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Chapter Text

***Mikasa, Eren, and Armin join the cadet corps. This chapter focuses on them leaving underground and joining the cadet corps. I am building up to RivaMika moments. If you just want RivaMika feel free to jump to Chap 4 then come back to Chap 1***

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The air in the Underground was a familiar poison. Stale, heavy with damp, and laced with the faint stench of sewage that no amount of distance could escape. Levi inhaled sharply through his nose and exhaled through his mouth, as though he could force the memories out along with the stench. His boots scraped against the uneven stone, accompanied by the soft footfalls of his squad—Oluo, Furlan, and Petra.

Erwin's orders had been simple: recover a stolen document that could compromise the Survey Corps. It was supposed to have been an easy recovery, but leads had brought them here—down into the choking dark of Levi's old haunt.

They approached the supposed hideout, a sagging building that looked as though a strong gust would flatten it. Levi's expression betrayed nothing, but he scanned every corner, his instincts sharp as a blade.

"This the place?" Oluo whispered, his hand on the hilt of his sword.

Furlan nodded. "Matches the description. If they're here, they'll know we're coming."

Levi stepped forward, silent as a shadow, and nudged the door open with the tip of his boot. The hinges groaned, and the faint light of a single lantern revealed a cluttered interior. Maps and scraps of parchment were strewn across a wooden table, alongside a small pile of rickety chairs. The air inside was warmer, thick with the smell of earth and sweat, but eerily still.

"Empty," Petra said, her voice low.

"Stay alert." Levi's tone was cold, decisive. He stepped inside, his eyes sweeping the room, cataloging every detail—the exits, the layout, even the weight of the silence. Something wasn't right.

Then, the air shifted. A soundless warning. Levi turned, sharp as a whip, just as a figure dropped from above.

A hooded figure struck first, moving with startling speed. Mikasa's boot connected with Oluo's chest, sending him sprawling across the floor. Petra's blade was drawn in an instant, but Mikasa pivoted smoothly, disarming her with a calculated blow before delivering a sharp jab to her temple. Petra crumpled without a sound.

Levi stood motionless, his blade still sheathed, as the figure turned to him. She was taller than most women he'd seen, her stance coiled and lethal. Her face remained hidden beneath the hood, but he could see her eyes—sharp and deliberate.

She shifted into an offensive stance, muscles taut and ready to strike. Levi didn't bother moving, his posture almost bored.

Mikasa hesitated, her body coiled like a spring. Something about this man felt... different. He wasn't like the others—no wide-eyed nerves, no fumbling hands. The two soldiers he'd brought along had been skilled but predictable. This man, however, was an entirely different creature. He didn't posture or react; he simply existed, impossibly calm, his presence heavy and unshakable.

She could feel it—a weight, an authority in his stance that unnerved her. The way he held himself, the steady stillness in his eyes—it wasn't arrogance. It was certainty.

"Go ahead," Levi said, his voice low and steady, cutting through the silence like a blade. "See what happens."

It wasn't a taunt. It was a challenge.

Mikasa's grip on her knife tightened. The rational part of her brain screamed at her to stop, to think this through, but her instincts were louder. The urge to fight, to protect what was hers, drove her forward. She tensed, seconds from lunging—

The scuffling sound from the shadows shattered her focus.

Mikasa's head snapped toward the commotion just as three other soldiers emerged from the darkness, dragging Eren and Armin behind them.

Eren's struggling form was a blur of defiance, his voice rising in anger. "You better let us go, or I'll—"

"Shut up," Levi muttered, striding toward him. His tone wasn't raised, but it carried enough weight to silence even the most reckless fool.

Mikasa's heart dropped. "Eren..." she breathed, her voice barely audible.

Eren's fiery protests only grew louder as the soldiers shoved him forward. "Do you even know who you're messing with? I swear, when I—"

Levi didn't stop walking. He closed the distance in a heartbeat, his hand moving faster than Mikasa could react. The sharp crack of his fist connecting with Eren's gut echoed through the room.

Eren doubled over, gasping, but still managed to glare up at Levi. "You... bastard..." he wheezed.

"You'll learn to keep your mouth shut," Levi said, his tone detached, as though reprimanding an unruly child.

Mikasa's blood boiled. That was all she could take.

She moved before she could think, her anger fueling her speed. Silent as a shadow, she closed the gap between them, her knife raised in a precise arc aimed directly for Levi's side.

But he was faster.

Levi stepped aside with an almost lazy grace, his hand darting out to grab her wrist. Before Mikasa could twist free, she felt the cold kiss of steel against her throat.

Her breath hitched, and the room seemed to shrink.

The knife Levi held was small but sharp, its edge pressing just enough to let her know he wouldn't hesitate. His grip on her wrist was like iron, unyielding and impossibly strong.

"Reckless," Levi said, his voice calm, almost bored. His gray eyes locked onto hers, cool and unflinching. "You're good, but not good enough."

Mikasa's pulse thundered in her ears. Her free hand hovered near the hilt of her second knife, but she didn't move. She couldn't. His blade was steady, his grip unshakable.

Her glare burned into him, but Levi didn't so much as blink. His expression was cold, unreadable, yet there was something about the way he held himself—calculated, deliberate. He wasn't afraid of her. He wasn't afraid of anything.

They locked eyes, a silent battle waging between them.

Mikasa's instincts screamed to fight, to push him back and strike again, but her body refused to obey. She hated the stillness, hated the way her strength seemed to falter under the weight of his presence.

Levi's gaze didn't waver. "You have potential," he said finally, his voice quiet but firm. "But potential's useless if you don't know what you're doing."

Mikasa's jaw tightened, her pride bristling at his words.

"Let her go, Levi," Furlan's voice broke the moment, gentle but insistent.

Levi's eyes flicked toward Furlan for the briefest second before he released Mikasa's wrist and lowered the blade. She stepped back immediately, her hand instinctively going to her throat. The skin was unbroken, but she could still feel the phantom weight of his blade.

"Don't try that again," Levi said, turning his back to her as if the conversation were already over.

Mikasa stared at him, her chest heaving as she struggled to rein in her fury. This man... this man was unlike anyone she'd ever faced before. And she hated it.

Eren, still hunched over but recovering, gritted his teeth. "Who the hell does he think he is?"

"Levi," Armin muttered, his voice quiet but tinged with recognition.

Mikasa stiffened, her eyes narrowing. Levi.

For the first time, she looked at Levi not with anger, but with something else. Something darker.

Furlan broke the tension, stepping forward with his hands slightly raised in a gesture of calm. "Levi, wait. No one's getting anywhere like this."

Oluo, sprawled against the far wall, let out a pained groan as he rubbed his ribs. "Speak for yourself," he muttered, glaring at Mikasa.

Mikasa didn't budge. Her breathing was steady, her stance still tight and ready. Even with Levi's blade no longer pressed against her throat, she didn't trust him—or any of them. Her sharp eyes darted to the others in the room, assessing every movement, every potential threat.

Levi exhaled sharply, sheathing his blade with a practiced motion. "She's not going to give us what we're looking for," he said flatly, as if the entire situation bored him.

Petra, still cradling the side of her head, winced as she leaned against the table. "If that wasn't obvious already," she said, her voice strained but edged with dry humor.

"That's fine," one of the other soldiers growled, his hand twitching toward the hilt of his weapon. "We'll just force it out of them."

Mikasa's eyes flashed dangerously, her hands twitching toward her concealed knife. But before she could make a move, Furlan stepped squarely between her and the soldier.

"That won't help anyone," Furlan said firmly, his voice calm but unyielding. His steady gaze silenced the room. He turned slowly, addressing everyone—Mikasa, Armin, Eren, and his own squad. "Think about it. These three... they're strong. You saw what she did. This kind of strength doesn't belong down here in the dark. It's wasted here."

Mikasa's jaw tightened, her grip on the straps of her cloak firm enough to turn her knuckles white. "You don't know anything about us."

"I know enough," Furlan replied, meeting her defiant gaze. "I know you've been surviving in this hellhole when you could be out there making a difference. Fighting for something bigger than yourselves."

Armin shifted uncomfortably but couldn't hide the spark of curiosity in his wide eyes. "The Survey Corps?" he asked hesitantly, his voice tinged with both fear and hope. "You're talking about... outside the walls?"

Furlan nodded, his expression softening. "That's right. Beyond the walls. The sky. Freedom."

"Freedom?" Eren repeated, his anger dissipating as quickly as it had flared. For a moment, the fire in his eyes dimmed, replaced by something softer—something vulnerable. "You mean... we'd see it? The outside?"

"Yes," Furlan said simply.

Eren's shoulders relaxed, and his lips parted as if he were about to say more, but Mikasa cut him off. "No," she said sharply, her voice slicing through the room.

Eren and Armin turned to her, their expressions almost identical—pleading, confused, hopeful.

Mikasa stood firm, her eyes hard and unyielding. "We don't need them. We don't need any of this. We've been fine on our own."

"No, we haven't," Armin said quietly, his voice trembling.

Mikasa froze.

Armin swallowed hard and looked up at her, his blue eyes filled with a rare kind of desperation. "We've been surviving, Mikasa. But surviving isn't enough. I don't want to live the rest of my life down here, scraping by, always looking over our shoulders. Don't you want more than this?"

"Mikasa..." Eren's voice was quieter than usual, his usual bravado tempered by the weight of Armin's words. "He's right. We've been dreaming about this our whole lives. What if this is our chance?"

Mikasa's jaw tightened, her heart pounding in her chest. She wanted to say no, to dismiss their hopes as foolish. But the look in their eyes—the unshakable belief that this was their way out—made her falter.

"You're wasting yourselves here," Furlan said again, his tone softer now. He gestured to the crumbling walls around them. "This place will bury you if you let it. Out there... you'd have a chance to fight for something real."

Mikasa's eyes darted to Eren, then to Armin. Their faces were lit with a kind of wonder she hadn't seen in years. It was the same look they'd had as children, huddled together in the dark, whispering about a life they'd never known.

Reluctantly, Mikasa reached up and lowered her hood, revealing her face fully to the room for the first time. Her expression was hard, unyielding, but there was a flicker of something else—a crack in her armor.

"Fine," she said at last, her voice low and even. "But don't think for a second I trust you."

Furlan smiled faintly, relief washing over him. Levi, standing in the corner with his arms crossed, let out a short, humorless laugh.

"You don't have to trust me," Levi said, his gray eyes cold and sharp. "Just don't get in my way."

Mikasa's glare sharpened, but she said nothing.

Eren grinned despite himself. "This is it," he whispered, his voice trembling with anticipation. "We're finally going to see it." 

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For Mikasa, the brightness of the surface was overwhelming. After years of the Underground's dim, oppressive air, stepping into open space felt as though she were under attack—light clawed at her skin, and the sky above seemed too vast, too alien. She resisted the urge to shield her eyes, unwilling to show weakness in front of Levi and his group.

Eren, however, was utterly captivated. He stood frozen in place, his mouth slightly agape as he stared up at the endless expanse of blue. His usual fiery attitude was replaced with a rare moment of silence. The wind ruffled his hair, as if even the elements were welcoming him to a world he had only dreamed about.

"This... this is what it's like out here?" Eren's voice was hoarse, his disbelief evident. He turned to Armin, his expression almost childlike. "It's nothing like the stories. It's... better."

Armin, too, seemed lost in awe, his wide eyes tracing the line of the horizon. He gripped the straps of his worn satchel as though holding on for dear life. "No walls... no ceiling... it's so open." He spoke as if the words themselves were fragile, something sacred.

Mikasa remained silent. Her gaze, sharp and unyielding, never left Levi. He walked ahead of the group, his posture as stiff and unaffected as ever, as if the surface meant nothing to him. She hated that. Hated the way he carried himself, like he was above everything, including them.

He'd hit Eren. Hurt him without hesitation. And for what? Mikasa's grip tightened around the straps of her cloak, her knuckles whitening. If Levi noticed her simmering resentment, he gave no indication.

"You'll get used to it," Levi said suddenly, his voice cutting through the quiet.

Mikasa's eyes narrowed. "What makes you think I want to?"

Levi paused and turned his head slightly, his sharp gray eyes meeting hers. "Because the Underground isn't worth going back to. That much I know."

For a moment, Mikasa said nothing, her chest tightening at his words. He wasn't wrong, but hearing it from him felt like an insult. She glanced at Eren and Armin, who still stood frozen in wonder, and the knot in her chest loosened. They were safe—for now. That was all that mattered.

The journey back to the Survey Corps headquarters was a strange mix of tense silence and subdued chatter. Mikasa, Eren, and Armin rode in the back of a wagon, sandwiched between Furlan and Petra. Levi sat at the front, his hand loosely gripping the reins of the horse pulling them. Oluo followed on horseback, grumbling about his sore ribs from Mikasa's earlier kick.

Eren couldn't sit still. He kept leaning over the side of the wagon, craning his neck to see more of the outside world. "Look at that!" he exclaimed, pointing at a distant mountain range. "Are those... real? They're huge!"

Armin couldn't hide his excitement either. "They must be part of the northern range. I read about them once, but the Underground doesn't have anything like this. The books never did it justice..."

Mikasa, however, sat with her arms crossed, her gaze fixed on the back of Levi's head. Every now and then, her fingers brushed against the hilt of the knife tucked beneath her cloak. She wasn't stupid—she knew the Survey Corps was dangerous, but Levi? He was something else entirely.

"You've got quite the glare," Furlan said, breaking the tense silence. His voice was calm, almost amused, as though he found Mikasa's quiet intensity more intriguing than threatening. He leaned against the wagon's side, his faint smile disarming, yet his eyes remained sharp and calculating.

Mikasa didn't respond. She kept her gaze fixed forward, though the faint tightening of her jaw betrayed her simmering frustration.

"Don't take it personally," Furlan continued, the lightness in his tone unwavering. "Levi's not exactly... friendly. But he's good at what he does. You'll see."

"I don't care how good he is," Mikasa muttered, her voice low and clipped. Her fingers curled tightly around the edge of the wooden bench she was sitting on, her knuckles white. "He doesn't need to hit Eren."

Furlan chuckled softly, the sound warm but not mocking. "You're loyal. I can respect that." He paused, his gaze flicking briefly to Eren, who was still leaning over the wagon's edge, animatedly pointing out every detail of the landscape as though trying to memorize it. "But if you three stick around, you'll realize it's not just about you anymore. This world... it's bigger than anything you've seen. Bigger than the Underground."

Mikasa's grip loosened slightly, but her expression didn't change. She hated to admit it, but his words hit somewhere deep—somewhere she didn't want to acknowledge.

Eren turned abruptly, his eyes gleaming with a fierce determination that only he could summon so easily. "Then we'll fight for it," he said, his voice loud and certain, as though he were already addressing a battlefield. "We'll fight for all of it."

Mikasa sighed, already bracing herself for whatever trouble Eren's boldness would bring. She knew that look, the one that promised he'd throw himself into danger without a second thought.

"Don't just fight for it," Furlan said, his tone shifting to something more serious. He met Eren's fiery gaze. "Understand it. Protect it. If you don't know what you're fighting for, it's all pointless."

For a brief moment, Eren hesitated. He wasn't used to being challenged like that, especially not by someone who seemed so calm. His expression softened, but the fire in his eyes remained. "I'll understand it. I'll protect it. Whatever it takes."

Mikasa looked at him, her frustration melting into something quieter, something almost fond. She envied Eren's ability to hold onto his idealism, even in the face of reality. But that idealism was also why she knew she'd always be by his side—to protect him when it led him too far.

At the front of the wagon, Levi's sharp ears caught every word. He smirked faintly, though his posture remained as stiff and unyielding as ever. "Idiots," he muttered under his breath, his tone carrying a trace of amusement.

The wind carried his words to Mikasa, who shot a glare toward his back. Her fingers twitched toward her knife, the urge to respond immediate and instinctual. But she stopped herself. He wasn't worth it. Not yet.

Instead, she leaned back slightly, her posture rigid but her eyes softening as she glanced at Eren and Armin. Armin had started sketching something in the corner of a scrap notebook, his brow furrowed in concentration.

"Bigger than the Underground," Mikasa whispered to herself, her voice almost inaudible. She couldn't imagine it yet, but a part of her—a small, defiant part—wanted to believe it was true.

The wagon jolted slightly as they hit a rough patch in the road, and Eren grabbed the edge to steady himself. "We're gonna change everything," he said, his voice rising again. "You'll see, Mikasa."

Mikasa let out a long breath. "I'll hold you to that."

Furlan glanced between them, his smile returning. "You three are something else."

Levi, still perched at the reins, shook his head and muttered again. "Brats." His tone carried no amusement, only a quiet disdain, as if their enthusiasm was little more than a childish fantasy to him. He didn't bother looking back at them—he had seen their kind before, full of fire and empty of understanding.

To him, they were just another set of mouths to feed, another liability to manage. He was already calculating how long it would take for their idealism to shatter.

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The gates of the Survey Corps headquarters loomed ahead, their imposing size a stark contrast to the crumbling ruins of the Underground. Eren and Armin craned their necks to take in the towering walls and the orderly rows of soldiers patrolling the grounds.

The wagon rolled to a stop, and Levi dismounted with practiced ease. He barked an order, and the gate creaked open to reveal the sprawling courtyard beyond. Soldiers milled about, their uniforms crisp and their movements efficient.

Mikasa, stepping out of the wagon, felt a strange mix of unease and curiosity. She glanced at Eren and Armin, who looked like they'd just stepped into a dream.

"Get moving," Levi said curtly, gesturing for them to follow.

As they crossed the threshold into the Survey Corps' domain, Mikasa couldn't shake the feeling that their lives had just taken a turn they couldn't undo.

The courtyard was alive with motion. Soldiers marched in formation, their boots striking the stone with precision. Supplies were being unloaded from wagons and stacked with military efficiency, and recruits darted back and forth, their faces a mix of determination and exhaustion. The air carried the faint smell of sweat, leather, and steel—a world entirely unlike the Underground's musty, suffocating scent.

Mikasa's eyes darted across the scene, her instincts sharp. Everything here felt controlled, measured, as though the chaos she had grown up with had been carefully shaped into something functional. And yet, she couldn't shake the tension in her shoulders. The open space felt exposed, vulnerable. There were too many people, too many moving parts to predict.

"This is it..." Armin said, his voice barely above a whisper. His wide eyes took in every detail, from the towering walls to the disciplined soldiers. "The Survey Corps."

Eren was less reserved. His gaze swept over the courtyard with barely-contained excitement. "This is where they train? Where they plan missions? Where they go outside the walls?" He stepped forward eagerly, craning his neck as though he could already see the world beyond. "It's so much bigger than I thought."

Mikasa frowned, her unease growing with every step. "Stay close," she said, her voice low. She had no idea who to trust in this place, least of all Levi.

At the head of the group, Levi was already issuing clipped orders to the soldiers stationed at the gate. His presence commanded attention, and the recruits nearby straightened instinctively as he passed. He didn't need to bark commands to make himself heard—his quiet authority was enough.

"Furlan, get them settled," Levi said without turning. His tone left no room for argument. "I've got to report to Erwin."

Furlan nodded and gestured for the trio to follow. "Come on. Let's get you situated."

As they walked through the courtyard, Mikasa caught snippets of conversations—mentions of Titan sightings, upcoming expeditions, and whispered rumors about the recruits who didn't come back. Her stomach tightened. She wasn't sure what she had expected, but the weight of reality was heavier than she'd anticipated.

Armin, on the other hand, looked like he'd stepped into one of the books he used to pore over as a child. His eyes darted from the training dummies to the rows of blades gleaming in the sunlight. "This is incredible," he murmured, almost to himself.

Eren's enthusiasm was more vocal. "Do they let everyone go outside the walls? How soon can we start training? Is it true they've killed Titans with just one strike?" His questions spilled out in a rush, his voice rising with each one.

"Relax, kid," Furlan said with a chuckle. "You're not even recruits yet."

Eren bristled. "Not yet. But I will be. I'll be the best soldier this place has ever seen."

Furlan smirked, but there was no mockery in it. "We'll see."

Mikasa's gaze flicked to Levi, who was already disappearing into a nearby building, his posture rigid and purposeful. A strange tension settled in her chest. She didn't like how easily he had brushed them off, as though they were nothing more than an inconvenience.

"Do you think he's reporting us?" Armin asked, his voice tinged with worry.

"Probably," Mikasa muttered, her jaw tightening. "But I don't care what he tells them."

Furlan led the trio across the courtyard, weaving through the bustle of soldiers and cadets. The modest building at the edge of the grounds wasn't imposing, but it stood out with its well-maintained exterior. Mikasa's sharp eyes scanned the surroundings, taking in every detail. She hated the openness of the space, the constant motion around her.

Inside, the barracks were sparse but clean—wooden floors, rows of neatly made bunks, and a faint smell of soap and polished wood. It was a far cry from the filth of the Underground, but the unfamiliar cleanliness made her wary.

"This'll be your space for now," Furlan said, gesturing to the bunks. "It's not much, but it beats the Underground."

Armin ran a hand along one of the beds, his expression thoughtful. "It's... nice," he said quietly. "Different."

Eren flopped onto a bed with a grin, his boots dangling off the edge. "This is nothing. Just wait—soon we'll have rooms in the Commander's quarters."

Mikasa crossed her arms, her expression hard. "Don't get ahead of yourself, Eren."

Furlan leaned against the doorframe, his gaze steady. "You'll have to earn your place here. No one's going to hand it to you. The Cadet Corps doesn't care where you came from—only if you can make it."

Eren sat up, his grin fading into something more serious. "Then we'll earn it. All of it."

Furlan's gaze lingered on him for a moment before shifting to Mikasa. "You'll need to keep him out of trouble," he said lightly, though his words carried weight.

Mikasa didn't respond, but her jaw tightened. She would keep Eren and Armin safe, no matter what it took. They were all she had left, and she wouldn't let anyone—or anything—take them away from her.

Furlan straightened and gestured toward the doorway. "Listen up. The three of you are part of the 104th Cadet Corps now. You'll be training with recruits from all over for the next six months—combat, survival, Titan knowledge, the whole deal. At the end, the top 10 cadets get to choose their branch."

"Top 10?" Armin asked, his voice quieter, tinged with apprehension.

"That's right," Furlan said. "The Garrison, the Military Police Brigade, or the Survey Corps." He glanced meaningfully at Eren. "Though considering who found you, I'd say the Survey Corps is the obvious choice."

Eren's eyes lit up. "I'm joining the Survey Corps. No question."

Mikasa narrowed her eyes. "You don't even know what the other branches do yet."

"I don't need to!" Eren shot back, his excitement unshaken. "Captain Levi's in the Survey Corps, right? That's all I need to know."

Furlan raised an eyebrow but smirked faintly. "You've taken a liking to him already? Brave choice."

Before Eren could reply, a loud, excited voice broke through the tension.

"There you are!"

A red-haired girl burst into the room, grinning ear to ear. Her energy filled the space instantly as she bounded toward Furlan and threw an arm around his shoulders.

"What took you so long, huh? I was starting to think you'd gotten lost," she teased.

Furlan groaned. "Isabel..."

The girl—Isabel—ignored him entirely and turned to the trio, her grin widening. "Hey! New blood, huh? I'm Isabel Magnolia. Nice to meet you!" She gave a mock salute, her enthusiasm practically spilling over.

Armin blinked, slightly taken aback by her energy, while Eren gave her a curious look. Mikasa, however, simply stared.

There was something about Isabel's wild, carefree manner that unsettled her. The way her hair framed her face, the glint in her eyes—it was faint, but it reminded her of someone.

Her little sister.

The thought hit Mikasa like a blow to the chest. She tightened her grip on the strap of her cloak, shoving the memory aside before it could surface.

Isabel, oblivious, continued talking. "So you're the ones Levi dragged in, huh? Don't worry, he's always grumpy like that. He's just got a weird way of showing he cares—well, maybe not cares, but, you know—doesn't completely hate you. Probably."

"Isabel," Furlan interrupted, his tone half amused, half exasperated. "Focus."

"Oh, right! So, who's where?" She looked between the three, then pointed at Eren and Armin. "You two will be in the boys' barracks over here. And you—" She pointed at Mikasa. "You're with me in the girls' dorm. Lucky you!"

Mikasa's lips pressed into a thin line. The idea of being separated from Eren and Armin didn't sit well with her. They had always been together—through everything. But she understood. This was different.

"Fine," she said shortly.

Isabel didn't seem to notice the tension. "Come on! I'll show you where it is. It's way better than this place." She grabbed Mikasa's arm without hesitation, practically dragging her toward the door.

Furlan shook his head but smiled faintly. "She's... a lot," he said to Eren and Armin. "But she means well."

As Isabel pulled Mikasa outside, her voice chattering away about the dorm's layout and all the trouble she'd caused there, Mikasa couldn't help but feel an odd mix of annoyance and unease.

She reminded Mikasa of her sister. Not completely, not enough to say it aloud—but enough to sting.

And Mikasa hated that.

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In the Commander's office, Levi stood before Erwin, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. The room was quiet, save for the faint scratching of Erwin's pen against parchment and the occasional creak of the old wooden chair beneath him.

"So?" Erwin asked, not bothering to look up. "What did you think?"

"They're raw," Levi said flatly. "Reckless, stubborn, and full of themselves."

Erwin's pen paused mid-stroke. "And?"

Levi exhaled sharply through his nose, the sound carrying his barely-contained annoyance. "They'll either get themselves killed or figure out how to survive. Either way, they're not my problem."

Erwin finally set his pen down and leaned back in his chair, his piercing blue eyes meeting Levi's. There was no hint of argument in his expression, only calm certainty. "They are now."

Levi's jaw tightened, his gray eyes narrowing slightly. "Of course they are," he muttered under his breath.

"They've been placed with the 104th Cadet Corps," Erwin continued. "That gives them six months to prove themselves before the graduation assessment."

"Six months?" Levi scoffed. "That's generous. Most brats like them wouldn't last six days."

Erwin raised an eyebrow. "Most brats don't have Ackerman blood," he pointed out.

Levi stilled for a fraction of a second, his expression unreadable. "Ackerman?"

"Mikasa," Erwin clarified. "She's part of the Ackerman family. One of the few left, it seems."

Levi's expression didn't change, though something flickered behind his eyes. "And that's supposed to mean something?"

"It means potential," Erwin said. "Strength, resilience, instincts—traits humanity desperately needs."

Levi rolled his eyes. "Great. So she's special because of her blood. That doesn't mean she knows what to do with it."

Erwin didn't respond immediately, but there was something in his gaze—a quiet weight that hinted at more. Levi caught it, but he didn't push.

"She's not just an Ackerman," Erwin said finally, his voice measured. "She's been through more than most soldiers twice her age. You read the reports."

"I read enough," Levi said sharply, cutting him off. He didn't need the details; he already knew what it felt like to survive hell. "Doesn't change the fact that she's reckless. She fights like she's got nothing left to lose. That gets you killed."

"Or makes you stronger," Erwin countered.

Levi didn't reply, though his grip on his arms tightened.

"And the boys?" Erwin pressed, smoothly shifting the subject.

Levi hesitated. Eren's fiery determination had stood out, though Levi couldn't decide if it was admirable or irritating. Armin, on the other hand, had been quieter, more observant. His mind worked in ways Levi had recognized but couldn't yet evaluate. "The loud one—Eren—he's going to get himself killed trying to act like a hero. And the other one... he's smart. Too smart, maybe. He thinks too much. That'll get him killed just as fast."

"Yet you brought them here," Erwin said, leaning forward slightly.

"I didn't have a choice," Levi snapped, though his tone lacked heat. "You wanted them. I delivered."

Erwin studied him for a moment, his expression unreadable. "And you see no potential in them?"

Levi's lips pressed into a thin line. His silence stretched just long enough for Erwin's faint smile to return.

"They'll need work," Levi muttered, relenting. "A lot of it."

"They'll have it," Erwin replied evenly. "From the best."

Levi's eyes narrowed. "Don't even think about assigning them to me, Erwin."

The Commander's smile widened slightly, though it didn't reach his eyes. "You've already started, haven't you?"

Levi didn't respond. His mind flashed back to Mikasa's unflinching stare, the fire in Eren's voice, and the quiet determination in Armin's expression. He had seen recruits like them before—fiery, naive, and brimming with untamed potential. Most didn't last long. But there was something about these three, something he couldn't quite name.

"Her parents," Erwin said quietly, almost as an afterthought. "Her sister. Everything she's lost. You know what that does to a person, Levi."

Levi's jaw clenched. He didn't need the reminder.

"You're not going to let them fail," Erwin said softly, breaking Levi's thoughts.

Levi's gaze flicked to the window, his jaw tight. The three of them weren't his problem. Not yet.

"I'll keep them alive," he said at last. "If they prove they're worth it."

Erwin nodded, his smile fading into a more somber expression. "That's all I ask."

Chapter Text

***Some light-hearted funny moments among the cadet corps. This is supposed to be solely for humor and lay groundwork for team bonding among Mikasa, Eren, Armin and the other cadets. If you want RivaMika, skip to Chap 4 then you can come back here :)***

****************************

The scent of freshly baked bread and stew wafted through the air as Mikasa, Eren, and Armin stepped into the dining hall. The place was alive with energy—laughter, clinking plates, and the occasional thud of someone smacking a friend on the back too hard. Long wooden tables stretched across the room, packed with cadets shoving food into their mouths like they'd never see another meal.

It took less than a second for heads to turn.

"Who's that?" whispered a boy at the far end of the hall, his spoon hovering mid-air.

"New recruits?" another muttered, leaning over their plate to get a better look.

"No way. Did we get royalty?"

But most of the attention wasn't on Eren or Armin. It was on Mikasa.

"Is that... an angel?" a dreamy voice murmured from the corner.

"Shut up, man," his friend hissed, elbowing him. "You're staring."

Eren bristled, his eyes darting around the room. "What the hell are they looking at?"

Armin's shoulders hunched slightly, his voice a mix of embarrassment and resignation. "Eren... it's Mikasa."

Mikasa, oblivious to the attention, scanned the hall with a calm, unreadable expression, as though she were planning an escape route.

Jean Kirstein was not so calm. His tray slipped from his hands, clattering onto the table as he caught sight of Mikasa. "She's..." His jaw worked silently for a moment before he cleared his throat and straightened his posture. "I mean, yeah, whatever. No big deal," he said, but the bright flush crawling up his neck betrayed him.

"Jean, you're drooling," Marco teased, elbowing him lightly.

"Shut up, Marco!" Jean snapped, grabbing his tray and holding it like a shield.

The whispers rippled across the hall, growing louder until a loud, muffled voice broke through.

"New blood!"

Everyone turned toward Sasha, who was halfway through stuffing a roll into her mouth. She waved enthusiastically, her cheeks puffed out like a chipmunk.

Connie leaned back in his seat, smirking. "You can't just yell that, Sasha. They'll think you're trying to eat them."

Sasha swallowed audibly and grinned. "Who says I'm not?"

Keith Shadis stormed into the hall, his boots echoing like thunder against the floor. The chatter stopped instantly, as though someone had flipped a switch.

"QUIET!" His voice cut through the air like a blade, and the room fell into a tense silence. Even Sasha froze, a half-eaten bread roll hovering near her mouth.

"These three," Shadis barked, pointing at Mikasa, Eren, and Armin as though they'd personally offended him, "are joining your sorry ranks as late additions. They'll be training alongside you from now on. Do you know what that means?"

No one dared to answer.

"It means," Shadis continued, his voice rising to a thunderous roar, "if I see even a speck of undisciplined behavior, I'll have you scrubbing the latrines until the smell becomes your new perfume! Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, sir!" the room chorused, some cadets visibly trembling.

Shadis's piercing glare swept over them one last time before he turned and stomped out, muttering something about "brats who wouldn't last five minutes against a Titan."

As the door slammed shut, the room held its collective breath for a moment before erupting back into noise.

Sasha waved the trio over again, her voice loud and enthusiastic. "Come sit with us!"

Eren hesitated, eyeing the crowded table. "Are they always this... loud?"

"Loud?" Connie asked, overhearing. He leaned back and gestured grandly to the table. "This is the best seat in the house. We've got Sasha, the bread thief; Jean, the wannabe hero; and me, the charming comic relief."

Jean rolled his eyes. "At least I have dignity."

"Dignity?" Connie shot back. "You've been staring at Mikasa like she's the last Titan-free patch of land on the planet."

Jean sputtered, his face flushing red. "I wasn't staring!"

"You were totally staring," Sasha said, tearing off another piece of bread.

"Welcome to the chaos," Marco said with a grin as Mikasa, Eren, and Armin sat down.

Mikasa raised an eyebrow at the group's antics but said nothing, her calm demeanor unshaken.

"Chaos is putting it mildly," Armin murmured, looking slightly overwhelmed.

Eren, however, had already squared his shoulders, ready to throw himself into the fray.

The trio barely had a chance to settle before Jean slid in from the other side.

"So," Jean said, leaning toward Mikasa, his tone carefully casual. "Where're you from? I mean, it's obvious you're... different. In a good way."

Eren's brow furrowed, and he shoved his tray forward, nearly spilling water. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Jean didn't even look at him. "Relax, kid. I'm just being polite."

"I'm not a kid!" Eren snapped.

Armin sighed, rubbing his temple.

Mikasa ignored both of them, calmly eating her soup.

Jean smirked. "You're awfully quiet, Mikasa. Maybe you'd like someone to show you around camp later? Someone who knows the ropes?"

"She doesn't need that," Eren growled, his voice rising. "I'll show her around."

Jean snorted. "You? Please. You'd probably get her lost."

The tension snapped like a rope pulled too tight. Eren lunged across the table, and Jean met him halfway, their foreheads colliding as they shouted over each other.

"Get your stupid head out of my face!"

"Why don't you make me?"

Mikasa sighed, pulling them apart effortlessly by the collars of their shirts. "Stop it," she said firmly, her tone low enough to make them both sit down immediately.

Connie whistled. "She's scary."

"She's incredible," Jean muttered under his breath, earning another glare from Eren.

Sasha grinned, tearing off another piece of bread. "This is gonna be fun."

****************************

"Move, maggots!" Shadis roared, his voice reverberating across the training grounds. The cadets were halfway through their third lap around the field, their boots pounding against the dirt like they were trying to outrun death itself.

"Faster! Do you think Titans are going to wait for you to catch your breath? Move like your lives depend on it, because one day, they will!" Shadis stormed along the side of the track, his glare sharp enough to cut through steel and his voice a weapon that made even the dirt vibrate.

Further back, Connie was already wheezing, his face a deep shade of red as he tried to keep pace with Sasha, who was sprinting ahead like she had stolen something—again.

"What's wrong with you?" Connie gasped, nearly tripping over his own feet. "Are you being chased by Titans, or is it just hunger?"

"Both!" Sasha yelled back, not even slowing down. Her grin widened as she pushed herself harder. "If I win, I'm treating myself to an extra loaf tonight!"

Connie groaned loudly, nearly tripping over a loose rock. "We don't even get extra bread!"

"We will when I steal it," Sasha quipped, her laughter ringing out as she bolted forward.

"Why am I even friends with you?" Connie muttered, shaking his head but unable to suppress a small grin.

At the front of the pack, Mikasa was effortlessly maintaining the lead, her breathing steady and calm, her stride measured and graceful. It was as if the grueling pace was child's play to her.

"Of course she's good at this," Jean muttered from a few paces behind her, glaring at Eren as they ran side by side. His voice dripped with annoyance. "She's good at everything. It's ridiculous."

"Then stop talking and run faster," Eren shot back, his expression determined as he pulled ahead. His eyes darted toward Mikasa, a competitive spark flaring. "I'm catching up to her."

Jean scoffed, gritting his teeth as he tried to keep pace. "Show-off. You're not catching up to her—you're barely catching your breath!"

"Better than running my mouth like you," Eren snapped, pushing himself harder.

Jean rolled his eyes but kept running. "Try not to collapse, Eren. I don't want to be the one explaining to Shadis why you passed out again."

"Again?!" Eren turned to glare at him, nearly tripping in the process.

Armin, several paces behind them, waved weakly as they passed him. "You're... both doing great!" he managed to call out between labored breaths.

Near the back of the pack, Sasha's enthusiasm wasn't as contagious as she thought. "Connie! Sasha! If you don't pick up the pace, you'll be cleaning Titan crap for a week!" Shadis barked, his voice cracking like a whip.

Connie slowed just enough to mutter, "I'd rather do that than run another lap."

"What was that?!" Shadis roared, spinning toward him like an angry storm cloud ready to strike.

Connie's eyes widened in pure panic, and he took off like his life depended on it. "Nothing, sir! Running, sir!"

"Move faster, Springer, or I'll make you wish Titans were chasing you!" Shadis's booming voice sent a chill down Connie's spine, and he surged forward, somehow managing to overtake Sasha in his blind panic.

"See? I motivated you!" Sasha shouted, laughing as Connie sprinted ahead of her with all the grace of a startled goat.

"Yeah, yeah," Connie muttered between gasps, but his eyes darted nervously back toward Shadis. "I think I can feel his glare on the back of my head."

"Don't look back!" Sasha teased, her grin as wide as ever. "That's when they get you!"

Not far behind, Armin was doing his best to survive, his legs feeling like wet noodles as he dragged himself forward.

"I think... my legs are broken," Armin wheezed, clutching his side. "Is that possible? Can you break both legs from running?"

"Your legs aren't broken, Armin," Connie called back, still running. "You're just weak."

"Helpful," Armin muttered under his breath, his face red as he forced himself forward.

"Arlert!" Shadis's voice thundered, making Armin flinch so hard he nearly tripped. "If you don't pick up the pace, I'll personally carry you—and drop you in the mud as an example!"

"Yes, sir!" Armin squeaked, his feet suddenly moving faster, though his face was a mask of sheer terror.

Connie glanced back at him and smirked. "See? Shadis is good for motivation."

"Motivation?!" Armin gasped, his voice cracking. "This is more like impending doom!"

"You're alive, aren't you?" Connie teased, jogging backward briefly to grin at him.

"Barely!" Armin shot back, his legs wobbling dangerously.

Ahead, Sasha called out, "You can do it, Armin! Think of all the books you'll get to read after this!"

Armin's eyes lit up briefly, but the distraction nearly sent him stumbling into a patch of loose dirt. He flailed wildly, barely keeping himself upright. "I don't think I'll live long enough to read them!"

At the end of the lap, Shadis waited for the last of the cadets to drag themselves across the finish line. His arms were crossed, and his eyes glinted with barely-contained fury.

"You call that running?!" he barked, his voice like a thunderclap. "I've seen toddlers move faster than you pathetic excuses for soldiers!"

Sasha beamed at him. "Thank you, sir!"

"That wasn't a compliment, Blouse!" Shadis snapped, his glare shifting to her. "Drop and give me twenty push-ups for that smug look on your face!"

"Yes, sir!" Sasha chirped, immediately dropping into the dirt with an enthusiasm that made Connie gape.

"She's insane," Connie muttered, shaking his head.

"Springer!" Shadis roared, turning to him. "If you're standing there with enough energy to talk, you can give me twenty push-ups, too!"

Connie groaned loudly but dropped into the dirt beside Sasha. "This is all your fault," he grumbled under his breath.

"Quiet, Springer!" Shadis barked.

From the finish line, Mikasa watched the chaos unfold, her expression unreadable. Next to her, Jean bent over with his hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath.

"Are they always like this?" Mikasa asked.

Jean glanced up and sighed. "Unfortunately, yes."

****************************

The lap finally ended, and the cadets dragged themselves to the next station: the obstacle course. It stretched before them like something out of a nightmare—a gauntlet of towering walls, thick ropes, and muddy trenches that promised nothing but pain and humiliation.

"This," Shadis declared, his voice a low growl, "is where I separate the soldiers from the slugs. If you can't make it through this course, don't bother showing up tomorrow! Titans won't wait for you to climb a wall, and neither will I!"

His piercing glare swept over the exhausted cadets, daring anyone to show a flicker of hesitation.

Armin's stomach churned as he stared at the towering obstacles ahead. The walls looked impossibly high, the trenches unnervingly deep, and the ropes swayed ominously in the breeze. "Is it just me, or does this look... impossible?" he whispered, his voice trembling.

Connie smirked, leaning closer. "It's not impossible. It's just designed to make us hate our lives."

Before Armin could respond, the whistle blew, and chaos erupted.

Sasha immediately dove headfirst into the first trench like a wild animal returning to its burrow. She emerged seconds later, drenched from head to toe but grinning like she'd just discovered buried treasure. "This is great training! Feels like I'm one with the earth!" she declared, mud dripping from her hair.

"Or like you're rolling in it," Connie quipped, carefully lowering himself into the trench to avoid the same fate. Unfortunately, his cautious approach didn't save him—his foot slipped, and he landed with a loud squelch. "Great. Now I smell like Titan crap."

"Nothing new for you," Sasha teased, already sprinting ahead.

Meanwhile, Mikasa scaled the rope wall with an effortless grace that made the entire exercise look laughably easy. She reached the top before anyone else had made it halfway, pausing briefly to glance down at the chaos below.

"You're holding the rope wrong," she called calmly to Eren, who was gritting his teeth and struggling to climb.

"I don't need advice!" Eren snapped, his determination blazing as he pulled himself upward.

Below him, Jean stood with his arms crossed, a smug smirk plastered on his face. "Looks like you're struggling, Eren. Need a hand?"

"I'll show you struggling!" Eren shouted, scrambling faster to prove a point. Unfortunately, his grip slipped, and he slid halfway back down the rope, cursing loudly.

Jean's laughter echoed across the field. "Nice technique."

"You wanna say that to my face?" Eren yelled, dangling precariously from the rope.

"Sure," Jean quipped. "When you can actually reach the top."

Armin, meanwhile, approached the first trench with all the enthusiasm of someone being marched to their doom. The mud looked deeper than he'd expected, and he hesitated at the edge, his heart sinking.

"What are you waiting for, Armin?" Connie called, already halfway through the trench. "It's just mud!"

"Just mud?" Armin repeated, staring at the trench like it was a Titan's mouth. "Do you have any idea what could be in there? Rocks? Bugs? Parasites? Who knows how deep it goes!"

"Arlert!" Shadis barked, his voice booming like thunder. "If you don't get in that trench right now, I'll personally throw you in!"

"Yes, sir!" Armin yelped, reluctantly lowering himself into the mud.

He took one cautious step forward—and immediately sank waist-deep. The cold, sticky sludge clung to him like it had a personal vendetta.

"Help!" Armin cried, flailing as he tried to free himself. "I'm stuck!"

"Pull yourself out!" Shadis yelled, storming over like an angry Titan. "Do I need to dig you out with my boot?"

"I can't!" Armin wailed, his arms flapping helplessly.

Connie doubled back, laughing so hard he nearly tripped into the trench himself. "Don't worry, Armin, I've got you!" he said, grabbing Armin's arm for a dramatic rescue attempt.

Instead of freeing him, Connie lost his balance, and they both toppled backward into the mud with a loud splat.

"Great teamwork," Sasha called, already sprinting ahead with two sandbags slung over her shoulders. "You're really inspiring the troops!"

Shadis's glare could have melted steel. "Get out of my trench!" he thundered. "If you're still in there when I come back, you'll wish Titans were the least of your problems!"

Connie scrambled out of the trench, dragging a thoroughly miserable Armin behind him. "See? We made it," Connie said cheerfully, patting Armin's shoulder.

Armin glanced down at his mud-covered uniform and sighed. "I look like I've already been eaten by a Titan."

"Yeah, but at least you're alive," Connie said, his grin widening as he smeared even more mud on Armin's arm.

"I hate this," Armin muttered, trudging toward the next obstacle with all the energy of a wet noodle.

Across the field, Shadis's patience was wearing thin. He stormed up and down the obstacle course like an enraged bull, barking orders and insults at every cadet who dared to look even slightly unmotivated. His glare could curdle milk, and his booming voice made birds scatter from nearby trees.

"What are you doing, Braun?!" Shadis bellowed at Reiner, who was currently trying to shove Bertolt over a muddy incline with the determination of someone pushing a boulder uphill.

"Helping Bertolt, sir!" Reiner replied, his tone steady despite the mud streaked across his face.

Shadis's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Do I look like I care about teamwork?! This isn't a friendship exercise, Braun! Titans don't care about your feelings! MOVE YOUR ASS!"

"Yes, sir!" Reiner heaved Bertolt forward with a grunt, sending his lanky friend sprawling over the top of the incline.

"Thanks, Reiner," Bertolt wheezed, flopping onto his back like a dying fish.

"Get up, Hoover!" Shadis thundered, pointing an accusatory finger. "Titans aren't going to politely wait while you nap in the mud! If you want to lie down, I'll dig your grave for you!"

"Yes, sir!" Bertolt scrambled to his feet, nearly slipping again as he tried to climb down the other side of the incline.

Further back, Sasha was attempting to carry not one, but two sandbags through the course, her face red with effort and her teeth gritted in determination. "More weight means better training!" she declared, her voice straining with each step.

"More weight means you're slowing everyone down!" Shadis barked, stomping toward her like a thundercloud. "Drop one or I'll add a third, Blouse! Do you hear me?! A THIRD!"

Sasha hesitated for a moment, then yelled, "Yes, sir!" and somehow managed to keep running without dropping either sandbag.

Connie, dragging himself through yet another trench nearby, peeked over the edge and groaned. "At least she's enthusiastic. I just want to survive."

Shadis's sharp ears caught the muttered comment, and he turned his laser-focused glare onto Connie. "Survive?! SURVIVE?!" His voice rose to a roar that made nearby cadets flinch. "Springer, you look like you'd faint at the sight of a Titan! You want to survive? MOVE FASTER, OR I'LL MAKE YOU RUN ANOTHER TEN LAPS!"

"Yes, sir!" Connie yelped, his pace doubling instantly as he scrambled out of the trench, slipping and sliding like a newborn deer.

"Keep going, Connie!" Sasha called from ahead, her grin widening despite her obvious exhaustion. "You're doing great!"

"Shut up, Sasha!" Connie yelled back, his face red—not from exertion, but from sheer frustration.

Shadis's glare shifted back to Sasha. "Blouse! If you don't drop that second sandbag in the next five seconds, I'll strap it to Springer and make him carry it for the rest of the day!"

"No need, sir!" Sasha chirped, finally tossing the second bag aside as she sprinted ahead. "It was slowing me down anyway!"

