw himself onto the wooden cot, clothes and all, and declare, "There's no difference between D.E. and D.T., you know. Both are deadly diseases in life."
After the death of Eren's mother,Eren had become a man of few words. Possessing a strong sense of self-confidence, he generally avoided unnecessary commotion. That day, too, he ordered plenty of food. He prepared tea with his own hands and handed a cup to his friend, but he did not turn off the light.
In a gentle voice, he said, "You haven't forgotten that my exams are coming up, have you?"
Jean sat upright at once.
As he made short work of the tea and food, he feigned outrage and said, "You know what they say-a river erodes one bank while building up the other. At this rate, I might end up getting married because of you."
A faint smile appeared at the corner of Eren's lips. He said nothing.
As he got to his feet, Jean spoke in a tone of admonishment.
"Get rid of this introverted nature of yours, Eren. Otherwise, the very knife you're learning to wield on your patients today will one day end up buried in your own chest."
With the sharp crunch of his shoes against the floor, he walked out.
Smiling to himself, Eren picked up the book Jean had folded shut and resumed reading.
Jean had made the same complaint many times before, but Eren knew that if one merely hoisted the sails and surrendered to the winds, the boat of life would never reach its destined shore. At every moment, he would have to grip the oars firmly. He would have to inch forward against the opposing current. Even in moments of the greatest need, no one would pull the string and guide him safely to land.
At last, one day, he graduated as a doctor-a surgeon.
He performed operations with effortless ease and remarkable composure. Armed with the modest reputation he had earned, he opened a clinic in one of the city's bustling neighborhoods. Beside the door, he hung a nameplate:
Surgeon Eren Yeager
He had always been a brilliant student. As his examination results improved year after year, his self-confidence grew in equal measure. Sitting in his clinic day after day, waiting for patients, he never allowed himself to sink into despair.
There was no well-wisher to take him by the hand and lead him to the grand gateway of success. Yet neither did he lose himself in the crowd.
The credit for that belonged entirely to him.
He never turned medicine into a purely commercial profession. Rather than looking at a patient's wallet, he focused on the root of the illness itself. He spoke little, but his calm manner and reassuring smile inspired trust.
As a result, once a patient visited him, they never hesitated to return. More than that, they recommended Dr. Yeager to relatives, friends, and acquaintances.
Praise, like criticism, perhaps spreads like wildfire.
Otherwise, why would the crowd of patients at Eren's clinic continue to grow, morning and evening?
The restraints of routine gradually loosened. Opportunities for rest became fewer. Many days, Eren could not even eat his meals on time. His sleep was frequently interrupted in the middle of the night by the shrill ringing of the telephone.
Meetings between Jean and Eren also became increasingly rare. To an outside observer, it might have seemed that the tide of their friendship was finally beginning to ebb.
From his office, Jean would occasionally pick up the telephone to complain and voice his grievances. Then, without warning, one night he would appear at Eren's clinic like a comet streaking across the sky.
In a tone tinged with mock resentment, he would say,
"Since the mountain wouldn't come to me, I had to come running to the mountain."
Eren never greeted him with unnecessary enthusiasm. Yet the moment Jean arrived, he was quick to shrug off the yoke of his profession. The two friends would sit facing each other in cushioned chairs and launch into casual conversation.
Cup after cup of coffee would be brought in by the servant. The hands of the clock would continue their steady march. Their lighthearted chatter would gradually turn into reminiscing about old times. Then, almost without realizing it, they would wander from politics to social issues, from economics to medical science.At times their debates became spirited and intense.Jean would completely forget about returning home.
At last, when the first light of dawn appeared through the window shutters, Eren would suddenly rise to his feet and say,
"No more. Go home, Jean. I need to take a bath and get to the clinic. I have an operation at nine."
Only then would Jean come to his senses.The exhaustion of staying awake all night would finally spread through his body. Dragging his weary frame, he would make his way down the stairs.
And it was at that moment that one would often see Mikasa ascending them.
Mikasa-Mikasa Angelina Ackerman.
A nurse.
She worked at Eren's clinic. Previously she had been employed at the Medical College Hospital, and it was there that she had first met Eren.
Eren had been required to perform hospital duty. Many other medical students had done the same, but his compassion for patients, his skill in diagnosis, and his gentle, pleasant manner had drawn Mikasa toward him like a magnet.
The attraction had not remained hidden from her colleagues for long.
Whenever they found an opportunity, they teased her, mocked her, and lashed her with sarcastic remarks.
Perhaps Hitch was the most merciless of them all.
There was one particular day Mikasa would never forget.
Both she and Eren were assigned to night duty. Throughout the entire shift they had not shared a single private moment, nor exchanged unnecessary words. Only once or twice had Mikasa noticed a look of gratitude in Eren's emerald eyes.
Yet that alone had filled her heart with an indescribable joy.
Treasuring that small happiness, she had returned to the hostel.
A gathering was underway in the building opposite, the nurses chatting over cups of tea.
The moment Hitch saw her, she drew dramatically,"Oh my! Mikasa, unlike the rest of us, cannot tolerate sin. We are ordinary sinners, you see. The moment we find the person we love, we cling to them. What would we know about platonic love?"
Laughter rippled through the entire group.
To escape the humiliation and embarrassment, Mikasa hurried into her room and shut herself away.
On another occasion, Mina Carolina cornered her. Eren's final medical examinations were approaching. No one doubted that he would pass-and pass with distinction.Using that as an excuse, Mina innocently asked Mikasa,"So what will you do now? The dove's nest is about to burn down!"
