innatam:

          _{A flash of tan, black, and red caught his attention and without a doubt, it had to be no one other than Mikasa. Only the oriental beauty adorned an array of colors compared to the boring uniform they wore. The silk scarf around her neck acted as a trademark, painting the sky red as she passed, swinging on the cables of her 3DMG. One could compare it to blood but Marco saw it as something more beautiful, like a blooming rose.}

           _{Landing on a branch, Marco was about to shoot himself forward once more to reach their destination, he froze at the sudden sound of fabric ripping. Eyes lift in surprise in time to see Mikasa land uncharacteristically clumsily on a branch, eyes falling at the end of her scarf.}

           _{Maneuvering himself to her side, he let out a small, nervous laugh. “How bad is it?“ It seemed like her scarf caught on a tree branch and the fabric started to rip up the center. Without asking, he reached out, taking the scarf in his hand and looking it over. It did not look too bad, ”… . I can fix it for you, if you want? After, I mean.“ Marco knew how important that scarf was for her, it would be a shame if it was ruined.} 

          _{Darting over the rooftops and maneuvering herself past the towers felt like second nature to her, akin to a habitual pattern she had acquired through constant repetition. Run. Jump. Soar. There was balance; and then there was timing. These were only a few amongst the many factors needed to master the 3DMG; and indeed, those with her now have without a doubt taken those fundamental determinants to heart.}

          _{Steel grapple-hooks shot out and impaled themselves into rough bark, and with the momentum of her last swing, she propelled herself forward–}

          _{–Yet the sound of tearing fabric held her back. A faint noise, yet alarming enough to catch her off guard for a mere split second; costing her the smooth landing she initially intended to make in favor of a rushed and somewhat awkward halt. Eyes darted towards the ends of her scarf; the hiss of her retracting wires resounded as her feet planted themselves firmly upon the branch, and without hesitation a hand reached up to grasp the scarf, carefully and gingerly unwrapping itself from her neck. Parted lips pursed themselves into a thin line as the sight of a small tear revealed itself. In all honesty, she shouldn’t have expected any less, bringing it with her on the line of duty. And yet…}

          _{Hands larger than her own moved to take the muffler; in any other circumstance, she would’ve undoubtedly move to pull the precious memento of her memories away from prying hands, though the familiar voice that reached her ears reassured her otherwise. And so she uncurled her fingers around the fabric and let it slip from her grasp, looking at the other with hints of curiosity.}

          _{”Ah– It’s just a tear… I think this should be easy to fix.“ Her skill with threads and needles weren’t the best around what with little practice she had concerning that, though it seemed simple enough to fix. She felt a bit wary, but otherwise saw no harm in trying to fix it herself… Though perhaps, it might be better to leave it to someone who might be a bit more skilled at it than her; though was Marco one of those people? Her lips remained parted by the slightest as her gaze trailed back down to her keepsake item. ”… But, if it’s not too much, could you?“}