Word Count: 3,025

Jean took a deep breath, then exhaled, clutching a small slip of paper in his hand. He looked at his best friend Marco. "Promise you'll give it to her?" he asked.

"I promise," Marco replied, taking the scrap from Jean's hand. "Everything's going to work out fine, trust me."

Jean curtly nodded and watched Marco walk over to where a girl with raven hair was beating a straw dummy relentlessly. He felt his heart pound as he saw him hand the note to his long-time crush, Mikasa, briefly chatting with her before leaving.

"Well, how'd it go?" Jean asked as he and his freckled friend headed back for the boys' dorms.

"She took it, but she didn't seem too interested in it. Maybe you should just tell her to her face, Jean," Marco answered.

Jean paled, then flushed. "I can't do that," he mumbled.

"And why not?" Marco countered.

Jean looked down. "I just don't feel comfortable telling her, that's all."

His friend only smiled and together they watched the dimming light fade away.

The trainees of the 104th squadron had been at boot camp for a little over two years now, and Jean had been in love with Mikasa since he'd first laid eyes on her. But he'd never been able to tell her his feelings until just now.

He'd just written her a love note, telling her his feelings, and had Marco deliver it. Jean was ashamed at his spinelessness, but he honestly couldn't do it on his own. It was all he could do now was hope she reacted well.

The sunlight faded away, and the two friends still stayed out, watching the stars crawl across the sky. They didn't talk, but they were happy that it was like that.

Eventually, Jean got up. "I'm going to bed. See you in the morning."

"Oh. Goodnight, Jean."

"Goodnight, Marco."

The next morning, Mikasa woke up to Sasha's screaming. But, they weren't screams of terror or pain. They seemed to be screams of… fangirling, was the word? Yes, they were fangirl screams.

Still somewhat groggy, Mikasa rolled over onto her side and looked at her friend. She was reading the note that Jean had written to her, delivered courtesy of Marco.

Sasha noticed her friend roll over and rub the sleep from her eyes. "OH MY GOSH MIKASA, DID YOU READ THIS? THIS IS SO SWEET, YOU NEED TO GO TELL JEAN WHAT YOU THINK OF IT -" she began, screaming.

"How about no," Mikasa replied, cutting off Sasha's screams.

"HOW ABOUT NO TO THAT NO! C'MON, MIKASA, IT'S NOT EVERY DAY THAT A GUY CONFESSES TO YOU!" Sasha cried in response.

"If you keep that up, then I'm not going to keep feeding you, Sasha."

That did it for Sasha. Her excited smile faded away and was replaced by one of horror and offense. To complete the look, she touched her heart gently and shuffled backwards on her bunk. "You wouldn't," she growled.

Mikasa sat up and glared at her best girl friend. "I can, and I will if you don't stop this annoying fangirling. Please return the note, Sasha, I'm going to burn it."

Dejected, Sasha handed over the slip of paper, and Mikasa crumpled it and put it in her pajama pocket.

Her other roommates yawned, and one by one they all got up, except for Annie, who had a tendency to sleep in, and Ymir, who just didn't care enough to wake up. No one dared wake Annie, as she looked quite frightening when she slept. Nor did they dare touch Ymir, who would beat them half to death if they tried.

Mina yawned. "Did I heard Sasha screaming a few minutes ago?" After sleeping in a dorm with Mikasa, who had regular nightmares that included fits of screaming and kicking, many of the girls in the 104th trainees squad had grown accustomed to sleeping through shrill noises.

"Yeah, I could've sworn I heard Sasha screaming about a confession or something earlier," Christa added from her bunk.

Hanna poked her head out from the bunk beneath Mikasa. "Eh? Did Connie finally confess to her?"

Sasha's cheeks turned pink. "NO! No one confessed to me, sillies. Je-"

The second Sasha had said that first 'no', Mikasa lunged across the room and clamped her hand around Sasha's big mouth.

Sasha had a choice at this point. Spill the biggest piece of juicy gossip she'd ever known, or eat heartily for the rest of her days at boot camp, given Mikasa didn't get angry at her again.

