Chapter 18 - Window

                                        

                                              



This chapter should be a bit shorter than the previous ones, but I don't think that's an issue.
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Location: Shiganshina District, Wall Maria
Year: 845
Time: Morning



"Can I look at your hands?"
That question was one of the many odd ones Mikasa had started asking him over the few months he'd known her.  It's normal for a kid to ask someone older than them. Sometimes, she'd ask rather innocent questions, like if she could have a piggyback ride or if she could teach him how to sew.
Sort of...
That last part resulted in Kiyotaka pricking himself on the needle.
Anyway.
Hands were now on the agenda today.
"My hands?" He asked, blinking at the younger girl, who nodded in confirmation. 
Kiyotaka Ayanokouji had long forgone trying to distance himself from Mikasa by attempting to deny her strange requests. It wasn't because he'd given up or anything, it was due to the knowledge that she wouldn't push the invisible boundaries he'd placed over a long time.
Taking his left hand, he stretched it out, having Mikasa hold it with her small ones and eyeing them carefully. Her touch was light, almost hesitant.
"..."
"..."
The silence lingered between them. What was the point of all of this? He didn't know, but if it satisfied her curiosity...
"Your hands are rough," she said softly, her voice barely audible over the distant chatter of the market.
"You've only now noticed?" 
Mikasa felt his palm with her thumbs, pressing on it lightly before her brows furrowed. "How?"
"I work in a bakery, Mikasa. With bread and other doughs," he explained patiently. "It means my arms are constantly at work—"
"No," she suddenly interrupted. "You don't understand my question. How?"
Kiyotaka tilted his head slightly, studying her. "I'm not sure repeating a singular word will help me answer your question. How what?"
"How did you get so strong?" she clarified, now glancing up at him. "What I saw... I don't think working in a bakery gives you that kind of strength."
'When did she get this observant?'
For a moment, Kiyotaka debated internally. Should he tell her even the smallest bit of truth? Most certainly not. He didn't want anyone to know about his origins, the world he came from, or the childhood he had in the White Room. Such revelations would either label him as mentally unstable or, worse, draw unnecessary attention to himself. 
The safest option was to maintain the facade, even with children like Mikasa.
Yet, perhaps it was time to set new boundaries—ones that allowed for a semblance of trust without giving away too much.
He sighed, the sound barely audible. "It's complicated," he said finally. "And I'd rather not share anything."
Mikasa's expression shifted, the faintest flicker of hurt crossing her features. "Not even with me?" she asked. "I can keep a secret."
Kiyotaka shook his head. "It's best for you not to know for now."
"...Is it the reason why you saved me?"