I don't have too much experience with Armin and Mikasa's dynamic, so any feedback would be appreciated. We need more happy Armin T_T

Cover art done by Evblum

Connie strokes his chin, concentrating on the words drilled into a large, copper helmet. "This thing says Mark...V?" He reads. "What kind of name is that?"

"That last letter is a numeric symbol for five, not the letter V." Onyankopon corrects him.

Sasha spins around, eyes expanding from amazement. "There's only five of these things?"

The foreigner extends to her a fond smile. "No. It just means it's the fifth installment in the world's latest diving gear. It's a neat invention, isn't it?"

"It is but the name is really lame..." Connie crosses his arms in thought and puffs out his chest to maximum capacity, determined. "Metal-man sounds cooler to me."

Onyankopon chuckles. "So it does. This is your world's first encounter with it, so name the gear whatever you like."

"I call dibs! Metal-man it is!"

"I like Cyclops better." Sasha disputes with a straight-face.

"I got dibs on naming it so I will call it what I want."

"That name is boring. I say we name it Cyclops!"

"Metal-man!"

"Cyclops!"

Through Connie's and Sasha's barking—Jean quickly cutting in and pushing the duo's grinding foreheads apart—Onyankopon keeps smiling, unphased by their group's antics. He turns to Armin. "Ready to put it on?"

Armin's throat closes. The brown layers of the thick rubber suit he wears makes Armin feel like he's wearing four layers of clothes; he also can't fluidly move or bend his limbs. Being more uncoordinated than usual is just unfair and the bronze helmet resting on the seat next to him has Armin toying with his bottom lip, nervous. A glass, circular window large enough to show only the center of his face broadcasts his reflection back at him; he's stupefied, confused on how he's going to see anything on the seafloor while the majority of his head is shielded by a solid ball of hard, thick bronze. He takes in careful, controlled breaths. Mikasa who stands next to him gifts Armin with an assuring smile, one which always curls her mouth so softly and coaxes Armin into finally finding his voice.

"I…" Armin clears his throat. "I think so."

"I know it looks scary but don't worry. This is the latest in the world's sea diving technology. The helmet is airtight and we'll be managing your oxygen supply the entire time." Onyankopon twists his head over to the two still disputing over the suit's name. "We need all the help we can get to tie the weights on Armin so help out please!"

As everyone gathers around Armin, the inside of his suit becomes ten degrees hotter, his heart beating so rapidly, he feels a thumping in his fingertips. The sway of the boat makes Armin more nauseous but he keeps still as Mikasa ropes the weighted belt around his waist while Sasha and Connie tie his large, weighted boots and back of his legs, ensuring air will be sealed in. The weight keeps growing heavier and Armin feels like the suit's rubber layers are pressing deeper in his chest, cutting him off from air.

"You're so lucky Armin…" Armin glances down and spots Connie whose eyes sparkle and water so intensely, he appears like a child who just met their life-long hero. "With all this gear on, you're going to look like some cool guy from the future. And you're the first one on this island to ever do this!"

"I-Is that so?" Armin laughs but nervousness intrudes his cheerfulness. "I guess I am lucky."

"Time for the helmet." Jean announces with a grunt. "Get ready!"

The invisible hand of fear squeezes Armin's heart. The dome of copper is risen above his head, lowered, and upon contact with his shoulders, Armin grunts, the muscles in his shoulders feeling squashed. He waits as his helmet is secured, and finds the glass circle for his vision isn't small; it's painfully small. He can't hear outside noises too well either. Connie and Sasha move their lips through the tiny window but he squints at them, struggles to make out their faint words.

"You feel alright, Armin?" Armin yelps and leaps in his spot from hearing Onyankopon's voice in his helmet. "Don't worry, it's just the internal intercom. We made sure to grab the suit with the latest in communication technology so we can speak to you while you're on the ocean floor. Now how do you feel? Does everything feel tight enough? We're double checking just to be sure."

As good as someone can with a cantaloupe-sized window, Armin glances down to inspect for any tears. Every limb of his body is tied up, being pulled down or steadily crushed, and he's surprised he has yet to make a dent in the deck yet. That's a good sign...isn't it?

"I... I think everything is good." Armin speaks within his helmet.

"Holy crap, I just heard his voice!" Armin hears Connie. There's an audible struggle and then a loud, "ARMIN?! CAN YOU HEAR ME?!"

"Agh!" Armin cries out, his ears ringing and eyes squeezing shut.

