The final day came under a steel-grey sky, its color as heavy as the tension weighing down the 104th Training Corps. We stood at attention on the parade ground, the rough wool of our clean uniforms scratching at our skin, while the air around us thickened with silence and anticipation.
Shadis paced in front of us. His boots crunched softly over the dirt, his face drawn tighter than usual. This was the moment everything came down to. Three years of training—exhaustion, pain, drills that seemed endless—all compressed into a single list: the Top 10 graduates.
Around me, low murmurs stirred—thin, nervous. Hushed talk of the Military Police, of escaping the front lines, of finally reaching safety inside Wall Sina. For many, being in the Top 10 meant a future away from Titans. For me, it was just a number. Its only meaning lay in what it said about him.
My eyes found Eren, as they always did. He stood a few positions down, straight-backed and focused. His jaw was tight, his eyes sharp. He wasn't hoping for an easy assignment. He wasn't aiming for peace. He wanted proof—evidence that his stubborn will had shaped him into something strong enough to fight back. He practically buzzed with anticipation, like he could barely wait to throw himself into the future he believed in. The Survey Corps. The front lines.
Shadis began the roll call, starting from tenth place. I barely listened.
Jean Kirschtein at sixth. I felt a flicker of irritation. He'd worked, sure. He pushed himself, mostly out of rivalry. Still, sixth? That was generous. Let him feel smug about it. His road to the MPs was wide open. It kept him out of our way. Sasha Braus at ninth, Connie Springer at eighth... background noise.
But then Shadis raised his voice.
"Rank Five!" His tone rang out across the ground. "Eren Jaeger!"
I froze. My chest tightened. A wave of pride, sharp and hot, surged through me. Fifth. He did it. He climbed from struggling at the start to breaking into the Top 10 through nothing but effort and resolve. He deserved it. Every bit of it.
I watched his face closely. His eyes widened, just slightly, then sharpened. A look of fierce satisfaction passed over him. He clenched his fists, standing taller. No smile. But it was there—in his posture, in his silence—the win he had earned. He glanced my way for only a second. Just long enough. In that second, I saw what mattered: pride and recognition. My heart beat faster.
Yes, Eren. You did it.
But then came the names I hadn't wanted to hear.
"Rank Four: Annie Leonhart.""Rank Three: Bertholdt Hoover.""Rank Two: Reiner Braun."
I felt my jaw tighten. Those three—outsiders. Warriors from Marley. Their positions meant nothing. They weren't like us. They weren't learning from scratch or driven by fear or purpose. They came trained. Planted. Everything about their presence felt false.
Annie—cold and distant. Bertholdt—quiet but dangerous. Reiner—pretending to be someone he wasn't. Their ranks weren't real. They hadn't earned them in the same way. In my head, the true list only had two names. Mikasa Ackerman. Eren Jaeger. The rest? Background. Mistaken.
Then came the last announcement.
"Rank One," Shadis said. "Mikasa Ackerman."
It should've meant something. Maybe to others, it did. But for me, it was expected. Obvious. I knew I would be first. It didn't matter. Not really. The only thing I cared about was how Eren reacted.
I turned to look. He was already looking back at me.
This time, there was something new in his face. Not surprise. Not awe. But pride—quiet and real. His lips twitched into a small smile before he pushed it down. But I saw it. It was enough.
That expression—so brief—meant more than any title or reward. He didn't fear my strength. He recognized it. He respected it. It felt like the first moment someone truly saw me. Not the rank. Not the skill. Me.
Shadis continued, explaining our options: the Military Police for the Top 10, the Garrison for most, and the dangerous path of the Survey Corps. The others could celebrate their freedom from danger. Jean could enjoy his distance from Titans. Let Annie, Reiner, and Bertholdt continue pretending.
My path was decided long before today. It lived in my body, in every choice I had already made. Eren was going to the Survey Corps. I would go too. No matter the number next to my name.
When we were dismissed, the formation dissolved into noise. Laughter, congratulations, quiet disappointment. I walked straight through it all, not hesitating, my eyes already locked on him. He was with Armin, accepting his friend's praise, awkward but smiling.
I reached them. "Eren," I said.
He turned to me. His eyes still held that quiet pride. "Mikasa. Number one. Knew you would be."
"Number five is more impressive," I said. I meant it. "You earned that through will alone."
He blinked, surprised. Then he grinned—sharp, confident. "Yeah. I did. And now… the real fight begins."
"Yes," I replied. "Together. In the Survey Corps."
There wasn't anything left to say. It was already decided.
The ceremony was over. The rankings? They didn't matter anymore. What came next was what we had trained for. Side by side, we would move forward into something uncertain. Dangerous. Necessary.
He would burn bright. And I would be there to make sure he never burned alone.