Secret Anniversary ~Melting Reason at a Snowy Hot Spring Inn~
Eren and Mikasa are celebrating their one-year anniversary. Normally, Eren teases the girl he likes because he can't be honest with his feelings, but he's slowly started to show his softer side only to Mikasa.
The two of them have a "secret anniversary" that they haven't told anyone about. It's a special day known only to them, completely separate from their real anniversary. To celebrate, Eren took the plunge and booked an expensive hot spring inn deep in the mountains. The tiny inn, far from
Secret Anniversary ~Melting Reason at a Snowy Hot Spring Inn~ - Steam, sweet lies, and the string of a yukata
Stepping through the entrance, it was already another world.
The air was different. The moment he stepped in from the crisp, cold outside, a soft warmth enveloped Eren Yeager's entire body — a blend of thick hot-spring fragrance and the scent of aged wood. Yamazakura-tei. It was far, far better than the photos he'd seen online beforehand.
"Welcome. We are honored by your visit."
Turning toward the voice, he saw an elegant older woman in a fine kimono bowing deeply. The innkeeper, Suzuko Horiike. Every line on her face held gentleness, yet conveyed a certain core of strength. She looked from Eren to Mikasa and back again, smiling at them as if gazing at her own grandchildren.
"When young guests like you come, the inn itself rejoices. Now, please — let me show you to your room."
"W-We're not that young," Eren muttered under his breath, but beside him, Mikasa Ackerman had already melted into the inn's atmosphere. Her jet-black shortcut gleamed under the hallway's indirect lighting. She said nothing. But her eyes shone quietly, and he could feel how deeply happy she was to be here.
(*...She's really happy.*)
Just thinking that made Eren's chest feel strangely restless.
The hallway was polished wood flooring, its cool comfort seeping up through the soles of his feet. Single flowers placed here and there in slender vases added faint touches of color despite it being winter. Everything was a meticulously calculated stillness. No television, no clock. A sealed room for adults, cut off from the world.
Before long, Horiike stopped in front of a sliding door.
"This is your detached room. Dinner will be served in two hours, in the private dining room Juraku."
The moment she slid the door open, the world transformed.
The room was an art piece of darkness and light.
Subdued indirect lighting brought out the soft texture of the earthen walls. In the alcove, a single white camellia — fitting for the season — had been arranged. But more than anything — the view beyond the large glass doors at the front of the room stole Eren's voice away.
A snow garden, illuminated.
The white, piled snow glowed under faint orange light, sparkling like diamond dust. In the center of the garden, an open-air bath carved from rock sent up white plumes of steam, merging with the falling snow in a phantasmagoric shimmer. The murmur of the Seiryu River could be faintly heard in the distance.
"Hah..."
A soundless sound escaped him.
He'd never seen a room like this. How much did one night cost? No — he was the one who'd researched and booked it. Internally panicking, Eren desperately tried to act composed. His heart was too loud. He quietly steadied his breathing, hoping Mikasa wouldn't notice.
"W-Well... it's pretty normal, right?"
His voice cracked.
Mikasa didn't answer. She simply walked right up to the glass doors and looked up at the snowy scene.
"Beautiful."
She said it like a murmur. It was such a small voice, easy to miss — but it reached Eren's ears with strange depth. Her profile, not turning back. The whiteness of the nape of her neck.
Eren's gaze was pinned to her for several seconds.
The sound of his heartbeat pounded deep in his ears.
(*This is bad.*)
He murmured it in his mind. This trip — maybe it was beyond his capacity. In a place like this, just the two of them — what exactly was he supposed to do?
"Well then, please relax and enjoy."
Suzuko Horiike bowed quietly and closed the sliding door.
—In that instant, sound vanished from the world.
Eren and Mikasa were left alone in the room. Even the distant river murmur and wind sounds he'd sensed moments ago disappeared entirely, and only his heartbeat felt unnaturally loud. The room was too spacious. The silence, too deep.
(*I have to... say something.*)
Eren hurriedly opened his mouth.
"D-Do you want something to drink!? Look, there's hot water in the pot!"
"...Okay."
The conversation died. Eren mentally clutched his head.
"The luggage! Where should I put it!? Is the corner better!?"
"...Put it wherever you think is best, Eren."
Dead again. The air was painful. He felt like an idiot for being so nervous. Mikasa was just standing there quietly, same as always.