"Give me that!" He hears Sasha order. The pain subsides and as Armin cracks open one eye, the entirety of Sasha's face consumes the helmet's window and she stares wildly at him. Armin jerks back so quick, the back of his head hits the solid wall of the helmet and he shouts from pain again. "Armin! When you're down there, make sure you get lots of lobsters, oysters, and whatever else Nicolo puts in that red sauce!"

"Mussels?" Jean who stands close by to Sasha asks.

"Nicolo says Mussels are shellfish so I don't like shellfish." Connie dismisses, sounding disgusted. "Just have him get the lobsters."

"You-Connie. What the hell do you think you have been eating all this time? Red creatures with an exterior skeleton? Like a shell?"

"That doesn't mean—oh...you know it would help if it actually looked like a shell…"

"No, you just don't bother to think."

A hand takes the receiver from Sasha. "We can save all this talk for later." Armin's stiff torso twists around toward the voice and Mikasa comes into view. "We don't know if another enemy boat is going to show up, so let's begin." Focused onyx flick to Onyankopon who walks over and she hands him back the speaking device. "Where's the other suit? I'm going down with him."

"We only have one suit and it was pretty difficult to steal…" Onyankopon answers. "Besides, if Armin goes in alone, all of us can concentrate our focus on him."

"That's good to know. You should keep doing that then afterI join him. I'll take the speargun and I'll swim while he walks."

"…It would also be difficult to manage two divers rather than one, especially if you're just going to be idling in the water. Moreover, there are large, predatory fish in these waters. You'd be putting yourself at an unnecessary risk."

"I'm taking the speargun." Mikasa repeats more firmly. "I wasn't asking."

Armin shivers. He remembers a book from the outside world telling him of a large, sharp-toothed creature called a shark, a hungry predator which moves constantly and quickly through the water. He doesn't want to meet one and he doesn't want Mikasa to fight one off.

His voice sounds like it's echoing through a cave when he speaks through the receiver, "Mikasa," The effort is great but Armin raises his rubber-gloved hands until they're on her shoulders. "I'll be okay. I'm the ideal choice, especially if something goes wrong. I can heal but the rest of you can't."

The majority of his face is covered but Armin only needs his eyes to stress to her, "We need to trust each other. We can't build a bridge with his people if we don't."

The side of Mikasa's face scrunches, noticeably reluctant, but Armin understands her strong sense of caring is hard to put to the side. Her eyes close. "Where do we monitor him?"

"Right here!" Onyankopon sits and pats the spot next to him. "You can take the spot next to me and monitor the air valves."

"This is so cool." Connie hops into a seat, so excited, he bounces in his spot. "This is the way of the future. Tell me how it is down there, yeah? I want to go next!"

Armin can't nod so he smiles and answers, "Okay."

Armin aims his front at Mikasa and sees the worry wrinkling her forehead has eased somewhat. The encouraging smile is back on her face and the crushing pressure in his chest dies down enough for him to breathe steadily again.

"Ready?" Onyankopon checks again, his wide smile excited.

Armin inhales and exhales, balling and unballing his large, gloved hands. "Ready."

There is a noise.

In the depths below the boat, a deep rumbling sound revolves around Armin, quakes the water itself. He can only relate this noise to the threatening rumble of thunder except this strong humming never wavers, sings constantly everywhere and around everything.

Armin blinks rapidly from a thought: this must be the sound of the ocean moving around him. It explains the heft of weights tied to him, how with each attempt to move, his body rises—tries to float—but his outfit which once crushed him pulls him down, saves him from being too buoyant and plants him to the seabed. Even the water is clear as glass, relieving Armin of yet another worry.

The window which Armin wishes was bigger allows him to look down and already there's something new he can't see from above the surface: there are white circles on the sand below, almost like cobblestones except these circle's borders jive constantly, as if they were wriggling worms. Armin bends his back so he can look up. Sunbeams are burning through the sea's surface and the sight hypnotizes him. To him, the ocean's ceiling is a living, breathing mystery, pushes and pulls constantly and coupled with the pulse of waves, light sparkles, dances, collects together then rushes away, over and over again. Nothing on land replicates this—the stars are pretty but stationary and the finest crystal chandelier which hangs in Historia's ballroom pales in comparison to what Armin stares at. He can't tear himself away but he's excited to move around too and see what else this place offers. One of Armin's heavy, rectangular boots makes the decision for him, rises slowly, and as Armin leans forward to fight the current, he walks.

It's difficult but he walks and the landscape Armin travels through is mostly a sandy void dotted with algae-splattered boulders. It's a good thing too — his focus is split. He wants to pay attention to so much—where he's going, watch the water-sky, listen to the ocean's humming siren-song—and had he been in a more crowded space, he would have fallen over himself by now. He's lucky and that's for the first time in a long time.