"Smartass!" Shadis roared after her, but the faintest twitch of amusement crossed his face as he turned to find his next victim.

****************************

Nearby, Jean was trying—and failing—to climb the rope wall. His fingers slipped repeatedly as he muttered curses under his breath, glaring at the cadet in front of him who was making it look easy.

"Nice of you to join us, Kirstein!" Shadis barked, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "You planning to climb that wall today, or are you waiting for it to lower itself out of pity?!"

"I'm climbing, sir!" Jean snapped, gritting his teeth as he tried again. His grip faltered almost immediately, and he slid back down, landing with a thud.

"Looks more like falling than climbing!" Shadis shot back. "Do you think Titans care if you're tired? They'll eat you, Kirstein! They'll eat your lazy ass whole!"

Nearby, Mikasa was already at the top of the wall, watching Jean's struggle with a calm, unreadable expression. She climbed down just as effortlessly, landing lightly on her feet before moving to the next obstacle.

Jean glared after her. "Of course she's perfect," he muttered under his breath, earning a glare from Shadis.

"Perfect?!" Shadis repeated, his voice rising. "PERFECT?! Ackerman doesn't waste time whining about walls! She climbs them! Learn something, Kirstein, or I'll make you run this course again and again until you grow a spine!"

"Yes, sir!" Jean groaned, his face red as he tried—and failed—not to look at Mikasa again.

Meanwhile, Eren was halfway up the rope wall, his fingers slipping dangerously. "I can do this," he muttered to himself, his voice a mix of frustration and determination. "I'm not giving up—"

"Careful, Eren!" Jean called from below, smirking. "Wouldn't want you to fall and embarrass yourself. Again."

"Shut up, Jean!" Eren snapped, glaring down at him and nearly losing his grip in the process.

Jean's smirk widened. "What was that? I couldn't hear you over the sound of your struggling!"

"I'll show you struggling!" Eren yelled, scrambling faster—but his foot slipped, and he slid halfway back down the rope, cursing loudly.

Jean burst into laughter. "Nice technique!"

"Say that to my face!" Eren yelled back, dangling precariously.

"I will," Jean quipped, crossing his arms. "When you're not dangling like a Titan's chew toy."

At the end of the course, Shadis stood with his arms crossed, surveying the muddy, exhausted, and thoroughly miserable cadets with barely-contained disdain. He barked at the group, "You call that effort? I've seen farm animals work harder than you sorry excuses for soldiers!"

He stormed over to Armin, who was slumped against a sandbag, his face streaked with mud and his hair plastered to his forehead. "Arlert! Are you sleeping on my course?!"

Armin jolted upright, his voice cracking as he yelped, "No, sir! Just... resting my eyes, sir!"

"Resting your eyes?! If I wanted soldiers who needed naps, I'd recruit babies! Get up and MOVE!"

"Yes, sir!" Armin scrambled to his feet, tripping slightly as he darted toward the next obstacle.

Shadis shook his head in disgust before turning his gaze to Connie, who was bent over, hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath. "Springer, do you need an engraved invitation to keep moving?!"

"No, sir!" Connie gasped, straightening immediately.

"Good!" Shadis barked. "Because if I see you dragging your ass again, I'll personally carry you through this course—and I promise, you won't like it!"

Connie gulped. "Yes, sir!" he squeaked, sprinting forward with newfound energy as Sasha cheered him on.

By the end of the course, most of the cadets were a mess—muddy, exhausted, and barely upright. Mikasa, however, stood at the finish line, looking as composed as she had at the start. Her uniform wasn't even wrinkled.

Jean collapsed onto his knees, panting heavily as he glared at her. "She's not human," he muttered. "She's some kind of Titan-proof machine."

Eren staggered across the finish line moments later, his hair plastered to his forehead with sweat. "Of course she's fine," he grumbled. "She's Mikasa."

Shadis approached, his expression unreadable as he surveyed the cadets. "Pathetic," he muttered, though his gaze lingered on Mikasa for a fraction longer. "Except for you, Ackerman. You might actually survive out there."

Mikasa said nothing, her face calm as always. But a flicker of pride crossed her eyes.

"Now, back to the field! Laps until I say stop!" Shadis roared.

The collective groan of the cadets echoed across the training grounds, but no one dared to protest—not even Connie.

****************************

Eren was locked in a sparring match with Annie, sweat dripping down his brow as he tried, and failed, to land a hit. Annie's movements were fluid, almost lazy, as she sidestepped his strikes with minimal effort. Her cold gaze never wavered, and a faint smirk tugged at the corners of her lips.

"Come on, Eren," Annie drawled, her voice calm but mocking. "Is that all you've got?"

Eren gritted his teeth, lunging forward with a frustrated yell. Annie effortlessly caught his arm, twisting it behind his back and sweeping his legs out from under him. Eren hit the dirt with a loud thud, groaning as Annie locked him in a chokehold.

"Too easy," Annie muttered, tightening her grip slightly.

Nearby, Mikasa was sparring with Reiner, her movements sharp and precise. Despite Reiner's size and strength, he was struggling to keep up, his broad swings missing their mark as Mikasa dodged and countered with swift, calculated strikes. But her focus snapped away the moment she saw Annie pinning Eren to the ground.

"Let go of him," Mikasa said coldly, her voice cutting through the noise.

Annie glanced up, her icy blue eyes meeting Mikasa's. She didn't release Eren. If anything, her grip tightened.

"He's fine," Annie said dismissively, her tone calm but defiant. "He needs to learn."

Eren squirmed beneath her. "I'm fine, Mikasa! Don't—"

But Mikasa was already moving.

With a quick twist, she threw Reiner over her shoulder like he weighed nothing. The larger cadet crashed into the ground with a heavy thud—directly onto Eren. The force of the impact knocked the air out of both boys.

"Hey!" Reiner groaned, rolling off Eren and clutching his ribs. "What the hell, Mikasa?"

Eren coughed, trying to sit up. "Reiner, you're heavy—"

Before he could finish, Mikasa had already closed the distance to Annie, her dark eyes blazing. "Why don't you show me those moves?" Mikasa challenged, her tone low and dangerous.

Annie stood slowly, brushing dirt from her uniform. Her gaze was sharp, calculating, as she looked Mikasa up and down. "I don't know," she said, her lips curling into a faint smirk. "Do you think they'd work on monsters?"

The insult hung in the air for a moment, charged with tension. Cadets nearby stopped sparring, their eyes darting between Mikasa and Annie. Even Shadis paused his yelling to watch the confrontation unfold.

Mikasa didn't respond verbally. She lunged.

Annie barely dodged the first strike, stepping back as Mikasa's fist cut through the air where her face had been. Annie countered with a low kick aimed at Mikasa's legs, but Mikasa leapt over it with effortless grace, her movements as fluid as water.

Annie's smirk faltered as Mikasa pressed her attack. The two clashed in a flurry of blows, their speed and precision leaving the watching cadets awestruck. Annie was strong and skilled, her kicks deadly and her counters sharp. But Mikasa was relentless. Every strike Annie blocked was followed by another, faster and more precise than the last.

Annie tried to sweep Mikasa's legs again, but Mikasa anticipated it, stepping inside Annie's guard and delivering a lightning-fast elbow strike to her ribs. Annie staggered back, her breath hitching.

"She's insane," Connie whispered to Sasha, who nodded mutely, her mouth hanging open.

Annie quickly recovered, her expression hardening. She lunged forward, aiming to grab Mikasa's arm and throw her off balance. But Mikasa twisted at the last second, slipping out of Annie's grasp and countering with a spinning kick that forced Annie to retreat.

"She's not just strong," Jean muttered, his eyes wide. "She's... terrifying."

The fight continued, each combatant pushing the other to their limits. Annie managed to lock one of Mikasa's arms and attempted to sweep her into a takedown. For a split second, it seemed like Annie had the upper hand.

But Mikasa countered with raw strength, breaking free of Annie's hold and flipping her over her shoulder. Annie hit the ground hard, the impact sending up a cloud of dust. Mikasa wasted no time, pinning Annie to the dirt with her knee pressed firmly against her chest.

The field was dead silent.

Mikasa's dark eyes bored into Annie's, her breathing steady despite the intense fight. "Still think your moves would work?" she asked quietly, her voice devoid of malice but heavy with authority.

Annie's gaze lingered on Mikasa, her lips curving into the faintest smirk despite her position. "Not bad."

Mikasa didn't respond. She stood smoothly, brushing the dust from her uniform before extending a hand to Annie.

Annie hesitated for a moment before accepting it, allowing Mikasa to pull her to her feet. Her expression was unreadable, but there was a spark of respect in her eyes.

The cadets watching erupted into whispers, their voices buzzing with awe.

"Did you see that?"

"She just destroyed Annie."

"Who is Mikasa?"

Shadis finally stepped forward, his face unreadable as he surveyed the scene. "Enough gawking!" he barked. "You're here to train, not to stare like idiots! Back to work before I have you running laps until sunset!"

The cadets scattered, though the awe in their expressions lingered. Eren was still sitting on the ground, rubbing his neck where Annie's chokehold had left a red mark.

"Are you okay?" Mikasa asked, crouching beside him.

Eren grinned sheepishly. "I'm fine. Thanks for... whatever that was." He glanced at Reiner, who was still lying nearby. "And sorry about Reiner."

Reiner groaned. "I'm going to feel that tomorrow."

Mikasa ignored him, her gaze flicking back to Annie, who was walking away without a word.

Sasha leaned toward Connie and whispered, "Do you think Mikasa's secretly a Titan?"

Connie nodded seriously. "Absolutely."

****************************

The boys' barracks that night was alive with noise, laughter, and the kind of chaos only exhaustion could amplify. Jean and Eren, as usual, were at the center of it, their voices rising in a familiar argument.

"I'm telling you, I hit that target dead-on during maneuver gear training!" Jean said, his tone inching closer to a shout. "Everyone saw it!"

"Yeah, after your first five misses," Eren fired back, leaning across his bunk. "If that Titan had been real, you'd be dead already."

Jean stood up, jabbing a finger in Eren's direction. "Oh, because you're so much better? At least I don't need Mikasa to save my ass every time I sneeze wrong"

Eren's face flushed red, and his fists clenched. "Say that again, Jean!"

Connie, sprawled on his bunk like he owned the place, interrupted with a dramatic sigh. "Ah, love is in the air."

Both Eren and Jean turned to glare at him in unison. "Shut up, Connie!"

Unfazed, Connie grinned. "Come on, we all know this is just unresolved romantic tension. You two should just hold hands and be done with it."

Marco, ever the voice of reason. "Come on, guys. We're supposed to be teammates. Save the energy for training tomorrow."

"Training tomorrow," Connie echoed dramatically, collapsing onto his bed with a groan. "Can we just skip to the part where Titans don't exist anymore?"

"You’re all idiots," Armin muttered from the corner, his nose buried in a notebook. "If Shadis hears this, he’s going to make us run laps until we puke."

"Or," Reiner said with a chuckle, reclining on his bunk, "he’s waiting outside right now, just biding his time."

Bertolt nodded solemnly. "He does that, you know."

The thought sent a ripple of unease through the group, and Connie glanced nervously at the door. "You think he’s really out there?"

Jean rolled his eyes. "Don’t be stupid. Shadis doesn’t have the patience to lurk around like a creep."

"Yeah," Eren added. "He’d kick the door in and yell something about how we’re all disgraceful excuses for soldiers."

The room quieted as the conversation began to shift, laughter giving way to softer voices and heavier thoughts. Reiner's tone was the first to change.

"You know," he said, sitting up slightly, "back home, my mom used to work herself to the bone. Sometimes, she wouldn't eat just so I could have enough. I used to tell her I'd join the military and make her proud." He paused, his voice quieter. "I just hope she thinks it's worth it."

The laughter faded completely, and the group fell into a thoughtful silence.

Bertolt nodded, his gaze fixed on the floor. "My dad used to fish for hours, even in the rain. Sometimes, he wouldn't come back until it was pitch black, but he always brought something home. He made sure we never went to bed hungry."

Armin, who had been listening quietly, closed his notebook and looked up. "My grandparents used to read to me every night. They'd tell me stories about the surface—about how the world was bigger than the walls. I guess that's why I'm here. I want to see if it's possible to have that kind of life again."

Eren, sitting on the edge of his bunk, spoke next. His voice was quieter than usual, but the intensity in his tone was unmistakable. "My mom used to tell me that we weren't meant to live like this—trapped behind walls, always afraid. She believed we could fight back, that we could take back what the Titans stole from us." His fists clenched, his knuckles whitening. "That's why I'm here. To prove her right."

The weight of his words hung in the air for a moment, heavy but shared.

Connie, ever the mood-lifter, threw himself backward onto his bunk with an exaggerated sigh. "Man, this got serious fast. Someone tell a joke before I start crying."

Jean smirked, pointing at Eren. "The joke's right there."

Eren's head snapped up. "Say that again, Jean!"

He lunged toward Jean, who scrambled away, knocking over a chair in the process.

The door burst open with a deafening BANG.

“WHAT IN THE NAME OF HUMANITY’S FUTURE IS THIS NOISE?!”

Nobody answered. Nobody moved. Connie, thinking quickly, flopped onto his side with a loud, exaggerated snore. Reiner followed suit, leaning back and letting out the fakest wheezing breath anyone had ever heard.

One by one, the others scrambled into "sleeping" positions. Marco slumped onto his bunk with his arm over his face, Bertolt curled into a ball, and Armin dropped his notebook and snuggled into it like it was a pillow.

Jean and Eren were the last ones standing, frozen mid-argument like deer caught in torchlight. Without breaking eye contact, they both dove for their bunks, flinging themselves down with dramatic flair.

Shadis prowled into the room like a wolf among sheep, his glare sweeping over the recruits. He stopped at Connie, who was snoring loud enough to raise the dead. His eyes narrowed.

"Is this one broken?" Shadis growled, leaning closer.

Reiner, next to him, let out a loud, accidental PFFT.

Bertolt, unfortunately positioned right behind him, bolted upright with a gasp, his face twisted in horror. "Reiner!"

The sudden movement startled Connie, who flailed wildly and smacked his head against the bunk above him with a loud THUNK. Eren, bolted upright in reflex, accidentally knocking over Jean’s chair.

"WHAT THE HELL, EREN?"

Shadis’s eye twitched violently as the room descended into chaos, recruits tripping over each other in a desperate attempt to fix the mess.

He inhaled deeply, his glare sharp enough to cut steel. "You are," he said slowly, "the most pathetic collection of soldiers I have ever had the misfortune of training."

His eyes narrowed as he bent down, picking up the offending sock like it was a piece of toxic waste. “Whose sock is this?”

No one spoke. The sock dangled ominously.

“WHO. OWNS. THIS. SOCK?” Shadis thundered, shaking it for emphasis.

Connie’s mouth twitched to make a joke, but he stopped himself.

Shadis, shoving the sock into Marco’s hands, “Congratulations, Marco,” he said darkly. “You’re now the Keeper of the Sock. May it bring you shame.”

Marco saluted with wide, terrified eyes, clutching the sock like it might explode.

“Ten seconds,” Shadis growled, “TEN SECONDS to fix this disaster, or I swear to whatever gods you believe in, you’ll be running until your bones turn to dust."

Chaos erupted as recruits scrambled to obey. Beds were straightened, pillows fluffed, and fallen chairs returned to their rightful places.

Shadis’s gaze lingered on each of them, his lip curling slightly. “Pathetic,” he muttered, shaking his head. “If Titans saw this, they’d choke on you.”

With that, he stormed out, slamming the door behind him. The silence stretched for a beat, two beats—then Connie collapsed onto his bunk with a dramatic groan, “pretty sure he’s going to haunt us when he dies.”

****************************

The girls' barracks, while quieter than the boys', had its own rhythm of energy. Krista and Ymir were nestled on one bunk, leaning against the wall as Ymir teased Krista with her trademark grin.

"You're too good for this place," Ymir said, nudging Krista with her shoulder. "Admit it—you're a princess in disguise."

"I'm not," Krista replied, her cheeks flushing as she laughed softly. "I'm just... normal."

"Normal? Please." Ymir leaned closer, her grin widening. "You're about as normal as Mikasa over there."

At the mention of her name, Mikasa glanced up from her bunk, where she was meticulously polishing her blades. She raised an eyebrow but didn't respond.

"What's it like being a walking legend?" Ymir pressed, smirking.

Mikasa's gaze flicked to her briefly before she returned to her task. "I don't know," Mikasa replied without looking up. "What's it like being annoying?"

Krista burst out laughing, and Ymir let out a chuckle. "Fair enough," Ymir said, raising her hands in mock surrender.

Across the room, Sasha was hunched over a stash of bread she'd smuggled in, carefully tearing it into pieces. She leaned over and handed a piece to Mikasa. "Here," Sasha said, her voice cheerful. "You saved my butt during training today. You deserve it."

Mikasa accepted the bread with a small nod. "Thank you."

Ymir raised an eyebrow. "Why do I never get bread?"

"Because you don't save me during training," Sasha replied matter-of-factly.

Krista giggled as Ymir clutched her chest dramatically. "I'll remember this betrayal, Sasha. Don't come crying to me when you need backup."

"Backup for what?" Sasha asked through a mouthful of bread. "Running faster than you?"

Ymir opened her mouth to retort but was cut off by Annie's flat voice from her corner of the room. "You're all loud," she said, not looking up as she continued sharpening her knife.

Sasha turned to her with her usual grin, unfazed. "Want some bread, Annie?" She held out a piece like it was a peace offering.

"No," Annie replied flatly, not even glancing in Sasha's direction.

"Suit yourself," Sasha said, popping the piece into her mouth and chewing loudly.

The banter continued for a few more minutes, with Ymir teasing Sasha about her bottomless appetite and Krista trying (and failing) to mediate. But as the conversation lulled, the energy in the room shifted. The laughter softened, and the gaps between words grew longer. It started when Sasha leaned back on her bunk with a sigh.

"You know," Sasha said, staring at the ceiling, "sometimes I miss home. The forest. The way the air smelled right after it rained. I'd give anything to run through the trees again." Her voice was quieter now, tinged with nostalgia.

Krista nodded, her expression thoughtful. "I know what you mean. Back on the farm, things were... simple. Hard work, sure, but it felt good. Real."

Ymir tilted her head, watching Krista closely. "You never talk about the farm much," she said, her voice softer than usual.

Krista hesitated, her hands fidgeting in her lap. "There's not much to say. It was... peaceful. At least until I left."

Ymir's gaze lingered on her for a moment before she smirked. "Figures you'd be the one who actually misses chores."

The light joke earned a small laugh, but it didn't fully dissipate the weight in the air. Krista glanced over at Mikasa, who had been silently listening. "What about you, Mikasa? Do you miss home?"

Mikasa paused, her hand stilling on the blade she was polishing. She didn't answer right away, her gaze fixed on a point in the distance. "I don't really have a home to miss," she said finally, her voice calm but heavy. "My parents were killed when I was young. I lived with Eren and Armin in the underground since then... they're my family now. I'll do anything to protect them."

The room fell silent at her words. Even Ymir, usually quick with a quip, didn't say anything. The weight of Mikasa's statement settled over them, grounding the moment in shared understanding.

Krista's voice broke the silence, quiet but steady. "I think we all understand what it's like to lose something. Or someone."

"Yeah," Sasha murmured, her usual cheer subdued. "It's why we're all here, isn't it? To make sure we don't lose anything else?"

"Even Annie?" Krista asked with a small smile, glancing at the blonde girl, who had been silent the entire time.

Annie looked up from her knife, her expression unreadable. "I don't care why anyone else is here," she said, her tone flat but not harsh. "I just know I'm going to survive."

"Well, that's one thing we can agree on," Ymir said, smirking. "We're all going to survive."

Sasha grinned, the mood lifting slightly. "Good. Because someone's going to have to carry me through the next obstacle course."

The girls laughed, the camaraderie returning as they began to settle into their bunks. The noise faded into a gentle hum as the lights dimmed, and the room grew quiet.

For now, they were safe. Together.

****************************

It was a rare day of reprieve. Training had been grueling all week, and the cadets had been given the evening to rest and recover. For most, that meant catching up on sleep or tending to aching muscles. For a select few, however, it was the perfect opportunity to test the limits of their boundaries—and their luck.

"I'm bored," Jean declared, leaning against the barracks wall and tossing a small rock between his hands. "What's the point of a night off if we're stuck here?"

"You mean stuck in a perfectly safe compound with no Titans trying to kill us?" Marco replied, his tone dry. "Sounds terrible."

Jean ignored him, his gaze shifting to the distant outline of the town beyond the camp walls. "We could go there. Just for a little while. It's not like anyone would notice."

Eren, sprawled out on his bunk, snorted. "Yeah, because sneaking out never ends badly."

"I'm serious!" Jean shot back, his voice lowering to a conspiratorial whisper. "Think about it—real food, no Shadis yelling at us, maybe even some normal people for once."

"Normal people who would probably turn us in the second they realized we're cadets," Armin pointed out, his voice tinged with nervousness. "It's a terrible idea."

"That's what makes it fun," Connie chimed in, his grin widening. "Come on, Armin, live a little."

Eren sat up, his expression caught between skepticism and intrigue. "You really think we can pull this off?"

Jean grinned, already seeing their small rebellion as a done deal. "Of course. I've got a foolproof plan."

Mikasa, sitting quietly in the corner sharpening her blade, finally spoke. "Your plans are never foolproof."

Jean rolled his eyes. "Fine. Then it's idiot-proof, which is perfect for this group."

"I'm in!" Sasha piped up, already stuffing a roll of bread into her pocket.

Eren sighed. "Why does that not surprise me?"

Mikasa looked between them all, her expression unreadable. "If you're going to do this, you'd better not get caught."

"Relax," Jean said with a smug grin. "Stick with me, and everything will go smoothly."

The cadets' first attempt to sneak into town was doomed from the start, though no one wanted to admit it.

"We'll be back before anyone notices," Jean whispered, crouched low as he led the group through the shadows.

"Jean, you said that five minutes ago," Armin hissed, glancing nervously over his shoulder. "And we're still inside the compound."

"Details," Jean shot back. "I've got it all under control."

"Famous last words," Connie muttered, earning a stifled laugh from Sasha, who was juggling three stolen bread rolls she insisted on bringing as "emergency supplies."

"Why are you even holding bread?" Eren whispered harshly. "It's a sneak-out, not a picnic!"

"You don't know that," Sasha replied earnestly. "What if we get lost and starve?"

"We're sneaking into town, not crossing the desert!" Eren growled, his frustration mounting.

Mikasa, as always, trailed silently behind, her sharp eyes scanning their surroundings. She didn't usually indulge in reckless ideas like this, but she'd promised herself to stay close to Eren and Armin—no matter how stupid their plans were.

"Quiet," she said flatly, her voice cutting through the hushed bickering. "You're all loud enough to wake the whole camp."

"She's right," Marco agreed, his voice low but firm. "We need to focus if we're going to pull this off."

Jean smirked, clearly enjoying his role as the "leader." "See? Marco gets it. Now, follow my lead, and—"

"Why are we following you, anyway?" Connie interrupted, his grin widening. "I'm just saying, out of everyone here, you have the worst track record in training."

Jean spun around, his voice rising despite himself. "Oh, I'm sorry, Connie! Didn't realize you had a better plan!"

"Yeah, it's called not getting caught," Connie shot back, his tone dripping with mockery.

"Would you two shut up?" Mikasa hissed. "You're going to—"

"Who's out there?!" a gruff voice called from the distance.

The group froze, their collective panic palpable. Sasha clutched her bread rolls like they were life preservers. "This is it," she whispered. "We're dead."

"Relax," Jean whispered back, though his voice cracked slightly. "They probably didn't see us."

"Probably?" Armin squeaked. "That's not comforting!"

Before anyone could argue, the unmistakable sound of boots on gravel reached their ears. A spotlight swung across the yard, sweeping dangerously close to their hiding spot.

"RUN!" Jean yelled, all pretenses of stealth abandoned as he bolted for the nearest fence.

The group scattered like startled pigeons, their poorly-planned formation falling apart instantly. Armin tripped over his own feet, barely catching himself on a crate. "This is a terrible idea!" Jean shouted, scrambling after the others.

"It was your idea!" Eren yelled back, ducking under the beam of the spotlight.

"GET BACK HERE, YOU LITTLE SHITS!" Shadis's voice boomed through the night like the roar of an angry Titan.

Sasha let out a scream, clutching her bread as she sprinted after Connie. "Why is he so fast?!"

"He's not fast, you're just slow!" Connie shouted over his shoulder, though the terror in his voice undermined his bravado.

Mikasa, still eerily calm, grabbed Armin by the collar and yanked him forward. "Move," she said simply, dragging him along as he flailed.

Jean reached the fence first, gripping the top rail as he tried to climb over. "Come on, come on—"

But before he could finish, his foot slipped, and he fell flat on his back with a loud thud. "Ow," he groaned, staring up at the stars.

"Great job, fearless leader!" Connie shouted as he vaulted over the fence with surprising agility. "Real inspiring!"

"I hate you," Jean muttered, rolling to his feet just as Eren and Sasha reached the fence.

Behind them, the sound of Shadis's boots grew louder, accompanied by his unrelenting yelling. "YOU THINK YOU CAN OUTRUN ME?! I'LL MAKE YOU REGRET THE DAY YOU WERE BORN!"

"I already do!" Armin wailed as Mikasa practically tossed him over the fence.

Eren shoved Jean forward, his voice frantic. "Move, horse-face! He's right behind us!"

"I'm moving, you Titan-bait!" Jean snapped, scrambling up the fence as fast as he could.

Sasha, clutching her bread rolls with one hand, struggled to climb with the other. "Someone help me! I can't—"

Mikasa, with the patience of a saint, grabbed Sasha by the back of her jacket and hoisted her over the fence with minimal effort. "Stop eating and use both hands next time," she said flatly.

By the time the group landed on the other side of the fence, panting and disheveled, Shadis's voice was still ringing in their ears. "YOU BETTER PRAY I DON'T FIND YOU!"

"We're so dead," Marco gasped, bending over to catch his breath.

"Not if we stick to the plan," Jean said, trying to regain his composure.

"What plan?!" Eren snapped. "We've been running in circles for ten minutes!"

"Guys," Armin whispered, his face pale. "Where's Connie?"

The group froze, glancing around wildly.

"Did we lose him?!" Sasha asked, her voice rising in panic. "We left him behind! We're monsters!"

"Relax," came Connie's voice from above. They looked up to find him perched on the branch of a nearby tree, grinning like an idiot. "I climbed up when I saw Shadis coming. Figured he wouldn't think to look up."

"Get down before you break something," Mikasa said, pinching the bridge of her nose.

"I'm good up here, thanks," Connie replied. "You guys go ahead. I'll wait it out."

"Suit yourself," Jean said, turning to lead the group further into the shadows. "Let's just hope he doesn't—"

A loud snap cut him off as the branch beneath Connie gave way, sending him tumbling to the ground with a yelp. The group burst into laughter, even Mikasa cracking a faint smile as Connie groaned from the dirt.

"I hate all of you," Connie muttered, brushing himself off.

"Then stop making it so easy," Sasha said, offering him a piece of bread.

The group eventually made it back to the barracks, exhausted but somehow exhilarated. Even as they braced for whatever punishment awaited them in the morning, they couldn't help but laugh at the sheer chaos of their failed adventure.

And though none of them would admit it, they'd do it all again in a heartbeat.

****************************

Through shared meals, relentless training, and stolen moments of humor, the cadets began to forge bonds. Mikasa remained at the top of every drill, earning respect and a bit of fear from her peers. Eren's determination clashed with Jean's ego at every turn, while Sasha and Connie turned every mundane moment into chaos.

The days were grueling, the nights often filled with whispered conversations and quiet laughter. And as the weeks passed, the cadets began to feel less like strangers and more like something stronger.

Chapter Text

Eren collapsed as his Titan form dissipated, steam rising like smoke from a dying fire. Mikasa dropped to her knees beside him, her hands gripping his jacket. "Eren," she called, her voice low but firm. No response.

"We have to move him," Armin said, his voice shaking as his gaze darted to the chaos around them. The ground quaked under the weight of approaching Titans.

Mikasa stood, drawing her blades. "I'll handle them," she said, stepping in front of Armin and Eren. Her body screamed with exhaustion, her muscles sluggish after hours of fighting. But her stance was steady, her resolve unshakable.

The Titans charged, their grotesque forms breaking through the smoke. Mikasa's grip tightened, her legs bracing to strike—only for the air to split with a sharp hiss.

Steel flashed. Blood sprayed.

In a blur, the Titans fell, their napes severed with precision too perfect to comprehend. Mikasa froze, her eyes scanning for the source. Through the clearing steam, a figure landed lightly before them.

Levi.

His maneuver gear hissed as the wires retracted, his blades dripping with Titan blood. His expression was unreadable—calm, almost bored, as if the chaos was beneath him. He gave them a once-over, his gray eyes lingering a fraction longer on Mikasa. "You're alive," he remarked flatly.

Mikasa nodded, her grip on her blades loosening slightly. "Captain Levi," she acknowledged, keeping her tone neutral.

"Fantastic," Levi said dryly, glancing at the unconscious Eren. "The kid's out cold. How predictable."

"Can you cover us?" Armin asked, struggling to keep his voice steady as he adjusted Eren's weight. "We can't move fast with him like this."

Levi didn't answer. His gaze flicked back to the battlefield, where more Titans emerged from the smoke. Without a word, he launched himself into the fray.

It was like watching an artist at work.

Levi's movements were impossibly fast, a blur of wires and steel. He darted between the Titans with surgical precision, every swing of his blades clean and deliberate. One Titan swiped at him, its massive hand tearing through the air, but Levi twisted mid-flight, his wires pulling taut as he looped around its arm. In a single fluid motion, he severed its nape.

Another Titan lunged, jaws wide. Levi darted through its teeth like water slipping through cracks, cutting its nape before it even realized he was there. Each kill was methodical, efficient, leaving no room for error.

Armin watched, stunned. "How is he... that fast?" he whispered.

Mikasa's eyes followed Levi, her grip tightening on her blades. She had fought beside skilled soldiers, but Levi was different. He didn't just kill Titans—he dismantled them with precision so sharp it felt untouchable.

Levi landed lightly on a Titan's shoulder before springing off, severing another nape mid-air. When the last Titan fell, he turned back to them, steam rising from the corpses around him.

"What are you waiting for?" Levi called, his tone sharp but even. "Move."

Mikasa snapped out of her trance. She and Armin hoisted Eren between them, following Levi's lead as he guided them toward the inner gate.

As they reached the safer interior of Trost, Levi slowed, letting them catch up. He cast a glance back, his gaze settling on Mikasa. For a brief moment, something flickered in his expression—not quite recognition, not quite curiosity, but as quickly as it came, it was gone.

"Not bad, Ackerman," he said, his voice quieter now.

As they moved, Mikasa couldn't shake the feeling of his gaze on her. It wasn't intrusive, but it lingered long enough to make her wonder. Had he seen her fighting earlier? Why had he lingered on her?

****************************

***Fast forward to after Eren's hearing in the court, levi beating the shit out of him and Eren joining the Special Operations Squad. Mikasa, Eren, Armin, Sasha, Connie, Jean, Bertolt, Reiner, Ymir, Krista and others graduate and join Survey Corps under Levi's command***

Levi stood in Erwin's office, his arms crossed tightly over his chest, his face set in a deep scowl. Erwin, as composed as ever, leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled under his chin.

"You want me to babysit cadets," Levi said flatly, his tone dripping with disdain.

"Not babysit," Erwin corrected, his voice calm and measured. "Train. Guide. Turn them into soldiers."

Levi snorted, his eyes narrowing. "They're fresh out of the Cadet Corps. Half of them probably still cry at night when they think about Titans. The other half will die the first time they're thrown into a real fight."

"That's why I'm putting them under you," Erwin said, leaning forward slightly. "If anyone can shape them into soldiers, it's you."

"I'm not a damn teacher," Levi snapped. "That's Hange's idea of fun, not mine."

Erwin raised an eyebrow. "You're not a teacher, but you're the best soldier we have. And they don't need lectures—they need someone who can show them what it takes to survive. You've already proven you can lead a squad."

"That was different," Levi said, his voice quieter but still firm. "Petra, Eld, Oluo—they weren't green recruits. They knew what they were doing. This lot?" He gestured to the files with a flick of his wrist. "They're just kids."

"So were you," Erwin said quietly.

The words hit like a knife to the gut. Levi's scowl deepened, but he didn't respond. He hated when Erwin did this—turning every argument back on him with infuriating logic.

"Let me guess," Levi said, his tone sarcastic. "This is about the brat. The Titan shifter."

"Eren Yeager is part of it, yes," Erwin admitted. "But it's more than that."

Levi raised an eyebrow, waiting for an explanation.

"This group," Erwin continued, gesturing to the files spread across his desk, "has potential. They've already proven themselves during the breach at Trost. Mikasa Ackerman, for instance—her combat skills might even rival yours."

Levi scoffed. "No one rivals me."

Erwin allowed himself a faint smile. "She's good, Levi. And she's fiercely loyal—to both Eren and Armin. Keeping them together ensures their safety—and gives us a chance to see just how far that loyalty goes."

"And the rest of them?" Levi asked, nodding toward the stack of files. "A pack of loudmouths and idiots from what I've seen."

"Reiner Braun and Bertolt Hoover have shown leadership potential. Jean Kirstein has the makings of a tactician, despite his attitude. Armin Arlert—he's not just intelligent, he's a strategist in the making. Sasha Blouse and Connie Springer might seem like fools, but they're adaptable and resourceful. Ymir and Krista Lenz bring their own strengths, though I suspect they'll require... finesse."

Levi didn't reply, his expression skeptical.

"I'm not asking you to coddle them," Erwin continued. "But I trust your judgment. You'll know what to do with them."

Levi exhaled, running a hand through his dark hair. "And what about your Special Operations Squad? Petra, Oluo, Eld, Gunther, Furlan, Isabel—am I supposed to split my time between these brats and the soldiers who actually know what they're doing?"

"They'll remain with you," Erwin said. "They're an extension of your leadership. Think of them as reinforcement."

Levi scoffed again, his tone bitter. "More mouths to feed. More people to bury."

After a pause, Erwin continued, "they've survived this long on talent and luck. If they're going to survive the next step, they need discipline. They need to learn what it means to fight and survive in the real world. You can teach them that."

Levi's eyes flicked back to the files, his gaze scanning the names and faces. He let out a frustrated sigh. "And if they die?"

"Then we'll have given them the best chance possible," Erwin said quietly. "But I don't think they will. Not under your command."

The room fell silent for a long moment, the tension thick enough to cut with a blade.

"Fine," Levi said at last, his voice low and grudging. "I'll take them. But don't expect miracles."

"I don't need miracles," Erwin said with a faint smile. "I just need them alive."

****************************

The group stood in a loose, uneven line within the Survey Corps meeting hall, the air thick with tension. Mikasa, Eren, Armin, Sasha, Connie, Jean, Bertolt, Reiner, Ymir, and Krista exchanged uncertain glances, their unease palpable. At the front of the room, Levi leaned casually against a table, his gray eyes scanning the recruits with a mix of scrutiny and disdain.

Behind him, his elite squad—Petra, Oluo, Eld, Gunther, Furlan, and Isabel—watched with varying expressions. Isabel's green eyes darted between the recruits, her lips twitching like she was holding back a laugh. Furlan, standing beside her, nudged her gently as if to say, Not now.

Levi let the silence drag, the weight of his presence pressing down on the room. When he finally spoke, his voice was calm but cold, each word cutting like a blade.

"So, this is the batch Erwin handed me." He straightened, crossing his arms as his gaze swept over the recruits. "A pack of half-baked cadets barely out of training. Lucky me."

Eren's fists clenched instinctively, his lips parting to argue, but Levi's glare pinned him in place. "We survived Trost—"

"Shut it, Jaeger," Levi said flatly, his tone brooking no argument. "I don't need your opinions. I already know you're useless. You've got Titan powers, but no brains to back them up. If I had a coin for every idiot with 'potential,' I'd own this damn place."

Eren flushed but stayed silent, his jaw tight.

Levi's gaze shifted to Mikasa, lingering for a fraction of a second longer than necessary. Her stance was steady, her expression unreadable, but something about her presence irked him—a defiance she wasn't even trying to hide.

"Ackerman," he said, his tone quieter but no less cutting. "Don't think you've got some edge over the rest of them just because you survived the Underground. Living in the filth down there might've made you tough, but it didn't prepare you for this."

Mikasa's dark eyes met his, her jaw tightening. "With all due respect, Captain," she began, her voice calm but firm, "we survived Trost and Underground because we worked together. And we'll continue to do so."

The room froze.

Connie's jaw dropped, his head swiveling between Mikasa and Levi like he was watching a death sentence unfold. Jean's eyes widened, his lips parting in disbelief.

Sasha froze mid-chew, the half-hidden bread in her hand forgotten.

"Is that so?" Levi pushed off the table, stepping closer to her, towering over her, his posture casual but his words sharp as a blade. His tone dropped lower, more dangerous. "Surviving the Underground is one thing. But Titans don't play by the same rules as thugs and scum in the slums. Titans don't negotiate. They don't take bribes. They don't flinch when you swing your blades. You're not fighting people anymore, Ackerman. You're fighting things that exist for the sole purpose of crushing you."

Mikasa held his gaze, her fists tightening at her sides. "We're not ignorant of the stakes, Captain."

Levi raised an eyebrow, his voice deliberate. "No? Then tell me, what's the worst thing you've seen so far? Some thief holding a knife to your throat? Some corrupt merchant demanding payment you didn't have? I've seen soldiers far more skilled than you, with years of experience, torn apart because they thought they understood what they were up against. You're not any different."

The tension between them was palpable, the room so silent that the faint creak of the floorboards beneath Levi's boots sounded deafening. Isabel's eyes went wide, her mouth forming a silent whoa. Furlan shifted, glancing at Levi as though expecting him to explode.

Levi's lips twitched in what might've been the ghost of a smirk first, though his voice remained icy. "Fire burns out quickly when it's wasted."

The air between them crackled with tension. Mikasa held his gaze, her jaw tightening, but she didn't respond. For a moment, it looked like she might argue, but Levi's unflinching stare warned her otherwise. He tilted his head slightly, almost as if daring her to speak.

Mikasa's jaw tightened, but she didn't look away. "Understood, Captain."

Levi studied her for a moment longer. "Good," he said finally, stepping back. His gaze swept over the group again, landing on Eren and Armin.

"And that goes for you two as well," he said, his tone colder.

Armin nodded quickly, his face pale but resolute. Eren, however, remained tense, his fists clenched at his sides.

From somewhere down the line, Jean cleared his throat awkwardly. "Uh, sir—"

Levi's gaze snapped to him like a whip, and Jean immediately regretted speaking.

"Kirstein," Levi said, his tone dripping with mockery. "The mouthy one. Let me guess—you think you're a leader?"

Jean straightened instinctively, his face reddening. "I—no, sir."

Levi raised an eyebrow. "Good. Because the only thing you're leading right now is a charge to the nearest grave."

Jean's mouth opened and closed uselessly, his attempts at a response drowned out by Connie's barely stifled laughter.

Levi turned on Connie next, his gaze narrowing. "You find something funny, Springer?"

Connie froze, his grin faltering. "Uh, no, sir. Absolutely not."

"Good," Levi said curtly. "Because if you're still laughing when a Titan's about to grab you, I'll assume you've volunteered to distract it for the rest of us."

"And Blouse," Levi said with a weary sigh. "I hope you're not planning to smuggle snacks while we're out there. I'm not in the habit of dragging corpses back to camp because someone decided bread was more important than breathing."

Sasha's eyes widened in horror. "Of course not, sir!" she squeaked, frantically shoving the half-eaten potato behind her back.

"Brilliant cover-up," Levi muttered.

His gray eyes swept across them again, pausing on Eren, then Armin, and finally Mikasa. "And make no mistake. If any of you step out of line, I'll be the one cleaning up your mess—and I don't mean with a mop."

Oluo, standing behind him, smirked. "Ah, the Captain's motivational speeches. Truly inspiring."

"Shut it, Oluo," Petra hissed, elbowing him.

Levi ignored them, focusing once again on the recruits. "Listen up. Erwin thinks there's something worth saving in you lot. I'm not so sure. But since I've been saddled with this mess, here's how it's going to work." He stepped forward, his gaze sweeping the room. "Tomorrow, at first light, we move to the old Survey Corps headquarters. It's isolated, which means fewer distractions—and fewer places for you to embarrass me."

"Why the old headquarters?" Armin asked cautiously, his voice barely above a whisper.

Levi's gaze flicked to him, and Armin shrank back slightly. "Because I said so," Levi replied simply. "And because we've got experiments to run. Real work. You'll find out soon enough."

"Experiments?" Eren echoed, his brow furrowing.

Levi ignored the question. "Any other brilliant questions?" Levi snapped, his voice cutting through the room. When no one answered, he nodded curtly.

"Dismissed," he barked. "Get out of my sight."

The recruits began to file out, muttering amongst themselves. Isabel whispered to Furlan, her voice low but laced with amusement. "I like her," she said, nodding toward Mikasa. "She doesn't back down. Did you see how she glared at him?!"

"She'll need that gutsiness," Furlan replied, his eyes following Levi's. "He's not going to make this easy on them—or her."

The door clicked shut, leaving Levi alone with his squad. He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "This is going to be a disaster," he muttered.

Petra stepped forward, smiling faintly. "You say that about every new recruit."

"And I'm always right," Levi shot back, though there was a flicker of something else in his tone—almost like anticipation.

Jean caught up to Mikasa as they walked down the hallway, his expression incredulous. "What the hell were you thinking?"

Mikasa didn't look at him, her voice steady. "Standing my ground."

"You're either fearless or stupid," Jean muttered, glancing over his shoulder nervously. "Probably both."

Mikasa's lips pressed into a thin line, her dark eyes forward. "If he can't handle a little pushback, he shouldn't be barking orders."

From further down the hall, Sasha nudged Connie. "I thought she was about to get decapitated."

Connie snorted, glancing back nervously as if Levi might materialize behind them. "Me too. He's scarier than Titans. Did you see the way he looked at her? Like he was deciding which window to throw her out of."

Sasha shivered dramatically. "I don't think anyone's talked back to him like that."

Armin, who had been quietly trailing behind the group, finally spoke up. "Captain's harsh, but he's not unreasonable. He's testing us—figuring out what we're made of."

Jean scoffed, "testing us? That wasn't a test. That was an execution with words."

Krista, who had been walking alongside Ymir, chimed in softly, "I think he's just... different. He doesn't trust us yet."

Ymir smirked, wrapping an arm around Krista's shoulders. "Yeah, well, trust or not, if he keeps that attitude up, someone's going to snap. My money's on Ackerman."

Mikasa's steps slowed slightly, and she finally turned her head to address the group. "I'm not here to make friends with him. I'm here to fight Titans. If he thinks barking orders is all it takes to make us ready, he's wrong."

Jean groaned, throwing his head back in exasperation. "You're going to get us all killed. You know that, right?"

"Maybe," Connie muttered from the back, his tone half-serious. "But honestly, it's kind of impressive. She might be the first person to ever leave him speechless—well, almost speechless."

Ymir snickered. "He's probably planning the most brutal training session in history. Hope you're ready, Mikasa."

Mikasa ignored them, her jaw tightening as she replayed the encounter in her mind. Levi's condescending tone, the way he'd dismissed her and her brothers' experiences like they meant nothing—it had sparked a fire in her chest that refused to die down. You know nothing about me, Captain.

Armin placed a hand on her shoulder, his voice soft. "Mikasa, I know you don't like him, but maybe we can learn something from him. He's... different. But he's still on our side."

Mikasa didn't respond. She didn't trust Levi—not yet—but if he thought she'd back down so easily, he was mistaken.

Sasha leaned closer to Connie, "do you think Levi sleeps with his eyes open? I bet he does. Probably has a knife under his pillow too."

"Forget knives. I bet he sleeps standing up, ready to kill anything that moves."

As they turned the corner, Ymir's grin widened. "Just keep your heads down, do your work, and maybe—just maybe—you'll survive his wrath."

Krista gave a small, reassuring smile. "Or... we could try not to make him angry in the first place?"

Jean threw his hands up. "Yeah, say that to her. She's already leading us into the lion's den."

****************************

The sun had dipped below the horizon, casting the old Survey Corps headquarters in muted twilight. Mikasa sat alone on the edge of a worn stone fountain. Her fingers gripped her scarf tightly, knuckles pale against the dark fabric, as her mind replayed Levi's words.

"Hey!" Isabel's unmistakably bright voice shattered the quiet as she bounded into view, practically skipping across the courtyard. She plopped down beside Mikasa on the fountain, her grin as wide as ever. "Mind if I sit here?"

Mikasa shook her head slightly, not looking at her. Isabel's presence was hard to ignore—vibrant, insistent, and oddly comforting.

"Sitting here brooding like some tragic hero, huh? What's the damage this time?"

Mikasa sighed, her fingers tightening on the scarf. "Nothing," she muttered.

"Sure," Isabel said, rolling her eyes dramatically. "You've been glaring holes into that scarf for, like, ten minutes."

Mikasa hesitated, then shook her head. "It's nothing you'd care about."

Isabel gasped, clutching her chest in mock offense. "Excuse you, Miss Broody Ackerman, but I live for drama. Did he say something extra mean again? Did he tsk at you one too many times? Do I need to 'accidentally' spill tea on his papers?" A pause. "Okay okay okay, I have to ask—what were you thinking back there?"

Mikasa turned slightly, her brow furrowing. "What do you mean?"

Isabel grinned, leaning forward with both hands on her knees. "Standing up to him like that! I thought for sure he was going to throw you through a wall."

Mikasa's grip on her scarf tightened as she turned her gaze to the ground. "Someone had to say it. He's insufferable."

Isabel leaned forward, a mischievous grin spreading across her face. "Yeah, big bro's got a talent for making people want to throw him off a wall. But hey, he's not all bad. I mean, don't get me wrong—he's scary as hell when he's pissed, but he's not... heartless."

Mikasa gave her a look. "'Big bro'? You call the Captain, 'big bro'?"