However, her internal struggle would not need to come to light, as their cabin mates watched a slip of paper flutter out of Mikasa's pocket and floated gently to the floor. Mikasa's eyes went wide as she tried to catch the note and continue clamping Sasha's mouth closed at the same time, but she only succeeded in falling off her bunk, dragging Sasha with her.

Slowly, their cabin mates put two and two together.

"JEAN CONFESSED TO MIKASA?" Mina was the first to scream, and soon the entire cabin was talking loudly about it, save Ymir, who pulled her pillow over her ears before finally yelling above all the others:

"GUYS! EITHER TALK ABOUT IT AT BREAKFAST OR DON'T TALK ABOUT IT AT ALL! SOME OF US ARE TRYING TO HAVE A GOOD MORNING HERE!"

The girls settled down and Mikasa released Sasha, her face burning with embarrassment as she picked up Jean's note and stuffed it in her jacket pocket. Feeling quite ticked off, she showered and changed, then headed to the mess hall with a straight face.

Jean picked at his eggs, feeling hungry but not really wanting to eat. Marco looked at him, concerned, then suddenly elbowed him.

"Hey!" Jean snarled, then looked in the direction that his friend was pointing in and watched Mikasa walk stiffly in. He noticed she seemed somewhat uncomfortable, forcing herself to look straight forward and ignore everyone around her.

He watched her as she got her portion, then sat at the table next to one one he sat at, the one where her friends Eren and Armin regularly sat. Jean seriously considered asking her how she felt, but he got elbowed by Marco again.

"Don't do it, Jean. If she wants to talk about it, then she'll do it on her own," the freckled boy told him, and Jean silently agreed and began to slowly eat his breakfast.

Other things seemed off about today as well. Many girls stopped to talk to Mikasa before making their way over to their regular tables, but instead of replying to them calmly, there was a tinge of anger to her voice, as though she might whip out a knife at any moment and stab them.

"The girls are acting quite peculiar today, aren't they," Marco noted.

Jean's stomach did flips as he remembered the note. "Yeah," he replied.

At that moment, Sasha waltzed into the room, grabbed her serving, then twirled - yes, twirled - over to where Mikasa sat.

Jean didn't want to eavesdrop on their conversation, but for some reason, he just couldn't help himself today.

"So? Are you going to talk to him about it?" he heard Sasha say.

"Talk tuh who abou' whut," Eren asked, his words jumbled from food.

"Eren, don't talk and eat at the same time," Mikasa scolded.

At this point, Jean stopped eating, though he didn't realize it. He was too focused on the people sitting at the table next to him.

"But who are you going to be talking to? What's the big deal here?" Eren demanded after swallowing a large bite of food.

"Jean confessed to Mikasa through a note, and I think she needs to tell him how she feels in response," Sasha blurted out.

It must've come out louder than she'd anticipated, because as soon as she said it, all the kids within a five meter radius turned and looked at Jean. None of them spoke, and soon the entire hall had caught on, remaining dead silent.

Jean felt heat creep up his cheeks, and he knew he was blushing. His heart began to race, and all he wanted to do was get up and run. He didn't have any destination in mind, he just wanted to get up and run. And run. And run. He wanted to run for hours, run miles and miles away, and to run to that silly ocean Armin was always talking about.

And then, once he got there, he wanted to drown himself and never see the light of day again.

Instead, he forced himself to look down at his food and eat. When he finished eating, he forced himself to get up calmly and toss his leftovers away. He forced himself to walk out of that mess hall as though nothing had ever happened.

The instant he was out on the porch with the door closed behind him, Jean broke. He leaned a fair amount of his weight on the rail and squeezed his eyes shut. He took several deep breaths, trying to calm himself and process all that had just happened.

"Hey Jean, you okay?"

Jean turned to see the tall and skinny Bertolt standing there, a kind expression on his face.

"Yeah, sure," Jean replied, sounding almost careless.