On a line of boulders not far away, Armin spots a family of lobsters pincering and munching on a green coating of algae. He's intrigued. Carefully, slowly, Armin creeps closer, wanting to see Sasha's favorite meal act in their habitat. These lobsters must be as skittish as he can be though—their thin antennae spring up at spotting him and the set of five scramble off the rock. Armin can't resist.

He puts a slow foot forward and pursues. The squish of the silt beneath him nearly has Armin toppling, but he keeps himself steady, keeps chasing, his breathing billowing under his chin and a smile growing with every step. The lobsters rush into a pinkish red structure nestled in a rock wall and Armin stops. This underwater bush is similar to one from a forest, except its branches are thick, rock-solid and bumpy like popcorn. Onyankopon warned him to keep his distance from such things as they're sharp and infection settles in quickly from one small cut—this must be a coral reef.

Armin waits outside the lobster's home in hopes to inspect them again, but minutes pass and they don't come out. He sighs deeply, admitting defeat.

"Armin," Clouds of sand leap up with him from the suddenness of Mikasa's voice. "Are you alright? You've been quiet for some time."

"I-I'm okay." He shakily relays back. "Just taking it in. All of it is...it's not really something I can explain."

"Just let us know when you want to come back and we'll pull the cage back up." Onyankopon speaks this time. "You've got plenty of oxygen, but if you're uncomfortable in any way, let us know."

Armin smiles. He shouldn't play favorites but he can confidently say Onyankopon is one of his most favorite Anti-Marleyian volunteers.

"I appreciate that." Armin says, ensuring his tone sounds thankful. "I'll be sure to let you know."

Armin returns his attention to the sea. Resigned he's lost a fun observation, he inspects his surroundings. This spot isn't very lively—it's more like the barren sand dunes they rode across before reaching the ocean. The one outlier he finds is this wall of navy-blue rock with a wide split in the middle. It's tall and dreary—radiates with ominous chance—but at the end of the underwater corridor, he sees bits of color.

He should head back by now—Onyankopon must be sweating about Mikasa diving in if he takes too long. Sasha is probably hungry too and in the past, Jean and Connie have been pushed to such intense boredom, they've competed on how-much-salt-water-can-you-drink and Armin is nervous they'll do it again. It'll be dark soon too. But for once, Armin's feet ignores his consideration for others. He walks into the rock wall's divide.

He's not too far from the boat, his life-line is secure and clear of snagging, but his heart still drums in his throat. This canyon has a powerful, ancient presence, towers over Armin in such a way, a centipede-like crawl is summoned on the back of his neck, as if it's a warning that the open craters within these walls are watching him, judges why the likes of him dares travel through its territory. The phantom bands of panic return, squeeze Armin's lungs and his breathing is getting out of hand, nearly fogs the open window allowing him sight. Armin inhales deep and keeps pushing forward. He won't be worried over. This suit is too important and his friends need one less worry in these times they seek relief from. It's only until he reaches the trench's end when Armin feels the seize of panic uncoil, lets him breathe easier. As he turns a barnacle-ridden corner, Armin stares at the front of him. His breathing stops entirely.

From his left all the way to his right, there are coral-reef-staircases exploding with such sight-blinding color, Armin wrenches his eyes shut—his eyes have to be deceiving him again. When he grants himself sight again, he finds it's not a delusion - everything is real. These hardened shrubs stacked upon each other create some sort of messy underwater rainbow and they're gigantic, have flat disks which pop out the sides and fan out like a card deck. Even the many colors striping or painting each creature has left Armin wide-eyed, gaping. He dares to step forward into the open space, twists his body up and around to soak in everything.

Streams of fish rush in a line toward home and destination; dark green creatures who might be cousins of snakes slither through coral reef branches; small, long-snouted fish with curled tails bounce around in pairs. It's magnificent and frightening and strange all at the same time but it's absolutely dazzling to Armin, to finally see how different and alike his world and this one under the sea is. The water swaying thin purple, sea-twig trees is the wind and the roads of fish rushing through this hilly reef is like a river splitting a great, mountainous valley. Armin can't even capture all the colors reflecting off the scales of the rainbow fish racing above him—no bird he's ever seen could shine so magnificently.

Armin rests his hands atop his helmet. His breaking is quick and shaky, his eyes burn terribly, and his mouth hurts—he's been smiling for too long and he's not used to it. To say the ocean was more beautiful than he expected was a massive understatement; so massive, he fights to hold back from crying.