Isabel blinked, her grin faltering for a second before returning full force. "Yeah, I do. Why? Surprised?"

Mikasa's brow furrowed slightly. "He doesn't seem like the type to let anyone call him that."

Isabel laughed. "Oh, he didn't let me. I just started calling him that, and now he's stuck with it."

"Why?" Mikasa asked, her curiosity momentarily overriding her frustration.

The grin faltered again, replaced by a flicker of something quieter. Isabel leaned back on her hands, staring up at the first stars appearing in the sky. "It's... complicated. Let's just say he's been looking out for me and Farlan for a long time. I owe him more than I can put into words."

Mikasa watched her, noting the shift in her demeanor. Isabel's usual playfulness hadn't disappeared, but there was something deeper behind it—something she didn't press.

Mikasa looked away, her jaw tightening. "He insulted all of us. Acted like we were worthless."

"Shocking," Isabel said, rolling her eyes dramatically. "Big bro? Insulting people? It's like the sun rising. Completely unexpected."

"He beat Eren senseless in the court. That wasn't training—it was cruelty."

Isabel winced. "Yeah, the beating was rough."

Mikasa's grip on the scarf tightened. "And he acts like he's better than everyone."

"Well," Isabel said, tilting her head in mock thought, "he is humanity's strongest soldier. The man could probably fight a Titan with his bare hands and still keep his hair looking perfect. But that's just how he is. He's not great at the whole 'gentle encouragement' thing."

"Then maybe he should learn," Mikasa said coldly. "Strength without compassion isn't leadership. It's arrogance. I don't respect people who tear others down to make themselves feel superior."

Isabel winced, letting out a low whistle. "Yikes. Okay, you're mad-mad." She paused, her tone softening. "But, for what it's worth... you were kind of amazing back there. Not many people can stand their ground with him and live to tell the tale."

Mikasa's expression didn't change, though her grip on her scarf loosened slightly. "I didn't do it to impress anyone."

"I know," Isabel said warmly. "That's what makes it even better."

They sat in silence for a moment, the soft rustle of leaves filling the quiet between them. Isabel's gaze flicked to Mikasa's scarf, a thoughtful look crossing her face. "You really care about your family, don't you? Eren, Armin... this fight. It's all for them."

Mikasa nodded, her fingers brushing over the fabric of the scarf. "They're all I have left."

Isabel leaned back, letting her hands rest on the cool stone of the fountain. "I get that. Family's everything. That's why I put up with 'Big Bro,' even when he's being, well... Levi."

Mikasa raised an eyebrow. "You actually call him 'Big Bro' to his face?"

"Of course," Isabel said with a grin. "Drives him nuts, which is half the fun."

She continued. "You've got guts, I'll give you that. Trust me, he's not as heartless as he seems. He's just... really, really bad at not being an ass."

Mikasa snorted softly. "Could've fooled me."

"He's just... bad at showing it," Isabel said with a shrug. "But if he's pushing you, it's because he sees potential. Big bro only gets extra grumpy with people he thinks are worth his time."

"Grumpy is an understatement."

"Fair," Isabel admitted with a grin. "But don't take it personally. He's like that with everyone. He even lectures me sometimes, and I'm adorable."

Mikasa tilted her head slightly, studying her. "You're not scared of him?"

"Scared? Of him?" Isabel laughed. "Nah. He's a big softie underneath all that glaring. You just have to get past the 'I'll murder you' vibe first.""

Mikasa's expression didn't soften, though her grip on her scarf relaxed slightly. "That doesn't excuse his behavior."

"Maybe not," Isabel agreed, her voice warm. "But hey, if it makes you feel better, I'll cheer you on while you get your revenge. Just don't break him too much—I kinda like having him around. But if he pushes you too far, just let me know. I'll kick his ass for you."

"You? Take down Captain Levi?"

"Don't laugh!" Isabel said, her grin widening. "I've got some moves, you know. Just ask Farlan—oh wait, don't. He'd deny it out of jealousy. Oh I'll trip him in the mess hall or something."

Mikasa raised an eyebrow. "That's your plan? Tripping him?"

"Yup," Isabel said cheerfully. "Simple, effective, and deeply satisfying. Bonus points if he actually falls, though that has not worked so far."

Mikasa shook her head, smiling slightly. Isabel's energy was hard to ignore, and it chipped away at the frustration Mikasa had been carrying all day.

"See?" Isabel said, nudging her shoulder. "You're smiling. I'm practically a miracle worker."

As they sat there, Mikasa found her gaze lingering on Isabel. There was something in her bright, teasing eyes and unrelenting spirit that reminded her of someone—a faint memory of her sister, blurred by time but unmistakable. Her chest tightened, the ache familiar.

But she didn't voice the thought. Instead, she let Isabel's easy laughter fill the space between them, grounding her in the present and easing the weight just enough to bear. For now, that was enough.

****************************

The moon cast faint shadows across the old stonework, its glow illuminating the weary faces of the small group that had gathered near the fountain.

Mikasa remained by the fountain after Isabel left. Around her, the others sat or leaned against nearby surfaces, their expressions subdued, the earlier adrenaline from Levi's speech replaced by a somber stillness.

Armin broke the silence first, his voice soft. "It's strange, isn't it? We made it through Trost... but so many didn't."

His words hung in the air, heavy and raw. Sasha hugged her knees to her chest, her gaze distant. "Like Mina, Thomas, Marco," she murmured. "They had families too. They were supposed to graduate with us."

A weighty silence followed, each cadet lost in their own thoughts. Mikasa's gaze dropped to her hands, her knuckles pale as they gripped the fabric of her scarf. The names of those who had fallen echoed faintly in her mind, interspersed with memories of their smiles, their voices.

Connie, ever the one to break tension, sighed dramatically. "And now, as if surviving Trost wasn't hard enough, we've got Captain Levi breathing down our necks. No pressure, right?"

"Under Captain Hell. Hell with a capital H," Jean muttered.

Sasha glanced at him, her lips twitching faintly. "He's worse than Trost. At least Titans don't talk."

Jean groaned. "Seriously, though. What is his deal? He insulted all of us, acted like we were trash, and then just walked off. Who does that?"

"He's not that bad," Armin offered, though his voice lacked conviction. "He's trying to prepare us. Maybe he thinks being harsh will toughen us up."

"Not that bad?" Connie cut in, his eyes wide. "Did we meet the same guy? He called us liabilities, threatened to make us titan bait, and somehow managed to insult the whole squad in under two minutes."

Krista leaned forward, her expression concerned. "Maybe he's just... trying to toughen us up. He's supposed to be the strongest soldier, right? Maybe this is his way of helping."

"Helping?" Jean echoed, incredulous. "You mean scaring us into thinking we're all about to die?"

"It's not fear," Mikasa said suddenly, her voice calm but firm. She looked up, her eyes meeting Jean's. "It's reality. He's reminding us what's at stake." Her conversation with Isabel had allowed her to see a different perspective.

Jean frowned but didn't argue, though his expression remained sour.

"Still," Connie said, trying to lighten the mood, "he doesn't have to look at us like we're all bugs he's about to squash. What's next? Making us crawl through mud while he watches with that deadpan face?"

"'You missed a spot, Springer,'" Sasha mocked in an exaggeratedly gruff voice, earning a burst of laughter from the group.

"'And you, Blouse,'" Connie added, joining in, "'drop the bread or I'll drop you.'"

Sasha gasped, clutching her chest dramatically. "No! Not the bread!"

The tension began to ease as laughter rippled through the group.

"Speaking of bread," Reiner said with a smirk, "who's betting Sasha tries to smuggle some into the old HQ tomorrow?"

"I don't smuggle," Sasha protested. "I liberate."

"That's not how that works!" Armin said, his face a mix of amusement and disbelief.

The laughter died down just enough for Jean to pipe up again. "But seriously, why do we have to deal with this guy? If it weren't for Eren and his Titan thing—"

"What about my Titan thing?" Eren cut in, bristling immediately.

"You're the reason we're under him!" Jean snapped, jabbing a finger in Eren's direction. "If you hadn't turned into a Titan, we wouldn't be here right now."

Eren snapped. "You think I asked for this? You think I wanted to turn into a monster?"

"Well, maybe you could've turned into a smarter monster," Jean retorted, stepping forward.

"Say that again!" Eren growled, getting nose-to-nose with him.

"I will! You're a—"

"Idiots," Mikasa muttered under her breath.

"Fight! Fight! Fight!" Connie chanted, grinning.

"They've been at it since day one."

Jean and Eren were nose-to-nose, their shouting echoing across the courtyard.

Normally, Mikasa would've stepped in, yanking them apart by their collars with a glare. But tonight, she leaned against the fountain, arms crossed, and simply watched.

"Are you going to stop them?" Armin asked, glancing at her.

"Not this time," Mikasa said, her tone casual. "They'll tire themselves out."

Jean and Eren both faltered, their eyes darting around as if expecting someone to break it up. When no one did, they reluctantly continued, throwing half-hearted insults and clumsy jabs.

"Can't believe no one's stepping in," Jean muttered under his breath.

"Yeah, it's weird," Eren grumbled, just loud enough for Jean to hear.

The recruits burst into laughter, Connie practically rolling on the ground.

Finally, Eren and Jean collapsed onto the ground, too exhausted to keep going.

"Feel better now?" Reiner asked, smirking.

"Shut up," they groaned in unison, prompting another wave of laughter.

****************************

The sun had barely begun to rise when the recruits gathered in the courtyard. Horses pawed impatiently at the dirt, their snorts adding to the ambient hum of a waking world. The faint gold of dawn crept over the walls, painting everything in a soft light that belied the tension in the air.

Levi stood at the forefront, his gaze scanning the group like a hawk surveying prey. Behind him, his squad members stood at ease—or in Isabel's case, not-so-subtly trying to pet one of the horses. Petra nudged her with a warning look, but Isabel just flashed her a grin.

"Listen up," Levi began, his voice cutting. "We're heading to the old Survey Corps headquarters. It's remote, secluded, and gives us the space we need to test Eren without any unwelcome interruptions and perfect for training. That means no distractions, no mistakes, and no excuses."

His gaze swept over the recruits, stopping briefly on Mikasa. Something in her composed posture irritated him—calculated, deliberate, and unyielding. He spoke again, his tone colder. "I don't care if you survived Trost or the Underground. Surviving Titans isn't the same as surviving me. If any of you screw up, I'll leave you behind."

"Wait—leave us behind?" Connie blurted, his voice tinged with panic. "But we're inside the walls!"

Levi's gaze snapped to him. "Bandits exist, Springer. And if I find your body stripped of gear and dignity on my way back, I'll assume you deserved it."

The group stiffened, the reality sinking in. Levi's voice was calm, almost bored, as he continued, "This isn't a field trip. If you think you can coast through this, do us all a favor and walk back to the barracks now."

Eren bristled, already opening his mouth to retort. Before he could, Mikasa placed a firm hand on his arm. "Don't," she murmured, her voice low enough for only him to hear.

Levi's gaze caught the movement, narrowing slightly. "Ackerman."

Mikasa met his eyes, her expression steady but unreadable. "Captain," she replied curtly, her voice calm.

"If you're half as reckless as I suspect, you'll get yourself—and the idiots around you—killed."

"I'm not reckless," Mikasa replied, her voice even but firm. Her eyes locked with his, unflinching.

Levi stepped closer, his presence looming despite the calmness of his movements. The other recruits watched with wide eyes, the tension palpable. "Prove it," he said softly, the words laced with an edge of authority that was impossible to ignore.

For a moment, the courtyard felt frozen in time. Mikasa's fists tightened at her sides, her expression never wavering. "I will," she said evenly.

Levi's lips twitched, the faintest hint of a smirk—or maybe a challenge. "We'll see."

He turned on his heel, breaking the charged moment as his voice rang out again. "You've got ten minutes to prepare. If you're not ready, stay behind and clean the barracks until they shine"

The recruits scrambled to their tasks, muttering among themselves as they checked their gear and saddled their horses. Mikasa lingered for a moment, her thoughts a swirl of frustration and determination. She hated his smug, condescending tone, but there was something in his gaze that unsettled her—like he saw more than he let on.

With a sharp tug on the reins, Levi's horse began to move, and the rest followed suit. The rhythmic clatter of hooves filled the air as they filed out of the courtyard and onto the open road. The rising sun bathed the landscape in warm light, but the weight of the journey ahead pressed heavily on their shoulders.

The horses clattered along the dirt path, the steady rhythm of hooves the only sound as the group traveled. The recruits rode in relative silence, still shaken from Levi's blunt words. Mikasa led near the front, her eyes scanning the horizon, while Eren and Armin followed close behind her. The others trailed, their faces a mix of weariness and unease.

"Does he have to be that harsh?" Jean muttered under his breath. "He acts like we're all Titan fodder already."

Eren, riding slightly ahead, glanced over his shoulder. "He's not wrong, though. If we're not ready, we won't survive."

Jean rolled his eyes, leaning forward in his saddle. "Of course you'd defend him. You probably dream about him giving you a pat on the back for being such a good soldier."

"Better than dreaming about running away," Eren shot back, his tone calm but pointed.

Jean bristled, sitting up straighter. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Exactly what it sounds like," Eren replied, his gaze fixed ahead. "At least I'm not afraid of him."

"I'm not afraid!" Jean snapped, his voice louder now.

"Could've fooled me," Eren said with a faint smirk.

"Both of you shut up," Mikasa cut in. She didn't even look back, her eyes locked on the road ahead.

Jean flinched at her words, muttering under his breath, "She's got Captain's attitude already."

Connie leaned over to Sasha, whispering, "Do you think he ever runs out of insults?"

"Do you want to find out?" Levi's voice cut through the air like a whip, and Connie nearly swallowed his tongue.

The two snapped their mouths shut, Sasha pulling her horse into line with an apologetic grin, while Connie muttered, "Why does he always hear me?"

"Keep the chatter down. If I have to stop this formation because one of you clowns falls off your horse, I'm leaving you behind."

Mikasa couldn't suppress the faint smirk that tugged at her lips, though she quickly masked it. Levi's remarks grated on her, but there was no denying he had a way of keeping the group in line. For now, she stayed focused, her gaze scanning the horizon for anything amiss.

The old headquarters loomed in the distance, its shadowy silhouette promising new challenges. Mikasa tightened her grip on the reins, her mind racing.

****************************

The group dismounted their horses and gazed at the sprawling, abandoned building that loomed before them. The old Survey Corps headquarters had clearly been left to decay—its walls were coated in layers of dust, cobwebs clung to every corner, and the faint smell of mildew wafted through the cracked wooden doors.

Levi stood at the entrance, arms crossed, his gray eyes scanning the group. "Welcome to your new home," he said flatly. "It's a dump, but lucky for you, I like clean spaces. So, your first mission as soldiers under my command: make this place spotless."

The recruits exchanged uneasy glances. Jean groaned audibly. "Seriously? We're soldiers, not janitors."

Levi's eyes flicked to Jean, narrowing. "And yet, you can't even stand in formation without tripping over your own feet. Maybe cleaning will teach you how to follow orders."

Jean opened his mouth to retort, but Mikasa's elbow nudged him sharply. "Shut up," she muttered under her breath.

Levi stepped into the dimly lit hall, running a gloved finger along the dusty banister. He held it up for everyone to see. "If I find so much as a speck of dirt when you're done, we'll start over. Understood?"

"Yes, Captain," the group chorused, some more begrudgingly than others.

Hours later, the once-abandoned building echoed with the sound of scrubbing brushes, broom swipes, and the occasional frustrated groan.

"Who knew dirt could be this stubborn?" Connie grumbled, aggressively scrubbing a particularly grimy corner.

"It's not the dirt," Sasha quipped from nearby. "It's the Captain. He's probably got eyes on us right now, waiting to pounce the moment we miss something."

"He's like a dirt-detecting bloodhound," Jean muttered, wiping sweat from his forehead.

Mikasa, meanwhile, worked quietly, scrubbing a section of the wall with deliberate care. She wasn't as vocal as the others, but her movements were precise, her focus unwavering. When someone handed her a broom, she seamlessly transitioned, sweeping the floor with the same meticulous attention to detail.

Jean noticed her calm demeanor and frowned. "Why do you look like you're actually enjoying this?" he asked, incredulous.

Mikasa paused, glancing at him over her shoulder. "I like things to be organized," she said simply. "It's satisfying."

Connie snickered. "Satisfying? Mikasa, you're weird."

She ignored him, her gaze drifting momentarily toward Levi, who was inspecting a different room with his usual air of quiet intensity. "At least the captain knows how to keep things clean," she added, her tone neutral. "That's one good thing about him."

Jean let out a dry laugh. "That's all you've got? 'He's clean'? High praise, Mikasa."

Nearby, Sasha chuckled, brushing a cobweb out of her hair. "Yeah, not 'strong,' not 'smart,' not even 'scary.' Just 'clean.' Guess he really left an impression, huh?"

Isabel, perched precariously on a ladder as she dusted an overhead beam, grinned down at Mikasa. "Hey, cleanliness is a big deal. Especially for bro. If he didn't have us cleaning, he'd probably just burn this place down and start fresh."

Mikasa gave a small shrug. "It's the one thing I can respect him for," she said matter-of-factly, resuming her sweeping.

"Ugh, you're no fun," Jean muttered. "Here I thought you'd at least rip him apart for being a jerk."

"Why would I waste my energy?" Mikasa replied coolly, her tone as steady as her sweeping. But there was a faint curve to her lips, enough to let them know she wasn't completely immune to their banter.

"Still weird," Connie muttered, but the grin on his face betrayed his amusement.

Unbeknownst to the group, Levi had entered the hall quietly, his soft-soled boots making no sound against the creaky wooden floor. His eyes scanned the recruits' progress—or lack thereof—with a mix of irritation and disdain. When he heard Mikasa's comment, he paused just inside the doorway, leaning casually against the frame.

"'He's clean,' huh?" Levi's voice cut through the room like a blade.

The group froze mid-task. Mikasa straightened, gripping her broom handle tightly as the others turned toward him like deer caught in a Titan's glare.

Levi pushed off the frame and stepped into the room, his gray eyes zeroing in on Mikasa. "That's the best you could come up with, Ack—" He caught himself, his gaze flickering briefly as if considering something. "Mikasa."

A collective gasp rippled through the group at the use of her first name. Levi ignored it, his attention fixed solely on her.

"That's the one good thing about me?" he repeated, his tone dry but laced with faint amusement. "I guess I'll just have to try harder to impress you."

Mikasa's expression didn't change, but there was a faint flush in her cheeks. "It's better than having nothing good to say," she replied evenly, her voice steady.

Levi smirked, clearly entertained by her composure. His gaze swept over the room before landing back on her. "Not bad work," he said, his tone softer now, though the edge remained. "Maybe if the rest of these brats took a page out of your book, this place wouldn't still look like a pigsty."

Jean bristled, muttering under his breath. "Did he just give her a compliment? I didn't even know he could do that."

Levi shot Jean a withering glance. "Careful, Kirstein. I've got plenty of extra brooms, and I'd love to see you put one to better use than running your mouth."

Jean immediately busied himself with scrubbing a particularly stubborn stain, earning a stifled laugh from Sasha.

Levi's gaze flicked back to Mikasa, lingering for a moment longer than necessary. His smirk deepened, almost imperceptibly. "Keep it up," he said before turning to leave. "Don't think I won't notice if you slack off."

As he disappeared through the doorway, Mikasa exhaled quietly, her grip on the broom loosening. She resumed her sweeping as the others exchanged incredulous glances.

"Did he just... smile?" Connie whispered, his voice filled with mock horror.

"I think he did," Sasha replied, wide-eyed. "I didn't know his face could do that."

"Shut up and clean," Mikasa said, but there was a faint flicker of something in her expression—something neither she nor the others could quite place.

****************************

In one of the halls, Mikasa was knelt by the corner, sleeves rolled up, her scarf tied back to keep it clean. She worked with precision, scrubbing a particularly stubborn patch of dirt with methodical determination.

Her movements were smooth, practiced, and unwavering. The focus in her eyes might as well have been the same as when she'd face a Titan. The world outside her task blurred into irrelevance.

"You're taking this seriously."

The voice came from behind her, startlingly close. Mikasa tensed for a fraction of a second before she turned her head slightly. There stood Levi, his arms crossed, his usual stoic mask in place. His gray eyes scanned the area she was cleaning, lingering on the meticulously scrubbed floor before returning to her.

"Captain," she said evenly, turning her attention back to her work. Her tone was calm, neutral, but her fingers gripped the brush just a little tighter.

Levi stepped closer, his boots barely making a sound against the polished stone. "Surprising. Didn't think someone from the Underground would have a knack for cleaning."

Mikasa's hand paused mid-scrub. She turned to meet his gaze unflinching. "We were poor, not dirty."

Levi's eyebrow twitched—barely perceptible, but it was there. Something about her words struck a chord. He'd said those exact words to Erwin once, years ago, when he, Isabel, and Furlan had first been dragged out of the Underground to join the Survey Corps.

Levi's presence beside her felt sharper than it should, the weight of his gaze pressing down even though his tone had softened.

"Good answer," Levi said, his voice quieter now. He stepped closer, crouching down to inspect the section she'd been working on. "You missed a spot." His gloved hand gestured to an almost invisible streak of dirt on the stone.

Mikasa paused, her dark eyes flicking up to meet his. "I'll get to it," she said simply, her tone betraying nothing.

Levi didn't move, his gaze lingering on her longer than it should have. The precision in her movements, the quiet fire in her eyes—it was... familiar. Too familiar.

"Not bad," he muttered, straightening. "Guess you're not just swinging blades around mindlessly."

"Cleaning isn't exactly the same as fighting Titans," Mikasa said edged with dry humor.

Levi's lips twitched faintly. "True. You're better at this than some of your comrades. Springer's over there trying to turn his mop into a makeshift weapon."

Mikasa's gaze flicked toward the doorway, where the faint sounds of Connie's frustrated muttering carried from another room. A small smile tugged at her lips, but it was gone as quickly as it came.

Levi caught it, though. "Something funny, Ackerman?"

"Nothing," Mikasa said smoothly, turning back to her scrubbing.

His gaze swept over her once more before he turned, his coat brushing lightly against her arm as he moved past. As he was leaving, he stopped, as though something had occurred to him.

"And Ackerman," he said over his shoulder, "next time you want to call me arrogant, don't bother whispering. I can hear you just fine."

Mikasa froze for the barest second before narrowing her eyes. How did he hear that?

****************************

Levi walked down the dimly lit corridor of the old headquarters, his footsteps echoing softly on the freshly scrubbed floors. His mind wandered back to the scene he'd just left, the image of Mikasa Ackerman crouched by the floor, sleeves rolled up, her movements precise and determined.

She was a peculiar one.

It wasn't just her skill—although that was undeniable—or the cold intensity in her gaze when she fought. It was something deeper, something that gnawed at the edges of his thoughts. She wasn't just talented; she was meticulous, almost obsessively so. That kind of focus usually came from loss, from someone who knew the weight of failure all too well.

And then there was the way she'd responded to him. No fear, no hesitation. She didn't grovel like most people did under his scrutiny, nor did she bristle defensively. Instead, she met him with an unyielding calm, her words clipped but never disrespectful.

It was rare for someone to walk that line with him—and even rarer for him to notice.

He stopped in front of a window, gazing out at the fading twilight. Mikasa reminded him of himself in ways that made him uneasy. The relentless drive, the quiet defiance, the way she bore her burdens in silence. She wasn't just a soldier; she was a weapon, honed and ready. And yet, there was something in her that made him pause, something he couldn't quite name.

"Tch," he muttered, shaking his head as though to dislodge the thought. "Too much time around brats. I'm losing my edge."

The sound of approaching footsteps broke his reverie. He didn't need to look to know who it was; the unsteady, slightly-too-loud gait was unmistakable.

"Levi!" Hange's voice rang out, bright and gratingly cheerful as always. She rounded the corner, a wide grin plastered across her face. "What are you brooding about now?"

Levi sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I'm not brooding. I'm thinking."

"Same thing," Hange quipped, sidling up beside him and leaning dramatically against the wall. "Let me guess—wondering how to make the recruits suffer more tomorrow?"

"Maybe I'll start with you," Levi muttered, his tone flat.

Hange ignored the jab, her grin widening. "Oh, come on. You can't fool me. I saw you watching that Ackerman girl earlier."

Levi's expression didn't change, but his eyes flicked to Hange in warning. "Don't start."

"Oh, I'm starting," Hange said, poking his shoulder. "She's impressive, isn't she? Quick, disciplined, sharp as a blade. Reminds me of someone..."

Levi crossed his arms, his gaze fixed on the window. "She's a soldier, Hange. That's all."

"Uh-huh," Hange said, clearly unconvinced. She studied him for a moment, then leaned in with a mischievous glint in her eyes. "You know, you're not getting any younger, Levi. Maybe it's time to—"

"Hange."

"—think about settling down," Hange finished, undeterred. She clasped her hands together in mock excitement. "You could get married! Have a nice little tea shop somewhere—oh! And a cat! You'd be adorable."

Levi turned to glare at her, his expression a mixture of irritation and disbelief. "I'd rather fight Titans barefoot."

"Aw, don't be like that," Hange teased. "You're lonely, Levi. Admit it."

"I'm not lonely," Levi said firmly, turning back to the window. "I prefer being alone. It's quieter."

"Quieter, sure," Hange said, her tone softening slightly. "But it's also emptier."

Levi didn't respond, his jaw tightening. Hange watched him for a moment before sighing dramatically and throwing an arm around his shoulders.

"Fine, fine," she said, grinning again. "But if you ever decide to take my advice, let me know. I'll officiate the wedding."

Levi shrugged her off with a grunt.

"Go bother someone else," he said, his tone weary but lacking its usual bite.

Hange laughed, stepping back and giving him a mock salute. "Yes, sir! But seriously, think about the cat."

As she walked away, her laughter echoing down the hall, Levi exhaled slowly. His gaze drifted back to the window, the lingering image of Mikasa flashing in his mind once more.

"Tch," he muttered, brushing the thought aside as he turned and headed back down the corridor.

Chapter Text

Levi stood by the window of his office, high above the training grounds. The panes were slightly grimy despite the cadets' earlier cleaning spree, but they did little to obscure his view. Below, the group was hard at work—or rather, half of them were working, while the other half stumbled over themselves like amateurs.

Typical, Levi thought, his sharp gray eyes narrowing as he observed them.

Mikasa Ackerman, however, stood out from the mess of flailing limbs and awkward maneuvers. Her movements were precise, her focus unshakable. Every strike with her blades was deliberate, every step calculated. She wasn't just training—she was refining, perfecting.

Something about her irked him. Maybe it was the sheer intensity she carried, the quiet defiance in the way she executed everything without a hint of hesitation. It reminded him too much of... well, himself.

He leaned forward slightly as he continued to watch. She was helping Eren now, correcting his stance with the faintest frown of disapproval. A perfectionist, clearly.

Then, suddenly, she paused.

Mikasa stiffened slightly, her head tilting as though she could feel something—someone—watching her. Her eyes scanned the training grounds before lifting toward his window.

Levi didn't move, but his breath caught for a fraction of a second. She was staring directly at him—or so it seemed. Her eyes burned with intensity, searching the seemingly empty window as if she could see through the glass, through him.

Impossible, Levi thought, pulling back slightly. She can't know I'm here.

Still, the sensation unsettled him. Her gaze lingered for a moment longer before Armin called out to her from across the field. Mikasa turned, her attention shifting as she responded to her brother. Moments later, she was back at training with her precision and grace.

Levi stayed by the window, his arms crossed, his jaw tight. The flicker of something unfamiliar stirred in his chest. It wasn't admiration, not quite—but it wasn't disdain either. It was... curiosity. The way she had seemed to pierce through him, left him unsettled.

"Tch," he muttered stepping back from the window and turning toward the door. He needed to get back to work, to focus. He had no time for distractions.

But as he made his way down the hall, the image of her gaze lingered in his mind.

What the hell was that?

****************************

The dense forest echoed with the whoosh of ODM gear as cadets zipped between the trees, their shouts and laughter quickly morphing into cries of effort. The game was simple in theory: evade the "It" team, comprised of Levi and his elite squad, for as long as possible. But in practice? It was a nightmare.

Levi had made it clear from the start: "If you're caught, you're out. No excuses. And if I see anyone slacking, you'll regret it."

For Mikasa, the stakes were personal. She didn't just want to avoid getting caught—she wanted to prove herself.

Connie was the first to fall. Isabel, laughing maniacally, dove at him with reckless precision, tagging him mid-air. "Gotcha!" she hollered, grinning as Connie dangled upside down in his harness.

"Seriously, Isabel?" Connie groaned. "Go easy, will ya?"

"Easy's for losers!" Isabel called back, darting off to find her next victim.

Jean went next, cornered by Eld in a rapid series of moves that left him cursing. "Damn it!" he muttered, kicking at the dirt as Eld casually tagged him and moved on.

Petra and Oluo worked together to take down Reiner and Bertolt, who had tried to use their size to outmaneuver them. It didn't work.

But Mikasa was untouchable.

Petra almost got her, her blade missing Mikasa's shoulder by an inch as Mikasa twisted mid-air and darted away into the canopy. Gunther and Oluo tried to cut her off, but she used the momentum of her ODM gear to weave between branches, leaving them behind in stunned silence.

"She's like a damn ghost," Gunther muttered, watching her disappear.

"She's not human, that's for sure," Oluo grumbled.

Furlan managed to corner her briefly, but Mikasa feinted to the left before shooting upward in a move so precise, he had to pause in admiration.

Then, it was just her and Levi.

Mikasa knew he was coming. She felt the shift in the air, the almost imperceptible quiet that fell over the forest as Levi closed in. Her heart thudded in her chest, but she didn't let it distract her. She gripped her blades tighter, her eyes scanning the trees for the faintest flicker of movement.

It came—a blur to her right, impossibly fast. Mikasa dodged on instinct, her ODM gear hissing as she veered sharply to the left. Levi's blade missed her by a hair's breadth, but she didn't let herself feel relieved. This wasn't over.

He didn't speak, but his movements were calculated, relentless. Every strike pushed her closer to a dead end, his precision forcing her into tighter and tighter spaces.

Mikasa refused to back down. She spun mid-air, using the momentum to dive between two closely packed trees, her blades slashing through the branches to clear her path. Levi followed, his speed unmatched, his presence a constant shadow on her heels.

"Trying to impress me, Ackerman?," he murmured, just loud enough for her to hear.

Mikasa's lips pressed into a thin line, her focus unbroken. She darted upward, flipping over a thick branch to put more distance between them. Levi anticipated the move, his blade grazing the wood where she'd been seconds before.

Their movements became a dance, each step more intricate than the last. Mikasa's breathing was steady, her body moving on instinct as she dodged and weaved through the forest. But Levi was faster—his attacks sharper, more precise.

Finally, he cut her off, his blade slicing through the wire of her ODM gear. Mikasa landed lightly on a branch, spinning to face him. Her chest heaved with exertion, but her eyes burned with determination.

Levi landed in front of her, his stance calm and unshaken. "You're good," he said, his voice low and almost teasing. "Better than most."

Mikasa didn't respond. She tightened her grip on her blades, her gaze locked onto his.

"But not good enough," Levi finished. In a blur of motion, he closed the distance between them, his blade grazing her arm just enough to tag her.

Mikasa froze, her breath catching. She hadn't seen it coming.

"You're tagged," Levi said simply, stepping back. His eyes lingered on her, his expression unreadable.

Mikasa straightened, meeting his gaze without flinching. "I'll do better next time," she said, her voice steady.

Levi's lips quirked into the faintest smirk, a rare flicker of approval. "We'll see."

For a moment, the air between them crackled with tension—unspoken, electric, and charged with something neither of them could name. Then Levi turned, his figure disappearing into the trees as if he'd never been there.

Mikasa stood still, her heart pounding. She wasn't sure what had just happened, but one thing was clear: this wasn't over.

****************************

Next came the hand-to-hand combat drills. The midday sun beat down on the group, sweat dripping from their brows as shouts and grunts echoed across the field. Mikasa stood apart from the chaos, her sparring partner groaning on the ground after a swift takedown.

"Next time," Mikasa said curtly, offering a hand to help her partner up, "use your legs more effectively. You're too stiff."

Her sparring partner nodded weakly, muttering something about not wanting to spar with her again.

Levi, observing the scene from the sidelines, caught sight of Mikasa standing idle, her arms crossed as her eyes scanned the field. His gaze narrowed. "Ackerman!" he called, his voice cutting through the noise.

Mikasa turned to him, her posture instantly alert. "Yes, Captain?"

"You're done already?" Levi asked, striding toward her.

"Yes," she replied simply, her tone steady.

Levi tilted his head, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "Then you can spar with me. Let's see if you're as good as you think you are."

The field went silent. Conversations ceased as recruits turned their attention to the unexpected pairing. Eren and Armin exchanged wide-eyed glances, while Sasha muttered, "You show him, Mikasa!"

Mikasa didn't hesitate. "Understood, Captain."

They squared off in the center of the field, the tension thick as a storm cloud. Levi stood relaxed, his eyes locked onto Mikasa's every move. Mikasa mirrored his stance, her muscles taut, her gaze fixed on his.

"Ready?" Levi asked, his tone neutral.

Mikasa nodded, and in a flash, they moved.

Mikasa lunged first, aiming for a low sweep to knock him off balance. Levi dodged effortlessly, pivoting to counter with a precise strike toward her shoulder. Mikasa deflected it, stepping back to reassess.

"You're not going to beat me with basics," he challenged.

Mikasa's lips pressed into a thin line as she advanced again, faster this time. Her strikes were calculated, fluid, and relentless, but Levi matched her move for move, his reflexes sharp and his movements almost preternatural.

The recruits watched in stunned silence, barely breathing as the clash unfolded. Mikasa was quick, but Levi was faster—every strike she threw met with an equally swift counter.

Then it happened. Levi caught her arm mid-strike, twisting it just enough to unbalance her. In the blink of an eye, he swept her legs out from under her and pinned her to the ground, one knee pressing firmly against her ribs, his grip unyielding.

"Yield," Levi said evenly, his face mere inches from hers.

Mikasa glared up at him, her dark eyes blazing. But instead of conceding, she suddenly twisted her hips, aiming a kick at his side. It was a bold, sneaky move, one that might have caught anyone else off guard.

Not Levi.

He anticipated it, catching her leg mid-air and slamming it back down. This time, he shifted his weight, pinning her even more securely. His grip on her wrist tightened as he leaned in slightly, his voice low and firm.

"I'm older than you," Levi said, his tone calm but carrying an edge of finality. "And I am stronger than you. Don't forget that."

Mikasa's chest heaved with exertion, her pride stinging at his words and her inability to break free. But she didn't look away, meeting his gaze with defiance. The weight of his grip, the sheer dominance in his voice—it stirred something unfamiliar. A faint warmth crept up her neck, a blush she couldn't will away.

Levi's eyes didn't miss it. His brow furrowed slightly, a flicker of confusion crossing his face before he masked it behind his usual stoic demeanor. For a moment, his grip lingered, tightening slightly before he caught himself and let go.

He stood with the same precision he showed in everything he did, as his gaze flicked to Mikasa one last time. "If you're this distracted in a real fight, you'll get yourself killed," he said, his voice quieter but no less cutting. "Sort yourself out."

Mikasa sat up slowly, her fingers brushing the dust off her uniform, the blush still faintly visible. She met his back with a glare as he walked off, but her heart raced for reasons she couldn't quite name.

"That was insane," Connie whispered, his eyes wide.

Levi turned his gaze to the gawking recruits, raising an eyebrow. "What's the matter? Never seen someone lose before? Or do I need to make this a demonstration for all of you? Get back to training before I show you exactly what not to do."

The recruits scrambled back to their sparring partners, but the tension from the duel lingered in the air. Mikasa returned to her position without a word, but her mind replayed Levi's words over and over.

****************************

Mikasa lay on her bunk, staring at the wooden beams of the ceiling. Sleep wouldn't come; her mind was caught in a loop, replaying the events of earlier in the day.

The hand-to-hand combat training had been routine—until Levi had challenged her. His words echoed in her mind, unshakable.

"I'm older than you. And I'm stronger than you."

Her pride stung at the memory of being pinned so easily. No one had bested her that quickly before. She had always been the strongest, her skills unmatched among her peers. Until him.

She clenched her fists. She couldn't let this go. Swinging her legs over the edge of the bed, she glanced around. Sasha was fast asleep. Silently, she slipped out of bed and grabbed her gear, pulling on a tank top and loose pants. The cool night air kissed her skin as she made her way to the training room.

Mikasa inhaled deeply, steadying her racing thoughts.

She began her routine with sharp, deliberate movements. Punches and kicks cut through the air, her body moving with practiced precision. Her thin frame glistened faintly under the pale light, muscles taut with effort. Each strike, each pivot, carried the weight of her frustration and determination. She wasn't just training—she was challenging herself, pushing the limits of what she thought she could do.

She worked in silence, her breaths steady but growing heavier.

She didn't hear him enter.

Levi leaned against the doorway, arms crossed. He didn't interrupt—yet. His eyes followed her movements, noting every fluid strike, every perfectly calculated step. But it wasn't just her technique that held his attention; it was the tension in her posture, the unrelenting focus in her eyes. She wasn't just training—she was burning something away.

"Are you trying to kill the dummy or yourself?"

The sharpness of his voice startled her. She spun around, her eyes locking onto him in surprise.

"I didn't hear you come in," she said flatly, turning back to the dummy. "And I'm fine."

"Doesn't look like it." Levi stepped inside, his boots clicking softly against the wooden floor. "Training this late is either dedication or stupidity. Which is it?"

"Neither," she replied curtly, resuming her strikes. "I couldn't sleep."

"Clearly," Levi said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. He came closer, standing a few feet behind her. "Let me guess—you're replaying our sparring match in your head, trying to figure out how to beat me."

Mikasa froze mid-swing. He grated on her nerves. "What if I am?"

"Then you're wasting your time," he said bluntly, moving past her to inspect the dummy. His hand brushed over the worn fabric. "You're good, but you're not better than me."

The quiet challenge in his words made her eye twitch. "I wasn't planning on giving up."

"Good." He turned to face her fully, his gaze dropping briefly to the slight rise and fall of her shoulders. "But training alone isn't going to cut it."

She raised an eyebrow. "So what do you suggest?"

Levi smirked faintly, stepping back toward the center of the room. "Spar with me."

Mikasa hesitated. There was no mistaking the weight of his offer—it wasn't just an invitation to train; it was a challenge. And she wasn't sure if she wanted to lose again, not after what had happened earlier.

"I thought you said I needed rest," she said, her voice quieter now.

"And you do," he replied. "But clearly, you're not going to listen to that. So, if you're going to wear yourself out, you might as well do it properly."

For a moment, the air between them felt heavy, charged. Her pride warred with her caution. Finally, she nodded, stepping forward. "Alright."

Levi moved into position, his stance relaxed but sharp, his eyes never leaving hers. "No holding back, Ackerman."

"I wasn't planning to," she shot back.

Their first clash was swift, her strikes fast and precise. But Levi's counters were effortless, his movements impossibly smooth. He wasn't just reacting—he was predicting her every move. Each time she pressed forward, he evaded, his gaze almost mocking her.

"Too slow," he muttered, sidestepping her and catching her wrist mid-strike. His grip was firm but controlled as he twisted her arm just enough to throw her off balance.

Mikasa gritted her teeth, yanking herself free. She didn't let the frustration show, but it burned beneath her skin. She adjusted her stance, circling him, her eyes narrowing. He was playing with her, testing her limits—and she hated it.

When Mikasa struck again, she adjusted her angle, aiming lower and forcing Levi to block and take a calculated step back. For a fleeting moment, she thought she'd gained the upper hand, her foot grazing close enough to unbalance him. But Levi was faster.

In one smooth motion, he caught her ankle mid-kick, his grip ironclad, and swept her other leg out from under her. The impact stole her breath as she hit the floor with a sharp thud, her vision briefly swimming. Before she could recover, Levi was on her.

He crouched low, pinning her wrists against the wooden floor with a precision that spoke of years of experience. His face was calm, his eyes fixed on hers, but his grip left no room for resistance. One of his knees bent between her legs, pressing down just enough to immobilize her completely.

"You're still rushing," Levi said, his voice steady and cool. "You thought you saw an opening, but you didn't plan for what came next. That's why you're on the bottom—and I'm not."

Mikasa's chest heaved as her pride stung, frustration bubbling under the surface. But then, something else hit her—she became acutely aware of their proximity. The sharp lines of his face were only inches from hers, his breath steady and warm against her skin. His eyes, cold and calculating, seemed even more intense up close, and her heart pounded louder, betraying her calm exterior.

Her face flushed, and she felt the heat creeping up her neck, blooming into a deep, scarlet blush.

Levi noticed immediately. His brows furrowed slightly. "Why are you getting all red, Ackerman?" His tone was flat, almost dismissive, but the question hung in the air like a weight.

Mikasa's lips parted, but no response came. She couldn't even will herself to look away. Her mind raced for an explanation, but nothing made sense—not the blush, not the way her pulse quickened, and certainly not the way her skin prickled under his steady stare.

Then Levi seemed to realize it. His gaze shifted to her lips slightly, the flicker of awareness crossing his face as he registered their position—the way his body hovered above hers, his knee pressed close, his hands gripping her wrists. It was nothing inappropriate, but the tension in the air made it feel far too intimate.

He released her wrists abruptly, stepping back as though burned. Without a word, he turned on his heel and strode toward the door. The door clicked shut behind him, leaving the training room in silence.

Mikasa lay there for a moment, staring at the ceiling, her chest rising and falling as she caught her breath. Her heart was pounding—loud, insistent, and not entirely because of the sparring match. She sat up slowly, her fingers brushing against her flushed face.

Why am I blushing?

Her mind replayed the moment he had pinned her down—the weight of his hands on her wrists, the pressure of his knee holding her in place, the intensity of his gaze locking onto hers. It should have infuriated her. It should have made her feel defeated.

But instead... Did I actually like that?

The thought hit her like a slap, and her cheeks flared hotter. She stood abruptly, shaking her head as if that could erase the lingering sensation of his grip, his closeness. No. No, that's ridiculous. I didn't like it. I couldn't have liked it.

But her traitorous mind wouldn't stop. The memory of his steady, unrelenting hold, the way he had been so utterly in control, replayed itself in vivid detail.

I've never lost so completely before. The admission made her fists clench. She wasn't used to being overpowered, wasn't used to feeling so— helpless? No. It wasn't that. It was something else.

She paced the empty room, trying to sort through the tangle of emotions knotting in her chest. The logical part of her wanted to dismiss it as frustration at being beaten, but another part—the part that made her blush harder—kept whispering the truth she didn't want to admit.

I didn't hate it.

Her breath hitched, and she froze mid-step, staring at the spot on the floor where he had held her down. Her pulse raced as the thought lingered, impossible to banish.

I didn't hate it at all.

She let out a shaky exhale, forcing herself to push the feelings down, deep enough to suffocate them. This was nothing. It had to be nothing.

But as she turned to leave the room, the memory of his voice echoed in her mind, calm and firm: "I'm older than you, and I am stronger than you."

She knew she should hate him for it. But the truth was that she didn't.

****************************

The next morning, the dining hall buzzed with the chatter and laughter of recruits. Mikasa and Sasha sat at their usual table, the sunlight streaming through the tall windows casting a warm glow.

"This stew is incredible," Sasha mumbled through a mouthful of bread. "I think I could eat this every day for the rest of my life."

Mikasa offered a faint smile, swirling her spoon idly in her own bowl. Her mind was elsewhere, replaying moments from the night before. Why can't I stop thinking about it? The way Levi's hands had gripped her wrists, his calm, commanding voice as he instructed her—it all lingered in her head like an unshakable fog.

The hall suddenly grew quieter, conversations dropping into murmurs. Mikasa glanced up to see Levi entering the room, his expression calm and unreadable as ever. He moved with his usual efficiency, grabbing his tray without a word and heading toward the table where Hange and his squad sat.

Despite herself, Mikasa's cheeks warmed, the vivid memory of the sparring session flashing through her mind. Pull it together. He's just your captain.

"Mikasa!" Sasha whispered sharply, leaning closer with wide eyes. "Are you... are you blushing?"

"No!" Mikasa hissed, her voice a little too high. She turned her face away, her cheeks burning harder. Damn it, Sasha.

"You totally are!" Sasha squeaked, dropping her bread and pointing at Mikasa's flushed face. "Do you have a crush on Captain Levi?!"

"Keep your voice down!" Mikasa hissed, glancing toward Levi's table. He didn't appear to have heard, but the rest of the recruits were definitely catching Sasha's excitement.

"Come on, Mikasa, spill!" Sasha prodded, her grin growing wider by the second. "You've got a thing for him, don't you?"

"No way!" Mikasa shot back, but her voice lacked conviction. Sasha's knowing smirk only deepened as she kept pestering her.

Mikasa groaned. "Ugh, shut up—he'll hear you... fine!" She leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a begrudging whisper. "I may be slightly attracted to him."

Sasha practically squealed, clapping her hands together. "I knew it! Oh my god, Mikasa, this is amazing."

"Be quiet!" Mikasa snapped, her glare fiery. But before she could say more, another voice piped up behind them.

"Ohhhhhh, what was that?" Isabel's teasing tone was impossible to ignore as she plopped herself down at their table, her green eyes gleaming with mischief.

Mikasa's stomach dropped. "How much did you hear?" she muttered, already regretting being here.

"Enough to know that you've got a little crush on big bro," Isabel said with a snicker. "Relax, I'm not gonna tell him. But you've got guts, Mikasa. You know how many girls fall for him and run screaming the second he so much as glares at them?"

"It's not a crush," she said stubbornly. "And even if it were, it's not like it matters."

"Oh, I don't know about that." Isabel leaned in, her grin positively wicked. "You've got potential to withstand him, I'll give you that. Honestly, with both of your staminas..." She paused, letting the moment hang before adding with a sly smile, "I wonder what you two could do in bed."

Mikasa's spoon clattered against her bowl as she stared at Isabel, mortified. "What the hell?!"

Sasha was in tears, nearly falling out of her seat from laughing so hard. "Oh my god, Isabel, stop! You're gonna kill her."