Bertolt leaned in and lowered his voice, even though there was no one else around. "Everyone in the mess hall is talking about your confession now. Mikasa hates all the attention, and I think she almost stabbed someone, I think it was Sasha."

Jean's heart did a few flips before plunging into his stomach. He felt a sickening burn in the back of his throat, and a lump began to form as well.

"So she hates me now," he managed to choke out. "She hates my guts, and she almost killed her best friend because I was too chicken to tell her in person in a private place."

Bertolt leaned back and stood up straight. He looked down at Jean. "Well, not necessarily. She might just be getting defensive, not wanting anyone to know who she likes, if she likes anyone at all. She might like you back, she might not. You know Mikasa, she hates attention, so obviously all this would make her hostile to anyone."

That made Jean feel a little bit better. "Thanks Bertl… I needed that."

Mikasa spent the rest of her breakfast getting peppered with questions about Jean, and slowly, she began to hate him. She knew deep down that he wasn't to blame for all this undesired attention, but she still needed a scapegoat.

She ate her breakfast angrily. Her whole. Entire. Breakfast. She didn't set aside the usual forty to sixty percent of it for Sasha. She ate the entire thing, relishing Sasha's pained expression. Mikasa felt exceptionally full as she forced down the last few bites, but she was feeling exceptionally angry at the world, Sasha in particular, so she felt it was justified.

Afterwards, Mikasa got up and dumped her plate, then stormed outside. She saw Jean and Bertolt talking, and she vaguely heard Jean call out to her, but she blocked him out as she continued back to her cabin.

"Mikasa!" she heard Sasha scream. She ignored it.

"Mikasa!" Sasha screamed again, exasperated. This time, Mikasa stopped.

"What, Sasha?" she said, glaring.

The potato girl caught up with her friend. "Really... sorry..." she panted. "Didn't… mean… to talk so loud."

Mikasa's nostrils flared as her brown-haired friend continued.

"Really though, Mikasa. What did you think of the note?"

"It was sweet, but I really wish he told me in person."

"But how do you feel about Jean? How did the note change your perspective on him?"

At that, Mikasa grit her teeth, but began talking in her usual calm manner anyways.

"I hate him. If he'd had the guts to tell me in person, I could have just told him that I didn't feel the same way, but that it was nice for him to actually tell me. But instead, he started a huge mess that I really don't want to deal with. All this unnecessary attention will be a distraction, and I don't need distractions when I train.

"You see, Sasha? If he'd never told me, or at least through anything that didn't leave a physical trace, then he'd've just been a little sad, but then we could have both moved on and lived our lives with a little more clarity. But now he's gotten himself in a huge mess, and roped me in as well. I don't need this.

"And maybe hating him is a bit extreme. Fine. But that's just how it's going to be from now on." Finishing her mini-speech, Mikasa turned around and began walking once more, leaving Sasha dumbfounded in her wake.

"Holy shit," she whispered.

"Jean! Jeeeaaaaan!"

Jean perked up when he heard his name. Bertolt had long left him alone with his thoughts. He watched Sasha run over to where he was standing, then waited for her to catch her breath.

"Jean… you know that note you sent Mikasa?"

Jean felt his throat tighten. "Yes," he gulped.

"I talked to her about it. And I asked her what she thought of it."

"Oh no…"

"And you know what she said?" Sasha looked him in the eye as hers burned with the fire of a challenge.

"Sasha, I don't want to know."

"She said it was sweet."

Jean's eyes widened in surprise, and hope began to flutter in his heart. "She did?"

"But she also says she wishes you told her in person."

"...Oh."

"But there's more to it than that."

"I don't need to know. Thanks for the info, though, Sasha."

"She also said she hates you."

Jean felt his heart get crushed at that exact moment.

"She says it started a huge mess…"

"Stop it, Sasha…"

"And she hates all the attention you've dragged on her."

"I get it, you can stop now."

"And she hates that you've roped her into all this drama."

"Sasha, stop."

"And now…"

"Sasha."

