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_{Mikasa’s scarf ripped earlier while we were having dinner together, catching up. It was kind of cute the way her eyes filled with worry and concern, the look of utter shock on her face. Am I a horrible person for thinking that? It’s not often you get to see her look so vulnerable. But I could not stand it, that look. A smile would look so much better. So I invited her over to my room—I doubt anyone would have minded—and fixed it, along with some of the frays. But I left it alone enough to maintain its old appearance so it can still hold the same memories. When I gave it back to her, she looked so happy—I almost saw a smile on her lips.}

_{All those pricks to my fingers was worth it. Though I guess that’s a sign to learn how to sew better.}