Am I in Attack on Titan with a Death Note???

He turned toward Mikasa and gestured for her to come closer. She hesitated briefly but stepped forward, her expression unreadable.

Without warning, Zen reached out and pinched her cheek lightly.

Her eyes narrowed.

Mikasa didn't stiffen in embarrassment—she reacted on instinct. With a sharp motion, she slapped his hand away, her grip tightening slightly as she did. Her gaze turned cold.

"Don't do that," she said, voice calm but firm.

There was no trace of a blush, no hesitation. 

Zen chuckled, rubbing his hand where she'd struck him. "Tch. You're no fun."

Mikasa didn't respond. She simply stared at him for a second longer before turning away, uninterested in entertaining whatever game he was playing.

Zen let out a small chuckle, shaking his head. "Cold as ice, huh?"

Mikasa didn't respond. She had already turned her attention elsewhere, her focus shifting back to Carla. The woman was still weak, barely able to stand on her own.

Zen stepped in without hesitation, slipping an arm around Carla to support her. "Come on, let's get you somewhere safe."

Carla, though exhausted, managed a faint smile. "Thank you…"

Mikasa gave a small nod and took the lead. She didn't waste time hesitating or second-guessing—she simply moved. Zen followed, keeping Carla steady as they made their way through the ruined streets.

Behind them, footsteps sounded—hurried and uneven.

Eren.

He had been trailing behind, his breathing heavy, his expression dark. His eyes locked onto Zen, specifically at the way he was holding onto Carla, his mother.

Zen barely acknowledged him. If he noticed Eren's glare, he didn't care.

Mikasa, on the other hand, didn't even look back.

Eren clenched his fists but kept quiet. For now.

After a few minutes, they came across an abandoned house on the outskirts. 

"This will do," Zen said, leading Carla inside and carefully setting her down against a stable wall.

Mikasa silently scanned the area, checking for any threats.

Eren finally spoke up, his voice low but tense. "You don't need to be that close to her."

Zen raised an eyebrow, then smirked. "Relax, kid. I'm just making sure she doesn't collapse."

Eren took a step forward, his glare intensifying. "She's my mom. I'll take care of her."

Carla, despite her exhaustion, furrowed her brows at Eren. Her grip on his shoulder tightened slightly.

"Eren," she said, her voice firm but gentle, "that's enough."

Eren flinched slightly but didn't look away from Zen, his frustration still simmering beneath the surface.

Carla sighed. "I raised you better than this. This young man helped me when I could barely stand, and all you can do is glare at him?"

Eren clenched his jaw but didn't argue. He looked down, fists tightening on his knees.

Carla softened slightly but didn't let up. "I understand you're upset, but you need to learn when to pick your fights. This isn't one of those times."

Zen smirked from where he leaned against the doorway. "Listen to your mom, kid."

Eren shot him another glare, but this time, he said nothing.

Mikasa, standing near the window, remained silent as well, uninterested in getting involved.

Carla exhaled slowly, then gave Zen a tired smile. "Thank you again for helping me."

Zen shrugged. "No problem."

Eren's fists remained clenched, but after a few moments, he muttered, "Sorry, Mom…"

Carla nodded in approval before resting her head back against the wall, exhaustion finally catching up to her.

Carla let out a slow breath, her body finally allowing itself to relax now that they had found shelter. She looked up at Zen.

"You never told me your name," she said softly.

Zen smirked. "Didn't think it mattered."

Carla gave him a knowing look. "It does. I'd like to know who I'm thanking."

He shrugged, leaning back against the wall. "Zen."

She nodded. "I'm Carla Jaeger." She gestured toward Eren. "And this is my son, Eren."

Zen glanced at Eren, who was still sitting rigidly beside her, jaw clenched. "Yeah. I figured."

Carla smiled faintly despite the tension in the air. "And Mikasa… well, she's practically family."

Zen turned his gaze to Mikasa, who stood near the window, arms crossed. She didn't react to the introduction, merely watching him with her usual unreadable expression.

"Figures," Zen muttered. "You're all pretty close."

Carla sighed. "We've been through a lot together." Her gaze softened. "And now, it seems you've been thrown into all of this too."

Zen chuckled. "More like I walked into it."

Eren scoffed. "Why?"

Zen turned his attention to him, smirking. "Why not?"

Eren's eyes narrowed. "That's not an answer."

Zen tilted his head. "It's the only one I've got."

 ...

Zen sat on the edge of a rooftop, gazing down at the burning remains of Shiganshina. The air was thick with the stench of smoke and blood, but the battlefield had fallen into an eerie silence. The last of the Titans still roamed aimlessly, their hunger unsatisfied.

Beside him, the Shinigami sat in the shadows, its hollow eyes watching the destruction unfold.

"So the current situation is that only the Shiganshina District has been breached, and Wall Rose remains intact," Zen muttered.

The Shinigami nodded slightly. "Hmm… You killed the Armored Titan before it could break through the gate to Wall Rose."