Isabel shrugged, looking far too pleased with herself. "I'm just saying, Mikasa. You're tougher than the others. You've got a shot, if you can get past that stick up his ass."

"Could you be any more inappropriate?" Mikasa groaned, her face a blazing scarlet.

"Probably," Isabel said cheerfully. "But don't worry, I'll keep my mouth shut. For now."

As Sasha dissolved into another fit of giggles, Mikasa buried her face in her hands, silently vowing to never sit near these two again. From across the room, Levi glanced briefly in their direction, one brow raising slightly as he caught the tail end of their laughter.

He had noticed when he had entered the dining hall. Her.

When Levi had made his way to the serving station, grabbed his tray without a word, and began heading toward his usual spot with Hange and his squad, his attention had snagged on two figures near the center of the room—Mikasa and Sasha.

At first glance, they were just two cadets in the midst of a conversation, Sasha grinning widely while Mikasa sat with her typical reserved demeanor. But something about the way Sasha leaned closer, practically bouncing in her seat, caught his attention. Mikasa, on the other hand, looked... tense. Her hands were quick, darting up to cover Sasha's mouth as the other girl looked ready to squeal.

And then there it was—the faintest blush on Mikasa's face.

Levi's steps slowed imperceptibly, his eyes narrowing. What the hell are they talking about?

His gaze lingered a fraction too long, long enough for Mikasa to glance up. Their eyes met, and her reaction was immediate. She looked away, her movements too quick to be casual. If he hadn't been certain before, that was all the confirmation he needed.

So, it's about me. The thought didn't annoy him as much as it should have.

He forced himself to keep walking, his expression betraying nothing. But the corner of his mouth twitched upward in the faintest smirk as he approached his squad's table.

He set his tray down beside Hange, who was already halfway through an animated conversation with Petra about her latest "experiment." Levi paid them little mind, his focus momentarily drifting back to the table in the center of the room. Mikasa and Sasha were still there, Sasha laughing while Mikasa looked like she'd rather be in underground.

Levi picked up his fork, poking at his food without much interest. Cadets and their whispers. Probably some stupid gossip. And yet, his gaze flicked back one more time before he could stop himself as he thought about last night's event.

His squad didn't miss the subtle shift in his attention. Hange raised an eyebrow, leaning closer with a sly grin. "Something interesting over there, Captain?"

Levi didn't answer, his eyes already back on his plate. "Mind your own business."

"Touchy," Hange teased, but she returned to her conversation, leaving Levi to his thoughts.

He didn't glance back again, but the image of Mikasa's flushed face lingered in the back of his mind, unbidden and persistent. Blushing, huh?

****************************

Levi sat on a bench outside the building, his arms crossed and his gaze fixed on a nondescript spot on the ground. He had been enjoying the relative quiet until Hange plopped down beside him, a mischievous grin plastered across their face.

"You were staring at her," Hange said without preamble, her voice full of barely contained glee.

Levi didn't so much as flinch. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Oh, come on," Hange drawled, leaning closer as if sharing a secret. "In the dining hall. Mikasa Ackerman? You know, the one you've been sneakily observing every chance you get? Ring any bells?"

"Stop making shit up."

Hange's grin widened. "You're terrible at denying things, you know that?" She tapped her chin thoughtfully. "But honestly, I get it. She's got that whole mysterious, stoic vibe going on. Very 'mini-Levi.' I bet that's why you're so fascinated."

"Fascinated?" Levi's tone was sharp. "Don't be ridiculous. She's just another soldier."

"Oh, sure," Hange said, clearly enjoying herself. "That's why you were glancing over at her table like a lovesick—"

"Hange."

"—puppy," Hange finished triumphantly, leaning back with a laugh. "It's adorable, really. Captain Levi, the unshakable warrior, undone by a single recruit."

Levi let out a long, exasperated sigh. "You need to find a better hobby."

"Oh, but this is my hobby," Hange quipped, her eyes gleaming with amusement. "Anyway, you should do something about it. She's impressive. Smart, strong, capable. And honestly, she doesn't look at you like everyone else does—with all that fear and hero worship. She just... looks."

Levi stiffened. "And what exactly do you think I should do? Confess my undying love in the middle of the training yard?"

Hange gasped dramatically. "Now that I would pay to see!"

Levi gave her a glare so sharp it could have sliced through steel.

Hange shrugged, undeterred. "Seriously, you should lighten up. She's probably the only person here who could keep up with you. Maybe even put up with you."

Levi stood abruptly, brushing imaginary dust from his pants. "This conversation is over."

"Oh, Levi," Hange called after him as he started walking away. "Deny it all you want, but you're not immune to emotions. Maybe, just maybe, you should stop fighting them. You can't run from your feelings forever! Just don't scare her off, okay?"

Levi didn't respond. But Hange's words lingered, much to his annoyance. "She just... looks."

Hange was still laughing to herself, reveling in her own wit, when two more familiar figures came over. Isabel's eyes were practically sparkling with mischief, while Furlan trailed behind, his expression the calm before the storm—though the twitch of his lips betrayed his amusement.

"Oi, Captain Big Bro," Isabel called, hopping onto the bench Hange had vacated. "I just heard something interesting from the dining hall."

Levi didn't stop walking, but Isabel wasn't about to let him off that easily. "You were staring at Mikasa, weren't you?" she sang, grinning from ear to ear.

He froze mid-step. His back was turned, but Isabel could see the slight stiffness in his shoulders. "Who the hell told you that?"

"Oh, you know," Isabel said, waving her hand nonchalantly. "Word travels fast when you're as subtle as a rampaging Titan."

"Isabel," Furlan cut in, his tone laced with humor. "Don't exaggerate. Levi's the epitome of subtlety. I mean, it's not like he walked into the dining hall, stared at her for five minutes, and smirked when she looked his way or anything."

Isabel gasped, her hand flying to her chest in mock shock. "You smirked? Big bro, you never smirk! That's practically a declaration of love for you!"

Levi turned slowly, his expression deadpan. "You two have entirely too much free time."

"Oh, come on," Isabel teased. "It's not like we're wrong. You like her, don't you? She's strong, kinda quiet, super pretty—oh, wait!" Her grin turned devilish. "I bet you noticed her stamina during training. Imagine what that'd be like in—"

"That's enough," Levi snapped, making Isabel burst into laughter.

"Relax, bro," she said, leaning back. "I'm just saying, you've got good taste."

"Idiot," Levi muttered, turning to leave.

But Furlan wasn't finished. "You know, Levi," he said, his voice calm that made it all the more irritating, "it's not a bad thing to take an interest in someone. Especially someone like her. Isabel's right—she might be the only person who can keep up with you."

Levi shot him a glare. "Not you too."

"What? I'm just saying you could do worse," Furlan said with a chuckle. "It's not like anyone else here could handle your sparkling personality."

Hange, who was still hovering nearby, decided to pile on. "Exactly! Think of the possibilities, Levi. A dynamic duo. Humanity's strongest pair. Imagine the stories they'll tell. Oh and the babies!"

Levi pinched the bridge of his nose. "You're all insufferable."

Isabel leaned toward Furlan, smirking. "Do you think he's blushing?"

"Absolutely," Furlan replied with a nod. "You can see it in the way his ears are twitching."

Levi turned on his heel. "I'm done with this."

As he stalked away, Isabel cupped her hands around her mouth and shouted after him, "Just confess already, bro! You might actually smile for once!"

Hange and Isabel dissolved into laughter, while Furlan shook his head, his grin lingering. "He's definitely going to make us pay for this later."

"Oh, worth it," Isabel said, wiping a tear from her eye. "So worth it."

Even as Levi disappeared from view, the teasing echoed in his ears. Idiots. All of them. But the memory of Mikasa's blush, her strength, her unyielding defiance—it lingered longer than he liked.

****************************

The day had passed uneventfully, as the recruits worked through their chores and training regimens. Levi had just finished inspecting a storage area when he decided to check on the others. He strode down the corridor, the faint hum of conversation drifting in from outside.

As he rounded a corner, the sight that greeted him stopped him in his tracks.

Mikasa and Jean were standing near the stables, their figures silhouetted against the afternoon light. Jean was leaning slightly closer, his face flushed with what could only be nervous energy, while Mikasa—stoic as always—seemed to be listening, her head tilted slightly.

It wasn't just the proximity that caught Levi's attention—it was the way Jean's hand hovered awkwardly near Mikasa's arm, as though he wanted to reach out but didn't dare. Levi's eyes didn't miss the faint pink dusting Mikasa's cheeks.

What the hell is this?

A strange, hot knot twisted in his chest. He clenched his fists reflexively, his fingers curling into his gloves. He wasn't sure what irritated him more: Jean's awkward, puppy-like demeanor or the fact that Mikasa hadn't immediately shoved him away.

Levi stepped forward, his boots striking the ground harder than usual. The sharp sound echoed, and both Mikasa and Jean turned abruptly, their expressions shifting from surprise to unease.

"Don't you two have work to do?" Levi's voice clipped, his eyes narrowing as he stopped a few feet away.

Jean straightened instantly, his face draining of color. "C-Captain! We were just—uh—"

"Just wasting time, apparently," Levi cut him off, his gaze cold as steel. He turned to Mikasa, who met his stare with calm composure. "And you, Ackerman? You're slacking too?"

"We were taking a short break," Mikasa replied evenly, though her tone was slightly defensive.

"Well, break's over," Levi snapped, his irritation seeping through his words. "Get back to work. Both of you."

Jean scrambled to comply, muttering a hurried "Yes, sir!" before darting toward the main building. Mikasa hesitated for a moment, her gaze lingering on Levi before she turned and walked away.

Levi watched her retreating figure, his irritation simmering beneath the surface. Without another word, he spun on his heel and stalked back toward his office.

As he climbed the stairs, his boots striking the wood harder than necessary, his thoughts churned like a storm.

What the hell was that? Why does it even matter what they were doing? It's none of my damn business.

His steps slowed as the knot in his chest tightened. The image of Jean leaning close to Mikasa replayed in his mind, a sharp, unwelcome pang cutting through him.

Am I... jealous?

The thought hit him like a punch to the gut. He stopped at the top of the stairs, his hand gripping the banister as he stared down at the empty hallway below. The idea was absurd, ridiculous—yet undeniable.

Jealous. Of Jean. Over Mikasa.

Levi scoffed under his breath, running a hand through his dark hair as he resumed walking. His lips pressed into a thin line, his mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions.

"Get it together," he muttered to himself. But the image lingered, gnawing at the edges of his composure as he pushed open the door to his office and stepped inside.

For the first time in a long while, Levi found himself at war—not with Titans, not with soldiers, but with himself.

****************************

The change was subtle at first—barely noticeable, really. Levi's gaze lingered on Mikasa more often, but his tone when addressing her grew colder. Where once there was a faint glimmer of begrudging respect in his commands, now there was only curt detachment.

"Clean it again, Ackerman. There's dust," Levi barked, pointing to a section of the floor she had just scrubbed for the third time. His voice was as sharp and clipped as his gaze, leaving no room for argument.

Mikasa frowned but nodded, her exhaustion weighing heavily on her shoulders. Everyone else had already retreated for the night, their tasks long completed, yet here she was—again—meticulously scrubbing the same area under Levi's unrelenting scrutiny.

Why? Why just me?

It wasn't as though she didn't welcome challenges. She thrived under them. But this wasn't just training or discipline. It felt pointed. Cruel.

When she finally finished, her hands raw from the cleaning, she dared to glance at Levi. He didn't even acknowledge her this time, simply turning on his heel and leaving the room without a word. The sound of his boots clicking against the floor echoed long after he disappeared.

Later that night, Mikasa lay awake in her bunk, her scarf clutched tightly in her hand. Her body ached from the day's relentless tasks, but her mind refused to rest. Memories of the moments she had shared with Levi—moments that had felt so personal, so charged—kept resurfacing.

What happened? she thought to herself, her brows furrowing as she stared at the wooden beams above. Was it something I did? Or said?

She replayed their last few interactions in her head, looking for answers. She couldn't forget how his hands had pinned hers during their sparring match, how his voice had softened when he told her to rest, or the way his gaze had lingered on her that night in the training room.

Did I imagine it all? she wondered, the thought gnawing at her. Maybe I was just being a silly little girl, seeing something that wasn't there. Maybe he's only ever seen me as another soldier to whip into shape.

Her chest tightened at the thought. She hated how much it stung. Hated how she had let herself hope, even just a little, that there might have been something more. She hated herself for being so affected by his coldness now.

"Pull yourself together," she muttered under her breath, rolling onto her side. He's the Captain. He probably doesn't even think about it.

From his office, Levi stared out the window into the darkened courtyard. His fingers tapped rhythmically against the desk as he wrestled with the storm of thoughts swirling in his mind.

How do I fix this?

He'd been harsher on Mikasa than he intended—sharper in his tone, colder in his commands. Every time he saw her, though, the memory of her standing close to Jean, her cheeks faintly pink, surged forward like a slap to the face. And every time, it made his chest tighten in ways he didn't understand, ways he didn't want to understand.

"She's just another soldier," he muttered to himself as he leaned back in his chair. Then why does it feel different?

The truth gnawed at him, an itch he couldn't scratch. Was he punishing her for something she hadn't done? Was he letting himself feel something he swore he never would? And worse—was he taking it out on her?

"Get it together, Levi," he hissed under his breath, clenching his fists. But no matter how much he tried to rationalize it, the image of Mikasa's defiant stare and the faint blush on her cheeks wouldn't leave his mind.

Jealousy, the thought whispered, unwelcome and biting. He shoved it down as far as he could.

For now.

****************************

The next day, training grounds buzzed with activity, the clang of blades and the rhythmic whir of maneuver gear filling the air as the recruits and Levi's special squad drilled relentlessly.

Mikasa stood in formation, her posture straight and her expression neutral, but the pounding in her head was impossible to ignore. What had started as a faint ache had grown into a relentless, throbbing pain, each pulse sending sharp jolts behind her eyes. Her grip on her gear tightened, and she pressed her lips into a thin line, determined not to show any weakness.

No one can know. Especially not him.

Nearby, Eren stole a glance at her, his brow furrowed. He'd seen that look before—the stiffness in her stance, the subtle clenching of her jaw. Mikasa's headaches were rare but debilitating when they hit. It wasn't just the physical toll he worried about; it was the way she refused to slow down, the way she pushed herself until she broke.

"She doesn't look good," Eren muttered, nudging Armin, who followed his gaze to Mikasa.

Armin's concern deepened as he took in her pale complexion and the tightness in her expression. "She needs to stop," he said, his voice low. "If she keeps pushing herself..."

Before he could finish, Eren was already stepping forward, his determination outweighing his hesitation. "Captain Levi!" he called out.

Levi was perched on a stack of crates, his posture deceptively relaxed but his eyes keenly scanning the training field. His expression shifted slightly, an eyebrow arching at Eren's interruption. "What?"

"Mikasa's not feeling well," Eren said, his tone firm but respectful. "She gets these headaches sometimes—they're bad. She shouldn't be training like this."

Armin joined him, his voice quieter but just as resolute. "It's true. If she keeps going, it could get worse. Maybe she could rest for a bit and join later?"

Levi's gaze flicked between them, his expression cold.

"Is that so?" Levi said finally, his voice cutting through the tension. "And I suppose you two are her personal physicians now?"

Eren stiffened, his fists clenching at Levi's dismissive tone. "I'm just saying—"

"Don't," Levi interrupted. He rose from the crates in one fluid motion, his boots crunching against the dirt as he approached. "She's a soldier. Not a child. Headache or not, she has a job to do."

"But Captain—" Armin started, his voice hesitant.

"Enough," Levi snapped, his tone low and final. His eyes narrowed, a warning glint flashing in them. "Do you think Titans care about her headaches? Do you think the battlefield will pause for her to rest? If she can't handle a little discomfort, she has no business being here."

Eren's frustration boiling under his skin. "That's not fair—"

Levi's glare silenced him instantly. "Get back to training, both of you," he ordered, "before I decide to add extra drills for wasting my time."

Eren's fists trembled at his sides, but he held his tongue, his eyes burning with defiance. Armin tugged at his sleeve, silently urging him to back down. Reluctantly, Eren turned away.

As they walked back to their positions, Armin glanced over his shoulder, his heart sinking as he saw Mikasa take up her gear again, her posture as rigid as ever. "This isn't right," he muttered.

"It's not," Eren agreed, his voice low and seething. "But we can't do anything. Not with him in charge."

On the other side of the training grounds, Levi's gaze lingered on Mikasa for a beat longer than necessary. She hadn't flinched during their exchange, hadn't even looked toward her friends for support. Instead, she had shouldered her gear without complaint and stepped back into the fray.

Stubborn, Levi thought, his eyes narrowing. But she'll learn.

Mikasa was assigned to spar with Levi's special squad—a daunting challenge with the relentless throbbing in her head. The dull ache behind her eyes had grown into a sharp, pounding rhythm that threatened to consume her focus. She gritted her teeth, pushing through the fog as Petra came at her with a flurry of precise strikes. Mikasa deflected, her movements slower than usual, but she refused to falter.

"Come on, Mikasa," Petra said. "Stay sharp."

Mikasa barely managed to counter the next blow, her legs shaking under the strain. Sweat dripped down her temple, blurring her vision as she moved to block Gunther's sudden advance. His strikes were powerful, calculated, each one forcing her to retreat. Her head throbbed violently with each step, the world tilting slightly as she struggled to stay upright.

"Is that all you've got?" Gunther asked, his tone neutral but his strikes unrelenting. Mikasa couldn't afford to respond—not when Eld lunged at her next, his blade aimed to disarm.

She dodged instinctively, her body moving out of sheer muscle memory, but her breathing was labored, each inhale like fire in her chest. Just a little longer, she told herself, her fists clenching tighter. I can't stop. Not now.

From the sidelines, Isabel's concerned gaze never left Mikasa. She leaned closer to Furlan, her voice low but urgent. "She doesn't look good."

"She's pushing herself too hard," Furlan replied, his brow furrowed. "But you know Levi. He won't call it off."

Mikasa staggered slightly as Oluo took his turn, his attacks quick and taunting. He circled her like a predator, his smirk infuriating. "Come on, Ackerman," he sneered, swinging his blade toward her ribs. "You're supposed to be the prodigy, right? Don't disappoint."

Her arms felt like lead as she parried his strike, her vision swimming. She could hear her heartbeat in her ears, drowning out the sound of his mocking voice. Oluo's next blow forced her to her knees, but she scrambled up before he could gloat, her pride barely holding her together.

Isabel's jaw tightened, her concern morphing into anger. She couldn't stand watching this anymore. As soon as Levi called an end to the session, she stormed toward him, planting herself firmly in his path.

"You're being cruel, big bro," she snapped, her green eyes blazing. "She's clearly not okay."

Levi, his expression as impassive as ever, glanced at her briefly before turning away. "She's fine."

"She's not fine!" Isabel's voice rose, drawing a few glances from the squad. She stepped in front of him again, refusing to let him brush her off. "You're treating her like she's a machine. Look at her!"

Levi's gaze flicked toward Mikasa, who was slumped against the wall, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. Her hand clutched at her temple for a moment before she forced it back to her side, as if refusing to show weakness. Her face was pale, her eyes glassy with pain, but she still didn't complain.

"She's a soldier," Levi said coldly, stepping around Isabel. "If she can't handle it, she doesn't belong here."

Isabel's fists clenched, her voice trembling with frustration. "You don't have to treat her like this. She's doing her best, but you're going too far."

Levi didn't respond. He turned and walked away, leaving Isabel seething. She glanced back at Mikasa, her heart sinking at the sight.

Mikasa sat against the wall, her head leaning back as she tried to steady her breathing. Every pulse in her temples felt like a hammer striking her skull. She didn't move to join the others, didn't even look up as Isabel approached and crouched beside her.

"Hey," Isabel said softly, her voice losing its usual spark. "You okay?"

Mikasa nodded faintly, though the movement made her wince. "I'm fine."

Isabel frowned, seeing right through the lie. "You should rest. You're going to make yourself worse."

Mikasa's lips twitched into a faint, bitter smile. "I don't think that's an option."

Isabel glanced over her shoulder at Levi's retreating form. Big bro, you're being an ass.

****************************

Mikasa barely had time to recover before Levi assigned her to clean the stables—a filthy, exhausting task that no one enjoyed. Mikasa's headache pulsed relentlessly, but she refused to let it slow her down. The stables smelled of hay, sweat, and manure, the stench only worsening as the warm afternoon dragged on. She gripped the shovel tightly, muscles aching as she worked to clear out the stalls. Her uniform was already stained with sweat and grime, but she pushed through, her motions mechanical and deliberate.

If I stop, he'll just give me more work, she thought bitterly, her teeth grinding together. Levi's voice from earlier echoed in her head, cold and unyielding as he dismissed her pain like it was nothing.

As if he cares about anyone but his own damn rules.

She bent down to pick up another pile of manure, the shovel biting into the dirt. Her frustration bubbled to the surface as she muttered under her breath, "I wish you would choke on your cravat."

The sound of boots crunching on dirt made her stiffen. She froze mid-motion, dread creeping up her spine. Slowly, she turned her head, her heart sinking as she saw him standing there.

Levi.

"Unfortunately for you, Ackerman," his voice cut through the stable like a blade, low and calm but dripping with a quiet authority, "wishes don't come true."

Mikasa's eyes widened in shock before narrowing into a glare. Her fingers tightened around the shovel, her knuckles whitening. Does he have supersonic hearing or something? she thought incredulously, biting back the urge to snap back at him.

Levi's eyes flicked to the shovel in her hands before locking onto her face, and for a moment. Then, as if to twist the knife further, a faint, infuriating smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.

"Since you're so good at wishing for my demise," he said coolly, "you can clean the kitchen too. When you're done here."

Her jaw tightened, anger coursing through her veins. The throbbing in her head blurred into the background, overshadowed by the searing heat of her frustration. She watched as Levi turned on his heel and walked away, the sound of his boots fading into the distance.

The resentment she had tried to push down these past days surged forward like a tidal wave.

What was I even thinking?

The memory of her earlier feelings—those quiet, embarrassing thoughts about him—filled her with humiliation. She had thought there was something between them, something unspoken in their shared moments. But now, as she stood in the filth of the stables, her body aching and her dignity trampled, she realized how naive she'd been.

I was stupid. Foolish enough to think he saw me as anything other than another pawn to push around.

Her grip on the shovel tightened, her nails digging into the wood. He's not untouchable. He's not perfect. He's a tyrant. A cold, arrogant tyrant who hides behind his rules and acts like he's above everyone else.

The thought of his smirk, the condescension in his tone, made her blood boil. One day, she thought fiercely, I'll make him pay. For every insult, for every punishment, for treating me like I'm nothing.

Mikasa forced herself to keep shoveling, her movements sharp and angry, each scoop of manure feeling like a battle against her own fury. She wouldn't let him win. Not now, not ever.

As she finished the stall and moved to the next, her thoughts simmered, dark and determined. Keep pushing me, Levi. Just see what happens.

When Mikasa finally joined the others in the dining hall later, her exhaustion was obvious. The chatter among the group quieted as they noticed her slumped posture and the dirt smudged across her uniform.

"Hey, Mikasa," Connie said, his voice hesitant. "Are you okay? Captain's been on your case lately."

Jean nodded. "Yeah, it's like he's got it out for you. What did you do to piss him off?"

Mikasa shook her head, forcing a neutral expression. "I don't know. He's just treating me like any other soldier."

"Like hell he is," Sasha muttered, scooting closer to Mikasa. She leaned in, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Is this about what happened that night in the training room?"

Mikasa's stomach twisted at the question. She shook her head quickly. "No. It's nothing."

Sasha gave her a skeptical look but didn't press further. Instead, she offered a small smile and a piece of bread from her plate. "Here. You need this more than I do."

Mikasa hesitated before taking it, a hint of a smile crossing her lips. "Thanks."

****************************

The next day, from the upper level of the training hall, Levi leaned against the railing, his gaze fixed on the group below. Mikasa sat slumped on the bench, her exhaustion clear from the way her head drooped and her arms hung limply at her sides. Her friends gathered around her, their voices low but concerned.

Eren stood to one side, frustration etched into his features, while Armin hovered protectively. Levi's eyes narrowed when Jean stepped closer, his hand resting lightly on Mikasa's shoulder. She didn't react. No sharp look, no shrug to push him away.

That's not like her.

His grip on the railing tightened. Usually, she'd have flicked him off like a gnat by now. What's stopping her?

Levi told himself it was nothing. She was tired, nothing more. But the longer Jean's hand lingered, the harder it became to convince himself. It was irritating, inexplicably so, like an itch he couldn't scratch.

Get your damn hand off her, Kirstein.

The thought surged with surprising intensity, and Levi forced himself to exhale slowly. He was being ridiculous. She was a soldier under his command. Whatever she did—or didn't do—was none of his concern. None of it matters.

But when his gaze fell back on her, slumped and silent, he felt the flicker of something he didn't want to name. She didn't even notice him. For all her sharpness, her uncanny ability to sense things most others missed, she didn't look up. That bothered him, too.

Levi turned abruptly, his boots clicking against the floor as he strode away. He told himself he was just annoyed at the group's lack of discipline, that they shouldn't be wasting time hovering over one cadet.

That's all it is. Just annoyance.

Later in the day, Mikasa trudged through the uneven cobblestone streets of town. Her head throbbed mercilessly, the ache pounding at the base of her skull and radiating behind her eyes. Each step felt heavier than the last, but she forced herself forward, unwilling to falter under the weight of exhaustion and pain.

The errands Levi had assigned her were straightforward enough—fetch tools, stock supplies, confirm orders for materials needed back at the headquarters. But the simplicity of the task did little to mask its intent. It was punishment, plain and simple, thinly disguised as necessity.

Her fists clenched as she thought of his voice, clipped and cold. "She'll manage." The way he'd dismissed Eren and Armin's offers to help her only added to the sting. It wasn't just the words—it was the way he said them, the way he looked at her.

The bustling market offered no reprieve. The noise of merchants shouting their wares, children darting through the crowds, and the constant shuffle of feet grated against her already frazzled nerves. She moved mechanically, ticking items off the list in her hand while navigating the chaos around her. The vendors spoke to her in polite tones, but their words barely registered. All she could focus on was the relentless thrum in her head and the gnawing anger simmering just beneath the surface.

The final stop was a small tool shop tucked into a corner of the market. The shopkeeper, an older man with a kind smile, greeted her warmly, but even his friendliness felt grating in her current state.

"You alright, miss?" he asked as he handed her the final package.

Mikasa nodded tersely, her voice curt. "Fine."

He hesitated but didn't press further, watching with mild concern as she stepped back out into the crowded street, her arms laden with supplies.

The sky had darkened further, the distant rumble of thunder promising rain. She quickened her pace, weaving through the throngs of people as best she could. The weight of the packages pressed into her arms, the ache in her head growing sharper with every passing second. Just a little further, she told herself. Just get back, and it'll be over.

She didn't see the cart coming until it was too late.

A heavy wagon rolled through a puddle near the edge of the street, sending a spray of murky water arcing through the air. Mikasa barely had time to register what was happening before the freezing splash hit her, drenching her from head to toe.

Her breath caught, the cold water biting into her skin and soaking through her clothes. She stood there, stunned, as the world around her continued to move without pause. People passed by, some casting her curious glances, others not even sparing her a second look.

For a moment, she simply stared down at herself. Her uniform clung to her frame, her boots squelching uncomfortably with every small movement. Strands of wet hair stuck to her cheeks, and droplets of water dripped from her chin onto the packages in her arms.

The sharp sting of humiliation mixed with the ache in her head and the ever-present frustration that had been building for days. It all came to a boil, the emotions swirling together until they overflowed.

Her hands trembled, her knuckles whitening as she gripped the edges of the packages tighter. Her breathing quickened, her jaw tightening as her vision blurred—not from tears, but from sheer, unrelenting anger.

I'm done.

Without giving herself time to reconsider, she turned sharply on her heel and began the march back to headquarters.

****************************

Levi sat at his desk, the usual monotony of reports and supply lists failing to distract him from the simmering frustration that had gripped him all day. The scratch of his pen against the parchment was the only sound in the room until the door burst open with a thunderous bang.

His head snapped up, his eyes locking onto Mikasa as she stormed in. She didn't hesitate or waver, her boots thudding heavily against the wooden floor as she crossed the room. The door swung shut behind her with a resounding click, sealing the two of them in suffocating silence.

Levi's hand stilled, his pen hovering mid-air. Mikasa stood before his desk, her shoulders heaving with exertion, her damp uniform clinging to her frame. Strands of dark hair were plastered to her face, her cheeks flushed, her eyes rimmed with exhaustion yet blazing with fury.

Without a word, she dumped the bag of supplies onto his desk, the thud reverberating in the small room. A few papers scattered to the floor, but Mikasa didn't flinch.

"I wish and hope you would choke on that damn cravat, you tyrant," she spat, her voice sharp and unwavering.

The words hung in the air, heavy and charged. Levi leaned back in his chair. The silence between them stretched taut, crackling with an energy neither of them dared name.

Mikasa wasn't done. Her fists clenched at her sides as she stepped closer, her voice rising. "I know you probably have another punishment lined up—cleaning the barracks, the stables, something else equally demeaning. But you know what? I don't care. I came prepared." Her breaths were shallow and ragged, her chest rising and falling with the force of her emotions. "I don't know why you're being so cruel to me, Captain, but if I'm going to have to endure it anyway, I might as well tell you exactly what I think."

Levi stood slowly, each movement slow and precise. He rounded the desk with the quiet authority of a predator stalking its prey, his gaze never leaving hers. The closer he got, the heavier the air seemed to grow, the space between them shrinking until it was suffocating.

When he stopped just inches from her, towering over her, Mikasa tilted her head up, refusing to back down despite the storm in his eyes. The proximity was almost unbearable, her heart pounding so loudly she was sure he could hear it.

"Say that again," Levi murmured, his voice low and deadly. Before she could react, he grabbed her wrists and pinned them above her head, backing her into the wall in one fluid motion.

The impact was gentle, but the intensity of his movements left no room for misinterpretation. His grip on her wrists was firm, his fingers encircling them like iron. His body was close—too close. Mikasa could feel the heat radiating from him.

"You don't know what you've done?" Levi's voice was a growl. His eyes bore into hers, unyielding and relentless. "Or were you too busy letting Kirstein hang all over you at the stables to notice?"

Mikasa's breath hitched, her brows knitting together in confusion and fury. "What are you even talking about?"

"Don't play dumb," he snapped, his voice colder now. "I saw you. The way he touched you, the way you just stood there and let him."

Her anger surged, red-hot and undeniable. "Jean and I were cleaning the stables, you idiot!" she shot back, her voice trembling with indignation. "I was exhausted, and he was trying to help me. That's all it was."

Levi faltered, the fire in his eyes dimming as her words hit him. His grip loosened slightly, his gaze flickering across her face as if searching for any hint of a lie. But there was nothing—only the raw truth shining through her anger.

The realization hit him like a blow, the weight of his mistake settling heavily in his chest. He'd been wrong. Completely, painfully wrong. And worse, he'd let his own emotions blind him to the truth.

Mikasa's defiance faltered as her body sagged against the wall, exhaustion finally overtaking her. Her face twisted slightly, a flicker of pain crossing her features as she whispered, "You're hurting me."

Levi's gaze went to her wrists, his breath catching at the sight of the angry purple bruises forming under his fingers. His hands released her immediately, stepping back as though her skin had burned him.

"Mikasa, I—" he began, his voice softer than she'd ever heard it.

But she didn't wait to hear whatever excuse or apology he might have had. She pushed past him, her shoulder brushing against his as she stormed out of the office without another word. The door swung shut behind her, leaving Levi rooted to the spot, staring blankly at his hands.

The room felt colder without her in it. He flexed his fingers, the phantom sensation of her skin lingering like a mark he couldn't wash away. Guilt clawed at his chest, sharp and unrelenting.

What the hell is wrong with me?

Chapter Text

The hallways of the headquarters were eerily quiet, the kind of silence that made every creak of the floorboards echo. The dim glow of lanterns flickered against the stone walls, casting long shadows that danced with the faint breeze from the cracked windows.

Mikasa trudged slowly, clutching a small pouch of medicine in her hand. The ache in her head had dulled briefly when she retrieved the medicine, but now it returned with a vengeance. Her other hand gripped the wall for balance, her breaths coming in short, shallow gasps.

She reached a midpoint in the corridor and stopped. Her vision swam, and the ground felt unsteady beneath her feet. Mikasa pressed her palm harder against the wall as if the cool surface could anchor her. But the pain surged again, and she slid down until she was sitting against the stone, her knees drawn up and her head resting lightly against them.

The pouch of medicine fell from her grasp, landing with a soft thud beside her.

Levi rounded the corner, his boots soft against the floor as he headed back to his quarters. His day had been unusually long, filled with inspections, drills, and... regrets. He couldn't shake the memory of Mikasa storming into his office, her fiery gaze burning into his as she'd lashed out at him. Her words had struck deeper than he wanted to admit.

"I wish and hope you choke on that damn cravat, you tyrant."

The image of her red-rimmed eyes and trembling fists replayed in his mind like a broken record. He wasn't used to feeling guilt, not like this. It gnawed at him, much like the look on her face when she left his office.

When Levi spotted a figure slumped against the wall ahead, his eyes narrowed. He recognized her instantly—the dark hair framing her face, the way she held herself even in weakness. His heart sank slightly, an unfamiliar pang stirring in his chest.

Ackerman? What the hell are you doing here?

He approached cautiously, his footsteps slowing when he noticed her stillness. The memory of Eren and Armin's earlier protests surfaced unbidden.

"Her headaches can get pretty bad."
"If she pushes too hard, it gets worse."

At the time, he'd dismissed their concerns as exaggerations. Soldiers didn't have the luxury of stopping for a headache. But now, seeing her sitting there, her head resting on her knees, he wondered if they hadn't been lying after all.

He was about to call her name, to step forward, when a rustling sound behind him caught his attention.

Sasha emerged from the far end of the hallway, clutching a small cloth bundle to her chest. The unmistakable scent of freshly baked bread and smoked meat wafted through the air. She froze mid-step when she spotted Mikasa, her eyes widening.

"Mikasa?" Sasha's voice was soft, but it carried enough concern to cut through the quiet. She hurried over, her stolen midnight snack momentarily forgotten. Kneeling beside Mikasa, she gently placed a hand on her shoulder. "Hey, what's wrong? You okay?"

Mikasa stirred slightly, lifting her head just enough for Sasha to see the strain in her expression. "I'm fine," Mikasa murmured, though her voice was weak. "Just... tired."

Sasha frowned, her gaze darting to the pouch of medicine on the floor. "Tired? Mikasa, you look like you're about to pass out. Come on, let's get you back to the room."

Levi stood a few paces away, watching silently as Sasha looped an arm under Mikasa's shoulders and helped her to her feet. Mikasa leaned against her, too drained to protest.

For a brief moment, Levi considered stepping in, offering to help, but Sasha seemed to have it under control. Besides, he knew Mikasa wouldn't want his help. Not now. Not after everything.

He stayed rooted in place as Sasha led Mikasa down the hall. When they disappeared around the corner, Levi turned and walked away, his expression unreadable but his thoughts anything but calm.

So they weren't lying after all.

****************************

Sasha eased Mikasa onto her bed, the mattress creaking slightly under her weight. She grabbed a clean towel and a glass of water from the small table in the corner before sitting down on the edge of Mikasa's bed.

"Drink," Sasha said gently but firmly, handing her the glass. "You'll feel a little better."

Mikasa accepted it reluctantly, her hands trembling slightly as she took a few sips. The cool water soothed her throat, but the tension in her chest lingered. The silence between them stretched for a moment, broken only by the soft rustling of Sasha's stolen stash as she pulled out a slice of bread.

"I thought you were asleep," Mikasa said finally, her voice quiet and flat.

"Pfft, sleep?" Sasha smirked, tearing off a piece of bread and popping it into her mouth. "I was on a highly classified mission. The kitchen had fresh bread tonight, and you know I couldn't let that slide." Her grin faltered slightly as she studied Mikasa's pale face. "But seriously, you don't look good. You've been pushing yourself way too hard."

"I'm fine," Mikasa replied stiffly, her gaze fixed on the glass in her hands. "I just needed medicine. The headache will go away."

Sasha's skeptical expression deepened. "Mikasa... is this about Captain Levi? The way he's been acting toward you?"

Mikasa flinched slightly, her fingers tightening around the glass. "No," she said, a little too quickly. "It's nothing."

Sasha wasn't buying it. She scooted closer, her eyes narrowing. "It's not nothing. Ever since that day in the training room, he's been acting like—well, honestly, like a jerk. Did something happen between you two?"

Mikasa hesitated, her lips pressing into a thin line. She could feel Sasha's earnest gaze on her, and despite herself, the words spilled out. "Earlier today, I... I stormed into his office." Her voice was low, almost hesitant. "I was angry—at him, at everything. I said some things I probably shouldn't have, and he... he accused me of something ridiculous."

"What did he accuse you of?" Sasha asked, her tone a mix of concern and curiosity.

Mikasa let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head. "He thought there was something going on between me and Jean. As if I'd ever—" She cut herself off, her frustration palpable. "It was absurd. I told him it wasn't true, but it didn't seem to matter. He's been treating me like this ever since."

Sasha blinked, her jaw dropping slightly. "Wait. Wait, wait, wait. He thought you and Jean—" She paused, then her gaze fell on Mikasa's wrist as she gestured, catching sight of faint red marks around it. "Mikasa... what's that on your wrist?"

Mikasa's eyes widened in alarm as Sasha reached out to take her hand. She pulled it back quickly, yanking her sleeve down to hide the marks. "It's nothing," she said defensively.

Sasha frowned, her concern deepening. "Did Captain Levi do this?" she asked cautiously.

"No," Mikasa said firmly, cutting her off. "It's not what you think." Her gaze dropped, her voice softening slightly. "It's nothing."

But her own words stirred a flicker of something in her mind. Her pulse quickened as she remembered Levi's hands pinning her wrists to the wall, the intense closeness of his gaze as he loomed over her. She felt her cheeks flush faintly, the memory bringing back the conflicting emotions that had left her rattled—the frustration, the heat, the unspoken tension.

Mikasa's blush deepened, but her expression soon hardened as the weight of his cruelty came crashing back. The way he had dismissed her, punished her, humiliated her—it was like a blade twisting in her chest. Her jaw tightened, her brows furrowing as anger flickered behind her eyes.

"Mikasa?" Sasha asked softly, her brow furrowed as she watched the shift in her friend's expression.

Mikasa forced herself to take a breath, shaking her head as if to banish the thoughts. "It doesn't matter," she said finally, setting the glass aside.

Sasha hesitated but didn't push further. "Okay," she said quietly. "But... you know, he might've thought that because he was jealous."

Mikasa's head snapped up, her eyes narrowing. "Jealous? That's ridiculous."

"It's not ridiculous," Sasha said, though her tone was careful. "Think about it. Why else would he care if you and Jean were... you know?" She made a vague gesture with her hands.

"If he cared," Mikasa said, cutting her off, "he wouldn't be so cruel. He wouldn't go out of his way to humiliate me, to push me past my limits every single day. That's not jealousy. That's just..." She trailed off, searching for the right word. "That's spite."

Sasha frowned, her laughter fading. "Maybe he doesn't know how to deal with it. Maybe he's just... scared or confused. People are weird when it comes to feelings, you know?"

Mikasa scoffed softly, shaking her head. "He doesn't have feelings for me, Sasha. If he did, he wouldn't treat me like this. He wouldn't make me feel like..." She paused, her voice trembling slightly. "Like I'm nothing."

Sasha reached out, placing a comforting hand on Mikasa's arm. "You're not nothing, Mikasa. And I don't think Levi thinks that either. Maybe he's just bad at... well, everything emotional. You should talk to him. Clear the air."

Mikasa shook her head. "And say what? That he's been unfair? That he's made me feel like a burden? He won't listen. And even if he does, what then? What if I'm wrong? What if he doesn't care at all?" She looked down, her voice dropping to a whisper. "I can't give him another reason to push me away."

Sasha sighed, squeezing Mikasa's arm gently. "I get it. I do. But... if you don't say anything, nothing will change. Maybe it's scary, but it's worth it to try. You're one of the strongest people I know, Mikasa. You can handle this."

Mikasa offered a faint, tired smile, though her eyes were still clouded with doubt. "Thanks, Sasha."

Sasha grinned, patting her arm before standing and brushing crumbs off her lap. "Anytime. Now get some rest, okay? You need it."

As Sasha climbed into her own bed, Mikasa leaned back against her pillow, staring up at the ceiling. The pounding in her head was fading, but Sasha's words echoed in her mind, tugging at something deep inside her.

It's over.

Her eyes drifted shut, the memory of Levi's cold gaze and the bruises on her wrists made her chest tighten. Talking to him felt like standing at the edge of a cliff, and she wasn't sure she was ready to jump.

****************************

Levi sat at the edge of his bed, the room cloaked in shadows. The faint moonlight seeped through the half-closed blinds, casting slanted lines across the sparsely decorated space. He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, and rubbed a hand across his face, a long sigh escaping him.

The events of the evening replayed in his mind, unbidden and relentless.

He could still see her—Mikasa—slumped against the hallway wall, her face pale and drawn, her fingers clutching her temple. That headache. Eren and Armin weren't lying after all. He cursed himself silently for dismissing them so coldly. They'd tried to tell him, but his pride—or whatever the hell it was—had refused to listen.

Tch. Idiot.

His jaw clenched, and his hand dropped to his side, curling into a fist. He hadn't approached her, hadn't said anything, because Sasha had intervened, helping Mikasa back to her room before he could move. He told himself that was why he'd walked away. She didn't need him. She had Sasha. She didn't want him.

But the image of the red marks on her wrists—marks he had left—refused to leave his mind. Her pain had been visible, yet she hadn't flinched. She hadn't complained. And what had he done? Pushed her harder. Made her work until she broke. For what? Some ridiculous misunderstanding born out of jealousy he wouldn't even admit to himself?

Jealousy. The word made his stomach churn.

He stood abruptly, pacing the length of the room. His boots thudded against the wooden floor, each step echoing in the stillness. His mind was at war with itself, the memories of her defiance, her anger, her exhaustion gnawing at his conscience.

You should apologize. The thought whispered to him like a taunt, threading through the layers of his pride.

His lips pressed into a thin line, his pace quickening. He hated apologies. They were messy, complicated. They opened doors he didn't want to step through. And yet... he couldn't deny the weight in his chest, the way it tightened every time he thought about how she'd stormed out of his office, how he'd hurt her—not just physically, but in a way that felt deeper.

"Damn it," he muttered under his breath, running a hand through his dark hair. He stopped pacing and leaned against the wall, his gaze flicking to the moonlit window. What would he even say? Sorry for being an ass? Sorry for accusing you of something you didn't do? Sorry for bruising your wrists and treating you like you're nothing when you're clearly more than that?

The words felt heavy, foreign, impossible. He didn't know how to apologize, not in a way that didn't feel hollow. And yet, the image of her sitting alone in that hallway, her strength crumbling under the weight of everything he'd piled on her, clawed at him.

She deserved better.

But what could he give her? An apology wouldn't erase what he'd done. It wouldn't fix the marks on her wrists or the anger in her voice when she'd confronted him. It wouldn't change the fact that he'd been wrong—about her, about everything.

His hand tightened into a fist at his side, his knuckles whitening. You're just a soldier, Levi. A weapon. What the hell do you know about making things right?

But the memory of her eyes—bright with fire even in her exhaustion—flashed through his mind, and something in him shifted. Maybe he couldn't fix it. Maybe he'd already done too much damage. But the thought of letting it fester, of letting her continue to think he didn't care, was unbearable.

Levi pushed off the wall. He crossed the room and sank into the chair by his desk, leaning back with a long exhale. His thoughts churned, loud and unrelenting.

I should say something. But what?

The silence offered no answers, only the quiet hum of his own doubts. For the first time in years, Levi felt unsure. And it pissed him off.

****************************

The morning sun filtered weakly through the grimy windows, casting uneven patches of light across the courtyard. Recruits bustled about. Mikasa moved through the chaos, a bundle of supplies balanced effortlessly in her arms. Her expression was stoic as always, but there was a weariness in the set of her shoulders that didn't escape Levi's notice.

Levi stood on the steps of the main building, watching her with his usual piercing gaze. His thoughts were far less composed than his expression.

She looks like hell. His jaw tightened. Not that I'm one to talk.

The memory of their confrontation in his office played on a loop in his mind, accompanied by the image of the faint bruises on her wrists. He'd been an ass—he knew it. Now he had to... do something. Not apologize outright—he wasn't suicidal—but something.

As Mikasa passed by, Levi stepped forward, his boots crunching on the gravel. The noise was enough to catch her attention, though she didn't slow her stride.

"Captain," she said curtly, not bothering to look at him as she adjusted the supplies in her arms.

"Wait."

Mikasa stopped, turning to face him with her typical calm but guarded expression. Her dark eyes met his, unreadable and piercing.

"What is it?" she asked, her tone polite but distant.

Levi glanced at the supplies she carried, then back at her face. "You don't need to handle the storage today. I've reassigned it."

Her brows furrowed slightly, but she didn't respond immediately. "But—"

"Go help Hange with the inventory instead," Levi interrupted, folding his arms over his chest. "It's less physically demanding."

Mikasa blinked, clearly thrown off by the sudden change in orders. "Why?" she asked bluntly, suspicion creeping into her tone.

Levi shifted uncomfortably, his fingers tapping against his arm. "Does there need to be a reason? You've been working non-stop. Take the damn order."

The words came out sharper than he intended, and he winced internally. Smooth, Levi. Real smooth.

Mikasa stared at him, clearly unconvinced. Her grip on the supplies tightened as she tried to read between the lines. Was this some kind of setup? Another test? Or... was he actually trying to lighten her load?

"Understood, Captain," she said finally, her voice clipped. She turned on her heel, clearly intending to leave, but Levi's voice stopped her again.

"Ackerman." His tone was quieter this time, almost hesitant. "How's your head?"

Mikasa froze mid-step, her breath hitching slightly. She turned back slowly, her expression carefully neutral but her eyes narrowing just a fraction. "It's fine," she said, her voice steadier than she felt.