Oblivious to Eren's flailing, Mikasa rose smoothly to her feet.
"Let's rest a little before dinner."
Saying that, she picked up a yukata and, with a perfectly natural motion, began to untie her obi.
The rustle of clothing. The soft sound of fabric slipping down.
Eren spun toward the wall as if he'd been struck. He straightened his back, fists clenched on his knees. His ears burned. His heart felt ready to leap out of his mouth.
"Eren, aren't you going to change?"
From behind him came a voice — a tone lower than usual, calm.
"Y-Yeah! I'm changing! Of course I'm changing! I'm changing, but—!"
Still facing the wall, Eren grabbed his own yukata with trembling hands. Making absolutely sure not to look in Mikasa's direction, he awkwardly undressed. His heart was pounding so loudly he was afraid she might hear it.
Changing clothes — an utterly mundane, everyday act — had become a terrifyingly sensual stretch of time.
Two hours later — the door to the completely private dining room "Juraku" opened.
The room was dim, with only the candle stand on the table casting a flickering orange light. Eren recalled the story of the "Juraku Incident." Five years ago, a man trying to propose here had collapsed from anemia brought on by sheer nerves. Considering how hard his own heart was hammering now, he finally understood how that man had felt.
On the table was a beautifully arranged kaiseki meal unlike anything he'd ever seen. Mountain vegetables from the Hira range, salt-grilled char from the Seiryu River, white rice made from locally grown Koshihikari.
A waitress poured a thick, syrupy liquid into small ceramic cups.
"This is our special yuzu honey liqueur. The alcohol content is a modest seven percent — we hope it suits your palate. It is also available for purchase at 3,500 yen per bottle."
Eren took a sip, and a mellow sweetness with the refreshing fragrance of yuzu spread through his mouth.
"So good..."
The words slipped out before he could stop them, and he immediately cleared his throat.
Mikasa also picked up her cup. The moment the liqueur touched her lips, her narrow, tapered eyes widened just a fraction.
"Sweet."
She murmured it, her eyes softening.
The alcohol worked faster than expected to loosen her expression. Her cheeks flushed faintly pink. The line of her mouth, which usually gave a rigid impression, relaxed gently. It was a special face — one she showed only to Eren.
"Eren."
She called to him. Her voice was a tone higher than usual, sweet and tender.
"Y-Yeah?"
He looked up, stammering, and found Mikasa gazing straight at him.
"Thank you. For today."
Simple, strong words. It was rare for her to voice gratitude first, like this.
Deep in Eren's chest, a warmth spread slowly. A lump of affection, almost like a dull ache, rose up into his throat.
"...It's nothing."
He looked away to hide his embarrassment, but it was no use. His mouth moved on its own.
"...Are you having fun?"
A gentle voice came out — so gentle it surprised even himself.
Mikasa nodded quietly.
"Yes. Very much. Are you, Eren?"
When she asked it back, Eren caught his breath for a moment. He tilted his cup back as if to dodge the question, swallowing the yuzu honey liqueur. The cloying liquid seeped into his heated body.
"...Of course I'm having fun."
When he said it quietly, Mikasa smiled — like a flower softly blooming.
When they returned to the room, it was already pitch-dark outside.
Beyond the glass doors, the illuminated snow garden shone even more fantastically than it had during the day. Eren and Mikasa, now in their yukata, stood side by side on the veranda. No words passed between them. But this silence was different from the awkward stillness earlier — it was soft, comfortable, peaceful.
From the open-air bath, white steam rose endlessly. The drifting snowflakes, the moment they touched the water's surface, vanished like phantoms. A strange sight, as if it could go on forever.
"Eren."
Mikasa drew close to his side, fitting herself right against him. Close enough that their shoulders might touch, or might not.
She slowly looked up at him. Upturned eyes. Her narrow black pupils seemed almost to glisten. Maybe it was the yuzu honey liqueur. Maybe it was the liberating feeling of the trip.
"Together... want to go in?"
Her voice was quiet. Within its usual coolness, something unmistakably heated was mixed in.
Eren's breath stopped.
He had no reason to refuse. There had never been one from the start. But he understood, with perfect clarity, what would happen next if he nodded.
Mikasa didn't rush Eren as he stood frozen, unable to answer.
She simply looked up at him. Her gaze was heavy.
Eren's reason was crumbling, audibly, into pieces.
The snow fell steadily, deeply, and only the steam rose up — innocent, unceasing.
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