Today was the day. If (Y/N) didn't receive an email stating her proposal had been selected, then that meant she wasn't going to be on the Brain Games.

That would be fine too. It wasn't like being on the Brain Games had been her initial plan for the semester anyway. She just needed to graduate—

"Have you figured out how to solve this equation yet?" Pieck spoke, reminding (Y/N) that she was currently in the library, tutoring Pieck for the upcoming biochem exam. Yes, she had volunteered to help without thinking twice. But it was fine, Pieck had grown to be one of her friends.

"Yep," (Y/N) explained the equation slowly, making sure that Pieck understood every step. If (Y/N) hadn't felt haunted by her father's taunts and demands...she might have pursued a career as a biology teacher. She loved teaching. But she had expectations to uphold, and a father she did not want to make angry.

"Thanks," Pieck tried smiling, but her smile didn't quite reach her eyes. Now that (Y/N) thought about it, Pieck hadn't been her usual upbeat self this entire time. She had been quiet and followed (Y/N)'s instructions. Normally, she would be upbeat and cheerful.

(Y/N) gnawed on her bottom lip, wondering if she should ask. Would she be overstepping? Had she been friends with Pieck long enough to ask about her wellbeing?

Pieck wordlessly continued her work, her eyes downcast, her shoulders slumped. She seemed...sad. (Y/N) was too familiar with that feeling. The way the world seemed to darken, and the familiar tendrils of despair wound its way withing. There was also the fact that Pieck was still adjusting to transferring.

She was practically alone.

"Hey," (Y/N) said gently, mimicking the soft tone Mikasa had used with her last night, during her own existential crisis. "Is everything okay?"

Pieck blinked in surprise, looking up to meet (Y/N)'s eyes. "Yeah. Why do you ask?"

"You seem kind of down," (Y/N) hesitated. She didn't want to make Pieck uncomfortable.

Pieck sighed and stared back down at the notebook she was solving the problems in. She seemed to deflate even more, as if she was giving up even trying to appear like her cheerful self. "Actually, yeah. So, you know how we had to turn in project proposals to become an official member of the brain games?"

"Yeah," (Y/N) nodded slowly, recognizing where the area was headed.

"My idea got rejected."

(Y/N) felt a pang of sadness for Pieck. Having your idea, your brainchild, rejected definitely stung. She had personally experienced that bitter feeling many times in the past. But deep down, she also felt something ugly—relief. One less competitor. One less 'friend' she would have to go against—if she was accepted, that is.

"Oh, Pieck..." (Y/N) paused. She was going to say the usually I'm so sorry, maybe you'll get it next time speech, but she knew that it didn't offer much comfort. "Being rejected is an awful feeling."

"You're right."

"There might not be a bright side to this," (Y/N) admitted. "Sometimes our ideas don't get accepted. Sometimes, other people are not a fan of our work. And I know you must be feeling disheartened right now, but don't let it take away from your intelligence. You're smart, and incredibly passionate. If you didn't get this one, then there are always other tries."

"Thanks," Pieck whispered. "I don't know why I had my hopes up, anyway. I had thought that this competition would have been a fun way to make friends and branch out...but I guess I'll have to find another method."

"Hey, you've already got four friends," (Y/N) reached out and placed a hand atop Pieck's. "We're here for you."

"Four...?"

"Yelena, Mikasa, Sasha...and me," (Y/N) smiled. "You're not alone here, Pieck. We've got you and you got us."

The smile Pieck smiled at that moment had the potential to light up the entire room. She squeezed (Y/N)'s hand in return. "Thank you. I hope that if not me, or Yelena, you will be accepted into the Brain Games. You're so smart, (Y/N). If anyone deserves it, it's you."

(Y/N) could feel her heart practically melt. She really did have the sweetest friends, didn't she?

--

The café was loud and surprisingly rowdy. Weren't they supposed to be quiet enough to accommodate to the needs of busy—

"(Y/N)! Do you want a cappuccino or a latte? Wanna try their sprinkle latte?" Sasha called from the checking out counter. She had insisted on paying for everyone's drinks, claiming that she needed to spoil her friends.

"A latte would be fine," (Y/N) called out, wincing as patrons looked over at her. She took back what she said earlier. Now, she was the one who was being loud. "And not the sprinkle one. Get me a lavender oatmilk latte."

"Girl, do you think I'm rich," Sasha joked, but she placed the order, nevertheless. She was paying for three drinks...that's got to have been expensive.

(Y/N)'s fingernails drummed against the table as she stared at her phone impatiently. It had been days. People had gotten their results. Where were hers? She was growing incredibly anxious.

"You'll get an email soon," Mikasa reassured, reading right through (Y/N). "And you'll have gotten in."

"But Pieck and Yelena were rejected," (Y/N) groaned, putting her head in her hands. "Maybe this is tougher than I taught. How do—"

"Hush. You're spiraling again," Mikasa ordered. "You'll be fine."