Before Mikasa could answer, Hitch burst out loudly,
"No, Mikasa, listen to me. For these last few days, stay wrapped around Eren Yeager's chest so tightly that he fails his exams! At least then you won't have to spend the next six months crying from separation."
Mikasa's heart trembled with fear.Rushing back to her room, she prayed fervently,"God, let Dr. Eren Yeager pass his examinations. I could endure never seeing him again for the rest of my life, but..." She could not finish the thought even in her prayer.
Eren, however, passed.
And he passed brilliantly.
His name stood at the very top of the list.
Then the day of farewell drew near.
Try as she might, Mikasa could not hide her tears. Clasping one of Eren's hands tightly, she said in a trembling voice,"But what am I supposed to do now, Dr. Yeager? As long as you were nearby, I always felt so safe. After this... after this there may be..."
The rest of her words dissolved into emotion.
"A pack of wolves..."
Her throat closed with unshed tears.
That day, Eren could offer only comfort. He could not truly reassure her.
Afterward, he opened his own clinic.
As soon as he had secured a little ground beneath his feet and established himself, he went straight to Mikasa with a proposal.
"My clinic will need a nurse. If you wish, you may come and work there. Of course, I won't be able to pay you very much at first. It will only be enough to cover your basic living expenses-that's all."
Such good fortune was perhaps beyond anything Mikasa had ever dared imagine.
Her voice shook as she replied,
"Why are you embarrassing me by talking about salary, Dr. Yeager? Pay me whatever you wish. I won't object even if you pay me nothing at all. I have enough savings to live comfortably for some time. Just... please rescue me from this hell and take me away from it."
The very next day, Mikasa resigned from her position at the hospital.
Yet even if she had wanted to, she could not make a home for herself in a corner of Eren's clinic the way Eren had. It was not merely a matter of modesty; society itself would have found such an arrangement improper.
Still, how much time did she really spend at the hostel?
When she arrived in the morning, the city had barely begun to stir. By the time she left at night, the bustling city was already asleep.
There was not always work to be done at the clinic, but Mikasa never sat idle. She dusted every one of Eren's books and arranged them neatly on the shelves. She inspected every corner of the room to make sure not a speck of dust remained. Whenever she found the opportunity, she would send Eren's servant away and prepare meals herself.
From time to time, Eren returned unexpectedly and noticed these things.
He would gently scold her."There's no point involving yourself in unnecessary matters, Miss Ackerman. If you have no work to do, you could spend the time studying."
Mikasa never replied.
She would quietly withdraw from his presence.
Six months passed in this manner.
During those six months, the number of patients at the clinic increased, Eren's opportunities for rest diminished, and at the same time a new light appeared in his eyes.
Yes.
Eren had fallen in love.
He had fallen in love with Pieck Finger.
Pieck was the daughter of one of the most renowned attorneys in their neighborhood. Twenty-two years old, educated, beautiful, and the darling of modern society.
Their first meeting had taken place at the Finger residence.
Eren had been called there to examine a patient. Since Pieck was the one who answered all his questions regarding the patient, most of his conversation during that visit had been with her.
She possessed a remarkable way of speaking. Her manners were sweet, graceful, and entirely free of arrogance.
And so, when his professional duty ended that day, he found himself unable to resist the attraction that lingered afterward.
Pieck, too, had taken a liking to the young surgeon.
She admired his straightforward nature, his fearless opinions, and his strong outlook on life.
So she approached him openly.
At first there were invitations to tea.
Then came requests to join tennis games on the lawn of the Finger residence.
Eren accepted eagerly.
Now he had become an almost daily guest at the Finger household.
The new light in Eren's eyes had already led Mikasa to suspect the truth. But her suspicion became certainty the day she saw him emerge from his room carrying a tennis racket.
Mikasa was startled, of course.
Yet the shock struck so suddenly that she could not utter a single word.
Eren seemed to notice.
In a lighthearted tone, he said,
"Even doctors need treatment from time to time. If not for the body, then for the mind. Don't you agree?"
Mikasa merely nodded silently.
"Listen, if someone comes looking for me-or if you need me yourself, though you probably won't-write down this phone number and give me a call."
He gave her the telephone number of the Finger residence.
Mikasa copied it into a notebook.
Just as Eren was about to leave, he paused once more.With amusement in his voice, he asked,
"Tell me, Miss Ackerman, do you have a life outside being a nurse? I'm talking about ordinary clothes, not your nurse's uniform."
Mikasa's heart began to pound.
A faint blush rose to her cheeks.
The amusement in Eren's eyes deepened.
"Tell me, have you ever been in love with anyone?"
Mikasa tried to raise her eyes to meet his, but she could not.
Turning her face away, she answered in a trembling voice,
"No, Dr. Yeager."
"Then don't delay any longer. Give your heart to someone. You'll discover what a wonderful experience it is. Well, I'm off."
Laughing lightly, he left.
And Mikasa sank into a chair, covering her face with both hands.
She knew exactly where Eren was going.
The telephone number belonged to the Finger residence-she knew that much.
And Pieck, Mr. Finger's daughter, was no stranger to her either.
Mikasa had seen her.
She had seen her arrive at Eren's clinic once or twice in her father's car.
Beautiful?
Without a doubt.
And undoubtedly educated as well.
Silently, Mikasa swallowed the sigh that rose within her chest.