Levi nodded once, though it was more of a jerky motion than his usual crisp movements. "Good."

There was a beat of silence, thick with unspoken tension. Levi's mouth opened slightly, as if he wanted to say something more, but then he closed it again, his lips pressing into a thin line. Instead, he gave her one last glance before turning and walking away.

Mikasa stood there for a moment, staring after him, her mind racing. What was that?

Back in his office, Levi sat at his desk, staring blankly at a stack of reports. His pen hovered over the paper, unmoving, as his mind replayed the awkward exchange in the courtyard.

Tch. That was pathetic. He leaned back in his chair, rubbing a hand over his face. "How's your head?" Really? That's the best you could come up with?

He sighed, crossing his arms and glaring at the wall as if it had personally offended him. Apologies weren't his thing—he'd never been good at them. But the memory of Mikasa and the exhausted look in her eyes gnawed at him.

She didn't believe me. Not that I blame her.

The silence in the room was suffocating, broken only by the faint creak of his chair as he shifted uncomfortably. He thought of how she'd stiffened when he spoke to her, the guarded way she looked at him now. It was a stark contrast to the fiery defiance she'd shown before.

Levi pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering under his breath. "Idiot." Both of them were too damn stubborn for their own good.

The sound of someone walking past his door startled him out of his thoughts. He sat up straighter, his expression snapping back to its usual stoic mask. The footsteps stopped, and a familiar voice rang out as the door creaked open.

"Ohohohoh, I saw that!" Isabel's mischievous grin appeared before her face did, as she peeked inside. "Captain, I gotta say, that was some top-tier awkwardness back there."

Levi groaned inwardly, pinching the bridge of his nose again. "What the hell do you want, Isabel?"

She stepped fully into the room, shutting the door behind her with an exaggerated flourish. "Oh, nothing much. Just here to check on my big bro after his... interesting attempt at being, uh, nice?" She plopped herself down in the chair across from him, her grin wide enough to rival the moon. "You really said, 'How's your head?' That's it?"

Levi glared at her, though the effect was somewhat dampened by the faint twitch of his eyebrow. "Do you have nothing better to do?"

"Not when you're giving me material like this," Isabel shot back, leaning forward with her elbows on the desk. "Seriously, though, what was that? Are you trying to apologize or...?"

"There's nothing to apologize for," Levi said flatly, his tone clipped. "She's a soldier. She can handle herself."

"Uh-huh." Isabel's tone was dripping with sarcasm. "Because that's why you reassigned her to lighter duties today, right? Totally treating her like everyone else."

Levi's glare deepened, but Isabel didn't flinch. If anything, her grin widened.

"You're hopeless," she said, shaking her head in mock despair. "If you're trying to fix things, you've gotta do better. This 'stoic tough guy' routine? Not cutting it."

"I don't need your advice," Levi muttered, leaning back in his chair.

"Oh, sure you don't," Isabel said, smirking. "Because clearly, your brilliant approach of 'How's your head?' worked wonders."

Levi's jaw tightened. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Sure you don't." Isabel winked, standing up and brushing imaginary dust off her pants. "But hey, if you ever do decide to stop being an emotionally constipated workaholic, you know where to find me. I'm an expert in apologies, you know."

"Out," Levi said, pointing to the door.

Isabel laughed, throwing her hands up in surrender. "Fine, fine. But seriously, big bro—think about it. You're good at a lot of things, but this? You suck at it."

She shot him one last teasing grin before sauntering out of the room, leaving the door ajar behind her.

Levi stared at the empty doorway for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then, with a faint sigh, he picked up his pen and returned to his reports.

I don't need her advice. I'm fine.

But as the minutes ticked by, Isabel's words lingered in his mind, irritatingly persistent.

You've gotta do better.

Mikasa set the supplies down in the storage room and leaned against the wall, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. His words replayed in her mind: "How's your head?"

It wasn't much—just a simple question. But coming from Levi, it felt... strange. Almost out of place. And the reassignment? That was even stranger.

What is he doing? she thought, her brows knitting together. Is he trying to make up for everything? Or is this just another game?

Her fingers brushed against her wrists, where faint bruises still lingered beneath her sleeves. The memory of his grip and the intensity in his eyes resurfaced, sending an involuntary shiver down her spine. She clenched her fists, her jaw tightening.

If he thinks this is enough to fix things... he's wrong.

The door to the storage room creaked open, and Sasha slipped in, her expression lighting up the moment she spotted Mikasa.

"There you are!" Sasha said, her grin already spreading wide. "I just saw something so painfully awkward, I had to come and laugh about it with you."

Mikasa sighed, leaning her head back against the wall. "Let me guess... Captain Levi?"

"Of course! Who else?" Sasha giggled, plopping down on a nearby crate. "That whole 'How's your head?' thing? Oh, I almost burst out laughing right there in the courtyard."

Mikasa let out a low groan, pressing her palms to her face. "How is it that you're always in the wrong place at the wrong time?"

"Hey, I'm not the only one!" Sasha said with a knowing look, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "You might want to watch your back. Isabel saw the whole thing too."

Mikasa's hands dropped, her expression twisting into one of pure mortification. "Oh, great. Just what I wanted!" she said sarcastically, throwing her hands up. "I'm sure she'll keep it subtle and won't bring it up at all."

Sasha snorted, doubling over in laughter. "Oh yeah, Isabel's the queen of subtlety. Don't worry about it. It's not like she's probably bugging the captain right now!"

Mikasa shot her a flat look, but the corner of her mouth twitched slightly despite herself. "You're terrible."

Sasha straightened up, wiping a tear from her eye. "Only because it's too funny! But..." Her tone shifted slightly, becoming more serious. "What do you think of it? You know, his... attempt at fixing things?"

Mikasa's small smile vanished. She folded her arms tighter across her chest, her expression hardening. "It's nothing," she said, her voice cold. "A reassignment and a half-hearted question don't make up for what he's done. It doesn't change anything."

Sasha studied her for a moment, her expression thoughtful. "You don't really believe that, do you? Maybe he doesn't know how to apologize. I mean, come on, this is Captain Levi we're talking about. Subtlety and emotional intelligence aren't exactly his strong suits."

Mikasa shook her head, looking away. "Even if that's true... it doesn't matter. He's the one who pushed me away, made it clear that I don't mean anything to him. I'm not giving him another chance to hurt me."

The evening settled in. Mikasa, still nursing a dull ache in her head, was busy securing the last of the ODM gear onto the storage racks. She'd expected a long night ahead; the duty roster for night watch had been posted that morning, and her name had been right at the top.

As she finished tightening the straps, Isabel came bounding into the room, her usual energy radiating despite the late hour.

"Mikasa!" Isabel's voice was light and teasing, but her grin was genuine. "Guess what? Big bro says you're off night watch tonight. Someone else is taking over. You can head to bed."

Mikasa blinked, her hands freezing mid-motion. "What? Why?"

Isabel shrugged, though her grin widened. "Beats me. He didn't explain, but when does he ever? He just told me to pass the message along."

Mikasa frowned, her eyes narrowing slightly. "And who's covering for me?"

"Farlan," Isabel said with a wave of her hand. "He didn't seem to mind. Told me to tell you not to waste time asking questions and just go rest already."

Mikasa hesitated, her instincts telling her there was more to this than Isabel was letting on. But the exhaustion tugging at her body won out. "Fine," she muttered, setting the gear down. "Thanks for letting me know."

As she made her way back to the barracks, her mind raced. This wasn't like Levi. She couldn't decide if it was a reprieve or some new mind game.

The following morning, Mikasa checked the duty roster expecting another grueling day. Her name was listed next to a task she hadn't seen assigned to her before: sorting equipment inventory with Hange.

She found herself in the supply room a little while later, organizing crates and marking items off a list. It wasn't strenuous—nothing compared to her usual assignments. Still, the change felt calculated.

As she stacked another box, Hange entered, glancing at the organized rows. "Efficient as ever, Mikasa," she said with a grin. "You could probably finish this in your sleep."

Mikasa nodded absently, her mind preoccupied. "Why was I assigned to this?"

Hange tilted her head, amusement flickering in their eyes. "Why not? You've been overworked lately. Someone decided to give you a breather."

Someone. She didn't have to ask who. Instead, she pressed her lips together and returned to her work, ignoring the strange churn in her chest.

The midday sun beat down on the courtyard. Mikasa had been running drills all morning, her body drenched in sweat and her muscles burning with effort. She was about to move to the next station when Isabel approached, practically skipping.

"Hey, Mikasa! Captain says you can take a break. Like, a real one," Isabel announced, leaning on the fence.

Mikasa turned, her expression skeptical. "A break?"

"Yeah, you know, the thing where you stop working and sit down for a while?" Isabel teased, winking. "Apparently, you've 'worked hard enough today.' His words, not mine."

Mikasa stared at her, unsure of what to make of this. Levi never handed out breaks so freely. "Is this some kind of joke?"

"Nope! Totally serious." Isabel tilted her head, studying Mikasa's expression. "You're suspicious, huh? Can't say I blame you, but hey, take it while you can."

Reluctantly, Mikasa grabbed her water canteen and sat under a nearby tree. As she sipped, her mind whirled. This wasn't normal, but she couldn't deny the faint, almost begrudging relief she felt.

****************************

One evening, Mikasa passed by Levi's office on her way to return her equipment. The door was slightly ajar, and for a brief moment, she saw him glance up. He said nothing, but his eyes lingered just long enough to make her pause.

Her heart tightened as she turned away quickly, continuing down the hall. Moments later, Farlan caught up to her.

"Captain asked me to tell you—leave the equipment for someone else tonight. Go get some rest."

Mikasa stopped, her hands clenching into fists. "Why does he care all of a sudden?"

Farlan raised an eyebrow. "That's between you and him." He gave her a pointed look before walking off. "But between you and me, he seemed pretty damn insistent."

Mikasa's throat tightened as she continued toward the barracks. Whatever Levi was trying to do, it wasn't enough to erase the frustration and hurt that still lingered in her chest.

Levi sat at his desk, the faint scratching of his pen filling the quiet space of his office. The evening was still. Reports and rosters were spread out before him, but his focus wavered, his gaze flicking toward the door every so often.

He caught the sound of footsteps—light, purposeful—and glanced up instinctively. The door to his office was slightly ajar, giving him an unintentional view of the hallway beyond. His gray eyes locked onto a familiar figure.

Mikasa.

She moved with the same steady grace as always, her posture perfect even in the late hours. She carried her gear, her expression as neutral as it was distant. But there was a stiffness to her shoulders, a weariness in her movements that hadn't been there before.

Levi didn't look away. For a fleeting moment, she turned her head, her eyes catching his through the narrow gap in the door. Their gazes met, the space between them charged with a tension neither could name. Her dark eyes narrowed slightly, unreadable, before she turned away and continued down the hall.

He exhaled, setting his pen down and leaning back in his chair. The memory of her bruised wrists and her exhaustion resurfaced unbidden, gnawing at the edges of his resolve.

She's pushing herself too hard again. Tch. Stubborn idiot.

The door creaked open further as Farlan entered, a stack of reports in his arms. Levi glanced at him briefly before standing and crossing the room.

"You're here. Good," Levi said, his tone brisk. "Find Ackerman and tell her to leave the equipment for someone else tonight."

Farlan raised an eyebrow, pausing mid-step. "Leave it for someone else? It's her usual task. Why the sudden change?"

Levi's gaze flicked back to him, cold and unwavering. "Just do it."

"Sure," Farlan said with a faint smirk, setting the reports on the desk. "Between you and me, why are you suddenly lightening her load? Doesn't seem like your style."

Levi's jaw tightened, his expression unreadable. "She's been overworked. It's practical."

Farlan's smirk widened slightly, a knowing glint in his eyes. "Uh-huh. Practical."

"Don't make me repeat myself," Levi said curtly, turning back toward his desk.

Farlan chuckled under his breath but nodded. "Alright, alright. I'll tell her. But just so you know, you're not exactly subtle."

Idiot, he thought again, though this time he wasn't sure if he meant her—or himself.

Mikasa walked briskly through the stone corridors, her boots echoing softly against the cold floor. Her brows furrowed in thought, her frustration bubbling beneath her otherwise calm exterior. Captain Levi's recent behavior gnawed at her mind like an unsolved puzzle.

Why? she wondered, clenching her fists. Why the sudden change? Is he actually sorry for how he's treated me, or is this just pity?

The idea of being pitied by Levi was almost worse than his cruelty. Her steps quickened, her annoyance mounting with every thought. Maybe Isabel bugged him into going easy on me. That would make sense. She's pushy enough to try something like that.

But then, another thought intruded. No. He's not the type to be swayed, not even by Isabel. So what is it?

By the time she reached the dining hall, her mind was still spinning, her frustration simmering just beneath the surface. Pushing the heavy doors open, she stepped into the warm, noisy space where the scent of bread and stew mingled with the chatter of recruits. Her friends were already seated at their usual table near the corner, waving her over.

Mikasa slid into the seat beside Sasha, who immediately handed her a plate piled high with food. "Here," Sasha said, grinning. "You've been looking like a ghost lately."

"Thanks," Mikasa murmured, though her appetite was minimal. She picked at her food, her thoughts still preoccupied.

Jean leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. "So, uh, not to sound nosy, but what's up with Captain Levi? He's been acting... different."

"Different how?" Armin asked, his curiosity piqued as he looked between Jean and Mikasa.

"Don't act like you haven't noticed," Jean said, gesturing toward Mikasa. "Less work, reassigned duties, all that. He never goes easy on anyone—so why you?"

"Yeah," Connie chimed in, nudging her with his elbow. "What did you do? Save his life or something?"

Mikasa's face remained impassive, but her grip on her fork tightened slightly. "I don't know," she said flatly. "Maybe he's just rethinking how he treats the squad. Or maybe it's nothing."

"Nothing?" Jean scoffed. "Come on, Mikasa. The guy's practically given you a free pass this week. There's gotta be a reason."

Before Mikasa could respond, Sasha leaned forward, a mischievous glint in her eye. "Oh, I know why," she said, grinning.

All eyes turned to her, and Mikasa shot her a warning look. Don't you dare.

Sasha ignored it, waving her hand dismissively. "It's because Mikasa's secretly his favorite. He just can't bring himself to admit it, so he's being all weird about it."

Connie laughed. "His favorite? Captain Levi doesn't have favorites."

"Oh, really?" Sasha said, her grin widening. "Explain why he's suddenly treating Mikasa like she's made of glass. Next thing you know, he'll be asking her if she wants tea."

Mikasa groaned. "Shut up."

"Hey, I'm not saying it's true," Sasha said, still giggling. "I'm just saying, if Captain Levi ever starts smiling at anyone, we'll know it's because of you."

"Stop it," Mikasa muttered, but her friends' laughter only grew louder.

Even Armin cracked a smile. "It is odd," he admitted, his tone more thoughtful. "But maybe it's just... his way of showing he respects you?"

Jean snorted. "Or he's trying to get you to join his squad. Like, officially."

"Great," Mikasa said sarcastically, stabbing her fork into her food. "That's exactly what I need. More attention."

"Don't worry," Sasha said, throwing an arm around Mikasa's shoulders. "If he starts getting too nice, we'll tease him right back. Maybe I'll ask him if he wants to share a loaf of bread with you."

As the laughter at the table continued, Mikasa stared down at her plate, her thoughts swirling. Was Sasha's ridiculous theory entirely wrong? Or was there something else she was missing?

Her friends' voices faded into the background as her gaze drifted toward the dining hall entrance. For a brief moment, she wondered if Levi was somewhere nearby, his gaze catching hers like it had in the courtyard earlier.

No. Don't be stupid, she told herself, shaking her head. Whatever this is, it doesn't matter.

Suddenly, the door swung open with a creak, and Petra and Oluo entered. Their presence commanded immediate attention; even the rowdiest recruits quieted down, forks pausing mid-air.

Petra stepped forward, her expression composed but slightly weary. "Listen up, everyone. Captain Levi has called a meeting. All of you," she said, gesturing to the group of recruits.

The room erupted with murmurs.

"A meeting? What for?" Jean asked, leaning back in his chair.

Connie groaned, clutching his head. "What if it's punishment? I swear I didn't do anything this time!"

Sasha gasped dramatically, clutching her half-eaten loaf of bread. "Do you think it's about someone sneaking food from the kitchen? It wasn't me, I swear!"

Mikasa's brow furrowed as she exchanged a glance with Armin, who shrugged. "It's unusual," Armin admitted, looking thoughtful. "Captain doesn't normally gather everyone unless it's important."

"Or terrifying," Jean muttered under his breath.

Reiner leaned back, smirking. "Relax, you all sound like you're about to get court-martialed."

"Speak for yourself," Connie quipped. "You don't know what he's capable of."

Before the table could descend into complete chaos, Petra clapped her hands. "Quiet down! You'll find out soon enough. Just be at the meeting room in fifteen minutes."

She turned to leave, her steps measured and efficient. Oluo followed after her, his chest puffed out like he'd just delivered the message of the century.

As they reached the door, Oluo clicked his tongue. "Tch. Honestly, these recruits are clueless. Can't believe we're wasting time on—"

Petra spun on her heel, her eyes narrowing. "Can you not for five minutes, Oluo? I swear, every time you open your mouth, I lose a little more patience."

"Hey! That's no way to talk to humanity's second strongest," Oluo retorted, smoothing his jacket. "It's disrespectful to—"

"Humanity's second strongest at being annoying, maybe," Petra deadpanned, pushing open the door. "Now move it."

Laughter rippled through the dining hall as the two disappeared down the corridor. Jean shook his head, smirking. "Those two are like an old married couple. They bicker more than anyone I've ever seen."

"Honestly, I don't know how Petra puts up with him," Connie added, still laughing.

The recruits filed into the meeting room, their expressions ranging from curious to nervous. The space was large enough to fit them all comfortably, but the weight of Levi's presence at the front of the room made it feel smaller. Mikasa stood near the back, her arms crossed as she surveyed the group. She could sense the tension in the air, thick and suffocating.

Levi stood with his arms folded, his gaze scanning the gathered recruits. His special squad—Petra, Gunther, Eld, and Oluo—stood to one side. Isabel and Farlan flanked Levi on the other side.

Once the room settled into silence, Levi spoke, his voice cutting through the air like a blade. "We've received orders from Commander Erwin," he began, his tone clipped and efficient. "In three days, we'll be heading back to the Survey Corps headquarters to join the main body of the regiment. From there, we'll deploy on an expedition outside the walls."

A heavy silence fell over the room. The gravity of his words hit the recruits like a hammer, and even the usual chatterboxes like Connie and Sasha were left speechless.

"Outside the walls?" Jean muttered, his voice barely audible. "We're really... doing this?"

Eren's fists clenched at his sides, his determination evident in the tight line of his jaw. Mikasa's gaze flickered toward him briefly before returning to Levi, her face unreadable.

Sensing the rising tension, Isabel grinned and stepped forward, clapping her hands together. "Hey, don't look so grim! It's not that bad out there. Sure, there are Titans everywhere, and yeah, it's terrifying, but... okay, maybe I'm not selling this right." She laughed nervously.

Farlan rolled his eyes but followed her lead, his tone more measured. "What she's trying to say is that you'll have us and Levi watching your backs. It's dangerous, yeah, but it's what we've trained for. Stick to the plan, and you'll make it."

Petra took a step forward, her voice calm and encouraging. "Farlan's right. It's normal to feel nervous, but we've been through this before, and we'll be there to guide you. Just stay sharp and follow orders."

Eld nodded in agreement. "This isn't just about fighting Titans. It's about working as a team and supporting each other. That's how we get through it."

Oluo, not to be outdone, clicked his tongue and added, "Stick close to humanity's second strongest, and you'll be fine. Just don't slow me down."

Petra shot him a glare. "Oluo, stop bragging for five seconds, will you?"

The lighthearted exchange drew a few nervous chuckles from the recruits, easing the tension slightly. But before it could dissolve entirely, Levi's voice cut through the room again, unyielding.

"Enough," he said, his tone silencing the murmurs. "I'm not here to sugarcoat this for you. People will die." His blunt statement sent a chill through the room. "Titans don't care how skilled you are or how much potential you have. Out there, one mistake can cost you everything."

The recruits stared at him, their expressions a mix of fear and determination. Levi's gaze swept over them, lingering for a moment on Mikasa before continuing.

"But you don't have to make it easy for them," he said, his voice softer but no less intense. "Don't die. That's an order."

The weight of his words settled heavily on the room. For a moment, no one moved or spoke, the reality of what lay ahead sinking in.

"Alright," Levi said, breaking the silence. "Dismissed."

The recruits began filing out of the room, their footsteps heavy with unease. Sasha and Connie whispered nervously, while Jean muttered something under his breath about how terrifying Levi's speeches were. Isabel waved at Mikasa with a cheerful "You'll do great, trust me!" before following Farlan out.

Mikasa lingered near the door, waiting for the others to leave. She felt Levi's gaze on her but didn't look back, her focus on the floor as she adjusted the sleeve of her jacket. When the room finally emptied, she turned to leave, but Levi's voice stopped her.

"Ackerman."

She froze, her hand hovering near the doorknob. Slowly, she turned to face him, her expression calm but guarded.

Levi took a step closer, his gaze dropping briefly to her wrists. Her sleeves had ridden up slightly, revealing the faint marks left from their last confrontation. His chest tightened with guilt, the memory of her pained expression flashing through his mind.

He nodded toward her wrists, his hand twitching slightly as if he wanted to reach out but thought better of it. "I—"

Mikasa followed his gaze, realizing what he was referring to. Her eyes softened briefly before she pulled her sleeves down, covering the marks. "It's fine, Captain," she said quietly, her tone steady but not unkind. "You don't need to feel guilty."

Her words were meant to reassure him, but they only deepened the knot in his chest. He nodded curtly, his lips pressing into a thin line. Mikasa waited a moment longer, as if expecting him to say something more, but when he didn't, she turned and left the room.

Levi stood there in the empty room, his gaze lingering on the door Mikasa had just walked through. His chest tightened, the words he couldn't bring himself to say still heavy on his tongue. He let out a frustrated exhale, running a hand through his dark hair.

"Should've just said it," he muttered under his breath, his tone sharp with self-reproach.

But it didn't matter now. She was gone, and the marks on her wrists were burned into his mind like a reminder of his failure. Levi turned back toward the center of the room, the silence pressing in on him.

This isn't how it's supposed to be.

****************************

The carriages trundled along the dirt path, the rhythmic creak of wheels and the steady clop of hooves the only sounds breaking the heavy silence. The recruits sat in quiet contemplation, the weight of their upcoming expedition hanging over them like a cloud.

Mikasa leaned against the wooden side of the carriage, her gaze fixed on the endless expanse of trees rushing past. The steady sway of the vehicle should have been soothing, but her mind was far from calm. The mention of the upcoming expedition had stirred memories she'd tried to push aside—memories of the Battle of Trost.

"Hey," Eren's voice broke through the silence, drawing her attention. He was sitting across from her, his elbows resting on his knees as he leaned forward. "You're thinking about Trost, aren't you?"

Mikasa blinked, her eyes narrowing slightly. "So are you."

Eren nodded, his jaw tightening. "It's hard not to."

Across from them, Armin adjusted his glasses, his expression somber. "Trost was... a wake-up call for all of us. That was the first time we saw Titans up close. The first time we realized how real this fight is."

Jean, sitting nearby, let out a low whistle. "Yeah, real is one word for it. Terrifying is another. I still see that stupid Titan's face in my dreams sometimes."

Sasha, who had been uncharacteristically quiet, piped up, "That moment when the gates fell... I thought that was it. I thought we were all going to die right there."

"You weren't the only one," Connie muttered, his usual lightheartedness replaced with a rare seriousness. "Remember that guy—what was his name? The one who froze up and got grabbed? That could have been any of us."

Mikasa's fists clenched in her lap. She remembered every detail of Trost with painful clarity: the chaos, the screams, the overwhelming stench of blood and fear. She remembered watching comrades fall, unable to save them no matter how fast or how strong she was.

But above all, she remembered Eren's sacrifice—or what she thought had been his sacrifice. The moment she believed she had lost him was seared into her soul.

"I don't think I've ever been more scared in my life," Armin admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "When Eren—" He broke off, his gaze dropping to the floor.

"It's fine," Eren said quickly, his tone firmer than usual. "We survived. That's what matters."

"Yeah, because you turned into a Titan," Jean snapped, though there was no real malice in his voice. "Not all of us have the luxury of being able to punch them in the face."

Eren shrugged, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. "Someone had to step up."

"Cocky as always," Jean muttered, but his lips twitched in a reluctant smile.

The atmosphere in the carriage lightened slightly, the recruits exchanging small smiles and knowing glances. But the unspoken truth lingered: they had survived Trost, but not unscathed. The losses, the trauma, and the harsh reality of their mission had left its mark on each of them.

Isabel, who had been sitting quietly in the corner, suddenly spoke up. "You know, the first time I saw a Titan, I thought, 'That's it. We're done.' But then big bro came in, all badass and slicing through necks like it was nothing. He made it look... possible."

"Yeah," Farlan added from the seat beside her. "That's the thing about this fight. It feels impossible until someone shows you it's not."

"That's great and all," Jean said, raising an eyebrow, "but not all of us are Captain Levi."

"No, but you've got us," Isabel said with a grin, leaning forward. "And you've got each other. That counts for something."

The recruits exchanged glances, a quiet understanding passing between them. They didn't need to say it aloud—they knew that their survival depended on each other, just as it had during Trost.

The carriage hit a bump, jolting them slightly. Mikasa's hand instinctively went to her scarf, her fingers curling around the worn fabric. The thought of another battle, another close encounter with death, sent a chill down her spine. But she pushed the fear aside, her gaze hardening.

"We've been through worse," she said firmly, her voice cutting through the quiet. "We'll get through this, too."

****************************

The Survey Corps' quarters buzzed with activity, the tension palpable as the newly assembled recruits and veterans filled the large briefing hall. Maps and charts were pinned on the walls, and at the front of the room stood Commander Erwin, flanked by Levi, Hange, Mike, and other experienced soldiers. The recruits shifted uneasily in their seats, their whispered speculations filling the air.

Mikasa sat near the middle, sandwiched between Sasha and Jean. Across the room, Eren and Armin were seated, and the distance gnawed at her nerves. She stole a glance at Eren, who was focused intently on Erwin, his unwavering determination etched into his expression.

Erwin cleared his throat, silencing the room with his commanding presence. "As you all know, the upcoming expedition will be your first for many of you. It is not only an opportunity to reclaim ground from the Titans but also a test of your resolve and ability to work as a unit. Many of you will not return."

A heavy silence fell, broken only by the faint sound of someone nervously shifting in their seat.

"However," Erwin continued, "each of you has been assigned to a squad where your skills are most needed. Trust in your leaders and in each other. Squad leaders will now announce the assignments."

Levi stepped forward, his gray eyes scanning the room. "My squad: Eren Jaeger, Isabel Magnolia, Farlan Church, Petra Ral, Oluo Bozado, Eld Jinn, and Gunther Schultz. Report to me after this meeting."

Eren nodded firmly, but Mikasa's stomach twisted as her name was not called. Her hands tightened into fists, but she said nothing.

Hange stepped up next, her usual energy muted by the seriousness of the moment. "Hange Squad: Armin Arlert, Connie Springer, Krista Lenz, Reiner Braun, and Bertolt Hoover. You'll assist with Titan research during the expedition. Be ready for anything!"

Armin glanced over his shoulder, his eyes meeting Mikasa's briefly, his gaze reassuring yet uncertain. Mikasa's chest tightened further.

Finally, Mike Zakarius stepped forward, his towering presence commanding the room's attention. "My squad: Mikasa Ackerman, Sasha Blouse, Ymir, Jean Kirstein, and Thomas Wagner. We'll be covering the middle ground, ensuring strategic flexibility."

Mikasa's heart sank. Separated from Eren and Armin? Her pulse quickened, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. Sasha nudged her, murmuring, "At least we're together," but her usually cheerful tone lacked its spark.

Jean leaned closer, muttering, "Lucky me. Stuck sniffing Titans with Mike."

Sasha glared at him. "This is serious, Jean!"

Erwin's voice rose again, silencing the murmurs. "You've been placed where you are most needed. Trust in your leaders. Dismissed."

The room emptied slowly, recruits heading toward their designated leaders. Mikasa lingered, her thoughts churning. Eren was already speaking with Levi's squad, his posture confident. Armin was smiling faintly at Hange's encouragement. Mikasa's frustration reached its peak.

"I can't accept this," she muttered under her breath. Before Sasha could stop her, Mikasa stood abruptly, storming toward the commander's office.

The sound of her boots echoed through the hallway as Mikasa marched toward Erwin's office, anger boiling in her chest. She barely noticed Eren and Armin following her, their voices faintly calling her name.

"Mikasa, wait!" Eren caught up to her. "What are you doing?"

She didn't stop. "I need to speak with Commander Erwin."

"You can't just barge in—" Armin started, but Mikasa was already pushing the door open.

The room was dimly lit, Erwin seated behind his desk with Levi standing nearby, his arms crossed. Both men turned at the sudden intrusion.

"Mikasa," Eren hissed, grabbing her arm. "What are you doing?"

Mikasa shook him off, her gaze fixed on Erwin. "Commander, I need to know why I was placed in a different squad from Eren and Armin."

Erwin's expression remained calm, though his eyes sharpened. "Your assignment reflects where your skills are most needed, Ackerman."

"But it doesn't make sense," Mikasa insisted, her voice steady but laced with frustration. "How can I protect them if I'm not with them? Eren may be able to turn into a Titan, but that doesn't guarantee his safety. I almost lost him once. And Armin..." She hesitated, her throat tightening. "He's not a Titan. He's vulnerable."

Erwin leaned forward, his gaze unwavering. "They have been placed with leaders capable of protecting them. Levi's squad will handle Eren, and Hange's group is more than equipped to safeguard Armin."

"Humanity's strongest won't risk his life to save my family," Mikasa countered, her voice trembling. "No one can protect them like I can."

Levi's eyes narrowed, but he stayed silent, his posture stiffening.

Erwin's voice turned grave. "And yet, when Eren was eaten by a Titan, you couldn't save him. His survival was a miracle—a fluke of extraordinary circumstances. On the battlefield, anything can happen. Your presence doesn't guarantee their safety."

Mikasa flinched, the weight of his words cutting deep. She clenched her fists, her jaw tightening as she fought back the surge of emotions. "I won't let that happen again," she said quietly, her tone resolute.

"You won't always have control," Erwin said firmly. "That's why you must trust the leaders we've chosen. Levi and Hange are the best. They will do everything in their power to ensure success."

Eren stepped forward, his voice softening. "Mikasa, it's okay. I'll be fine. Captain Levi's group is strong—maybe even stronger than you." He offered her a small smile. "And Armin is with Hange. He'll be safe."

Armin stepped closer, his expression earnest. "Mikasa, you've always looked out for us. Let us prove we can handle this. Trust us to hold our own."

Mikasa's shoulders sagged, the fight slowly draining out of her. She glanced at Eren, whose determined eyes met hers with unwavering confidence. The weight of her frustration and fear pressed against her chest, but she took a deep breath, steadying herself.

Before she could respond, Erwin's voice broke the silence. "Barging in here like this, Ackerman, shows a lack of discipline. You could be punished—"

"I'll take care of it," Levi interrupted, his voice cutting through the room. He stepped forward slightly, his tone flat but leaving no room for argument. "She's made her point. Let it go."

Erwin raised an eyebrow, pausing briefly before nodding. "Very well."

Mikasa flicked her gaze to Levi, surprised by his intervention but too drained to dwell on it. Her voice was quieter now as she finally relented. "Fine. I'll trust you. But if anything happens to them—"

"Nothing will," Eren interrupted with firm resolve. He offered her a small, reassuring smile. "We've got this."

Erwin nodded, his tone final. "Good. Dismissed."

The barracks were silent, the muffled sounds of distant footsteps the only sign of life. Mikasa sat alone in the dim common room, her scarf loose around her neck, her fingers absently brushing the fabric. The quiet should have been soothing, but her thoughts churned relentlessly—Eren, Armin, the upcoming expedition, and Levi's confusing behavior.

The soft creak of the door drew her attention, and she turned to see Levi standing in the doorway. His gaze found hers immediately. He lingered for a moment before stepping inside, his presence both grounding and unsettling.

"Captain," she greeted, her voice quiet but steady. Her heart quickened, though her expression betrayed nothing.

Levi closed the door behind him and walked closer, his hands tucked into his pockets. He stopped a few feet away, his eyes studying her. The silence stretched between them like a taut wire, neither speaking at first.

"You like making things difficult, don't you?" Levi's voice finally broke the quiet, his tone low but carrying a faint edge of dry humor.

Mikasa frowned slightly. "If you're here to scold me about earlier—"

"I'm not," he interrupted, though his lips twitched faintly. "But you do have a knack for barging in where you're not supposed to."

Mikasa's cheeks warmed, and she looked away. "I had my reasons."

"You always do," Levi muttered, and for a moment, something like amusement flickered in his expression. But it faded quickly as he stepped closer, his voice lowering. "I stepped in earlier because... I know what it's like to lose people."

The air between them grew heavier, charged with the weight of what wasn't being said. Neither of them mentioned what had happened in the office that day—the raw emotions, her bold accusations, his silent guilt. Perhaps it was easier this way, to leave it unspoken, each carrying the memory in their own way.

Mikasa blinked, caught off guard by the uncharacteristic vulnerability in his tone. Her eyes lifted to meet his, her guarded expression softening just slightly.

Levi shifted his weight, his gaze falling to the floor momentarily. "I've lost more people than I can count. Some because I wasn't fast enough. Others because they thought they could take on everything themselves." He glanced back up at her, his gray eyes shadowed. "You remind me of them sometimes."

Mikasa's throat tightened, his words stirring something deep within her. She didn't respond, sensing that this was something he rarely—if ever—talked about.

Levi exhaled softly, his hands leaving his pockets as he crossed his arms. "We need you, Mikasa. You're important to the squad."

Before she could respond, Levi took another step closer. The sudden proximity made her pulse quicken, and when she shifted slightly, flinching almost imperceptibly, he froze.

His expression flickered, and he stepped back immediately, clearing his throat. "Don't be reckless tomorrow," he said, his tone quieter now.

"I won't," she said simply, her voice firm and unwavering.

Levi nodded once, stepping back toward the door. He paused briefly, his hand on the doorknob, as if debating whether to say more. But instead, he opened the door and stepped out, the soft click of the latch echoing in the quiet room.

As the silence returned, Mikasa sat motionless, her fingers brushing the edge of her scarf. Her thoughts swirled, unsettled by the unexpected exchange.

He didn't say he needs me, she thought, a faint twinge of disappointment flickering in her chest. She shook her head, brushing the thought away. It didn't matter. Or at least, it shouldn't.

But even as she tried to let it go, the memory of his voice—softer, more vulnerable than she'd ever heard it—lingered in her mind, stirring questions she wasn't ready to face.

This side of him... so unexpected, so human. A part of her stirred with a quiet yearning. What else lay beneath that impenetrable façade? She found herself wanting to know—wanting to see more of it.

****************************

The courtyard buzzed with restless energy as the recruits mounted their horses. The faint groan of the massive wall gates preparing to open heard. The sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows.

Mikasa tightened the straps on her saddle with methodical precision, her hands steady even as her heart raced. Her eyes flicked toward the front, where Eren and Armin sat on their horses. Eren adjusted his grip on the reins, glancing back at her. Their eyes met, and she gave him a small nod, which he returned with quiet determination. Armin, noticing the exchange, added a reassuring smile.

At the head of the formation, Levi sat rigid and composed on his horse, his gaze sweeping over the gathered soldiers like a hawk surveying its prey. His tone was curt as he addressed his squad. "Stay in formation. Keep your eyes forward. And don't lose your nerve."

Behind him, Hange, ever the contrast, grinned as they tugged on their harness. "And if anyone sees a Titan with two heads or, I don't know, an interesting foot pattern, let me know immediately. Bonus points if it's missing a chunk of its face—those are fun!"

A smattering of nervous chuckles rippled through the recruits, but Connie leaned over to Jean and muttered, "Do they seriously think now is the time for this?"

Jean scoffed. "I'm just hoping they don't try to keep a Titan on a leash again."

Hange, overhearing, spun around in their saddle with an exaggerated gasp. "Oh, Jean! Are you volunteering to help me leash one? What a team player!"

Jean sputtered, waving his hands. "What? No! I didn't mean—"

"Excellent!" Hange declared, cutting him off. "I'll let you know when I spot one. Bring snacks—it's a process."

The recruits around them snickered, though the tension didn't entirely dissipate. Mikasa couldn't help but crack the faintest smirk, though it faded quickly as her gaze drifted to the gates.

From her perch beside Levi's squad, Isabel leaned forward on her horse, nudging Farlan with her elbow. "Big bro looks extra grouchy today, huh?" she said with a grin.

"He always looks like that," Farlan replied dryly.

"Yeah, but it's, like, next-level today. Bet he's worried about all these new faces screwing up," Isabel said, her grin widening. "Should I tell him to smile more? You think that'd help?"

Farlan shot her a warning look. "Unless you want to end up cleaning the stables for a week, I'd keep that to yourself."

Isabel snickered, straightening in her saddle. "Fine, fine. But it'd be worth it."

Erwin's voice cut through the chatter like a blade, silencing the murmurs as he rode to the front of the formation. The soldiers straightened reflexively, the weight of his presence settling over them.

"Listen closely," he began, his deep voice resonating across the courtyard. "Today, you step beyond the safety of these walls. Out there lies the unknown—Titans, death, fear. But also opportunity. Every step you take will be one toward reclaiming what belongs to humanity."

A heavy silence fell over the group, broken only by the soft snort of a horse.

"You have trained for this. You are prepared. Now, trust your leaders, your comrades, and yourselves. Stay in formation. Follow orders. And above all..." His gaze swept over the soldiers, lingering on a few for just a moment longer. "Survive."

The tension grew thicker, every cadet acutely aware of the weight of his words. Even Isabel's grin faltered slightly as the gravity of the moment settled in.

Erwin raised his hand, signaling the operators at the gates. With a deep, echoing groan, the massive doors began to open, revealing the vast, untamed landscape beyond. The breeze carried the scent of grass and earth, tinged with the metallic tang of anticipation.

"Move out!" Erwin commanded, his voice ringing with authority.

Levi spurred his horse forward, his squad falling into formation with practiced precision. Hange's group followed next, with the squad leader still muttering about Titan anatomy. "I mean, really, wouldn't a two-headed Titan be fascinating? The coordination it'd require—"

"Please stop," Connie groaned from his place in formation, prompting laughter from Krista and Bertolt.

Mikasa's squad moved out next, her focus laser-sharp despite Sasha whispering beside her, "Does anyone else's horse feel... too bouncy? Or is it just me?"

"Just you," Jean muttered, rolling his eyes.

As the soldiers surged forward, hooves pounding against the dirt, the walls fell away behind them. For many of the recruits, it was their first taste of the open world beyond. Mikasa's heart raced as she stared at the endless horizon, her determination solidifying. The unknown awaited.

From the front of the formation, Isabel turned in her saddle, yelling back with a grin, "Hey, Mikasa! Try not to get lost out there! Levi hates paperwork!"

Chapter Text

The gates groaned loudly as they opened, revealing the vast, untamed wilderness stretching out before them. For many of the recruits, it was their first glimpse of the world outside the walls in this detail—a mix of wild beauty and looming terror. The wind rustled the tall grasses, the distant tree lines casting shadows that seemed almost alive.

Mikasa sat rigidly on her horse, her gaze darting between the recruits around her and the open expanse ahead. She glanced at Eren, riding confidently with Levi's squad at the forefront. His shoulders were squared, his determination radiating even from a distance. Beside him, Isabel and Farlan chatted with Petra and Gunther, their casual demeanor clashing with the nervous energy of the other squads.

Armin was to her right, just as Hange's squad began to peel off toward their designated position. He caught her eye briefly, offering a small nod and an encouraging smile before Hange barked some joke about "Titan hunting being a great cardio workout," earning groans from Reiner and Bertolt. Connie, however, snickered and added, "At least I'll die in shape!"

Krista giggled nervously, while Ymir muttered something under her breath about Hange being unhinged. Mikasa allowed herself a fleeting smile at the exchange but quickly focused again. Armin disappeared into the distance with Hange's squad, and the ache of separation tugged at her chest.

Mike's booming voice brought her back to the present as her group adjusted their positioning. "Stay sharp, and don't fall behind. We're here to move quickly and cover gaps. Ackerman, Kirstein, you're with me at the front. Blouse, Ymir, Wagner—fall in behind us."

Jean let out a low groan, muttering, "Great. Just where I wanted to be—next to Captain Sniffer."

Meanwhile, Sasha's eyes were wide, scanning the landscape. "It's... beautiful," she murmured, awe clear in her voice. "I've never seen anything like this."

Jean rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, poetic. Let's focus on not becoming Titan snacks."

"I'm serious! Don't you think it's amazing we're finally out here?"

"Sure," Ymir cut in dryly. "Amazing until something pops out of the grass and eats us whole."

Mikasa tuned out their chatter, her gaze locked on Eren and Levi's squad, now riding further ahead. Her grip on the reins tightened as she watched Eren's figure grow smaller in the distance. A silent command burned in her thoughts: Survive. Both of you.

The call to move came from Erwin himself. He stood tall and imposing at the center of the formation, his voice carrying over the gathered soldiers. "Remember your training. Remember your squad. Stay in formation and follow orders. Humanity's future depends on this mission."

Levi, at the head of the vanguard, cast a glance back at the assembled groups. His voice was curt, cutting through the rising tension. "Don't do anything stupid. If you see a Titan, take it down and move on. No heroics."

Behind him, Isabel whispered something to Farlan, loud enough for Hange to overhear. "I think I'll be humanity's strongest by the end of today. Watch me."

Hange snorted loudly from her position further back. "Oh, Isabel, please. We all know Levi's not retiring anytime soon. But hey, I'll give you a medal for effort."

Levi turned his head slightly, his glare cutting through their banter. "Both of you—shut it."

Isabel grinned unapologetically, while Farlan raised his hands in mock surrender. "No disrespect, Captain," he said, his tone light, "but you might want to loosen up. It's a long day ahead."

The recruits moved with tense precision, their eyes darting to every shift in the horizon, every distant sound. At the head of the group, Hange sat tall in their saddle, grinning like a child promised a treasure hunt.

Armin rode in the middle, flanked by Connie and Krista. The rest of the recruits fanned out in a loose but deliberate pattern, their hands hovering over their ODM triggers. Every creak of leather, every bird's cry felt magnified in the uneasy quiet.

"Eyes up, people!" Hange's voice rang out, bright and commanding. "This isn't just reconnaissance—it's research in action! With any luck, we'll spot some interesting Titans to study."

Krista glanced nervously at Armin. "She means... up close, doesn't she?"

Armin sighed. "That's Hange for you. Just stay focused."

"Lucky? More like cursed," Connie muttered. "Who wants to get lucky with Titans?"

Ahead of them, the tall grass rippled unnaturally. Hange yanked her horse to a stop, raising a hand in a sharp signal. The group halted, the sound of stamping hooves and the faint creak of gear breaking the silence.

"There!" Hange pointed excitedly, her eyes alight.

Armin squinted into the distance. A group of five Titans emerged from the treeline, their grotesque figures casting long, warped shadows. One moved erratically, its jerky strides unsettling as it bounded forward in unpredictable bursts.

"Abnormals," Armin murmured, his fingers tightening on the reins.

"Finally!" Hange exclaimed, already nudging her horse forward. "Alright, team—time to—"

"Wait!" Armin cut in sharply. "We need a plan!"

But Hange was already in motion, galloping straight toward the Titans.

"Of course." Reiner muttered, spurring his horse. "Move! Stick to formation!"

The recruits sprang into action, splitting into groups as Armin shouted commands.

"Reiner, Bertolt—flank left! Connie, Krista—distract and circle! The rest of you, hold back and cover Hange!"

Reiner charged ahead, leaping from his horse with precision. His blades glinted as he tore through a Titan's nape in a single, clean strike. Bertolt followed, his movements slower but equally effective as he dispatched another with careful precision.

Connie zipped through the grass, leading a third Titan away with nimble maneuvers. "Krista, now!" he yelled, veering just out of reach of the Titan's outstretched hand.

Krista launched upward, her ODM gear hissing as she slashed through the Titan's neck. She landed lightly, her hands trembling but her expression resolute.

"Nice!" Connie called, flashing her a grin as he dodged another swing. "You could totally lead next time."

Krista shook her head. "Not a chance."

Hange, oblivious to the chaos, had dismounted entirely and stood in the thick of the fight, furiously scribbling in her notebook. "Look at that stride!" she marveled. "Remarkable compensation for such a warped center of gravity!"

"Hange!" Armin yelled. "Move back! Now!"

The abnormal Titan twisted, its grotesque grin stretching wide as it lunged toward Hange. The recruits hesitated, their inexperience and fear freezing them in place.

"Damn it!" Armin muttered, firing his ODM hooks. He launched himself upward, his blades flashing as he struck the Titan's shoulder, causing it to stagger. He adjusted his trajectory midair and drove his blades into its nape, finishing it off with a spray of steam.

As the Titan collapsed, Armin landed beside Hange, his chest heaving. "You can't just stand there!" he snapped, his usual composure cracking. "You'll get yourself killed!"

Hange blinked, clearly unbothered. "But did you see that movement? Absolutely fascinating—"

"Hange," Armin growled, his voice low but steady. "Stop being reckless."

Hange raised her hands in mock surrender, her grin unfaltering. "Alright, alright. Good work, Armin."

The field was eerily quiet as the last Titan fell, its body hissing as steam rose into the air. The recruits regrouped, their breaths heavy and uneven.

Reiner and Bertolt returned from the left flank, their blades dripping with blood. Reiner's jaw was tight, his eyes scanning the horizon. Bertolt's expression was quieter, his gaze lingering on the corpses with an unsettling mix of regret and unease.

"Everyone alright?" Krista asked

Connie let out a nervous laugh. "Define 'alright.' Didn't get eaten, so... good enough for me."

Hange clapped her hands, her enthusiasm undimmed. "Fantastic work, everyone! Textbook execution—well, mostly. And that abnormal! Did you see how it pivoted? Incredible mechanics."