"She's been embarrassed…"

"SASHA."

"In front of everyone..."

"SASHA, PLEASE," Jean begged. Every word Sasha said rang true in him, but he didn't want to hear any of it. The truth was like an arrow, piercing deep into his soul, and he hated it.

"And she hates you for being so childish that you couldn't tell her yourself," Sasha finished, ignoring Jean's every plea. She firmly believed Jean deserved to know the truth, and now she'd delivered it.

Jean said nothing. "You didn't have to tell me all that," he said after a long time.

"It needed to be said."

"But not like that!" Jean spat.

"Then how? I can't just be sugarcoating everything to make you feel better. I hate to be using one of Mikasa's quotes on you, but it's a cruel world out there. Beautiful, but cruel, and you need to know that," Sasha countered.

"You could have…" Jean trailed off, then began to struggle with his words. "You… you…"

"You're acting like a child right now, Jean."

Jean leaned against the rail and hung his head for a few moments. Afterwards, he only glared. Sasha took that as a cue to continue.

"I told you what you needed to know. You can see the wound in full light now. The only way to let it heal is to see it, the whole thing, in full view, then bandage it. That's all you can do for now. But… don't forget to change your bandages*, Jean. Wounds get worse when you don't change the bandages," Sasha said in a kind tone. "I hope someday you can forgive me for breaking this to you so harshly." She then patted Jean on the head in a motherly way and walked away.

Jean took in a ragged breath, then exhaled equally raggedly. He did this several times, trying to choke his emotions.

Finally, he calmed himself down and took a deep, smooth breath. He decided that, no matter how Mikasa felt, he wouldn't hold it against her. Even if it was so much easier to blame her for all that had just happened, he wouldn't. He'd take whatever came his way, and use it to make him stronger.

He'd heard that somewhere, before. It was a very old quote. "What doesn't kill you makes you stronger. Stand a little taller. It makes a fire, and your footsteps even lighter." Jean smiled slightly.

He silently thanked Sasha for telling him the truth, then headed for his dormitory with his head held high.

Epilogue.

The next year and a half was hard for Jean. He couldn't kill his feelings for Mikasa overnight, he knew that. But he wanted to rid himself of them. Yet oddly, they clung to him, and he hated it. He hated himself for not being able to stop liking her.

She acted coldly to him, but they still remained. Even when she insulted him, or yelled at him, he still felt his heart race and stomach do flips.

And he hated it.

Eventually, their relationship got so bad, that all he wanted to do was kill Mikasa. He wanted to stab her, over and over again, then laugh over her mangled and bloodied body.

But he wouldn't. Because he couldn't. Because deep down, he still loved her.

He eventually fell deep into a pit of self-hatred as his life turned to shit.

His best friend had died with no one there to see.

Two of his cabin mates had turned out to be the ones who'd ruined the lives of humanity.

The people he tried to get close to ended up all dying.

The one person whose forgiveness he wanted most never gave it to him.

Slowly, though, he carried himself out of that pit on a ladder, climbing slowly. Rung by rung. Step by step. Until one day, before he even knew it, he was out, and his feelings were nothing more than a fleeting memory. He'd forgiven himself for things he shouldn't have hated himself for in the first place.

All was well.

* This is an analogy I made up a little while ago, comparing mental scars to physical ones. When you get a deep wound in real life, you generally require stitches to keep the wound in place, and bandages to keep the wound from getting infected. But, if you don't change the bandages on a wound, then it'll only become worse than if you'd never bandaged it in the first place. However, you cannot change bandages without looking directly at the wound. I believe the same can be said about mental wounds and scars.

Author's Note: This fic is based very heavily on something that happened to me a little over a year and a half ago. So… if the characters acted or out of character, I'm sorry. A lot of dialogue and actions are the raw stuff that people told me or what I'd said or done. Also, I'm sorry for torturing Jean so much in this fic. But someone had to represent my tortured soul. :P

Thank you for your cooperation. Thanks for reading, and don't forget to review, if that's what you're into. Have a nice day~