"Will you help me ask out Mikasa?" He looks up to me.

"I...I..." I stutter.

Mikasa, of course. Where was the surprise?

"Why me?" I stare blankly.

"You're extremely intelligent, (Y/N). If anyone can ask Mikasa out, you can!" Jean's cheeks turn a light rose colouring.

"What about Armin? He's a childhood friend and is way smarter..." I remind myself out loud.

"But, you're a girl so you know how they think. I'm not asking for a professional marriage proposal, I just don't want to sound like a douchebag," Jean looks deep into my (E/C) orbs.

"Sure," I smile, grateful for the compliment. Even if it could be seen as a backhanded one...

"Great, did you want to come up to my room?" Jean offers.

"Sure," I repeat.

I sit on Jean's bed, still wearing my Scouting cape over my pyjamas.

"Hey, (Y/N). I'm going to quickly have a shower so I'll be right back," Jean leaves me in his bedroom with the door half open.

I look around his bedroom blankly, sit alert from the nap I had this afternoon.

"(Y/N)?" I hear my name being called. I throw my head to the door where stands Armin, in a loose blue pyjama set that matches the colour of his eyes.

"Armin, hi," I stand up and walk towards the door.

"What are you doing in Jean's room?" He asks, slightly giggling.

"Oh, just helping him with a few things," I rub the back of my neck. I have a close bond with Armin, due to our connection when we were both trainees. We both achieved similar ranks and always used to read together, and we're still close now.

"Okay," Armin warmly smiles and continues to walk back to his room.

I look around in Jean's room to notice a sketchpad on his desk. I carefully walk to the bedroom door and shut it, walking back to the desk and open the sketchpad. On the first page is a picture of a girl who resembles Mikasa, long black hair and wide eyes. I continue to flip the pages of his sketchpad and admire all of his photos, and pause at a girl who resembles myself. In the picture I'm drawn next to Armin reading, and my ear to ear smile frightens me. I look so happy in the picture, so why am I so unhappy now? I flip the pages and stop, and look at a photo of Marco that cracks my soul in half.

On the bottom of the page is the date he passed away, and even though Marco died as a half the picture is drawn as a whole. Marco's eyes are drawn large and caring, and his freckles almost leap off the page. His smile speaks to me and my eyes begin to water.

"Promise me, whatever happens today...we'll stay best friends,"

A tear leaks from my eye and drips onto the centre of the page, onto Marco's chest.

"No," I mutter under my breath, annoyed.

"(Y/N)?" Jean opens the door, a broken expression of anger and sadness spread on his face.