"I don't know if it is nice. What do you do when your purpose in life is gone?" she asked. "Do we find a new purpose here or just breathe until we go home?" She kept thinking about those questions, even if outwardly she rarely said anything about it. She certainly wasn't posting on the net. "We could have a purpose here, finding a way out of these walls or at the very least understand why there are these walls. Some people don't want to leave."
She got up and went behind the bar. She had no idea what anything was, but she opened the bottles and smelled them until she found something that smelled good. "Irish Whiskey, let's see what it tastes like," she said, pouring it in two glasses. "I'd say our world, yours and mine." Mikasa shrugged. "Only for dreamers."
She raised the glass and took a tentative sip. "Not bad." She put the glass down, leaning toward Reiner. "If I'm as hard as I should, you'd be dead, but what I should and what I want are not the same thing." She took another sip. "You could stay and help here. If you go home, you have thirteen years, no? How long do you have left? Years. You can stay here and help here and apparently you don't die. Maybe you can find ways to make up for what you did as well."