"Armin your breathing sounds erratic…" Mikasa says and through her tone, Armin can visualize the worry on her face. "Are you okay? I can—"

"No…" He replies, his voice hoarse. Armin quickly clears his throat and blinks rapidly, shooing the tears away. "Just...I wish there were suits for all of you so you could see this too."

"I'm first!" Armin hears Connie reinforce his dibs. "I said it first so I'm first!"

"Stop being a distraction, Connie." Mikasa scolds and Armin swears he can hear an eep chirp out of Connie. "We can't hear Armin if you're talking."

Mikasa doesn't have to worry about that—he's too speechless to say much. He's mesmerized by this place where he wishes his ink and paper wouldn't dissolve into bits if he tried to take notes. Armin hopes Onyankopon's world has the ability to capture this underwater dream in a waterproof camera.

Hell, if they haven't figured out a way yet, he will.

Armin stands for what feels like hours and he really should head back this time. A part of him wishes the pressure of the ocean was a good excuse for keeping him in this place all night or that by some impossible chance, a genie had granted his wish of having gills. But his friends have worried long enough.

Armin bends down and grabs a shiny, aquamarine shell nestled in the sand—another reminder for a moment to remember. The small fish loitering by his helmet's window scatter as he stands. He twists around and heads back to the boat.

The helmet rises off of Armin, and immediately, a cool breeze runs over his cheeks, draws a pleased sigh from him. The minute the breastplate and weights are freed from him, Armin yanks off his gloves and moves them to his shoulders, trying to massage the ache away. He grunts then groans louder when stronger hands move his hands away and squeeze, a thumb riding up his neck to rub away muscle stiffness. Armin glances over his shoulder and finds Mikasa there, smiling pleasantly.

"So," she starts, sounding genuinely curious. "How was it?"

He has to process what to say—there's too many words and emotions buzzing around in his head. Armin stares at the shell in his gloved hand then peers up at her, his smile full of wonder and amazement. "It's unlike anything I've ever seen."

Mikasa's front teeth show from her smile, overjoyed, and the approaching Jean's smirk could split his face. "I bet it was." Jean claps Armin's back and he winces. "Glad you had a good time. Let's get you out of the rest of that gear now. Hey, S-...where's Sasha?" Jean looks to the wall and his eyes nearly bug out of his skull. "Where's the speargun?!"

"I challenge the sea!" A determined voice yells at the front of the boat. Feet wearing large flippers come into view and Sasha—her face covered in a diving mask—holds up the speargun. "Bring out your strongest fighter! He'll end up on my dinner plate!"

"You don't need a speargun to hunt for lobster!" Jean yells. "Just lay a trap and be patient!"

"Lobster isn't enough anymore! Onyankopon said there are bigger fish in this water! It's my turn to go in now and I want to find them! I bet they're de-licious!"

"I shouldn't have said anything…" Onyankopon mutters, holding the bridge of his nose.

"Ya think?" Jean growls.

Sasha tries to climb the side of the boat but Connie grabs her from behind. "You never understand first dibs, damn it! I said me first!"

Sasha's arms flail as she struggles and Jean yelps out of fear. "Watch where you're aiming that thing!" As Sasha resists, Jean moves frantically to dodge the constantly moving muzzle of the speargun. He gives Mikasa a pleading look. "Mikasa?!"

"Sasha," Mikasa says. "If I also dive down, I can attract a larger fish to use that speargun on. Eren likes tuna too and we could bring some back to feed everyone."

Jean bows his head. "That's not the kind of help I had in mind..."

"Help!" Connie belts out, struggling to keep Sasha at bay. "Some help would be nice!"

Jean waves his hands in front of him. "No way. Not with Sasha holding that."

"Nicolo will be angry if something happened to that speargun…" A tune of thought sings from Onyankopon. "Or possibly he won't, considering the circumstances."

"None of you are any help at all!" Sasha slips from Connie's grasp and dives into the water with Mikasa quickly following after. He groans, dismayed. "Damn it! At this rate, I'm not going to get a chance to go down at all…" Connie falls to the floor, depressed with his lower lip wobbling.

Straining but able to move in the remainder of the diving suit, Armin approaches and rubs the back of his sore neck. "I'm sorry to add to your stress, Connie…but I have other bad news for you."

"What could possibly be worse than this?"

Armin grins happily at his friend. "Next time, I want to be the first one to dive again."

A/N Idk Armin, seeing Mikasa fend off a shark would be pretty sick to me o_o