Zen ran a hand through his hair. "That means the military inside the walls won't panic the way they originally did. The evacuation that was supposed to happen won't. But does that change anything?"

The Shinigami chuckled. "It changes everything. Without that fear, they won't push forward as desperately. No forced retreats, no military shake-up. The Survey Corps won't send their soldiers deeper into Titan territory. The truth hidden within these walls might stay buried a little longer."

"Sigh..."

"If I really get involved in this, I don't even know if the Death Note has enough pages to write all their names."

The Shinigami let out an amused chuckle, its hollow eyes gleaming in the dim light. "The Death Note has more pages than you can imagine," it said. "You could write down the names of every Titan, every Marleyan, every Eldian—hell, even every human in this wretched world—and you still wouldn't run out of space."

Zen exhaled sharply, leaning back against the rooftop. "Tch. So I really could end it all if I wanted to."

"You could," the Shinigami admitted, tilting its head. "But will you?"

Zen stared up at the sky, lost in thought. A part of him wanted to walk away from all of this. Leave the war, the Titans, the cycle of violence behind.

Maybe take Mikasa and disappear somewhere far from this madness. But deep down, he knew it wasn't that simple.

"Even if I run, the world won't stop burning," he muttered. "Marley won't stop hunting Eldians. The Titans won't just vanish. And someone else will take my place in this twisted game."

The Shinigami grinned. "Now you're starting to understand. This isn't a world where people get to walk away. It's a world where the strong dictate how history unfolds. The question is—do you want to be the one writing names, or the one whose name gets written?"

Zen's grip on the Death Note tightened. His hesitation was fading. He had already changed things—killing the Armored Titan had shifted the course of events. That meant he had power. And if he had power, he could decide what came next.

"Then I'll keep going," he said, standing up.

The Shinigami's grin widened. "Good. So, what's next?"

"What's next? Wait for Eren to get the Founding Titan? What else can I do?" he muttered.

The Shinigami appeared lost in thought at the mention of the Founding Titan.

"...Thinking about something?" he asked.

"Yes..."

"What are you thinking?" he pressed.

The Shinigami's gaze drifted toward the beautiful night sky, its eerie glow reflecting in its eyes.

"I was just wondering... The first Founding Titan—her name was Ymir, right? Why did she remain a slave even after gaining such power?"

There was a pause, the night air heavy with silence.

"She could have freed herself. She had the power to destroy everything, yet she chose to serve. Why?" the Shinigami mused, as if speaking to itself.

He exhaled, watching the stars shimmer above. "Is it because power means nothing if you don't believe you deserve to use it?"

Zen narrowed his eyes. "She stayed a slave because she thought she was one."

The Shinigami let out a low chuckle. "Funny, isn't it? Such power… wasted on a broken mind."

"Hmm.. What is your Name?"He asked looking at the shinigami

The Shinigami tilted its head, glowing eyes narrowing with amusement.

"My name?" It let out a dry chuckle. "Curious, aren't you?"

Zen held its gaze, unfazed. "You know mine. It's only fair I know yours."

The Shinigami was silent for a moment before speaking. "Names hold power… but I suppose it doesn't matter much here. Call me whatever you want."

Zen scoffed. "That's not an answer."

The Shinigami let out another chuckle, stretching its wings lazily. "Fine. You may call me… Kuyr."

Zen took a moment, letting the name settle in his mind. "Kael, huh?" He glanced up at the stars again. "Tell me, Kuyr… Do you think Ymir ever regretted it?"

Kuyr's eerie grin widened. "Regretted what?"

"Never using her power for herself. Never even trying to break free."

Kuyr exhaled, shaking his head. "Regret? Hard to say. Some chains aren't made of iron. Some people—" he paused, his grin growing, "—or titans, I guess—are born slaves and die slaves, no matter what's in their hands."

Zen leaned back slightly, his fingers tapping idly against the Death Note. "That's the thing, isn't it? We act like we know why she did what she did, but we don't. Not really."

Kuyr tilted his head, watching him with mild curiosity.

Zen continued, his voice steady. "It's easy to look at someone's choices from the outside and call them weak. Say they should have done this, should have done that. But we'll never know what she was thinking at that moment. We weren't there. We never lived her life, never felt what she felt. So how can we say what she should have done?"

Kuyr's grin lingered, but his eyes studied Zen with newfound interest. "Hah… So, you're saying it's all about perspective?"

"Exactly." Zen exhaled, watching the cold night sky. "Maybe she saw things we couldn't. Maybe, to her, rebellion wasn't freedom. Maybe she thought she had no choice. Or maybe… she was just tired." His grip on the notebook tightened slightly. "We assume power should be used a certain way, but that's just our perception. To Ymir, maybe the real prison wasn't being a slave—it was something else."

Kuyr let out a dry chuckle. "And what, you think that changes anything? In the end, she still lived and died in chains."

Zen smirked slightly. "And yet, her name still shapes the world today. Who really won?"

Kuyr was silent for a moment before his grin widened. "Hah. You're not as dull as most humans, I'll give you that."