Armin ran a hand through his damp hair, his gaze dropping to the ground. "We should move," he said quietly. "The noise will attract more."

Hange waved dismissively but stowed her notebook. "Of course, of course. But, Armin, truly—impressive leadership. You kept everyone alive."

Armin's jaw tightened at the praise, his grip on the reins white-knuckled. "It wasn't just me," he said quietly. "Everyone did their part."

"True," Hange agreed cheerfully, "but you've got the instincts of a commander. Maybe one day you'll be running the whole show."

Armin's lips pressed into a thin line. He nodded politely but didn't respond, instead focusing on his horse as he mounted. The praise felt undeserved, hollow even.

He had acted quickly—yes. Directed them well enough to survive—yes. But was it enough? Was he enough?

Armin's hands tightened on the reins, the leather creaking under his grip. Mikasa would've taken them all down faster. Eren wouldn't have hesitated for even a second. His own hesitation earlier, the split second he'd spent debating whether to engage or direct, could have cost them. What if Connie or Krista hadn't been fast enough? What if Hange had been caught before he could react?

I can't afford to hesitate, he thought grimly. There's no room for mistakes out here.

Reiner clapped a hand on his shoulder, pulling him from his thoughts. "Good call out there. But don't forget—Titans rarely travel alone."

Armin nodded mutely.

As they rode on, the smell of blood and steam lingered in the air, a grim reminder of what lay ahead. Armin's thoughts churned, heavy with self-doubt.

Meanwhile, Mike's group rode in steady formation, their horses' hooves crunching against the dry earth. Every now and then, the faint echo of a Titan's roar carried through the air, a grim reminder of the danger that lurked just out of sight.

At the front, Mikasa's eyes swept the horizon. Her grip on the reins was firm, the leather pressing into her palms. Her thoughts drifted—half on the present, half on Eren and Armin. They're fine, she told herself, over and over, but the knot in her chest refused to loosen.

Behind her, Jean's horse clattered noisily as he let out an exaggerated sigh. "Middle ground, they said. Strategic, they said. No Titans here, they said."

"Did you expect a spa day?" Ymir shot back, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "We're in a death zone. Maybe keep the whining to a minimum, horse boy."

Jean glared at her. "I'm not whining; I'm making observations. There's a difference."

Before Ymir could retort, Sasha's head snapped up, her posture rigid. Her nose twitched as she sniffed the air dramatically, her eyes narrowing.

"Oh, no," Jean groaned, throwing up his hands. "Please, not this again. Sasha, don't tell me you're smelling Titans."

"Three," Sasha said, her tone suddenly sharp. "Close. Over the ridge."

Jean opened his mouth to protest but was cut off by Mike's calm, authoritative voice. "She's right. Formation. Now."

The group sprang into action, years of training clicking into place. Mikasa unsheathed her blades with a whisper of steel, her horse shifting nervously beneath her as the air grew heavy with tension.

"Stay together," Mike commanded, his voice steady but firm. "If you split off, you're as good as dead."

"Great pep talk," Jean muttered.

A Titan crested the ridge ahead, its grotesque form towering over the grass. Two more followed, one moving erratically, its jerky movements a sure sign of an abnormal.

"Lovely," Ymir muttered, her grip on her gear tightening. "Why do we always get the fun ones?"

Mike didn't hesitate. With a whistle, he spurred his horse forward, closing the gap between himself and the first Titan with terrifying speed. His blades flashed, and the Titan collapsed in a steaming heap before anyone else could even react.

"Holy crap," Sasha whispered, her awe clear. "That was... terrifying. Incredible, but terrifying."

"Sasha!" Mikasa snapped, her eyes fixed on the abnormal now barreling toward them. "Focus."

The group split to flank the remaining Titans, their movements fluid but tense. Mikasa veered left, her horse kicking up dirt as she closed in on the abnormal. Jean followed, his horse lagging slightly.

"Try to keep up," Mikasa called over her shoulder, her tone clipped but steady.

"I'm trying!" Jean grumbled, his horse protesting as he pushed it harder.

Sasha darted toward the second Titan, her blades gleaming as she called back, "This one's mine!"

"You better not mess up," Ymir growled, following close to cover her. "If I have to save your butt, you're buying me a month's worth of food rations."

Mikasa tuned out the banter as she closed in on the abnormal. Its unpredictable movements made it a challenge, its arms swinging wildly as it thrashed toward her. She dodged with ease, twisting in midair as her gear hissed with bursts of gas. Every move was precise, calculated—like a blade slicing through water.

"Jean, take the right!" she shouted, signaling him.

"Got it!" Jean's voice wavered slightly.

The abnormal twisted suddenly, its massive arm sweeping toward Mikasa. She flipped backward, the momentum carrying her out of its reach. But as the Titan's other hand swung down, Jean froze, his hesitation costing him precious seconds.

"Jean, MOVE!" Mikasa's voice cut through the chaos.

Jean jerked back into action, narrowly avoiding the blow. His ODM hooks snagged a tree branch, nearly unseating him as he fumbled to regain control.

Mikasa didn't wait. With a burst of gas, she shot forward, her blades carving into the Titan's nape with a deadly grace. The creature let out a guttural roar before collapsing, its massive frame crashing to the ground with a tremor.

Mikasa landed lightly, her boots barely making a sound as she straightened. She turned toward Jean, her expression unreadable but her voice firm. "You hesitated. That could've gotten you killed—and us too."

Jean stumbled forward, his face pale but defiant. "I had it under control!"

Her eyes narrowed, her tone unyielding. "No, you didn't. Out here, hesitation is a death sentence. Next time, act."

Jean's jaw clenched, frustration flashing in his eyes. "Not all of us are super soldiers like you, Mikasa! Maybe if you trusted someone else to handle things, you wouldn't have to save everyone."

The words hit harder than she expected, but Mikasa didn't flinch. "This isn't about trust," she said coldly. "It's about survival. If you can't act, you'll die."

"And if you keep trying to do everything alone, so will you!" Jean shot back, his voice rising.

"Enough!" Mike's voice cut through the argument. "Save the drama for later. We're moving."

The group remounted their horses, tension crackling in the air like static. Mikasa avoided looking at Jean, his words replaying in her mind. Trust someone else.

Sasha's voice broke the silence, cheerful and oblivious. "Did anyone see that? I totally called the Titans before they showed up. Maybe I should lead this squad."

"Sure," Ymir drawled, her tone dry as dust. "Let's put the girl who smells Titans in charge. Brilliant plan."

Jean muttered something under his breath, earning a glare from Sasha. "What was that, horse boy?"

Mike ignored the banter. "Stay alert. There'll be more."

As they moved forward, Mikasa's gaze flicked toward the distant figures of Levi's squad, barely visible on the horizon. A silent prayer threading through her thoughts.

Survive, Eren. Armin. Just survive.

Jean rode beside her in tense silence, his earlier anger simmering beneath the surface. Mikasa didn't speak either, the weight of his words pressing against her mind. Trusting others didn't come easily—not here, not now.

On the other hand, the vanguard pressed onward across the open plains. Levi's squad moved like a machine, their formation tight and purposeful.

Eren sat toward the middle, flanked by Petra and Gunther. His fists clenched around the reins as he scanned the horizon. Tension simmered just below his surface—a mix of frustration and the ever-present desire to prove himself.

At the front, Levi rode with an ease that defied the danger around them. His gaze swept the terrain, every detail absorbed. The way he held the reins, his posture relaxed but firm, gave the impression of absolute control.

The silence was broken by Isabel's voice, vibrant and impatient. "Are we gonna see some action soon?" She rode just behind Levi, leaning forward in her saddle with a grin. "Feels like we're just out here for the scenery."

Farlan shot her a wry glance. "Careful what you wish for. Last time you got bored, we ended up chasing down a wave of Titans while you 'tested your limits.'"

"Tested my limits?" Isabel protested with a mock pout. "I call that honing my skills!"

Levi didn't turn but cut in, his tone dry as bone. "If that's your version of 'honing,' I'd hate to see you rusty."

Isabel grinned but wisely held her tongue, though her eyes glinted with mischief. "Still, a little action wouldn't hurt."

Her wish was granted sooner than expected. Levi raised a hand, signaling the group to slow as his eyes locked on the horizon. A cluster of Titans emerged from behind a line of trees, their grotesque forms illuminated by the midday sun.

"Form up," Levi ordered, his voice calm but commanding. "Three Titans. Eld, Gunther—flank left. Petra, Oluo—cover the right. Keep Eren in the center. Isabel, Farlan, stay sharp."

The squad moved like clockwork, their years of training evident in the precision of their movements. Eren's frustration bubbling as he watched the others prepare for combat.

"Stay in formation," Petra reminded him gently as she adjusted her gear. "Captain's orders are clear."

Eren didn't respond, his gaze fixed on the approaching Titans. "Yeah, I know," he muttered through gritted teeth.

"Watch and learn," Oluo declared, unsheathing his blades with a flourish. "This is how humanity's strongest gets it done."

"Careful, Oluo," Petra shot back. "Your ego's showing again."

"We'll let you brag later—if you survive this one."

The group launched into action, ODM gear hissing as they darted into the fray. Levi was the first to strike, moving with a speed and precision that seemed almost supernatural. His blades gleamed as they sliced through the nape of the nearest Titan, the creature collapsing in a steaming heap before it even had a chance to react.

The others followed his lead. Petra and Oluo worked in seamless tandem, their strikes fluid and synchronized. Eld and Gunther flanked efficiently, clearing threats before they could get too close.

"Farlan, to your right!" Isabel called. She zipped through the air, severing the Achilles tendon of a Titan that had begun to close in. Farlan finished it off with a clean strike, giving her a brief nod of approval.

"Not bad," he admitted. "Now don't let it get to your head."

"Who, me?" Isabel teased, her grin wide. "Never."

Eren watched helplessly from his position in the center, his hands clenched tightly on the reins. Every fiber of his being screamed to join the fight, to prove he wasn't just a liability being protected. But his orders were clear: stay put and survive.

When the last Titan fell, Levi landed effortlessly on a nearby branch, his blades dripping with blood. He scanned the area, his gaze ensuring there were no more threats before he gave the signal. "Regroup," he commanded.

Eren's frustration finally boiled over. "Why did you stop me from helping?" he demanded, his voice edged with desperation. "I could've done something!"

Levi's cold gray eyes locked onto him. "Your job is to stay alive. That's all you need to do right now."

Eren opened his mouth to argue but froze under Levi's unflinching stare. He looked away, his jaw tight with suppressed anger.

Isabel broke the tension with a grin. "Gotta admit, big bro—we handled that pretty well."

Levi's expression didn't change. "Try not to make me regret bringing you," he said flatly, though the subtle relief in his tone didn't go unnoticed.

The squad fell back into formation, the steady rhythm of hooves resuming as they moved forward. For most of the squad, it was another battle won. But for Eren, it was a bitter reminder of the gap between him and those he wanted to stand beside.

After a while, the groups regrouped.

Mikasa dismounted with her usual precision. The tension in her shoulders eased slightly as she caught sight of Eren and Armin among Levi's group. Both were unscathed, though their weary expressions told of close calls and relentless battles. Her relief was short-lived, however, as Levi began issuing curt orders.

"Keep moving. This isn't a break," Levi snapped, his gaze sweeping over the gathered soldiers. "Farlan, secure the perimeter. Petra, Eld, check the rear."

Isabel groaned audibly, adjusting her gear with a theatrical sigh. "More patrolling? Seriously? Come on, big bro, let me do something exciting!"

"You want exciting?" Levi shot back and gestured toward the disassembled ODM gear on the ground. "You can repair everyone's equipment after this."

Farlan called Levi over, pointing to something on a hastily drawn map. Levi strode toward him, his focus entirely on the discussion.

Isabel's eyes caught movement in the distance—a lone Titan lumbering toward the group, its grotesque form silhouetted against the setting sun. Her pulse quickened, and she grinned. Finally, something to do. Without hesitation, she mounted her horse and fired her ODM hooks into a nearby tree, propelling herself toward the Titan.

"Isabel, what are you—" Farlan started, but she was already gone.

Mikasa, standing nearby, froze for a heartbeat as she registered Isabel's reckless trajectory. Her breath hitched as she watched the younger girl launch herself straight into the Titan's path. Levi's head snapped up, his gaze darting to Isabel, but she was already too far away for even him to intervene.

Mikasa's body moved before she could think, her blades glinting in the fading light as she fired her ODM hooks. Gas hissed loudly as she shot through the air, her heart pounding in her ears.

Isabel closed the gap between herself and the Titan, her blades drawn as she aimed for its nape. But the abnormal moved faster than she anticipated, its massive hand swinging out in a blur. She dodged instinctively, the sudden maneuver throwing her off-balance.

Mikasa reached her in an instant. Just as the Titan's hand came crashing down toward Isabel, Mikasa's blade sliced clean through its wrist, severing its grasp. The Titan roared, staggering, and Mikasa didn't hesitate. In one fluid motion, she propelled herself upward and drove her second blade into its nape, severing the spine in a spray of steam.

The Titan collapsed with a thunderous crash, its body disintegrating as Mikasa landed lightly beside Isabel. She turned sharply, grabbing the younger girl by the arm and hauling her upright.

"What the hell were you thinking?" Mikasa demanded, her voice trembling with anger. "You can't just throw your life away like that!"

Isabel blinked up at her, wide-eyed and breathless. "I thought I could handle it," she mumbled, her usual bravado deflating. "I didn't mean—"

"You didn't think," Mikasa interrupted, her grip tightening briefly before she let go. "That Titan would've killed you if I hadn't been here. You don't get to be reckless—not with your life."

Isabel flinched, her shoulders slumping. "I'm sorry," she said quietly, the guilt in her voice undeniable.

Mikasa's expression softened, her anger giving way to something far more vulnerable. She released Isabel's arm, her voice dropping to a quiet murmur. "I'm just glad I made it in time this time."

Her gaze fell to the ground, her fingers brushing the hilt of her blade as a familiar ache tightened in her chest. A memory flashed through her mind—her sister's small, fragile frame, her cries fading into silence, and the cruel realization that she had been too late. Too slow. The bitter weight of failure clung to her chest, tempered only by the relief of this moment.

"Ackerman."

Levi's voice was cold and cutting, laced with tension. She turned to see him striding toward them, his expression dark as storm clouds. His gaze flicked briefly to Isabel, then back to Mikasa.

"What part of 'stay in formation' do you two not understand?" he demanded, his tone biting. "Isabel, if you can't follow orders, you don't belong out here."

"I'm sorry, big bro," Isabel muttered, her head bowing. "I didn't mean to—"

"Save it," Levi snapped, his glare pinning her in place before shifting to Mikasa. "And you," Levi said, turning to Mikasa. His tone was quieter, but it carried an edge of authority. "Taking that kind of risk wasn't necessary. If you'd missed—"

"I didn't miss," Mikasa interrupted, her tone calm but unyielding. "She was going to die if I didn't act."

Levi studied her for a long moment. Finally, he exhaled, his shoulders easing slightly. "You did what needed to be done." The words were clipped but laced with a grudging respect. "But next time, make sure it doesn't come to that."

Isabel glanced at Mikasa, her expression a mix of guilt and gratitude. "Thanks," she said quietly, her voice subdued. "I'll... I'll try not to be so stupid next time."

Mikasa's lips pressed into a thin line, but she nodded. "See that you don't."

As the group reassembled, Levi strode back toward the others, barking orders as he went. Mikasa watched him, her gaze lingering on the tension in his shoulders. His words had been harsh, but she'd seen the way his fists had clenched when he realized Isabel was in danger.

In the end, they weren't so different—both of them trying, in their own ways, to keep the people they cared for alive.

The eerie calm after the first wave of Titans was almost worse than the fight itself. The silence pressed down on them, broken only by the soft rustle of the wind through the tall grass and the occasional nervous snort of a horse. The squads regrouped and moved forward, the forest ahead looming like a gaping maw.

Mikasa's eyes scanned the terrain, her senses on high alert. A flash of movement caught her attention—a flicker of something too fast, too precise to be a normal Titan. Her grip tightened on her reins as her heart skipped a beat, but the movement was gone as quickly as it had appeared.

She shook her head slightly, trying to dispel the unease. Probably just a trick of the light. Still, she couldn't ignore the way her instincts screamed at her to stay sharp.

At the front of the formation, Levi and Hange exchanged a glance. Levi's expression was unreadable as ever, but Hange's lips twitched in a way that suggested she was suppressing more than just excitement.

"Something you want to share with the class?" Oluo muttered under his breath.

"Keep your eyes ahead," Levi ordered, his tone cold but with a subtle edge of caution.

Hange, for her part, looked like a child barely containing a secret. "Oh, you'll see," she said, her voice low and teasing. "If we're lucky, this will be a very, very interesting day."

Levi glanced at her. "You call that lucky?"

Hange didn't answer, her grin widening as she rode ahead.

The momentary peace offered an opportunity for the more boisterous members to let off steam—if only to mask their lingering nerves.

"Hey, Sasha," Connie called from the middle of the formation, his voice cutting through the quiet. "You look more terrified than usual. Did your dinner stash run out or something?"

Sasha gasped dramatically, clutching her chest. "Dinner stash? Connie, I'm offended. It's a food reserve—an essential survival tool!"

"Oh, of course," Connie said with a mock-serious nod. "A true warrior's rations, I'm sure."

"Laugh all you want," Sasha shot back. "When I make it back alive to my stash and you're stuck eating field rations, we'll see who's laughing then!"

Nearby, Jean groaned. "This is ridiculous. Why does Captain's squad get all the action? We're stuck here babysitting the middle formation while they're out slaying Titans like it's a sport."

"Maybe you're just not cut out for the spotlight," Sasha quipped, earning a round of chuckles from the others.

Jean scowled. "Oh, very funny. Let's see who's laughing when—"

"Oi!" Isabel's voice rang out from a distance, cutting Jean off. She was perched on her horse, waving enthusiastically in the direction of Mikasa's group. "You guys doing okay over there? Need a hand?"

Mikasa didn't respond, her focus still locked on the forest ahead. Behind her, Farlan groaned loudly, his exasperation audible even from afar.

"Does she ever know when to shut up?" Jean muttered.

"Not a chance."

"Pipe down, all of you," Levi's voice cut through the lighthearted banter. "Keep your focus. This isn't over."

The levity dissipated as quickly as it had come, the oppressive silence returning. Mikasa's gaze drifted back to the forest, unease prickling the back of her neck.

That flash of movement—whatever it had been—wasn't just a trick of the light.

Levi's gaze darted to the horizon as Erwin's voice cut through the air. "Levi, take your squad and investigate the movement reported up ahead. I'll divert the rest of the formation around the forest. We can't afford to risk the entire expedition."

Levi nodded curtly, as he barked out orders. "Petra, Gunther, Eld, Oluo, Eren—stay with me. The rest of you follow Commander Erwin's directive. Keep tight formations and stay sharp."

Mikasa's brow furrowed as she watched Levi and his squad veer off into the shadows of the forest. Something gnawed at her instincts—a knot of unease tightening in her chest. Without a word, she adjusted her position, subtly slipping into the trees, keeping her distance but following their trail. I can't let anything happen to Eren.

The forest was eerily quiet save for the occasional creak of tree branches and the soft thuds of hooves. Levi and his squad moved ahead cautiously, their ODM gear ready to deploy at a moment's notice.

"You think it's just another abnormal?" Oluo asked, his voice breaking the silence.

Petra shook her head. "Abnormals don't usually move this deliberately."

"Stay alert. Whatever it is, it's fast—and deliberate."

Levi brought his horse to a stop, his eyes narrowing as he dismounted. "Stay here. I'm scouting ahead. Keep formation and wait for my signal." Without waiting for a response, he activated his ODM gear and shot into the treetops, disappearing into the thick canopy.

The squad waited tensely, their horses shifting nervously beneath them. Suddenly, the air grew heavy, and the ground trembled slightly. A strange yellow light flickered in the distance, illuminating the forest in a sickly glow. The squad froze.

"What the hell? That's like my-" Eren muttered, his voice tense.

Before anyone could respond, the thunderous sound of something massive hitting the ground echoed through the trees. A blur of motion burst into view—a towering figure with golden hair. The Female Titan.

"Shit!" Eld yelled, launching his ODM gear to a nearby branch. "It's a Titan!"

"Not just any Titan," Petra said, her voice shaking as she drew her blades. "That's an abnormal—or worse."

The Female Titan moved with terrifying precision, her eyes locking onto the group. In an instant, she lunged, her hand swiping through the air with deadly speed.

"Spread out!" Gunther barked. The squad moved to flank her, but it was clear they were outmatched. The Female Titan's movements were too quick, too calculated.

Gunther attempted to get behind her, his hooks latching onto a nearby tree as he propelled himself toward her nape. But the Female Titan spun with impossible speed, her hand swiping upward to grab him midair. He narrowly escaped her grasp, but the force of her counterattack sent him crashing into a nearby tree.

"Oluo, cover me!" Petra shouted as she darted forward, her blades aimed for the back of the Titan's knees. Oluo launched himself from the opposite side, coordinating his movements with hers. Their blades connected, slicing through muscle, but the Female Titan barely staggered.

Instead, she retaliated, spinning and delivering a devastating kick that shattered a nearby tree and forced Petra to veer sharply out of range. Oluo, caught by the shockwave, crashed into the ground, his gear hissing as it malfunctioned.

"Petra! Oluo!" Eld called out, swinging in to intercept. He launched his hooks into the Titan's shoulder, aiming for her nape, but the Female Titan twisted unnaturally, her arm snapping upward to block him. Her hand caught his wires and yanked him downward, slamming him into the ground.

Eren's fury boiled over as he saw his comrades struggling. Without hesitation, he bit into his hand, the flash of lightning and steam signaling his transformation. His Titan form roared, charging at the Female Titan with unrestrained rage.

"Eren, no!" Petra yelled, but it was too late.

Eren's Titan barreled forward, his fists crashing into the Female Titan's torso. The ground shook with the impact, trees splintering under the force of his attack. For a moment, it seemed like he had the upper hand.

But the Female Titan moved with terrifying grace, dodging his next punch and delivering a precise kick to his leg. The bone shattered with a sickening crack, and Eren's Titan roared in pain as he collapsed to one knee.

"Get back!" Gunther yelled, swinging back into the fray, but the Female Titan was already on Eren. She darted around his fallen form, her movements surgical as she landed a devastating blow to his nape, severing the connection and forcing his unconscious human form out of the Titan's body.

"No!" Petra screamed as the Female Titan reached down, plucking Eren from the steaming remains of his Titan. She held him delicately for a moment, her eyes scanning him before lifting him to her mouth.

Steam hissed as her lips closed around Eren's unconscious body. The squad watched in horror as she began to run, her massive frame crashing through the forest with terrifying speed.

Mikasa's heart stopped when she saw the Female Titan burst through the trees, Eren clamped between her teeth like prey. Her breath caught, her chest tightening painfully as her mind screamed one thing: Save him.

Her legs moved before reason could stop her, her body propelled by instinct. She fired her ODM hooks into the nearest tree and shot forward, gas hissing loudly. The forest blurred around her as she moved with precision and fury, her blades drawn and ready.

"Eren!" she shouted, her voice raw and edged with desperation. Her eyes locked on the massive figure ahead, her thoughts a singular drive: He's not dying here. Not today.

The Female Titan seemed to sense her approach. Without slowing, the massive figure twisted her head slightly, those intelligent, cold eyes narrowing as if to acknowledge Mikasa. Then, with a fluid motion, the Titan's massive arm swiped backward.

Mikasa reacted instantly. She twisted midair, her body moving with unmatched agility as the Titan's hand came perilously close. The gust of wind from the swing nearly threw her off course, but she adjusted, flipping expertly to maintain her trajectory.

Her blades gleamed in the fractured sunlight as she launched herself toward the Titan's exposed Achilles tendon. With a precision born of years of training and raw talent, Mikasa sliced through the tendon in a single, clean motion. The Titan faltered, stumbling as her weight shifted unevenly. Steam hissed from the wound, but Mikasa knew it wasn't enough to stop her.

The Female Titan let out a guttural growl, her movements eerily controlled despite her injury. She crouched slightly, her massive muscles tensing, preparing to lunge forward again.

Mikasa didn't hesitate. She fired her hooks again, angling for the Titan's nape. Her heart pounded furiously in her chest as she prepared to strike, adrenaline sharpening every sense. The world around her seemed to slow as she zeroed in on her target.

But just as she was about to make her move, a blur of movement cut through her trajectory. Strong arms wrapped around her waist, yanking her violently out of harm's way. Her momentum was abruptly redirected, and she let out a startled gasp as she was pulled clear of the Titan's swiping hand.

"Gotcha," Levi muttered, his voice calm and low, a stark contrast to the chaos around them.

Mikasa's eyes widened in shock, her mind struggling to process what had just happened. She twisted in his grasp, glaring up at him. "Put me down! I had it under control!"

Levi landed lightly on a thick branch, his movements impossibly smooth despite the weight of another person. He set her down with practiced ease, one hand steadying her before letting go. His gray eyes met hers, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"Sure you did," he said, his voice tinged with sarcasm. "That's why you were about to be splattered into paste."

Mikasa's glare could have melted steel. "I wasn't going to get hit. You didn't need to interfere."

Levi raised an eyebrow, the smirk deepening slightly. "Oh, my mistake. I guess I imagined the part where her hand was about to turn you into a fine red mist."

"Eren's in her mouth!" Mikasa snapped, her voice rising with frustration as she pointed toward the retreating Titan. The Female Titan, even injured, was bounding through the forest with terrifying speed, Eren's unconscious form dangling from her teeth like a trophy.

Levi's expression didn't waver, though his gaze flicked briefly to the Titan. "Sounds like someone's a goner," he said dryly, his tone cutting.

"He's not dead!" she shot back, her voice unwavering.

Levi tilted his head slightly. "Someone's hopeful," he said, the sarcasm in his voice unmistakable. Without waiting for her response, he turned, unsheathing his blades with a practiced flick of his wrists.

Mikasa moved to follow, but Levi raised a hand, stopping her in her tracks. "Stay here," he ordered, his voice dropping an octave, the command leaving no room for argument. "That's an order."

Mikasa opened her mouth to argue, but Levi was already gone, a blur of motion slicing through the trees. She stood frozen for a moment, her frustration and worry swirling into a storm inside her chest. Her nails dug into her palms as she stared after him.

Her eyes flicked back to the Female Titan, who was already fading into the distance, her massive form weaving through the forest with terrifying purpose. Eren, hold on.

Levi moved through the forest like a streak of lightning, his speed and precision so extraordinary that Mikasa could barely keep track of him. He darted around the Female Titan with surgical intent, each burst of his ODM gear precise and calculated. His blades flashed in the fractured sunlight as he struck, testing her defenses, slashing at her arms and legs to keep her off balance.

From her vantage point, Mikasa could only watch in awe and disbelief. Levi wasn't just fast—he was beyond anything she'd ever witnessed. Every move he made was deliberate, his fluid motions almost impossible to follow. To her, he was a blur, an untouchable ghost dancing around a predator.

The Female Titan lunged, her massive hand swiping through the air with terrifying force, but Levi was faster. He twisted midair, his hooks firing into a tree as he narrowly avoided the crushing blow. His foot grazed a branch, and in the same heartbeat, he launched himself again, closing the gap to strike at her exposed knee. His blade cut deep, steam hissing as the Titan faltered, but she recovered unnervingly fast.

Levi smirked faintly, his voice low as he muttered, "Interesting. Let's see how you handle me."

The Female Titan roared in frustration, her eyes narrowing as she pivoted, using her arms to shield her nape. She lunged again, her movements faster and more calculated than before, as if she were learning from him. Levi shifted seamlessly, weaving through her attacks, slicing at her exposed joints to slow her down further.

Mikasa, watching from above, clenched her fists around her blades. She saw an opening—a chance to strike while the Titan's attention was on Levi. Without thinking, she launched herself forward, her focus locked on the Titan's neck.

Her attack was fast, but the Female Titan was faster. With a sudden twist, the Titan's massive arm swung toward Mikasa with bone-crushing force.

Mikasa's heart raced as she realized she couldn't dodge in time, the massive hand bearing down on her like a wrecking ball.

Then Levi was there.

In a blur of motion, he barreled into her, knocking her out of the Titan's path. The force of the move twisted his ankle at a painful angle as he landed, the sound of strained ligaments followed by his low, irritated "Tsk."

Mikasa's breath caught as she steadied herself on a branch, her wide eyes snapping to Levi. "You're hurt," she said, her voice edged with worry.

Levi didn't respond immediately, his expression taut with pain as he adjusted his stance. His gaze never left the Female Titan, who was already recovering from the last attack. "Focus."

Despite the obvious pain in his foot, Levi launched himself back into the fray. His movements remained precise but slightly less fluid as he adjusted for his injury. Still, he continued to press the Titan, his strikes relentless and methodical.

The Female Titan roared again, her frustration mounting as Levi dodged another swipe and maneuvered to her blind side. With a final burst of speed, he sliced through the tendons in her wrist, forcing her to release her grip on Eren. The limp, unconscious form of his comrade fell from her mouth, and Levi snatched him midair in one fluid motion.

"Mikasa!" Levi barked. "Retreat. Now."

Mikasa hesitated, her instinct to stay and fight warring with her concern for Eren. But one look at Levi, the steely resolve in his eyes, made her comply. She fired her hooks into a nearby tree, following him as he shot through the forest with Eren in his grasp.

The regrouping area was a flurry of activity as Levi and Mikasa arrived. Levi descended first, landing heavily beside the open supply cart. He staggered slightly as his injured foot hit the ground, his jaw tightening to suppress a groan of pain. Without a word, he tossed Eren's unconscious body into the cart, his movements brisk but deliberate.

Hange and the rest of Levi's squad rushed over, their expressions shifting from relief to concern as they noticed his limp.

"Captain, what happened?" Petra asked.

"Not now," Levi said shortly, leaning against the cart to steady himself. His hand rested briefly on his knee as he tested the weight on his injured foot.

Mikasa took a step toward him, her gaze flicking to his ankle. She opened her mouth to speak, but Hange was already there, a hand on Levi's shoulder.

"You're hurt," Hange said, her voice unusually serious as she studied him. "You need to sit down before you make it worse."

Levi waved her off, his face a mask of irritation. "I'm fine," he muttered, though his clenched jaw betrayed him.

Seeing that Levi was in capable hands, Mikasa turned her attention to the cart where Eren lay. Her stomach churned as she saw his pale, unconscious form. She climbed into the cart, kneeling beside him as her hands trembled slightly.

"Eren..." she whispered, brushing a stray strand of hair from his face. Her chest tightened with relief as she felt the faint rise and fall of his breathing.

Behind her, Levi leaned heavily against Hange as Petra and Eld supported him toward a nearby seat. His gray eyes flicked briefly to Mikasa before he muttered under his breath, "She'll be fine. Just keep moving."

But even Levi couldn't deny the ache in his foot as the adrenaline began to wear off, and the weight of the battle settled heavily on them all.

The faint rise and fall of Eren's chest was the only thing keeping her calm, though her hands trembled slightly as she brushed dirt from his face. The sharp ache of the battle lingered in her limbs, but it paled in comparison to the tight knot of worry in her chest.

"Mikasa!"

The sound of Armin's voice snapped her head up. Through the haze of the regrouping soldiers, she spotted him running toward her, his face etched with worry. Behind him were Sasha, Connie, and Jean, their expressions a mix of relief and exhaustion.

Armin reached her first, skidding to a halt beside the cart. His blue eyes darted between Mikasa and Eren, relief flooding his features when he saw them both alive. "You're okay," he breathed, his voice shaky but warm.

Mikasa nodded, her grip on the edge of the cart tightening. "I could say the same for you," she said, her voice softer than usual. "I was worried."

Armin managed a faint smile, though the tension in his shoulders didn't ease entirely. "We made it through somehow," he said, his gaze dropping to Eren. "Is he...?"

"He's alive," Mikasa assured him quickly. "But unconscious. Captain saved him from the Female Titan."

Armin's brow furrowed deeply. "The Female Titan..." He trailed off, his expression darkening as he pieced together what must have happened.

"Oi, Mikasa!" Sasha's voice broke through the tension as she and Connie arrived, their faces pale but lit with relief. Sasha's eyes darted over Mikasa's form, checking for injuries. "You're not hurt, are you?"

"I'm fine," Mikasa said quickly, glancing at them. "What about you?"

Connie waved her concern off with a crooked grin, though his knees buckled slightly as he leaned against the cart. "We're alive. Let's call it a win."

Sasha nodded, though her eyes lingered on Mikasa's face. "You look like you've been through hell, though."

Jean approached last, his steps slower, his eyes locked on Eren's motionless form. His usual scowl was absent, replaced by an uncharacteristic worry that etched deep lines into his face.

"He's alive," Mikasa said before Jean could ask, her voice steady but low.

Jean exhaled sharply, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly, though the worry didn't leave his face. "You sure you're okay?" he asked, his tone gruff but quieter than usual.

Mikasa glanced at him, her expression softening just slightly. "I'm fine," she repeated, though her voice lacked its usual steel.

"Good," Jean muttered, shoving his hands into his pockets as he looked away, his jaw working as if he wanted to say more.

The silence stretched for a moment before Sasha cleared her throat, her voice shaky but lighthearted. "So, uh... what's the plan now? Are we just gonna sit here and wait for the next giant disaster to roll in?"

Armin shook his head, glancing around the regrouping area. "We'll stay with the formation. Commander Erwin will have a plan to regroup and move forward. For now, we just need to make sure everyone's okay."

Mikasa's gaze shifted to Armin, her heart easing slightly at the sight of him standing there, alive and unharmed. "I'm glad you're okay," she said quietly.

Armin's eyes met hers, and for a moment, the weight of the battle seemed to lift. "Me too," he replied, his voice steady despite the chaos around them.

Jean finally broke the quiet with a dry laugh, his usual sarcasm creeping back into his tone. "Well, at least we're all alive to complain about it. That's gotta count for something."

Sasha snorted. "Jean's got a point. A rare one, but still."

Despite the tension, a faint smile tugged at Mikasa's lips as she glanced around the group. They were battered, bruised, and exhausted, but they were alive. And for now, that was enough.

Her gaze returned to Eren, and she exhaled softly, her hand resting lightly on the edge of the cart. "We'll get through this," she murmured, more to herself than anyone else.

And as her friends stood around her, their presence a small island of solidarity in the chaos, Mikasa allowed herself to believe it.

Some time later, the battered remnants of the expedition began their retreat. Commander Erwin rode at the front of the formation, his posture rigid. His voice had been calm but firm when he gave the order to fall back:

"We've lost too much today. We're heading back."

No one questioned him. No one spoke.

The air was thick with tension as the formation trudged through the forest, their horses moving at a somber pace. The once-organized ranks were disjointed now, many of the wagons carrying the injured—or the fallen.

The casualties were staggering. Soldiers who had been joking and laughing that morning were now gone, their names etched into the silence that hung over the survivors. The absence of their voices was louder than the distant Titan roars that occasionally broke the stillness.

Armin glanced around, his blue eyes wide and heavy with guilt. Every now and then, his gaze flicked toward Mikasa or Eren, as if silently reassuring himself that they were still there. Sasha kept her head low, her usual cheerfulness replaced by a haunted look as she clutched her reins tightly. Even Connie, who often masked his emotions with humor, was unusually quiet, his face pale as his eyes darted to the wagons carrying their injured comrades.

Jean rode in silence, as he stared straight ahead. His hands gripped the reins so tightly his knuckles were white. When he occasionally glanced back at Eren, his expression softened, worry flickering across his features before he quickly looked away.

The silence was broken only by the occasional command from Erwin, who ensured the formation stayed intact. His voice carried no emotion, but the weight of the decisions he had made hung heavy over the entire group.

As they passed through a clearing, the sight of scattered remains—a bloodied cloak snagged on a tree branch, a shattered blade glinting in the sun—served as grim reminders of the lives lost.

Armin finally broke the silence, his voice trembling but steady. "So many... we lost so many."

No one responded, but the weight of his words was felt by all.

Mikasa kept her thoughts tightly guarded, her face a mask of stoic calm, but guilt churned relentlessly beneath the surface. Every creak of the wagon wheels and every distant groan of the injured felt like a dagger twisting in her chest.

Her gaze settled on Levi, riding stiffly near the rear. His usual fluidity, the grace that made him seem untouchable, was replaced with measured, deliberate movements. He sat straighter than usual, his face betraying nothing, but Mikasa had noticed the way he'd landed earlier—how his ankle had twisted at that painful angle after he'd saved her.

Her stomach tightened at the memory. She could still hear his intake of breath, see the brief wince that flickered across his face before he pushed the pain aside. He hadn't needed to intervene, she thought bitterly. If she had just been faster, smarter, more precise, he wouldn't have had to push her out of harm's way.

This is my fault.

The thought struck her like a physical blow, her grip on the reins tightening further.

Mikasa's jaw clenched as she forced her gaze forward, her heart heavy. She wouldn't allow herself to look back at him again. The weight of her guilt was too much, and she didn't know if she could bear the sight of him pushing through the pain that she had caused.

I won't let it happen again.

As the walls of the city finally came into view, a collective exhale rippled through the group. They had made it back—but at what cost?

As they passed through the gates, medics rushed forward, their hands steady but their eyes betraying the urgency of the situation. Levi dismounted stiffly, and the moment his boot hit the ground, his injured ankle nearly gave way beneath him. He caught himself on the saddle, his intake of breath the only outward sign of his pain.

"Captain Levi," a medic said as she hurried toward him, her voice laced with concern. "Your ankle—you're injured. We need to tend to that immediately."

He straightened despite the searing pain. He didn't answer right away, his focus shifting briefly to the wagons behind him and the soldiers being carried away. His grip on the saddle remained firm, the tension in his knuckles betraying the effort it took to stay upright.

"Fine," he muttered finally, his voice low, clipped. "Do what you need to."

The medic stepped closer, reaching out to steady him. "Let me help you to the tent—"

"I can walk," Levi said. He took a step, biting back a hiss of pain as he forced himself forward.

Inside the medical tent, the air was thick with the smell of antiseptic and blood. Levi moved stiffly to the cot the medic indicated, lowering himself carefully onto it. The relief of taking the weight off his ankle was immediate but far from complete.

"You twisted it badly," the medic murmured as she knelt to remove his boot. Her movements were gentle but firm. "You're lucky it isn't broken."

"Feels broken," Levi muttered under his breath, the words barely audible.

The medic glanced up briefly, her lips pressing into a thin line before she returned to her work. "You're going to need to stay off it for a while."

Levi closed his eyes briefly, his head tilting back against the cot. "Just get it done," he said quietly, his tone betraying more exhaustion than irritation.

The medic nodded, working quickly to wrap his ankle. Her hands were steady, and she avoided speaking further, sensing his pain and his preference for silence. When she finished, she stood and handed him a pair of crutches.

Levi stared at them for a moment before pushing them aside. "I'll manage."

Mikasa stood near the wagons, her eyes catching every movement despite the fog of exhaustion clouding her mind. She couldn't bring herself to speak.

Her gaze was drawn to Levi as he dismounted. He moved with his usual precision, but it was different this time—stiff, deliberate. When his injured foot touched the ground, she saw the slight tremor in his leg, the tightening of his jaw as he steadied himself.

Her heart sank. He's in pain.

The captain didn't falter, even as the medics approached him with urgency. She heard snippets of their conversation as Levi waved off their concern at first. When he finally relented and allowed himself to be led toward the medical tent, his steps were slow, uneven, but resolute. Every movement betrayed the pain he was in, though his face remained composed, unreadable.

Her chest tightened. He got hurt saving me. Because I didn't listen.

Around her, the other cadets whispered among themselves, their voices tinged with sadness and exhaustion.

"Did you see how many didn't make it back?" Sasha's voice was soft, barely audible.

"I don't think I've ever seen Commander Erwin look like that before," Connie added, his usual humor completely absent.

Jean crossed his arms tightly, his brow furrowed in a rare show of vulnerability. "We barely made it. And even then..." His voice trailed off as his eyes flicked toward Eren, the worry on his face poorly masked by his usual scowl.

"I just—I can't believe so many..." Krista's voice wavered, and Ymir placed a steadying hand on her shoulder, her own expression grim.

Mikasa tuned them out, her focus snapping back to Levi as he disappeared into the tent. She wanted to follow him, to apologize, to say something—anything—but her feet wouldn't move.

She looked back at Eren instead, her heart heavy. I couldn't protect either of them.

The guilt and frustration churned inside her, a storm of emotions threatening to consume her. For the first time in a long while, Mikasa felt powerless. And she hated it.

**************

Levi lay on his bed. His ankle throbbed with every heartbeat, the pain refusing to fade even as he tried to rest. Yet, it wasn't the injury that occupied his thoughts.

He could still see it—the flash of Mikasa darting toward the Female Titan, her blades poised for the kill, and the terrifying instant when the Titan's massive hand had swung toward her. His chest tightened at the memory, a sensation he rarely allowed himself to acknowledge. He had acted without thinking, his body moving faster than his mind could catch up.

She was so close to dying. Too close.

Levi exhaled sharply, his fingers tightening on the edge of the blanket. He'd faced countless battles, seen too many comrades fall, yet the fear that had gripped him in that moment was unlike anything he'd felt in years. It lingered, gnawing at the edges of his carefully maintained composure.

Despite the ache in his ankle, a faint smile tugged at his lips, dry and self-deprecating. "Curse these feelings," he muttered to the empty room, his voice low and rough.

He let out a quiet sigh, his gaze drifting to the ceiling. He didn't have time for this—not for worry, not for attachment. But even as he told himself that, the image of her determined expression, her fiery resolve, refused to leave his mind.

Levi frowned at the knock on his door, his irritation flaring. Of all times. He swung his legs off the bed, the ache in his ankle making him wince. "Who the hell is bothering me at this hour?" he muttered under his breath, pushing himself upright.

Dragging himself to the door, he unlocked it with a twist and swung it open, fully prepared to scowl at whoever was on the other side. The words died in his throat as he saw Mikasa standing there, her posture tense.

Levi blinked, momentarily taken aback. He was still in his disheveled state—shirt half-buttoned, hair tousled from lying down—but he quickly recovered. His gaze swept over her before his lips curled into a smirk.

"Well, well," he drawled, leaning against the doorframe despite the dull ache in his leg. "You knocked. Thought you preferred the 'barging in' approach. Trying something new?"

Mikasa's eyes darted to his state of undress, lingering for a fraction of a second longer than intended before flicking away. A faint flush dusted her cheeks, but she didn't respond to his jab. Levi raised an eyebrow, studying her closely. Her guilt was written all over her face—her lips pressed tightly together, her hands clenched at her sides, and her usual composure slightly frayed.

Before she could get out a word, she started softly, "I'm—"

"Come in," Levi interrupted, stepping aside and motioning her into the room. His voice was quieter now, the usual edge softened. He watched her carefully as she hesitated for just a moment before crossing the threshold.

As the door closed behind her with a quiet click, the weight of the unsaid lingered between them, heavy and intimate. Levi's eyes flicked to hers, as he waited for her to speak.

Chapter Text

The door clicked shut behind her, the soft sound somehow amplifying the tension that thickened the air. Mikasa stood in the dim glow of the oil lamp, her arms crossed tightly over her chest as if trying to contain the storm of emotions swirling inside her. Levi leaned against the desk by the window, his sharp eyes fixed on her, reading her every move with quiet intensity.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The silence between them wasn't empty—it was loaded, heavy with everything unsaid.

"Alright, spill it," Levi said finally, his tone softer than usual but still carrying that edge of authority. His arms crossed over his chest, mirroring her posture. "What's got you knocking on my door in the middle of the night?"

Mikasa's lips pressed together tightly, her gaze dropping to the floor. She hadn't entirely planned what to say. She had just known she needed to see him—needed to say something after the events of the day. But now, standing in his presence, the words seemed to tangle together, unwilling to leave her throat.

"I wanted to check on you," she said finally, her voice low but steady. "Your ankle..."

Levi raised an eyebrow, his smirk faint but unmistakable. "Didn't take you for the mothering type, Ackerman."

Her eyes snapped up to meet his, her glare sharp enough to cut. "I'm serious."

"So am I." He tilted his head slightly, studying her. "If that's all, you could've sent a medic."

"It's not all," she said quickly, the words slipping out before she could stop them. Her hands clenched at her sides as she forced herself to meet his gaze again. "I needed to... apologize."

Levi's expression shifted slightly, his sharp features softening in a way that was almost imperceptible. He straightened from the desk, taking a step closer but stopping a few feet away, his arms falling to his sides.

"Apologize for what?" His voice was quiet now, the usual bite gone. "For saving your squadmate? For keeping Eren alive? You did what you had to do."

"No." Mikasa shook her head, her dark hair falling forward to frame her face. "For putting you in danger. If I hadn't—if I'd just listened—" She cut herself off, her throat tightening. "You wouldn't have gotten hurt."

Levi let out a soft huff, somewhere between a sigh and a laugh. "You think I'm mad about that?" He took another step closer, closing the distance between them until there was barely a foot of space left. "You're blaming yourself for something I chose to do."

Mikasa opened her mouth to argue, but Levi held up a hand, silencing her. "Listen, brat. Out there, we don't have time to weigh every choice. I saw that Titan was going to kill you, and I wasn't about to let that happen. You don't owe me an apology for staying alive."

"But—" she started, only for him to cut her off again.

"No 'but,'" he said firmly. His gray eyes locked onto hers, their intensity making her breath hitch. "You think I'm not used to getting hurt? It's part of the job."

Mikasa swallowed hard, her heart pounding against her ribs. "That doesn't mean I can just ignore it."

Levi's smirk returned, softer this time, almost teasing. "You're stubborn. I'll give you that."

"So are you," she shot back before she could think better of it.

For a second, Levi stared at her, and then—unexpectedly—he laughed. It was a low, quiet sound, more of a chuckle, but it caught Mikasa completely off guard. Her eyes widened slightly, her lips parting as she stared at him.

"Guess we're both hopeless, then," he said, the corner of his mouth quirking up. The tension in the room seemed to ease slightly, though it didn't disappear entirely. If anything, it shifted into something different—something heavier, warmer.

