The market buzzed with the hum of bartering voices and clinking trinkets. Between woven baskets of spices and rows of secondhand books, the girls drifted through stalls, their arms weighed with bundles of cloth and tiny wrapped soaps. Mikasa walked ahead with Sasha and Historia, a rare soft glow in her eyes as she tested the scents of various oils, holding up each bottle with quiet care.
Annie lingered behind.
It wasn't like her to stall—normally, she kept to herself, said what needed to be said, did what needed doing. But now, she stood still beside a narrow table crowded with wooden boxes and faded jewelry. The stall was quiet, run by an old woman with clouded eyes and a gentle nod. Annie's eyes fell on a necklace—simple, understated. A small silver blade charm hung from the cord, barely longer than a fingertip. Not flashy. Not expensive.
But something about it reminded her of Mikasa.
She stared at it too long. Her fingers hovered above it, then pulled back. Then reached again. She could already imagine the way it might rest against Mikasa's collarbone, dark against her pale skin. It was stupid. It was unnecessary. Mikasa didn't need trinkets. She wouldn't wear it anyway.
"Looking for something?" the old woman rasped, her voice barely a whisper.
"No," Annie said quickly. Too quickly.
But her fingers brushed over the blade charm again, and this time, she didn't pull back. She reached into her pouch and handed over a few coins.
The woman wrapped it gently in dark cloth, tying it with a string. Annie tucked it into her coat pocket and turned back toward the others before she could second-guess herself again.
"Annie!" Sasha called from a few paces ahead. "You coming?"
Annie looked up. Mikasa had turned too, her arms cradling a paper bag full of oils. Her face was flushed from the sun, a light sheen of sweat on her brow, but her expression softened the moment she spotted Annie.
"Yeah," Annie said, walking quickly to join them. She kept her hands in her pockets.
They made their way back toward the outer path. Mikasa slowed beside her as the others skipped ahead, chattering about which scents they'd use first.
"You didn't buy anything?" Mikasa asked, casting a sideways glance.
Annie shrugged. "Nothing I needed."
Mikasa hummed softly and didn't press further.
Annie's fingers curled around the wrapped necklace in her pocket. The cloth was warm from her body heat. A hundred times, she imagined herself saying something. Just handing it over. Just saying "Here, I saw it and thought of you." But each time, the words curled up like dry leaves in her throat.
So she said nothing.
They walked back in silence, close enough their arms occasionally brushed. Mikasa didn't move away.