"Did someone order lattes?" Sasha chirped as she walked over, clutching three cups. "Two lavender oat milk lattes for my besties!"

"I did not order this," Mikasa narrowed her eyes at the drink before her. "What happened to my americano?"

"Try it. You'll love it," Sasha insisted. (Y/N) thanked the brunette and reached for her cup, taking a small sip. The warm liquid felt nice as it went down her throat, and she felt comforted as if someone was giving her a hug.

"It is...interesting," Mikasa stared skeptically at the drink as she continued to take tiny sips.

"Anyways, what were we talking about?" Sasha's eyes sparkled. "Has (Y/N) finally got a girlfriend? A little birdie told me that you help Pieck out with her work once and a while. And that the two of you are growing closer."

(Y/N) choked on her drink. "Who? Who would tell you that?"

"A secret source," Sasha sang. "Not gonnna tell you!"

"Sashaa!" (Y/N) complained. She envisioned Sasha sitting down with Pieck, demanding her to tell everything she felt about (Y/N). That would have been mortifying. As time passed by, she really began to enjoy Pieck's company. The girl was sweet and caring...and didn't deserve to be pestered by Sasha's insistence of (Y/N) getting a girlfriend.

"If it makes anything better, I wasn't the one who asked her," Sasha reassured (Y/N). "Someone...just observed you guys. Look, you make a really cute couple, you can't deny that. Right, Mika?"

Mikasa looked between (Y/N) and Sasha before humming out an incomprehensible response.

"Sasha, if I wanted to get a girlfriend, don't you think I'd have gotten one by now?" (Y/N) huffed. "I'm busy."

"No. It's not that you're busy...you just have no game," Sasha declared. "Look at you! You're awkward and clumsy, and get tongue tied around pretty girls. I mean I can't blame you, because same, but...at this rate you'll never get into a relationship."

(Y/N) groaned and rubbed at her temples. As much as she hated it...Sasha had a point. She was nervous around pretty girls. It wasn't as if she could help it!

"Hey, cut (Y/N) some slack," Mikasa interjected. "She was smooth when flirting with Pieck."

"Not you too!" (Y/N) jokingly slid down her chair. "I did not flirt with Pieck! We're just friend—"

The shrill sound of a notification from her phone caused her to freeze. That sound, that specific sound, meant she had received an email. And there was only one email she was expecting.

"Oh god," she murmured, her hand reaching for the phone she had placed on the table. She refused to look at the screen, fearing that she would accidentally read the summary of an email saying she had gotten rejected.

"What is it?" Sasha asked, peering at the screen. "Did you get a text message?"

"An email," (Y/N) swallowed. "And I'm not sure if I want to check who it's from. Or even read the email. But at the same time, I'm dying to know what it says."

"The Brain Game's email," Mikasa's eyes widened as she recognized the distress on (Y/N)'s features. "It could be an acceptance email!"

"Or a rejection one," (Y/N) said quietly. "They could have absolutely hated my project propo—"

Sasha reached out and plucked the phone from (Y/N)'s hands. Her warm brown eyes met (Y/N)'s and she asked softly, "do you want me to look at it for you? At this rate, you're going to be panicking for the next ten minutes instead of looking at the email."

"I...actually, yes. Please read the email for me," (Y/N) nodded. It would be much better if someone else read it for her. She felt as if she were about to throw up. Sasha smiled encouragingly and look down at the phone, entering (Y/N)'s passcode quickly. Her face was blank as she scanned through the email.

Mikasa stared at Sasha too, anticipating what the brunette would say next.

"Well?" (Y/N) asked, her stomach churning.

"Well," Sasha sighed. "It was an email from the Brain Game's committee."

(Y/N)'s heart fell. If she had gotten in, Sasha would have been so much more enthusiastic. The girl was practically frowning. It was okay. She hadn't gotten in and that was fine. There were other options for her. Ignoring the fact she had practically rubbed the fact she would get in to Hange's face...she could still pay off for grad school somehow. There were jobs and loans...loans she would be paying off for the rest of her life. And she would probably become homeless and—

"And they said you got in!" Sasha squealed, a smile breaking out on her face.

Mikasa gasped. "Oh my god, that's amazing, (Y/N)!"

"Wait, huh?" (Y/N) blinked. She leaned forward to snatch the phone back, quickly skimming over the email. Congratulations (Y/N) (L/N), out of.... She really had gotten in! The rest of the email went into detail about what to expect from the brain games, and other rules and regulations that she would go into later.

But her proposal had gotten accepted.

She was about to become a participant on one of the biggest academic competitions there were. She had proven herself.

She was smart enough.

"I—" (Y/N) was speechless. She shouldn't have been as surprised as she was—she was brilliant, after all. But years of hearing voices and taunts from those who hadn't believed in her had caused her to have a battered self-esteem. But she had succeeded against all the odds.

(Y/N) was going to be on the Brain Games.