Mikasa hesitated, her gaze wavering as if the weight of her words was almost too much to bear. Finally, she took a deep breath and said, her voice barely above a whisper, "I need to apologize for... one more thing."

Levi's sharp eyes narrowed slightly, his head tilting just enough to signal his curiosity. "What is it?"

Her fingers tightened into fists at her sides, her nails biting into her palms as she struggled to force the words out. "For that day," she said, her voice cracking slightly. She didn't elaborate, but the weight of her unspoken meaning was palpable in the space between them.

Levi stilled, his expression unreadable, but something flickered in his eyes—an understanding that cut through the tension like a blade. He didn't respond immediately, instead turning and walking toward the door leading to his adjoining bedroom. His limp was faint but noticeable, and the creak of the floorboards seemed loud in the otherwise silent room.

Without a word, he stepped through the doorway, leaving the door slightly ajar behind him. Mikasa's heart pounded in her chest, unsure of whether she should follow. She lingered for a moment before her feet moved of their own accord, drawn to the pull of his presence.

When she entered, she found him sitting on the edge of the bed, one hand braced lightly on his knee. The lamplight cast soft shadows across his features, highlighting the sharp line of his jaw and the faint furrow of his brow. He wasn't looking at her—his gaze was fixed on some indeterminate point ahead, his expression distant, thoughtful.

Then he moved. His arm extended, his hand palm-up as though reaching for something—or someone. He didn't speak, but the gesture was clear.

Mikasa froze, confusion flickering across her face. She glanced at his hand, then back at his face, unsure of what he wanted from her. Still, something in his quiet insistence made her step closer, hesitant but compelled. Tentatively, she placed her hand in his, her fingers trembling slightly.

What he did next shocked her.

With a care that belied the strength in his grip, Levi brought her wrist toward him—not roughly, not forcefully, but with a kind of reverence that made her chest tighten. He stopped when her wrist was just in front of his forehead, the very spot he had once bruised with his grip during their confrontation. The marks were long gone, but the memory of his actions lingered like a ghost.

He closed his eyes and rested his forehead against the inside of her wrist, his breath warm against her skin. His hold was light, almost as though he were afraid she might pull away. He stayed like that for a moment, the silence thick with something unspoken, something raw.

When he lifted his head, his gray eyes met hers with an intensity that left her breathless. There was no smirk, no mask of indifference—just an openness she had rarely, if ever, seen from him.

"I shouldn't have hurt you," he said softly, his voice steady but laced with quiet regret. "I've carried the weight of a lot of mistakes, but that's one I don't want to carry."

Mikasa stared at him, her breath catching in her throat. She had expected many things—a brusque dismissal, a deflection, perhaps even indifference. But this? This raw, vulnerable sincerity—it was almost too much.

"It... doesn't hurt anymore," she said, her voice soft but trembling slightly.

Levi's lips pressed into a thin line, his grip on her wrist loosening but not releasing entirely. "Doesn't mean it didn't," he replied, his words carrying the same weight as a blade slicing through air. "I crossed a line I never should have. And if I could take it back, I would."

Mikasa's heart raced as she felt his grip loosen, his thumb brushing lightly over her wrist before he let go entirely. She wasn't sure what compelled her to stay rooted to the spot, but something in the way Levi looked at her—raw, vulnerable, yet still undeniably him—kept her from moving away.

Her thoughts spiraled, her mind flashing to the memory of Sasha's teasing words about Levi's reaction that day. Mikasa shook her head slightly, trying to push the absurdity aside, but the curiosity burned at the edges of her resolve. She bit her lip, debating whether to ask, then found herself blurting out the words before she could think twice.

"Sasha said... you might've been jealous of Jean."

Levi blinked, his expression blank for a moment before his eyebrows lifted slightly in surprise. Then, to her utter shock, he laughed—a low, gravelly sound that sent a shiver down her spine. He dropped his gaze, his shoulders shaking just slightly as he chuckled, the rare sound both disarming and intimate.

Mikasa's cheeks burned instantly, her attempt to play it off as a joke backfiring spectacularly. "I mean—it's ridiculous, obviously," she stammered, her hands lifting in a half-hearted gesture of dismissal. "I just thought—"

Levi cut her off by looking up, his head tilting just enough for her to catch the faint smirk tugging at his lips. His gray eyes met hers, and for a moment, they seemed to pull her in, intense and unyielding.

"Maybe I was," he said, his voice low and deliberate, the words hanging in the air like a challenge. His smirk deepened, and his gaze softened just enough to make her heart skip a beat. "What are you going to do about it?"

The question struck her like lightning, her face heating so quickly she was sure it was glowing. She opened her mouth to respond but no words came out, her thoughts a chaotic jumble. Levi didn't move, didn't look away—he just held her gaze, waiting, watching her reaction with an intensity that made her knees weak.

Mikasa's breath hitched, her pulse pounding in her ears. She thought she saw a flicker of amusement in his expression, but there was something else there too—something unspoken, something that made her chest tighten and her resolve crumble.

"I..." she started, her voice barely audible, before trailing off completely.

Levi's smirk softened into something warmer, his tone shifting as he added, "If you're going to say it's ridiculous, you'd better mean it. Because right now, you don't look so sure."

The heat in her cheeks intensified, and she tore her gaze away, her heart hammering against her ribs. Of all the ways this could have gone, she hadn't expected him to turn the moment on her so effortlessly. And yet, she couldn't deny the way her chest ached, her body betraying her with the slightest step closer.

He didn't move, but his presence felt overwhelming, his words echoing in her mind. What are you going to do about it?

Mikasa's fingers curled into fists at her sides, her nails pressing into her palms as she forced herself to steady her breathing. His question lingered, looping in her mind like a dare, and for a moment, she hated how easily he'd thrown her off balance. The flicker of amusement in his expression only made it worse.

But she wasn't about to back down. Not now.

She met his gaze again, her lips parting as she hesitated. The tension between them was electric, crackling in the space that separated them. Finally, she exhaled slowly, drawing on every ounce of courage she had.

"Well," she said softly, her voice steady despite the furious pounding of her heart, "if you were jealous, I'd say that's a little bold for someone who's been playing it so safe."

Levi blinked, the teasing smirk freezing on his lips as her words sunk in. For a split second, his composure slipped—a flicker of surprise flashing across his face before he regained control.

Mikasa felt a surge of adrenaline, a strange mixture of triumph and exhilaration at catching him off guard. The warmth in her cheeks remained, but it was different now, fueled by her own boldness rather than embarrassment.

Levi leaned back slightly, his weight shifting as he studied her, the corner of his mouth curling into a different kind of smile. It wasn't the teasing smirk from before; it was softer, more intimate, and far more dangerous.

"Safe, huh?" he said, his voice low and smooth. He shifted forward slightly, standing up, and closing the distance between them once more, his eyes locking onto hers with unnerving intensity. "And what would you call this?"

Mikasa's breath hitched as he leaned closer, his words grazing the edge of her resolve like a blade testing its sharpness. She felt the heat radiating off him, the proximity almost suffocating, but she didn't pull away. Instead, she tilted her chin slightly, refusing to let him see how much he was affecting her.

"Maybe," she said quietly, her voice daring and just a little breathless, "you should stop asking questions and find out."

The silence that followed was deafening, the weight of her words crashing down like a tidal wave. She couldn't believe she'd said it, but the spark in Levi's eyes told her she hadn't imagined the effect. For a moment, neither of them moved, as if the world itself was holding its breath.

Then Levi chuckled softly, the sound rich and warm, sending a shiver down her spine. "Careful, Ackerman," he murmured, his voice dropping to a near whisper. "You might just find out what bold really looks like."

And before she could process the full meaning of his words, Levi closed the remaining space between them. His hand came up, brushing a strand of hair from her face with surprising tenderness before his fingers lingered at the edge of her jaw. His touch was light, hesitant, as though giving her a chance to pull away.

But Mikasa didn't move. She couldn't. Her heart thundered in her chest, her breath shallow as she felt the faintest brush of his thumb against her skin. Her lips parted, her resolve wavering, and in that moment, Levi leaned in.

When their lips met, it wasn't rushed or frantic—it was deliberate, measured, yet undeniably consuming. The world seemed to fall away, the tension that had built between them unraveling with every second that passed. His hand slid to the back of her neck, anchoring her to him as he deepened the kiss, his restraint giving way to something raw and unspoken.

Mikasa melted into him, her hands lifting to rest lightly against his chest. She felt the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath her fingertips, grounding her even as her mind spiraled. For all his sharpness, all his edges, Levi kissed with a tenderness that made her knees weak.

When they finally parted, Levi didn't pull away entirely. His forehead rested lightly against hers, their breaths mingling in the small space between them. His eyes were half-lidded, his voice low and rough as he murmured, "Still think I'm playing it safe?"

Mikasa laughed softly, the sound shaky but genuine, and for the first time in what felt like forever, she didn't feel the weight of everything pressing down on her. "Not anymore," she whispered, her lips curving into a faint smile.

Levi's lips quirked into a faint smile at her response, but the spark in his eyes was anything but playful. His hand, still cradling the back of her neck, tightened just slightly as if tethering her to him. Mikasa felt her pulse quicken, her body betraying her resolve as she leaned into him.

The next kiss wasn't careful. It wasn't measured. It was all-consuming. Levi's lips moved against hers with a confidence that stole her breath, his other hand sliding to her waist to steady her as she wavered on her feet. Mikasa's hands gripped his shirt tightly, the thin fabric bunching under her fingers as she lost herself in the sensation.

Without breaking the kiss, Levi shifted his stance, guiding her backward. Mikasa barely registered what was happening until her calves hit the edge of the bed, and she stumbled slightly. The motion unbalanced her, and she fell back onto the soft mattress with a soft gasp.

Levi followed instinctively, catching himself on his forearms before he could crush her beneath him. The weight of him above her, his hands braced on either side of her head, made her heart race. His dark hair fell slightly forward, brushing against her cheek as he hovered over her, his breath warm and unsteady against her lips.

For a moment, neither of them moved. The tension between them crackled like a live wire, their gazes locked in an unspoken challenge. Then, slowly, Mikasa lifted her head, closing the small distance to press her lips to his again.

Levi responded immediately, his body shifting just enough to bring them impossibly closer. His hand slid to her side, his fingers grazing the fabric of her shirt, and Mikasa shivered under his touch. Her own hands found their way to his shoulders, her fingers brushing the nape of his neck as she pulled him deeper into the kiss.

The bed dipped slightly under their combined weight as Levi adjusted, his movements deliberate yet unhurried. The world outside ceased to exist; the only thing that mattered was the way they fit together, the way their breaths mingled, the way every touch seemed to ignite a fire beneath her skin.

After what felt like both an eternity and no time at all, Levi pulled back just enough to meet her gaze. His gray eyes were darker than she'd ever seen them, and the faint smirk on his lips was enough to make her breath hitch.

"Still think I'm playing it safe?" he asked again, his voice low and teasing, though it carried an unmistakable warmth.

Mikasa's cheeks flushed, but she didn't look away. Instead, she reached up, brushing a strand of his hair back into place. "Not even close," she murmured, her voice soft but steady.

Levi chuckled, the sound low and rich as he pressed a brief, lingering kiss to her forehead. Then, with a quiet exhale, he shifted his weight off her, rolling to the side and pulling her with him. Before she could process the movement, he tugged the blanket over them, cocooning them in warmth.

Mikasa found herself tucked against his chest, her head resting just beneath his chin. Levi's arms wrapped around her, his hold firm but not suffocating. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat against her ear was oddly soothing, and she felt herself relax into him despite the whirlwind of emotions still coursing through her.

The room was bathed in soft moonlight, the silvery glow filtering through the curtains and casting faint patterns on the walls. The silence between them was comfortable now, filled not with tension but with something softer, something unspoken but understood.

Mikasa shifted slightly, tilting her head to look up at him. Levi's eyes were closed, his expression uncharacteristically peaceful, though the faint furrow in his brow remained. She reached up, brushing her fingers lightly along the curve of his jaw.

Her touch light and hesitant, as though she might disturb the rare peace on his face. She let her hand drop back down, resting against the soft fabric of his shirt, but her gaze lingered on him.

Levi opened his eyes slowly, gray meeting her dark, curious stare. For a moment, neither of them spoke, the quiet intimacy between them saying more than words could. Then he let out a soft exhale, his voice low and steady in the stillness of the room.

"Thanks," he murmured, his tone carrying a weight that made Mikasa's chest tighten. "For saving Isabel. You didn't have to put yourself in harm's way like that, but you did."

Mikasa blinked, surprised by the sincerity in his voice. "She's part of the squad. I'd do the same for anyone."

Levi's lips quirked into a faint smile, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "It's more than that. Isabel and Farlan... they're not just my squad. They're..." He paused, searching for the right words. "They're the closest thing I've had to a family. I've already lost too many people. Losing either of them..."

He trailed off, his jaw tightening as if to keep the emotions at bay. Mikasa's heart ached at the vulnerability in his voice, the rare crack in the wall he kept so carefully constructed around himself.

"I understand," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. Her gaze dropped for a moment, and she let out a quiet sigh. "I had a little sister once."

Levi's brows furrowed slightly, a flicker of surprise crossing his face. He remained silent, giving her space to continue.

"She was... everything to me," Mikasa went on, her fingers absently tracing patterns against his shirt. "She was so young, so full of life. But one day, I couldn't protect her. I wasn't strong enough. And she was taken from me."

The words came out steady, but Levi could hear the faint tremor beneath them, the pain she carried so deeply hidden. He didn't interrupt, didn't pry; he simply listened.

"When I saw Isabel in danger today," Mikasa said, her voice thick with emotion, "it felt like losing her all over again. For a moment, I thought... I thought I'd failed again. And it scared me."

Levi's hold on her tightened slightly, his hand coming to rest lightly on her back. "You didn't fail," he said quietly, his voice steady. "You saved her. You were there when she needed you."

Mikasa's gaze lifted to meet his, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "She reminds me of her, you know. My sister. The way she smiles, the way she's so reckless but full of life. I didn't realize how much until today."

Levi didn't say anything. The words seemed to catch in his throat, too heavy or too inadequate for what he wanted to convey. Instead, he tightened his hold on her, his arms wrapping more securely around her frame. It wasn't crushing, but the quiet strength in his embrace spoke louder than anything he could have said.

Mikasa stiffened for a moment, surprised by the sudden firmness of his hold, but then she melted into it, her body leaning into the unspoken comfort he offered. Her hands, which had been resting lightly against his chest, moved to clutch the fabric of his shirt, anchoring herself in his steady presence.

Levi rested his chin gently atop her head, the faintest sigh escaping his lips as if letting out some unspoken burden of his own. His fingers shifted slightly against her back, a subtle movement that was both grounding and tender, as though to reassure her that she wasn't alone in carrying her pain.

Mikasa closed her eyes, her cheek pressed against the warmth of his chest, and for the first time in a long while, the ache in her heart eased just a little. She didn't need him to say anything—his silence was enough. His embrace told her everything she needed to know.

"Capt-," she stopped and corrected herself, "Levi," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

His eyes opened slowly, he didn't speak, but the faint curve of his lips was answer enough.

Mikasa smiled faintly, her fingers tracing idle patterns on the fabric of his shirt. "For someone who's supposed to be humanity's strongest, you're pretty good at this."

Levi snorted softly, the sound more affectionate than mocking. "Don't spread that around," he muttered, his tone dry but warm. "I've got a reputation to uphold."

Mikasa's laugh was quiet, her breath fanning against his collarbone as she nestled closer. The weight of the day, of everything they'd been through, seemed to melt away in his presence. For the first time in what felt like forever, she felt safe.

Levi's hand came up to rest against her back, his fingers tracing soothing circles as he exhaled softly. "Get some rest," he murmured, his voice low and steady. "Tomorrow's going to come too soon."

Mikasa closed her eyes, the steady thrum of his heartbeat lulling her toward sleep. As her breathing evened out, she felt his lips press briefly to the top of her head, the gesture so soft she almost thought she'd imagined it.

But she didn't. And as she drifted off in the comfort of his arms, the faintest hint of a smile lingered on her lips.

****************************

The first rays of morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the room. Levi stirred first, his breathing steady as his sharp gray eyes blinked open. He didn't move at first, his mind slowly registering the unfamiliar warmth pressed against him.

Then he saw her.

Mikasa's face was relaxed in sleep, her features soft and peaceful in a way he wasn't used to seeing. The faint rise and fall of her breathing matched the rhythm of his, her head tucked lightly against his chest. A stray strand of her dark hair had fallen over her face, and Levi's gaze lingered on her for a moment longer than he intended.

For someone who carried so much weight on her shoulders, she looked impossibly light right now, her guard completely down for once. It was a rare sight, one Levi found himself oddly reluctant to disturb.

He let out a quiet breath, careful not to shift too much and wake her. For all his usual insomnia, last night had been... different. Restful. Comfortable in a way he hadn't experienced in years. Maybe ever.

He leaned back slightly against the pillows, his eyes closing for a brief moment as he allowed himself to enjoy the stillness. It wasn't long, though, before Mikasa stirred against him, her lashes fluttering as her eyes slowly opened.

"Good morning," Levi said, his voice low and steady, a faint rasp from sleep still lingering.

Mikasa blinked, her expression drowsy and unfocused at first. Then, as the haze of sleep cleared, her eyes widened slightly. She sat up just enough to glance around, the realization of where she was hitting her all at once.

"I—" she started, her voice still hushed, before quickly trying to pull herself out of bed. "I should go before someone—"

Levi reached out with practiced ease, his fingers curling lightly around her wrist to stop her. "Relax," he said, his tone dry but with an undercurrent of calm. "Everyone's still asleep."

Mikasa hesitated, her cheeks warming as she settled back slightly, though the tension in her shoulders didn't ease entirely. "Still, it's not—"

A sudden noise from the outer office froze both of them in place. The sound of hurried footsteps grew louder, and before either of them could react, the door to Levi's adjoining bedroom burst open.

"Big bro!" Isabel's bright, exuberant voice filled the room, cutting through the morning quiet like a blade. She skidded to a stop in the doorway, her eyes widening as she took in the scene before her. Her gaze darted between Levi, sitting up in bed with the blanket draped loosely around him, and Mikasa, still tucked against his side, her face an unmistakable shade of crimson.

"Oh. My. GOD." Isabel's mouth fell open, and her expression shifted into something equal parts shock and glee. "Are you serious right now?!"

Levi pinched the bridge of his nose, his jaw tightening. "Isabel," he said, his voice dangerously calm, "get out."

Isabel ignored him, her grin widening as she pointed an accusatory finger at him. "You always tell me to knock, and yet you don't have a lock on this door? Hypocrite!"

"Out," Levi repeated, his tone sharper this time.

Isabel threw her hands up in mock surrender, though her laughter was impossible to miss. "Alright, alright! Sorry to interrupt. You two carry on." She winked dramatically, spinning on her heel as she made her way out of the room. But just as she reached the door, she turned back, practically squealing. "Big bro, I didn't know you had it in you!"

The door clicked shut behind her, and her muffled giggles could still be heard as she hurried back down the hallway.

Levi let out a heavy sigh, his hand running through his dark hair. "I swear, I'm getting a lock today."

Mikasa, her face still burning with embarrassment, started to sit up again. "I should really—"

Before she could finish, Levi rolled his eyes and pulled her back down, his arm wrapping securely around her waist. He tugged the blanket over them with an air of nonchalance, settling her firmly against his chest as though nothing had happened.

"Stay," he said simply, his chin coming to rest lightly on the top of her head. "She's already seen. What's the point in sneaking out now?"

The weight of the room's quiet settled over them, broken only by the faint sound of Isabel's muffled giggles fading into the distance. Mikasa groaned, her head sinking deeper into Levi's chest, as if proximity to him could shield her from the embarrassment that had just unfolded.

"I'm never going to live this down," she muttered, her voice heavy with resignation.

Levi, seemingly unbothered, let out a quiet hum of amusement. "Probably not," he said, the barest hint of a smirk tugging at his lips. "But it's not like you weren't warned about her. She's relentless."

Mikasa lifted her head slightly, shooting him a look that mixed frustration and disbelief. "Relentless? She's worse than that. By this time tomorrow, the entire squad's going to know about this. Farlan will play the voice of reason, but you know Isabel's going to dramatize everything. Sasha will get curious. And Jean—" She groaned louder, covering her face with her hands. "Jean's going to be insufferable."

Levi's smirk deepened, his tone turning teasing. "I don't know. I think Jean's more likely to sulk than be insufferable."

Mikasa pulled her hands away from her face, glaring at him. "Not helping."

Levi shrugged lazily, shifting slightly under the blanket as his chin rested comfortably on her head. "I'm just saying. Let Isabel have her fun. She'll burn out eventually."

Mikasa sat up enough to meet his gaze directly, her dark eyes narrowing in challenge. "Eventually? Levi, I've been with her all this time, and I already know 'eventually' isn't part of her vocabulary."

"That's fair," Levi admitted, his smirk softening into something closer to a wry smile. "But you've got a weapon against her."

Mikasa raised an eyebrow, her curiosity momentarily distracting her from her embarrassment. "What weapon?"

"You," Levi said simply, his tone shifting to something warmer. "She's got a big mouth, but you've got a sharp tongue when you decide to use it. You'll manage."

Mikasa blinked, caught off guard by the rare compliment. For a moment, she didn't know how to respond. "You think so?" she asked, her voice quieter.

Levi's gray eyes held hers, steady and unwavering. "I know so. And if she gets too much for you..." His smirk returned, faint but unmistakable. "I'll deal with her."

Mikasa's lips curved into a reluctant smile, the warmth in his tone easing some of the tension in her chest. "You'd really step in for me? Humanity's strongest, playing the role of peacekeeper?"

Levi leaned back slightly, his arms still draped around her. "I wouldn't call it peacekeeping," he said dryly. "It'd just be shutting her up before she gets us both killed with her squealing."

Despite herself, Mikasa laughed softly, her head falling lightly against his shoulder. "You make it sound like you're not already used to this."

"Oh, I am," Levi said, his tone laced with dry humor. "But you're the one who decided to save her. So, technically, you brought this on yourself."

Mikasa narrowed her eyes at him, though the faint smile tugging at her lips betrayed her amusement. "You're absolutely insufferable."

"And you're dramatic," Levi countered, the corner of his mouth twitching upward. "We make a good team."

She shook her head, her cheeks still faintly pink but her chest lighter. "A team, huh?"

Levi's smirk softened, and his eyes flicked to hers. "You have no idea, Mikasa."

****************************

The quiet warmth of the morning lingered in Levi's room, the soft golden light from the window casting long shadows across the floor. Mikasa stretched slightly against the cocoon of the blanket, her cheek brushing against the rough fabric of Levi's shirt. For a fleeting moment, she thought about staying—about letting this peace last just a little longer.

But the world outside the room was already stirring, faint sounds filtering in from beyond the walls. Mikasa sighed softly, her hands gently pushing against his chest as she began to sit up.

Levi's grip around her waist tightened slightly, enough to make her pause. "Leaving already?" His voice was low and steady, though she caught the faintest trace of annoyance beneath it.

"I have to," Mikasa murmured, her gaze dropping to where her hand rested lightly on his chest. "If I don't, someone else might walk in. Or Isabel might come back."

Levi's lips twitched into a faint smirk at the mention of Isabel. "Fair point"

She swung her legs over the side of the bed, adjusting the blanket around her shoulders. Levi's hand brushed against her arm as she moved, his touch lingering for a moment before he pulled back.

"Take it easy today," she said quietly, glancing back at him over her shoulder. "Your leg—don't push it."

Levi snorted softly, sitting up against the headboard. "I'll be fine. You're the one sneaking around like a fugitive. Watch yourself."

Mikasa rolled her eyes, her lips curving into a small smile. "I will." She hesitated for a moment, then turned fully to face him, her dark eyes meeting his. "Am I... going to see you tonight?"

Levi's smirk softened, and he tilted his head slightly, studying her. "Of course," he said, his tone low and even, but there was something unmistakable in his gaze—something steady, grounding. "You'd better show up."

Mikasa's cheeks warmed slightly, but she nodded, her voice steady as she replied, "I will."

With that, she moved toward the door, her footsteps light and deliberate. She pressed her ear against the wooden surface, listening intently for any signs of movement outside. The hallway seemed quiet, save for the faint creaks of the building settling.

Mikasa glanced back at Levi one last time. He was watching her, his expression unreadable but his gray eyes following her every move. She gave him a small, almost imperceptible smile before slipping out of the door, the cool air of the hallway meeting her as she closed it quietly behind her.

The corridors were empty, most of the recruits still sound asleep after the long and harrowing day before. Mikasa moved quickly but silently, her steps measured as she navigated the familiar twists and turns of the barracks. Every creak of the floorboards made her tense, her heart racing as she rounded the last corner toward her room.

****************************

When she finally slipped inside, closing the door with a soft click, Mikasa let out a quiet breath of relief. The tension in her shoulders eased for just a moment—until she turned and saw Sasha sitting cross-legged on her bed with a piece of bread in her hand, a wide, knowing grin plastered across her face.

Mikasa froze mid-step, her heart lurching in her chest. "Sasha?" she asked, her voice sharper than she intended.

"Morning," Sasha sang, her tone smug as she propped her chin on her hand. "So, how's Captain Levi doing?"

Mikasa's stomach dropped, and she let out a quiet curse under her breath. "What are you talking about?"

"Oh, don't play dumb," Sasha said, leaning forward as her grin widened. "I ran into Isabel this morning. Woke up early to grab a snack before breakfast." She waved the bread as if to prove her point. "She was practically bouncing off the walls, talking about some 'big bro and Mikasa' situation. She looked positively thrilled, by the way. Said something about catching you and Captain Levi in the act." She paused for dramatic effect, her eyes gleaming with mischief. "Care to explain?"

Mikasa groaned, burying her face in her hands. "Of course she did."

Sasha's laughter bubbled up, light and teasing. "So... you and Captain Levi, huh?" she asked, waggling her eyebrows. "I mean, I had my suspicions, but I didn't think you'd be so bold, Mikasa."

Mikasa dropped her hands, shooting Sasha a glare that would have sent most people running. "It's not what you think."

"Oh, really?" Sasha leaned back, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "Because according to Isabel, it sounds like—"

"Isabel exaggerates," Mikasa cut in, her voice sharp but flustered. She crossed her arms over her chest, trying to compose herself. "She walked in at the wrong time, that's all."

"Oh, does she?" Sasha said, her tone dripping with amusement. "So you're saying you did spend the night in Captain Levi's room?"

Mikasa's jaw clenched, and she turned away, busying herself with adjusting the blanket on her bed. "I'm not saying anything."

Sasha let out a delighted laugh, her voice muffled as she flopped back onto her pillow. "You don't have to. Your face says it all. I knew something was up when Isabel started squealing about you two."

"She was squealing?" Mikasa asked, her voice tinged with dread as she glanced over her shoulder.

"Like a pig who just found a buffet," Sasha replied, her grin so wide it was almost painful to look at. "You're not getting out of this one, Mikasa. You're officially the most scandalous person in this barracks, and I'm loving every second of it."

Mikasa groaned again, running a hand through her hair. "I don't know why I even bother trying to explain anything to you."

"Because you love me," Sasha quipped, her tone sing-song.

Mikasa shook her head, a reluctant smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "One word of this gets out—just one—and I'll make sure your food stash is permanently confiscated."

Sasha gasped, clutching her bread to her chest like it was her lifeline. "You wouldn't dare."

"Try me," Mikasa said flatly, though her eyes sparkled with the faintest hint of amusement.

Sasha tilted her head, her grin softening just slightly. "Come on, Mikasa, you know I wouldn't spread it around—"

"You totally would," Mikasa muttered, cutting her off.

Sasha gasped, clutching her chest in mock offense. "Okay, fair, but I promise I'll keep my mouth shut—on one condition."

Mikasa turned to face her, her dark eyes narrowing. "What condition?"

"You tell me everything later," Sasha said, sitting up again with a dramatic flourish. "Every detail. And if you don't, I might just accidentally let something slip to Connie."

Mikasa sighed, her head dropping into her hands. "You're impossible."

"And you're smitten," Sasha quipped, her voice lilting with unrestrained glee. "Don't worry, your secret's safe with me. For now."

Mikasa glared at her, though the heat in her cheeks made it less intimidating than she intended. Sasha, for her part, looked entirely too pleased with herself, munching on the stolen bread she'd swiped from the kitchen earlier.

"Fine," Mikasa said through gritted teeth. "But if you say one word to anyone—"

Sasha raised her hands in surrender, still chewing. "Not a word. Scout's honor."

Mikasa let out another sigh, collapsing onto her bed. As she stared at the ceiling, the faint echo of Levi's voice promising to see her tonight lingered in her mind, grounding her amidst the chaos Sasha had brought into her morning.

Sasha's smug giggle interrupted her thoughts. "Oh, this is going to be fun."

****************************

Mikasa and Sasha arrived at the dining hall early, the large room still quiet save for a few yawns and faint shuffles from the few recruits who shared their early-riser tendencies. Sasha, driven by her bottomless appetite, practically sprinted to the nearest table. Mikasa followed with a quieter step, her thoughts still mildly clouded from her chaotic morning. Sasha's stomach growled audibly, prompting an amused glance from Mikasa.

"I swear, you're a walking food vacuum," Mikasa muttered.

"I prefer 'efficient eater,'" Sasha shot back with a grin. "See? I told you this was the perfect time," Sasha said as she plopped down at a table near the far end of the hall, across from Ymir, Krista, Jean, and Armin.

Mikasa settled into the chair beside Sasha, casting a glance over the others. Jean was slumped over the table, his head resting in his hands, while Ymir looked half-asleep with her arm draped over the back of Krista's chair. Krista, as always, looked chipper and wide awake, while Armin had a notebook open, his pen moving steadily as he scribbled down notes.

"Morning," Krista greeted warmly, her smile lighting up her face. "You're up early today."

Mikasa shrugged slightly. "Sasha wouldn't let me sleep."

"Blame my stomach," Sasha quipped, grinning as she stretched dramatically. "I'm doing everyone a favor by not passing out from hunger."

"Right. Altruism," Ymir muttered, her voice thick with sleep as she propped her chin on her hand. "You woke us all up stomping around, you know."

"Ymir," Krista chided gently, though her tone was more amused than reprimanding. "Let her be. Breakfast hasn't even started yet."

Jean grumbled, finally lifting his head. "Why are any of us even awake this early? Nothing happens for hours."

Armin didn't look up from his notebook as he said, "It's the perfect time to get things done. No distractions."

"And yet, here we are," Ymir muttered, her smirk tugging at the corner of her lips.

Sasha leaned forward, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she glanced sideways at Mikasa. "Well, some of us have already had an eventful morning. Haven't we, Mikasa?"

Mikasa stiffened immediately, her glare snapping to Sasha like a blade. "Sasha," she said, her voice low with warning.

"What?" Sasha said, her tone feigning innocence but her grin betraying her amusement. "I was just saying—you seemed a little... distracted earlier."

Jean frowned, his confusion clear. "What's she talking about?"

"Nothing," Mikasa said quickly, her tone sharp as she sent Sasha another warning look.

Krista tilted her head curiously. "Are you okay, Mikasa?"

"She's fine," Sasha said, waving her hand dismissively. "I'm just saying, sometimes people have... unexpected mornings. That's all."

Armin glanced up from his notes, his brow furrowing slightly. "That's vague."

"Exactly!" Sasha said, clapping her hands together as if she'd proven a point. "Vague is all we need. Let's not pry."

Mikasa's glare could have melted steel, but Sasha was already pushing back her chair with a triumphant grin. "Anyway, I'm getting food. Don't wait for me!"

As Sasha bounded off toward the serving line, Mikasa let out a long, slow exhale, pinching the bridge of her nose. Jean looked at her suspiciously, but Ymir just smirked.

"Not bad, Mikasa," Ymir drawled, her tone teasing. "Whatever you're hiding, you've got the stone-cold denial act down."

Krista gave Ymir a gentle nudge. "Don't tease her."

Mikasa didn't respond, choosing instead to busy herself with adjusting the scarf around her neck. Armin, mercifully, didn't press the issue, returning to his notebook with a quiet hum.

The dining hall gradually filled as more recruits trickled in, the quiet hum of conversation building into a steady buzz. Mikasa remained at the table, engaging in polite but minimal conversation as the others debated everything from breakfast preferences to training schedules.

Then Levi entered.

The shift was immediate. Conversations lulled, laughter dimmed, and a few recruits visibly straightened in their seats as the captain strode into the room with his usual air of authority. Flanked by Hange and his squad, Levi's presence seemed to drain the room of its earlier chaos.

Mikasa's eyes flicked to him instinctively, and for a brief moment, their gazes met. The exchange was subtle—barely a second—but it was enough to send a ripple of warmth through her chest. Levi's expression didn't change, though his gaze lingered just long enough to be noticeable.

He moved toward a table at the front of the hall, sitting beside Hange and Farlan with his usual detached demeanor. The quiet held for a moment longer before the recruits, apparently deeming the "danger" passed, resumed their conversations.

At Mikasa's table, Armin was mid-sentence, gesturing thoughtfully as he explained something about Titan migration patterns, when Jean's voice cut through the noise with all the subtlety of a cannon blast.

"Hey, Eren, pass the—" Jean started, but his words halted abruptly as Eren reached out and snatched the last piece of bread from the plate.

"Why should I?" Eren shot back, his tone sharp, his expression defiant as he took a dramatic bite of the bread.

Jean's jaw dropped. "You're unbelievable," he said, his voice rising as he stood abruptly, the legs of his chair scraping against the floor. "You're so damn selfish! I've had to deal with you hogging food since the training corps!"

"Yeah?" Eren said, standing to match Jean's height, the tension between them thickening as the entire table turned to watch. "Well, maybe if you didn't whine like a spoiled brat all the time, I'd actually consider sharing."

Jean's face turned red, his fists clenching at his sides. "You wanna talk about whining? You whine more than anyone else here. And for what? Another chance to throw yourself into the jaws of a Titan?"

"Better than hiding in the back like some useless coward!" Eren shot back, his chair tipping precariously behind him as he leaned forward.

"Here we go," Ymir muttered, leaning back in her chair with an air of practiced nonchalance. She stretched her arms lazily behind her head, her smirk growing as the boys squared off like roosters in a yard fight.

"Do they ever stop?" Krista asked softly, her wide eyes darting nervously between Eren and Jean as if they might come to blows at any second.

"Nope," Ymir replied, popping the "p" with a smirk that suggested she was enjoying the show far more than she should. "It's like free entertainment."

"Entertainment?" Armin cut in, frowning as he glanced at the breadless plate in front of them. "It's just bread."

Ymir shrugged, gesturing lazily toward the pair. "Yeah, but bread's, like, sacred or something to those two."

"Sacred," Mikasa echoed flatly, leaning back in her chair with an air of exasperation as she watched Eren and Jean circle each other. "They're fighting over bread."

Sasha returned just then, her tray piled high with food, and glanced at the scene unfolding in front of her. "Bread?" she asked, her tone incredulous. "Are they serious? Bread isn't even that hard to get."

"Don't intervene," Ymir warned with a mock-serious expression. "It's a matter of pride now. You'll only make it worse."

"Oh, I wouldn't dream of getting between them," Sasha replied, dropping into her chair and immediately biting into a roll. "But this is embarrassing, even by their standards."

"Coward!" Eren yelled, his voice escalating to a near roar as he jabbed a finger at Jean. "Say that again, and I'll—"

"What?" Jean interrupted, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "You'll cry to Mikasa to save you? That's what you always do, right?"

Mikasa's eyes narrowed at Jean's jab, and she considered stepping in, but Ymir held up a hand. "Nope," Ymir said with a grin. "Let 'em go. This is better than the soap operas Krista keeps dragging me into."

Krista blushed. "I don't drag you into anything."

Ymir ruffled her hair affectionately. "Sure, you don't."

Meanwhile, Eren and Jean had moved from words to shoving, their hands grappling for control of the now-crumpled bread. The other recruits in the dining hall turned to watch, some laughing, others groaning in secondhand embarrassment.

Hange, seated across the room, glanced up from her conversation with Levi and raised an eyebrow. "Bread again?" she asked, bemused.

Levi, who hadn't even bothered looking, simply muttered, "Idiots."

"You could break it up," Hange suggested, her tone more teasing than serious.

"They can't break anything important," Levi replied, sipping his tea. "Let them wear themselves out."

Back at the table, Jean managed to wrestle the bread away from Eren with a triumphant shout, holding it above his head like a trophy. Eren, however, lunged forward, catching Jean by the waist and dragging them both down into a heap on the floor.

"Oh, for crying out loud," Mikasa muttered, finally standing as the commotion threatened to draw unwanted attention from higher-ups. "Enough."

Her tone wasn't particularly loud, but it was firm enough to cut through the chaos. Eren froze mid-grapple, his hand still reaching for the bread, while Jean blinked up at Mikasa from his position on the floor.

Mikasa crossed her arms, her dark eyes narrowing. "You're fighting over bread."

Jean, ever the stubborn one, shot back, "He started it!"

Eren immediately sat up, pointing at Jean accusingly. "I wouldn't have if you weren't such a selfish jerk!"

"Oh, please," Mikasa cut in, her voice low and sharp. "Both of you are acting like children. If either of you had half a brain, you'd realize there's more bread over there." She gestured pointedly toward the serving line, where the staff had just brought out another tray.

Eren and Jean both turned to look, their faces flushing with embarrassment as they registered the fresh supply.

Ymir snorted from her seat, leaning forward on her elbows. "Amazing. Truly groundbreaking"

Mikasa let out a quiet sigh, sitting back down when Isabel slid into the seat beside her with a grin that could only be described as devious. Everyone had once again busied themselves in conversations.

"Well, good morning," Isabel said brightly, her tone far too chipper.

Mikasa froze, dread curling in her stomach. "What do you want?" she asked flatly, not even attempting to mask her irritation.

"Joining you for breakfast, obviously," Isabel said, her grin widening. "After all, I had such an exciting start to my day. Figured I'd share the joy."

Mikasa groaned, rubbing her temples. "Please don't."

Sasha returned just in time, her plate piled high with food. "Oh, Isabel, you're here! Great timing."

"Isn't it?" Isabel said, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she leaned closer to Mikasa. "So... how was the rest of your morning?"

Mikasa's glare could have frozen fire, but Isabel was undeterred. "Relax," Isabel said, waving her hand. "I'm not going to tell anyone. I mean, unless you want me to."

Across the room, Levi's gaze flicked toward them, his expression unreadable. Mikasa caught his eye and gave him a pleading look, her silent "save me" clear as day.

Levi muttered something under his breath, drawing Hange's attention.

"Hm?" Hange said, her eyes narrowing with curiosity. "What's that, Levi? Something interesting?"

"Nothing," Levi replied curtly, his tone flat.

Hange smirked, clearly unconvinced. "Well, whatever it is, I'll figure it out sooner or later."

Levi shot her a glare, but Hange simply chuckled, turning back to her meal.

Back at the table, Isabel's grin softened slightly as she placed a hand on Mikasa's arm. "Hey, seriously. I won't say anything. I promise."

Mikasa looked at her, her expression wary but slightly softened by the sincerity in Isabel's tone. "Thanks," she said quietly.

Isabel's grin returned almost immediately. "Of course. But that doesn't mean I won't enjoy watching you squirm a little."

Mikasa groaned, burying her face in her hands as Sasha snickered beside her. "You're the worst."

"Love you too," Isabel quipped, laughing as she leaned back in her chair.

Mikasa sighed deeply, her cheeks burning as she caught Levi's gaze again. His expression was as unreadable as ever, but the faintest twitch of his lips told her he was enjoying this far more than he'd admit.

****************************

The crisp morning air carried the sounds of the cadets' training—clanging of gear, shouts of encouragement, and the occasional grunt of exertion. Levi stood at the edge of the field, his arms crossed over his chest as he leaned against a low wooden fence. Though his ankle wasn't fully healed, the thought of staying in his quarters all day had been intolerable. Watching the cadets train wasn't exactly thrilling, but it was better than the alternative.

His sharp eyes scanned the recruits, noting their techniques, errors, and potential. Most were passable, a few were impressive, and some... well, some needed a miracle. His gaze stopped on Mikasa, who moved through the obstacle course with a grace and efficiency that made her look as though she wasn't trying at all.

Effortless.

Her balance was impeccable as she leapt from post to post, her ODM gear hissing as she zipped through the mock Titan targets, slicing each one cleanly in half. The determination etched on her face only enhanced her skill. Levi's lips twitched into the faintest smirk. That's my girl, he thought.

"Captain!"

Levi's smirk vanished, replaced by a flicker of irritation. He turned his head to see Eren jogging toward him, his eyes bright with a mix of excitement and awe. The boy's enthusiasm was palpable, and Levi suppressed the urge to sigh. Hero worship—just what he needed this morning.

"Oi, Mikasa!" Eren called over his shoulder, waving for her to follow. Mikasa landed lightly on the ground as she glanced toward Levi. Something flickered in her eyes—annoyance to see him out of bed, maybe—but she followed Eren without hesitation. Armin trailed after them, though he hung back slightly, as if sensing the tension in Levi's stance.

As Eren approached, Levi's gaze flicked to Mikasa. His sharp features softened imperceptibly for a moment, a brief reprieve from his usual cold demeanor. But as soon as his eyes shifted back to Eren, the hardness returned.

Eren stopped a few feet away, standing at attention like a soldier before a general. Mikasa stood beside him, her posture relaxed but her gaze alert.

"Captain Levi," Eren began, his voice filled with earnest gratitude. "I wanted to thank you—for saving me from the Female Titan. I—I know you got hurt because of me, and—"

Levi held up a hand, cutting him off. "Tch. Don't start with that crap," he said, his tone flat but firm. "I didn't get hurt because of you. I got hurt because I chose to take the risk. End of story."

Eren faltered, his eyes darting to Mikasa as if seeking backup. She said nothing, her expression unreadable.

Levi's gaze shifted to her briefly before he continued. "If you want to thank me, then be smarter out there. Don't make the same mistakes."

"Yes, sir," Eren said quickly, his back straightening. "I'll do better."

Levi's eyes narrowed slightly. "You'd better. We don't have time to waste on half-assed soldiers."

Eren glanced at Mikasa again, nudging her with his elbow. "You too, Mikasa. Thank him."

Mikasa shot Eren a look that could've withered a Titan, but she turned to Levi anyway. "Thank you, Captain," she said, her voice steady but clipped. "For everything."

Levi's gaze softened just slightly as he looked at her, but before she could notice, he schooled his expression back into its usual cold mask. "Don't bother," he said, waving her off. "Just focus on staying alive out there. Both of you."

"Yes, sir," they chorused, raising their fists to their hearts in the Survey Corps salute.

Levi nodded curtly, his eyes lingering on Mikasa a moment longer than necessary before he turned away. "Get back to training," he ordered, his voice sharp.

As Eren and Mikasa moved to leave, Levi watched them go, his gaze fixed on Mikasa's retreating figure. His thoughts drifted to their shared moments in the early hours of the morning—moments where the weight of the world didn't press so heavily on their shoulders, where he could let himself feel something other than duty.

He scowled to himself, pushing the thought away. Not now.

Still, as he leaned back against the fence and watched her take to the training course again, a flicker of longing stirred in his chest. The field was loud, chaotic, and demanding—but all Levi could think about was the quiet warmth of those stolen moments.

He'd been lost in his thoughts, weighing the events of the past weeks, when a familiar group of figures approached from the other side of the field.

Petra, Eld, Gunther, and Oluo made their way toward him, their postures a mix of sheepishness and apprehension. They halted a few feet away, saluting in unison.

"Captain," Eld said, his tone respectful but cautious.

Levi's eyes narrowed as he straightened, crossing his arms over his chest. He let the silence linger just long enough to make them uneasy before speaking. "Tch. You're finally here. Took you long enough."

Petra's brows furrowed slightly, and she glanced at the others before stepping forward. "Captain, if this is about—"

Levi cut her off with a sharp look. "Don't make excuses, Petra. All four of you—what the hell were you doing out there?" His voice was low but carried a bite that made even Oluo, normally smug and full of bravado, shrink slightly. "You're my handpicked squad. You're supposed to be the best. And yet, against the Female Titan, you were one step away from getting yourselves killed."

Gunther opened his mouth to respond, but Levi's glare silenced him immediately.

"Spare me the excuses," Levi said, his voice colder now. "I've heard enough. You think I don't know how dangerous it was? How strong she was? I know better than any of you. But that doesn't change the fact that you let your guard down."

His gaze swept over them, his gray eyes piercing. "You've fought Titans before. You've survived the horrors outside these walls. You should know by now that the second you underestimate your enemy is the second you lose everything."

Petra lowered her head, her hands clenched at her sides. "We're sorry, Captain," she said quietly. "We should have done better."

Levi's expression didn't soften. "Damn right you should've. Do you think apologies will save you out there? Or save your comrades? Next time, there won't be someone to pull your asses out of the fire."

Oluo shifted uncomfortably, glancing away. Eld's jaw tightened, though he nodded solemnly. Gunther's brows knit together, his shoulders stiffening under Levi's scrutiny.

"You're not just soldiers," Levi continued, his voice quieter but no less sharp. "You're my squad. That means something. It means you're better than this. So if you're not, you'd better get there. Fast."

The weight of his words hung heavily in the air, pressing down on them like a physical force. Then, after a moment, Levi sighed softly, the sound barely audible. "Starting tomorrow, your training schedule will be adjusted. Longer hours, harder drills, and no breaks until I say so."

The four of them exchanged uneasy glances, but none of them dared protest. They knew better than to argue when Levi made up his mind.

"Dismissed," Levi said curtly, his tone final.

They saluted again, their movements sharp but subdued. As they turned to leave, Petra hesitated, glancing back at him. For a moment, her expression softened, and she gave him a small, almost imperceptible nod. The others followed her lead, their steps lighter than before, as though they understood the weight of his reprimand came from something deeper than anger.

Levi watched them go, his arms still crossed over his chest. His expression was unreadable, but inside, a familiar ache gnawed at him. The memory of the Female Titan's rampage flickered in his mind—Petra thrown against a tree, Eld's desperate counterattacks, Gunther's quick but futile moves, Oluo's bravado crumbling under her strength. They had survived, but barely. The thought of losing them...

He clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms. Tch. He hated this feeling—this gnawing fear, this sense of helplessness. They were his squad, his responsibility. And if he couldn't keep them alive...

He exhaled sharply, forcing the thought away. No. They wouldn't die. Not if he could help it.

Levi's gaze shifted back to the training field, his expression hardening once more. The world didn't slow down for grief or sentimentality. And neither could he.

****************************

The dining hall bustled with life, the aroma of roasted meat and freshly baked bread wafting through the air as cadets and officers alike gathered for the evening meal. Mikasa sat at her usual table, flanked by Sasha, Armin, and Connie, the buzz of conversation washing over her like a distant hum. She glanced at the doorway out of habit, her dark eyes scanning the room.

He wasn't there.

Her gaze lingered on the entrance for a moment longer before she turned her attention back to her plate. She wasn't sure why she'd expected him to join them. Levi rarely ate in the dining hall, preferring solitude over the chaotic din of the shared space. And yet, the faintest thread of disappointment coiled in her chest.

"You're staring awfully hard at that door," Isabel's teasing voice broke through her thoughts, accompanied by the scrape of a chair as she slid into the seat beside Mikasa. Her grin was wide, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Missing someone?"

Mikasa's fork paused mid-air, her expression flattening into a sharp glare. "No."

"Uh-huh," Isabel said, dragging out the syllables as she propped her chin on her hand. "You sure about that?"

Eren perked up at the exchange, her interest piqued. "Who's she missing?"

"Nobody," Mikasa said quickly, her voice clipped. She returned to her meal, her movements deliberate as if focusing on her food might end the conversation.

Isabel, however, was relentless. "Oh, come on, Mikasa. I saw that look. You were hoping for someone, weren't you? Maybe someone with a bad ankle and a—"

"Enough," Mikasa said firmly, her glare cutting Isabel off before she could finish. The sharpness in her tone silenced the younger girl, though Isabel's smirk remained firmly in place.

Armin coughed awkwardly, clearly trying to redirect the conversation. "So, Sasha," he began, glancing toward her tray. "How many rolls is that now?"

Sasha grinned, holding up a half-eaten roll as if it were a prize. "Not enough," she declared before taking another bite.

Mikasa sighed, grateful for the change in topic. Still, she couldn't shake the faint heat that lingered on her cheeks, or the way Isabel's words echoed in her mind. She was missing him.

****************************

Later that night, the barracks were quiet, the rhythmic sound of Sasha's soft breathing filling the small room. Mikasa sat on the edge of her bed, the faint glow of moonlight spilling through the window as she laced her boots with practiced ease. She moved quietly, careful not to disturb her roommate. The last thing she needed was Sasha waking up and asking questions.

As she stood, Sasha's voice cut through the silence, low and teasing. "Take care of him nice, alright?"

Mikasa froze, her heart skipping a beat as she turned to see Sasha still sprawled in her bed, her head buried in her pillow. One of her eyes cracked open, glinting with mischief in the dim light.

"I thought you were asleep," Mikasa said flatly, her voice barely above a whisper.

Sasha yawned, stretching lazily before settling back into the blankets. "I was, but you're not exactly subtle, Mikasa." Her smirk widened, though her eyes remained closed. "Don't worry, I won't tell anyone. But seriously—make sure he eats something. He's probably skipping meals again."

Mikasa stared at her, torn between annoyance and resignation. She didn't bother arguing. With a quiet sigh, she turned and slipped out of the room, her boots making soft thuds against the wooden floor as she made her way down the hallway.

The kitchen was dimly lit, the faint flicker of a lantern casting long shadows across the counters. Mikasa moved efficiently, her hands deftly assembling a small tray with bread, cheese, and a few pieces of fruit. She added a mug of tea, carefully balancing the tray as she turned to leave.

"Late-night snack?"

Mikasa nearly dropped the tray at the sudden voice. She spun around to see Hange leaning casually against the doorway, their inquisitive eyes gleaming in the low light.

"I—" Mikasa stammered, clutching the tray tightly. "Sasha was hungry."

Hange raised an eyebrow, her expression unreadable for a moment before a wide grin spread across her face. "Sasha, huh? And here I thought you were sneaking off to feed a certain captain."

Mikasa's cheeks burned, her grip tightening on the tray. "I don't know what you're talking about," she said stiffly, her voice tinged with defensiveness.

Hange laughed, the sound light and unbothered. She waved a hand dismissively. "Relax, Mikasa. I won't say anything. But whoever you're taking that to..." She leaned in slightly, her grin turning playful. "Make sure they actually eat it, okay? He has a habit of forgetting."

Mikasa's lips parted, but no words came out. Instead, she nodded once, her movements quick and precise. Hange straightened, giving her a mock salute as she stepped aside to let her pass.

"Good luck," she called after her, her tone teasing but kind.

Mikasa didn't respond, her footsteps echoing softly in the empty hallway as she made her way toward Levi's office.

****************************

The faint light under the door signaled Levi was still awake. Mikasa hesitated outside his office, the tray balanced in her hands as she debated whether or not to knock. Her heart raced—a ridiculous reaction, she thought, for something as simple as bringing him food. But nothing about this was simple anymore, not after everything they'd shared.

Taking a steady breath, she raised her fist and knocked.

"Come in," Levi's familiar, gravelly voice called.

Mikasa nudged the door open with her shoulder, stepping inside. Levi sat behind his desk, papers strewn across it in what was probably his version of chaos. His sharp eyes flicked up to her, and for a brief moment, his expression softened—just enough for her to notice.

"Well, you didn't flake," he said, leaning back in his chair. "Figured I'd have to come find you."

"I said I'd be here, didn't I?" Mikasa replied, stepping closer.

"People say a lot of things," Levi drawled, his gaze dropping to the tray in her hands. "What's that?"

Mikasa raised an eyebrow, stepping closer. "You didn't come to dinner."

"And?" Levi drawled, tilting his head slightly. His gaze flicked to the tray she carried. "You brought me a bedtime snack? How thoughtful."

"You haven't eaten all day," Mikasa replied, her voice steady as she placed the tray on his desk. She caught the faint twitch of his lips and resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "Don't start."

Levi's smirk grew marginally as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk. "You've been keeping track, huh? Didn't realize you were my personal nutritionist now."

"Someone has to be," she shot back, narrowing her eyes at him. "Just making sure you don't get in the way of everyone else's work because you're too stubborn to take care of yourself."

He let out a quiet "tch," but his hand moved toward the tea anyway. He took a sip, his gaze lingering on her over the rim of the cup. "And here I thought you came to see me out of affection."

Mikasa froze, her cheeks warming. Levi didn't smirk this time—he just watched her, his expression unreadable but undeniably teasing. She cleared her throat and crossed her arms. "You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

"Maybe," he said, his voice quieter now, though the teasing lilt remained. He reached for the bread, breaking off a small piece and popping it into his mouth. "Satisfied?"

Mikasa nodded, a small smile tugging at her lips. "For now."

Levi's lips quirked into a faint smirk, and he picked up the tea she'd brought, taking a sip. "Always so thoughtful. Do I thank you now, or wait for the invoice?"

Mikasa raised an eyebrow, her expression deadpan. "You could just eat instead of talking."

Her eyes flicked to the tea cup as Levi reached for it, his fingers curling around it in that peculiar, precise way she'd noticed before. She watched the way his hand cradled the side, his thumb barely brushing the rim. It wasn't casual—it was deliberate, practiced, careful.

"You really have an odd way of holding a cup," she murmured before she could stop herself. Her tone wasn't mocking, but curious.

Levi paused, his gaze cutting to her with a sharpness that almost made her regret the comment. He didn't retort immediately, which surprised her. Instead, he set the cup down with deliberate care, his movements slower than usual. For a moment, the room felt heavier, as though her words had pressed on a wound she hadn't meant to touch.

Levi leaned back in his chair, his expression unreadable. "It's not odd," he said finally, his voice quieter. "I hold it like that so it doesn't break."

Mikasa tilted her head slightly. "Why would it break?"

He let out a faint "tch," not quite meeting her eyes. "When I was a kid in the Underground, my mother and I used to drink tea—or something close to it—together. Cheap stuff. Didn't even taste good, but it was warm. She'd hold her cup a certain way—elegant, you know?" He glanced at her, as if expecting her to scoff, but she didn't. She simply listened.

"I saved up some money once—scraped together enough from whatever I could find—and bought black tea. Real stuff. Even got a set of cups to go with it. Thought it'd make her happy." Levi's voice dipped slightly, and he stared at the papers on his desk as if they could anchor him. "She died not long after."

Mikasa stayed silent, her chest tightening at the quiet way he spoke, as though he were unspooling pieces of himself he didn't let many see.

"After she passed," Levi continued, his voice steady but distant, "I tried using one of the cups. Thought it might help. But when I grabbed it by the handle, the damn thing snapped in my hand. Cheap garbage. Couldn't afford better. Made a mess, and... I just sat there, staring at the pieces." He finally looked at her, his gray eyes unreadable. "Since then, I've held cups like this. Can't trust the handle."

Mikasa's throat felt tight, but she swallowed the ache down, her voice soft as she said, "Your mother sounds... elegant." She hesitated before adding, "You must take after her."

Levi's gaze lingered on her for a moment, his lips pressing into a thin line. "Maybe," he said finally, his tone unreadable. "She deserved better than what she got."

Mikasa had heard bits and pieces about Levi's past before—from Petra, in passing—but she'd never brought it up. She'd always known he, Farlan, and Isabel had come from the Underground, but she hadn't thought much beyond the fact that their lives had likely been harsh. Now, faced with this glimpse into his childhood, she felt a pang of sadness for the boy he'd been.

A question hovered on the tip of her tongue, but she hesitated, unsure if it was her place to ask. Who was his father? Did Levi even know? Before she could decide whether or not to speak, Levi answered her unspoken thoughts.

"My mother was a prostitute," he said bluntly, his voice as steady as if he were reciting a report. "So no, I don't know who my father is. Doesn't matter. Never did."

Mikasa blinked, her heart sinking further. The weight of his words settled heavily in the room, and she didn't know what to say. Anything she could think of felt inadequate. Instead, she let the silence stretch, hoping it conveyed the understanding she couldn't put into words.

Levi shifted, leaning forward slightly as a faint smirk tugged at his lips. "Don't look at me like that. Not fishing for pity, Mikasa."

"I'm not," Mikasa said quickly, her voice steady. "I just... I didn't know."

"Now you do," Levi said, his tone dry but lacking its usual sharpness. He reached for the cup again, holding it with that same deliberate care as he took another sip. "Anyway, she taught me a thing or two about keeping a place clean, so I guess that counts for something."

The faint attempt at humor broke some of the tension, and Mikasa's lips quirked into a small smile despite herself. "Explains why you're such a neat freak."

Levi raised an eyebrow, his smirk growing slightly. "Careful, brat. You're not immune to cleaning duty."

"I think I've earned immunity," Mikasa said, her tone light but with a faint edge of playfulness. She leaned against the desk slightly, her gaze meeting his.

The warmth in his expression deepened, and for a moment, neither of them spoke. The silence between them wasn't empty—it was heavy with unspoken understanding, with the quiet weight of everything they'd shared and everything they hadn't said yet.

Levi shifted slightly, leaning forward again, his elbows resting on the desk as his gaze locked onto hers. "So, is this how it's going to be now?" he asked, his voice lower, quieter. "You bringing me tea and scolding me like I'm some unruly cadet?"

"Someone has to," Mikasa said, her tone matching his. "And you're not that unruly."

Levi's lips twitched into a faint scowl. "You're not as funny as you think you are."

"I wasn't trying to be funny."

The soft glow of the oil lamp cast flickering shadows across Levi's office. He sat behind his desk, leaning against the edge as Mikasa sat in the chair in front of him. The tension in the room wasn't the sharp kind that came with missions or scolding—this was something else entirely, a pull between them that neither could deny nor fully explain.

Mikasa's eyes flicked to him, lingering on his form. "How's your leg?" she asked, her voice soft.

Levi straightened and walked around the desk toward her, his movements still carrying a faint trace of his usual grace despite the lingering stiffness in his leg. He stopped just in front of her, leaning down slightly so their foreheads touched. His gray eyes bore into hers, his lips quirking into a faint smirk.

"As you can see, it's better," he said quietly, his breath warm against her skin.

Mikasa's heart skipped a beat, her cheeks flushing faintly. She didn't pull away. "I missed you today," she admitted softly.

Levi's eyes searched hers, his smirk fading into something softer, something raw. "I missed you too," he said, his voice rough around the edges as though the words cost him something to say—but he meant them.

He straightened, clearing his throat and taking a small step back as though to compose himself. His hand rubbed the back of his neck, a rare sign of hesitation. "This is... different," he muttered, his gaze dropping momentarily before meeting hers again. "This is the first time I've been in something like this. The first time I've been interested in anyone—wanting more than just—" He stopped, his lips pressing into a thin line as if the words were too difficult to continue.

Mikasa's chest ached at his vulnerability. She knew how hard it was for him to express his emotions, how foreign it must feel to him to bare even a fraction of his soul. She appreciated it more than she could say. "Me too," she said simply, her voice steady but warm, a small smile tugging at her lips.

Levi blinked, his expression softening further. He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could, Mikasa stood from the chair and leaned in, her hands finding their way to his shoulders. Her lips captured his in a deep, lingering kiss. For a moment, he was still, caught off guard, but then he responded with an intensity that made her knees weak.

As their kiss deepened, Levi's hands slid to her waist, pulling her closer as though he couldn't stand even an inch of distance between them. His lips left hers, trailing down her jawline and to her neck, pressing soft, teasing kisses that sent shivers down her spine. Mikasa's breath hitched as he continued his path, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin just beneath her ear.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" Mikasa muttered, her voice shaky but filled with a quiet challenge.

Levi pulled back slightly, his lips curling into a smirk. "Maybe," he said, his voice low and teasing. He pressed another kiss to her neck, lingering just long enough to make her heart race. "What are you going to do about it?"

Mikasa's cheeks flushed a deep red, her heart pounding at what she was about to do. Gathering her courage, she let one of her hands trail down from his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath her fingertips. Her hand moved lower, brushing against the waistband of his pants. Levi stiffened immediately, his hand shooting down to catch hers before she could go any further.

"I wouldn't do that again," he warned, his voice low and edged with something darker.

Mikasa raised an eyebrow, her lips curving into a faint smirk of her own. "Or what?"

The challenge in her voice snapped whatever restraint Levi had left. He kissed her again, this time with a ferocity that left her breathless. It wasn't just a kiss—it was consuming, a raw expression of everything he couldn't put into words. His hands cupped her face, holding her as though she might disappear if he let go.

When they finally broke apart, both of them breathing heavily, Mikasa looked up at him, her cheeks flushed but her eyes steady. "Levi," she said softly, her voice trembling slightly but filled with resolve. "I'm ready."

Levi froze, his gray eyes searching hers as though trying to gauge her sincerity. His jaw tightened, and he stepped back slightly, shaking his head. "It's too soon," he said, his voice stern but gentle.

"I want this, Levi," Mikasa said firmly, cutting him off. She stepped closer, her hands resting on his chest as she looked up at him. "I'm sure."

Levi's eyes softened, but there was a storm behind them, his inner turmoil clear as he searched her face for any sign of hesitation. "Are you absolutely sure?" he asked, his voice low, almost pleading. His hands rested lightly on her waist, his fingers trembling just slightly.

"I'm sure," she said again, her voice steady and unwavering.

Levi closed his eyes for a moment, as though grounding himself, before he let out a quiet exhale. Then, with a sudden burst of movement, he scooped her up into his arms, carrying her effortlessly toward the adjoining bedroom. Mikasa's breath caught in her throat as he set her down gently on the bed, his lips finding hers again in a kiss that was both tender and hungry.

He pulled back just enough to tug his shirt over his head, revealing the scars and lean muscle that spoke of years of battles and hardship. Mikasa's hands moved to her own shirt, but before she could finish, Levi caught the fabric and tore it open with a sharp motion. She gasped, her cheeks flushing a deep red as he smirked down at her.

"You can take my shirt later," he said, his voice low and teasing.

Mikasa's eyes roamed his bare skin, her breath catching at the sight. Levi, for his part, seemed equally captivated, his gaze lingering on her as though she were something precious, something he couldn't quite believe was real. He leaned down, pressing kisses to her collarbone and trailing them down to her stomach, his lips brushing against her skin with a reverence that made her heart ache.

His hands moved to the waistband of her pants, his eyes meeting hers once more. "Are you sure?" he asked again, his voice soft but filled with an unspoken plea.

"Yes," Mikasa whispered, her voice steady despite the wild pounding of her heart.

Levi nodded, his hands steady as he undid her pants, his movements slow and deliberate. He shed his own with equal care, and then, for a moment, he paused, his eyes searching hers once more.

When he finally joined her, the world seemed to fall away. Their breaths mingled, their movements slow and deliberate as they navigated this new, uncharted territory together. Levi was careful, his hands and lips moving with a tenderness that belied the strength in his body. Mikasa's fingers dug into his shoulders, her breaths punctuated by soft gasps as she adjusted to the unfamiliar sensations.

Levi's control frayed further with every passing moment, but he remained attuned to Mikasa, his movements deliberate and measured as he sought to ensure her comfort and pleasure. His hands explored her body with reverence, his touch warm and firm, igniting every nerve he passed over. She arched into him, her breaths shallow and quick, and the soft sounds she made only spurred him on.

When Mikasa bit down on his shoulder, a deep groan escaped him, his restraint slipping further. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, his breath hot against her skin as he pressed his lips to her collarbone, trailing kisses lower. The salty taste of her skin, the warmth of her body beneath his—it was overwhelming, and he was losing himself in her.

His lips claimed hers again in a kiss that was deeper, hungrier, as though he couldn't get enough. His hands slid down to grip her hips, holding her firmly as they moved together in a rhythm that was both instinctive and deliberate. Mikasa's fingers tangled in his hair, her nails lightly raking against his scalp, sending shivers down his spine.

"Levi," she murmured, her voice breathless but steady. The way she said his name—soft, almost reverent—nearly undid him. He lifted his head to look at her, his gray eyes locking onto hers, darkened with longing and emotion.

Mikasa whispered, her hands cupping his face. "I want this. I want you."

Levi closed his eyes for a moment, his forehead resting against hers as he let her words sink in. When he opened them again, there was no hesitation left. He kissed her deeply, pouring everything he felt into it—his desire, his affection, his unspoken fears—and she met him with equal intensity.

He shifted, pressing closer, and she felt the weight of him against her. Slowly, he entered her, his movements careful and measured, his gaze fixed on her face. Mikasa gasped softly, her fingers clutching at his shoulders as she adjusted to the sensation. Levi paused, his lips brushing against her temple as he whispered, "Are you alright?"

"Yes," she breathed, her voice shaky but certain. "Don't stop."

Her trust and vulnerability in that moment undid him completely. He began to move, slow and deliberate at first, his focus entirely on her. Mikasa's soft moans and the way her body responded to him were more than enough encouragement. Their movements soon found a steady rhythm, a dance that felt both natural and utterly consuming.

Levi's lips found hers again, then trailed down her jawline to her neck, leaving a path of heat in their wake. He murmured her name between kisses, his voice rough with emotion. Mikasa's hands explored his back, her touch growing bolder as she matched his movements, her own confidence building with every moment they shared.

When Mikasa bit down on his shoulder again, harder this time, Levi let out a guttural sound that was both a groan and a laugh. His hand slid to cup her face, tilting her head slightly so he could claim her lips in a kiss that was almost desperate. He poured himself into her, his control slipping further as he lost himself in the moment.

"Mikasa," he murmured against her lips, his voice raw with emotion and need.

Her only response was to pull him closer, her legs wrapping around his waist as she urged him deeper. Levi's movements became more urgent, his breaths ragged as he fought to maintain some semblance of control. The warmth of her body, the way she called his name—it was all too much, and yet he never wanted it to end.

As their movements reached a crescendo, Levi's head dipped to bury itself in the crook of her neck. His lips pressed to her skin as he murmured her name like a prayer, his body trembling with the intensity of the moment. Mikasa clung to him, her own breaths coming in short, uneven gasps as she surrendered to the sensations coursing through her.

When it was over, Levi collapsed against her, his weight a comforting presence as their breathing slowly evened out. He pressed a soft kiss to her forehead before rolling to the side, pulling her into his arms. Mikasa nestled against his chest, her head resting beneath his chin as she listened to the steady thrum of his heartbeat.

For a long moment, neither of them spoke, the silence between them filled with unspoken emotions. Levi's hand traced gentle patterns on her back, his touch soothing and grounding.

"Are you okay?" he asked softly, his voice a low rumble in the quiet room.

Mikasa nodded against his chest, her voice barely above a whisper. "More than okay."

Levi's lips curved into a faint smile, and he pressed another kiss to her forehead. "Good."

As sleep began to claim them, Mikasa felt the warmth of his arms around her, the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath her cheek. For the first time in a long while, she felt completely at peace. And as Levi drifted off, his hand still resting protectively on her back, she knew he felt the same.

****************************

I know you enjoyed this ;) I did too hehe

Chapter Text

The soft light of dawn filtered through the room, warming the air with a gentle glow. Mikasa stirred first, the quiet hum of the waking camp faintly audible in the distance. She blinked, her dark eyes adjusting to the light as the events of the night before came rushing back to her. A faint flush crept up her neck as she glanced at Levi.

He was still reclined in the bed, his bare chest partially covered by the blanket. His gray eyes, sharp even in the soft morning light, were already on her, an amused glint dancing in them.

"Morning," he said, his voice low and gravelly from sleep.

Mikasa's lips twitched into a small smile. "Morning."

She sat up slowly, the blanket slipping from her shoulders, revealing the faint marks of their passion. She reached for her pants, slipping them on as she tried to ignore the weight of Levi's gaze on her. The warmth of his stare made her pulse quicken, but she kept her movements deliberate, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing her flustered.

As she stood to search for her shirt, she froze, realization dawning. "You tore it," she muttered, shooting him a pointed look.

Levi smirked, leaning back against the headboard as though he had all the time in the world. "You brought that on yourself," he replied, his tone casual but laced with unmistakable teasing.

Mikasa huffed, crossing her arms as she leveled him with a glare. "And now I have to sneak back like this?"

He shrugged, the picture of nonchalance. "Not my problem." But the corner of his mouth twitched, betraying his amusement.

Mikasa rolled her eyes, her gaze darting around the room before landing on Levi's shirt hanging from a nearby chair. She arched an eyebrow at him, silently demanding an alternative. Levi followed her gaze, then sighed as if she were asking for a great favor.

"Fine," he muttered, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. He crossed the room and grabbed the shirt, tossing it to her. "This should do."

Mikasa caught it and slipped it over her head, the fabric soft and oversized, falling well past her hips. She adjusted the hem, glancing down at herself before looking back at him.

"It's huge," she deadpanned.

Levi leaned against the edge of the bed, his smirk widening. "Looks better on you anyway."

A faint blush crept up Mikasa's neck, but she ignored it, instead giving him a look that said she wasn't buying his charm. "Right. Thanks for the loan."

He watched her for a moment longer, his gray eyes softening slightly as she gathered herself to leave. "Careful on your way back," he said, his voice quieter now, carrying an undercurrent of warmth.

Mikasa nodded, pausing at the door to glance back at him. For a moment, their gazes locked, a silent exchange passing between them that needed no words. Then, with a faint smile, she slipped out into the hall, her bare feet quiet against the floorboards.

Levi stayed where he was, his smirk fading into something softer as he stared at the closed door. She really did bring this on herself.

****************************

The sidelines of the training field were alive with murmured bets and low chuckles as Levi's special squad gathered to observe the competition. The senior members leaned casually against the fence, arms crossed or hands resting on their gear, their expressions ranging from skeptical to outright amused.

"Should we place bets?" Farlan suggested, his tone light but mischievous. He leaned slightly toward Petra, his grin widening. "I'm serious—let's make this interesting."

"Against the recruits?" Oluo snorted, a sharp laugh escaping him. "Easy money. I'll take that bet any day."

"Bold of you to assume you'd win anything," Petra retorted, giving Oluo a pointed look. "You remember the last time you underestimated a recruit? Because I do."

Oluo rolled his eyes, waving a dismissive hand. "That was a fluke. I wasn't even trying."

"Oh, is that what we're calling it?" Petra teased, her smirk growing. "Because from where I was standing, you looked like you were trying pretty hard when that cadet knocked you flat on your back."

"That cadet had abnormally long legs!" Oluo protested, his face turning a faint shade of red. "It was a physics thing."

Gunther chuckled, shaking his head. "Physics or not, I'm still taking bets against you if we're factoring in agility."

"Ha, very funny," Oluo grumbled. "Let's see you outmaneuver Mikasa Ackerman."

"Oh, I wasn't betting against her," Farlan chimed in smoothly, his arms crossing as he nodded toward the field. "I'm betting on Mikasa and Armin."

"Now that's bold," Petra said, her eyebrows raising in mild surprise. "Not a bad choice, though."

"Betting on the recruits?" Oluo scoffed, though his expression faltered slightly as his gaze shifted to Mikasa and Armin. The pair stood apart from the others, quietly conferring with calm precision. "Okay, maybe they've got a chance. But still—against us?"

Gunther tilted his head thoughtfully. "It's not a bad bet. Mikasa's got raw skill, and Armin's strategy is hard to beat."

"And don't forget the Underground survival instincts," Farlan added. "They've got brains, brawn, and teamwork. If anyone can pull this off, it's them."

"They've definitely got a shot," Petra agreed, though her tone carried a hint of friendly skepticism. "But we'll see."

"Big bro agrees," Isabel chimed in suddenly, her wide grin practically splitting her face. She nudged Levi, who had remained silent through the banter, his sharp gaze fixed on the recruits. "Right, bro?"

Levi didn't respond immediately, his arms crossed and his stance relaxed but focused. His eyes lingered on Mikasa as she adjusted her scarf with a practiced ease, her movements efficient and deliberate.

"I don't bet," Levi said finally, his tone clipped but calm.

"But if you did," Hange teased, sidling up to him with a sly grin, "who'd you pick? Come on, Captain, indulge us. You've got to have a favorite."

Levi's expression didn't change, but there was a slight twitch at the corner of his mouth—too faint for most to notice, though Hange caught it immediately.

"Doesn't matter," Levi said, his voice dry and nonchalant. He shifted slightly, his gaze flicking back to Mikasa and Armin as they prepared their gear.

Hange squinted at him, her grin growing wider. "Oh, you're totally rooting for them."

"I'm not rooting for anyone," Levi replied evenly, though the faintest trace of a smirk betrayed him. He didn't bother looking at Hange as he spoke, his focus still on the recruits.

"Uh-huh," Hange drawled, leaning closer with a playful glint in her eyes. "Sure you're not. You're just standing here with your 'I'm-proud-but-won't-admit-it' face because you're completely impartial."

"I don't have a proud face," Levi deadpanned, his voice carrying a slight edge of exasperation.

"Oh, you do," Farlan chimed in, his grin matching Hange's. "You've got it right now, actually."

"Shut up," Levi muttered, though the faint smirk returned, barely visible.

"See?!" Isabel crowed, pointing an accusatory finger at him. "You are rooting for them! Just admit it, big bro. Mikasa and Armin are gonna crush it."

"They'll do fine," Levi said simply, his tone calm but firm enough to shut down further teasing—at least momentarily.

"'Fine,' he says," Hange quipped, throwing her hands up dramatically. "Translation: 'They're going to dominate, and I'm internally cheering, but I'll never let anyone know.'"

Petra laughed softly, shaking her head. "You two really don't give him a break, do you?"

"Why would we?" Hange replied with a grin. "He makes it too easy."

"Focus on the recruits," Levi said, his voice cutting through the banter as his eyes returned to the field. The competition was about to begin, and he didn't want to miss a moment.

"Fine, fine," Hange said, backing off with a mock bow. "But we all know where your loyalty lies, Captain."

Levi didn't respond, his attention already locked on Mikasa and Armin as they took their positions. Despite the teasing, there was an unmistakable glint of pride in his eyes.

****************************

"Why do I have to be paired with him?" Jean hissed, his voice cutting through the murmurs of the recruits as he jabbed a finger toward Eren.

"Because no one else wants to deal with you," Eren retorted, his arms crossing tightly over his chest. His sharp green eyes flashed with irritation. "And I can do this without you, anyway."

"Oh, is that so?" Jean snapped, taking a threatening step closer. "Let's see you try, Jaeger. Go ahead, get yourself caught in the first trap and see how far that attitude takes you."

Eren stepped forward as well, their foreheads almost touching. "At least I'll get farther than you, horse-face."

"Excuse me?!" Jean's voice cracked, his face turning an alarming shade of red. "Say that again, you little—"

"Boys, boys," Ymir interrupted, her lazy drawl dripping with mock amusement. She leaned casually against Krista, her arms crossed as she watched the escalating tension with a wide smirk. "Save the lover's quarrel for after the competition. Some of us are trying to focus."

Krista giggled softly, her cheeks pink as she tugged on Ymir's sleeve. "Ymir, don't tease them. They're just... passionate."

"Passionate?!" Ymir snorted, throwing her head back with a laugh. "More like ridiculous. Come on, Krista, even you have to admit this is pure comedy gold. They're going to kill each other before the enemy scouts even get a chance."

Krista bit her lip, clearly torn between being the voice of reason and giving in to her own amusement. "Well... maybe a little," she admitted, hiding her smile behind her hand.

Eren and Jean turned their glares on Ymir, momentarily united in indignation. "Stay out of this!" they shouted in unison.

"Aw, look at that. You're already bonding," Ymir said, clapping her hands together with exaggerated enthusiasm. "Makes me proud."

Jean rolled his eyes so hard it looked painful, while Eren muttered something unintelligible under his breath, his fists clenching.

"Speak for yourself," Sasha interjected, popping up beside Ymir and Krista with her trademark grin. She adjusted her gear straps, her movements quick and precise. "I'm here to win. Right, Connie?"

Connie, who had been crouched nearby trying to fix a strap on his boot, glanced up at Sasha with a confused expression. "Wait, we're supposed to win? I thought the goal was just to survive and not get humiliated."

"That's why I'm the brains of this operation," Sasha declared proudly, clapping him on the back hard enough to make him wobble. "You just follow my lead and leave the strategy to me."

"God help me," Connie muttered under his breath, rubbing the back of his neck. "I'm doomed."

Krista giggled again, her eyes crinkling at the corners as she looked between Sasha and Connie. "You two always make such a good team."

"Good team?" Ymir cut in, raising an eyebrow. "More like chaotic energy and sheer dumb luck. I'm surprised they haven't set themselves on fire yet."

"Hey!" Sasha pouted, crossing her arms. "We're way more capable than you give us credit for."

"Sure you are," Ymir replied with a smirk. "But if you're relying on Connie here for backup, you might want to rethink that strategy."

"Hey, I'll have you know I'm very reliable," Connie shot back, puffing out his chest in mock indignation. "I've got fast reflexes, sharp instincts, and—"

"—the attention span of a squirrel," Sasha interrupted, grinning at him. "But don't worry. That's why I'm in charge."

Connie groaned, throwing his hands up. "You see what I deal with? This is my life."

Jean, still fuming, glared at them. "Can you all focus? Some of us are trying to strategize here."

"Yeah, and some of us are just naturally better at this," Eren added smugly, shooting Jean a pointed look. "No strategy required."

Jean's jaw dropped. "You're unbelievable."

"Thanks," Eren replied with a smirk, turning on his heel and walking away. "See you at the finish line, horse-face."

Ymir burst out laughing, clutching her stomach as Jean looked like he might explode. "Oh, this is gonna be good," she wheezed. "I give them ten minutes before they implode."

Krista, ever the optimist, gave Jean a reassuring smile. "Don't worry, Jean. I'm sure you and Eren will figure out how to work together."

Jean sighed, dragging a hand down his face. "Not likely."

Amid the chaotic buzz of recruits preparing for the competition, Mikasa and Armin stood slightly apart, their movements calm and deliberate. Mikasa adjusted her scarf as Armin scanned the training field, his sharp eyes cataloging every detail of the setup.

"This feels familiar," Armin said quietly, his voice thoughtful as he glanced toward Mikasa. "Like those moments right before we'd make a move in the Underground. Everyone tense, trying to act like they have it together."

Mikasa's fingers paused on her scarf. "Except now, no one's desperate. There's no smell of damp stone or fear hanging in the air." She looked toward the horizon, her gaze softening. "It's... different."

"Different, but not entirely," Armin replied, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "Back then, we had to plan everything down to the last detail. One mistake, and—"

"—we wouldn't make it back," Mikasa finished, her tone steady but heavy with the weight of memory. "It feels distant now, like it happened to someone else."

Armin tilted his head, his expression thoughtful. "But it still shapes us, doesn't it? Every plan I make, every decision... I can still hear those voices in my head, warning me of what could go wrong."

Mikasa turned to him, her expression softening for a moment. "It's not a bad thing. Back then, your plans were the only reason we got through half of what we did."

"And you were the one who made sure those plans actually worked," Armin said with a small laugh. "I didn't exactly have the skills to back them up on my own."

Mikasa's lips curved into the faintest hint of a smile. "You had other skills. The ones that mattered. And you still do."

Armin glanced at her, a flicker of gratitude in his eyes before he shifted back to scanning the field. "I think this might be the first time we've done something like this without worrying if it'll get us killed."

Mikasa nodded, her voice quiet. "It's strange, isn't it? Doing it because we want to, not because we have to."

For a moment, the two stood in silence, the noise of the other recruits fading into the background as they shared the unspoken bond of their past. The Underground had taught them survival, but now they were here—above ground, training for something bigger than themselves.

"You ready for this?" Mikasa asked finally, her voice steady as she adjusted her gear.

Armin smiled faintly, his usual quiet confidence shining through. "Always. What about you?"

She smirked, a rare flicker of amusement crossing her face. "Always."

And with that, the two moved to join the others, their quiet understanding a testament to the years they had spent navigating challenges together.

****************************

As the recruits finished their preparations and assembled near the central clearing, the chatter gradually died down. The instructor, a stern-faced man with a voice that carried like a trumpet blast, stepped forward onto a small raised platform. Beside him stood Hange, brimming with barely contained excitement, and a handful of senior members—including Levi's special squad—who would play key roles in the competition.

"All right, listen up!" the instructor barked, silencing the remaining murmurs. "Today's exercise isn't just about strength or speed—it's about strategy, teamwork, and adaptability. If you think you can muscle your way through this, you're in for a rude awakening."

Hange clapped her hands enthusiastically. "This is going to be so much fun! I've set up some very special surprises for you all!"

The recruits exchanged uneasy glances, and a few muttered complaints could be heard from the back of the group. Oluo snorted from his spot near the seniors, whispering loudly, "Watch them flail when they hit the first trap."

Petra elbowed him sharply, though her amused smirk suggested she wasn't entirely unsympathetic to the sentiment.

The instructor cleared his throat, cutting through the murmurs again. "Here's how it's going to work: The competition is a team-based flag retrieval mission. Each pair will be assigned a starting point equidistant from the central tower, where the flag is located. Your goal is simple—retrieve the flag and bring it back to this spot."

"Simple?" Jean muttered under his breath, eyeing the seniors with suspicion. "Yeah, right."

"Along the way," the instructor continued, ignoring the side comments, "you'll face three major challenges. First, the field is littered with traps designed to slow you down or separate you from your partner. Second, enemy scouts—played by our senior members—will be patrolling the area. If you're caught, you'll lose your chance at the flag."

"Caught?" Connie whispered to Sasha, his face paling slightly. "What happens if we're caught?"

"They probably just tell us to sit out," Sasha said optimistically. "Or maybe they'll make us run laps."

"Wrong!" Hange interjected gleefully, her voice carrying over the group. "If you're caught by a scout, you'll be detained—meaning they'll tie you up and leave you there. Your partner will have to decide whether to save you or keep going."

The recruits erupted into uneasy murmurs, the stakes suddenly feeling much higher.

The instructor raised a hand for silence, his expression unyielding. "And the third challenge? The flag itself is heavily guarded by a team of senior members. You'll have to outwit or outmaneuver them to retrieve it. Once you have the flag, it's a straight shot back here. First team to return wins."

"Now for the rules," Hange added, holding up a clipboard. "1. You and your partner must stick together unless one of you gets detained. 2. You can't sabotage other cadet teams. The senior members are your only enemy. And 3. No permanent injuries, please! We don't want Levi glaring at us for the next week."

"Too late," Eld muttered under his breath, earning a snicker from Isabel.

The instructor ignored Hange's enthusiasm and finished with a stern look at the group. "This competition is designed to test your teamwork and adaptability under pressure. If you think you're tough enough to handle it, prove it. Gear up and move to your assigned starting points."

The recruits split into pairs, each team heading to their designated spots. Mikasa and Armin exchanged a brief, determined look as they adjusted their gear. Across the clearing, Eren and Jean were already bickering about strategy, while Connie and Sasha seemed more concerned with sneaking extra food into their pouches.

From his position near the edge of the field, Levi arrived just in time to see the teams scatter. He crossed his arms, his sharp gaze lingering on Mikasa and Armin for a moment before shifting to Hange.

"You couldn't resist adding 'detainment,' could you?" he said dryly.

Hange grinned, completely unapologetic. "What's the point of a competition if there aren't a few surprises? Besides, they're going to need these skills out there one day. Better to teach them now than later."

The signal to begin wasn't subtle—a flare shot into the sky with a resonant boom, its red smoke spiraling high against the morning light. For a split second, silence fell, tension coiling like a spring across the training field. Then, chaos erupted.

The recruits burst into motion, pairs darting from their starting points with the sharp hiss of ODM gear filling the air. Grappling hooks zipped through the trees, hissing as they embedded into branches and trunks. Shouts of encouragement and the occasional frustrated curses punctuated the din. The atmosphere was electric.

Mikasa and Armin moved like they'd been rehearsing for years—because, in a way, they had. Their silent communication, perfected in the Underground, was seamless. Armin's sharp mind plotted the quickest route to the flag, while Mikasa's instincts ensured they avoided traps and ambushes.

"Right," Armin murmured, studying his map. He pointed to a narrow passage between two boulders. "It's tight, but it'll lead us to the ridge. Less likely to be trapped."

Mikasa nodded without hesitation, pivoting to follow his lead. Their ODM gear launched them upward, propelling them toward the ridge. Below them, faint shouts echoed through the forest.

SNAP. A loud twang was followed by a frustrated yell.

"That sounded like Jean," Mikasa said, her lips twitching into a faint smile.

Armin chuckled softly. "I'll bet you anything Eren and Jean were arguing about which path to take and missed the tripwire."

"Typical," she replied, her sharp eyes scanning the horizon. "Focus. We're approaching the first checkpoint."

Ahead, the forest opened into a wide clearing bathed in sunlight. Mikasa and Armin slowed, their movements deliberate as they perched in the trees. Mikasa's sharp gaze caught a flicker of movement below.

"It's Petra," she whispered, nodding toward the figure crouched near the clearing's edge. The senior member moved like a predator, scanning the area with calm precision.

"She's guarding the clearing," Armin noted, his voice low. His eyes darted back to the map. "No alternate route."

"Then we go through her," Mikasa said, her tone steady and unwavering.

Armin hesitated, his brows furrowing. "If we're caught—"

"We won't," she interrupted, her confidence absolute. She glanced at him, her dark eyes calm but intent. "Trust me."

Armin nodded. He didn't need convincing—he'd trusted Mikasa with his life before, and this was no different. "What's the plan?"

"You distract her," Mikasa said, the barest hint of a smirk tugging at her lips. "I'll take her out."

Armin raised an eyebrow but didn't argue. "Try not to be too rough."

Armin descended into the clearing with deliberate noise, his grappling hooks retracting with an audible clink. Petra's head snapped up, her sharp eyes zeroing in on him.

"Well, well," Petra called, rising fluidly to her feet. Her smirk was playful but tinged with the authority of a seasoned soldier. "Coming down alone, Arlert? Bold move."

Armin raised his hands, feigning nervousness. "I figured I'd take my chances."

Petra took a cautious step forward, her sharp eyes scanning for signs of his partner. "And where's your executioner? Don't tell me Ackerman left you to fend for yourself."

"She's around," Armin replied vaguely, stepping backward just enough to draw Petra's attention fully toward him.

From above, Mikasa descended like a shadow, silent and swift. Her grappling hook shot out, anchoring behind Petra's harness. With a precise tug, she threw Petra off balance.

Petra stumbled forward, her eyes wide. "What the—"

Mikasa stepped into view, calm and unruffled. "Sorry, Petra"

Petra recovered quickly, shaking her head as her lips curved into a begrudging smile. "Not bad, Mikasa"

"You're a good teacher," Mikasa replied with the faintest nod before turning to Armin. "Let's go."

As they sprinted past, Petra cupped her hands around her mouth. "Don't get cocky! Gunther's up ahead, and he's not as nice as me!"

****************************

Somewhere near the western edge of the field, Eren and Jean were embroiled in their third argument since the flare had signaled the start of the competition. Their shouts echoed through the forest, scaring off birds and undoubtedly alerting every senior member within a mile radius.

"Would you just listen for once?" Jean snapped, his voice reaching an impressive octave of frustration. His face was streaked with dirt, his uniform covered in leaves and stray twigs. He jabbed an accusatory finger at Eren, who was brushing off his pants after climbing out of a pitfall. "We could've avoided that if you hadn't been so focused on rushing ahead!"

"Me?" Eren's voice rose in indignation, his hands balling into fists. "You're the one who said we should take the left path! I told you it was trapped!"

Jean gestured wildly toward the pit they'd just crawled out of, his expression a mix of disbelief and fury. "If you knew it was trapped, why didn't you stop me, genius?"

"Because you never listen!" Eren growled, stepping closer, their faces now mere inches apart.

"Oh, that's rich, coming from the guy who thinks charging headfirst into everything is a valid strategy!" Jean shot back. "You're a walking disaster!"

"At least I don't stand around whining all the time!" Eren retorted, his eyes blazing with defiance.

Their heated exchange was abruptly interrupted by the unmistakable sound of grappling hooks zipping through the trees above. Both boys froze mid-shout, their heads snapping upward just in time to see Ymir and Krista swinging gracefully past them.

Ymir's smirk was practically predatory as she leaned slightly out of her swing. "Keep yelling, boys," she drawled, her voice laced with amusement. "It makes you easy to track."

Trailing just behind her, Krista giggled softly, her voice carrying a note of apology as she waved to them. "Good luck!" she called, her tone genuinely kind despite the jab.

Eren and Jean stood frozen, watching as the pair disappeared effortlessly into the treetops. For a moment, the only sound was the faint rustle of leaves in their wake.

"They didn't even stop to fight," Jean muttered, his tone tinged with disbelief.

"Probably because they're smart," Eren snapped, turning on his heel and stomping off in the direction of the central tower. "Come on. Let's get moving."

Jean stayed rooted in place for a moment longer, his face a perfect picture of exasperation. "Yeah, follow you again," he grumbled under his breath as he started after Eren. "That's worked so well so far."

Their bickering hadn't gone unnoticed. From a perch high in the trees, Eld leaned against a sturdy branch, arms crossed as he watched the commotion below. He glanced sideways at Petra, who was crouched nearby, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

"They're going to give themselves away before anyone even gets the chance to catch them," Eld remarked, his tone dry.

Petra chuckled softly, shaking her head. "Think we should intervene?"

Eld tilted his head thoughtfully. "Nah. Let's see how far they get before they fall into another trap."

As if on cue, Eren and Jean's argument crescendoed again, their voices loud enough to scare a flock of birds from the canopy above. Petra winced at the noise, though her smile didn't fade.

"At least they're consistent," she said.

"Consistently terrible," Eld added, earning a laugh from Petra.

A few minutes later, Eren and Jean's streak of bad luck continued. As they trudged through the forest, Eren's eyes narrowed, scanning the ground for any signs of danger. Jean trailed behind him, muttering complaints under his breath.

"Stop whining and stay alert," Eren snapped, shooting a glare over his shoulder.

"Oh, so now you're the cautious one?" Jean retorted, his arms gesturing dramatically. "That's rich—"

His words were cut off as Eren stopped abruptly, causing Jean to bump into him.

"What now?" Jean demanded, throwing his hands up.

Eren pointed ahead to a suspiciously clear patch of ground. "That's a trigger. Step on it, and—"

Before he could finish, Jean, in his haste to roll his eyes, stepped directly onto the pressure plate. A split second later, a massive log swung down from the trees, narrowly missing Eren but catching Jean squarely in the chest.

The force sent Jean flying backward into a bush, a string of creative curses spilling from his mouth as he struggled to disentangle himself from the foliage.

"See?" Eren said, gesturing to the now-swaying log. "This is what I mean! You don't think before you act!"

Jean emerged from the bush, his hair sticking out in every direction and his uniform now caked with dirt and leaves. "You could've warned me faster!"

"I was literally warning you as it happened!" Eren yelled, throwing his hands up.

"Oh, sure, blame me for your bad timing!" Jean snapped, shoving past him.

Eren growled in frustration but followed. "You know what? When we get to the flag, just stay out of my way."

"Gladly!" Jean shot back.

High above in the trees, Isabel leaned precariously from her perch, watching the scene unfold with barely concealed glee. Farlan, perched beside her, shook his head, though his lips twitched in amusement.

"They're a disaster," Isabel whispered loudly, as if afraid the pair below might hear her.

Farlan chuckled, his tone measured. "They've got spirit, at least."

"Spirit doesn't win competitions," Isabel said with a grin. "But it does make for great entertainment."

She nudged Farlan, nearly losing her balance in the process. "Think they'll make it to the flag?"

Farlan raised an eyebrow. "If they don't take each other out first? Maybe."

Isabel cackled at that, her laughter echoing faintly through the forest. "I kinda hope they don't—this is way too much fun to watch."

****************************

Near the starting point, Connie and Sasha had spectacularly failed to outmaneuver Eld within the first ten minutes of the competition. It wasn't even an impressive failure—they hadn't set off a trap or encountered a particularly tricky obstacle. They'd simply walked right into Eld, whose calm, unhurried demeanor made the whole thing feel embarrassingly easy.

Now, the two recruits were tied securely to a tree, their ODM gear confiscated and leaning against Eld's shoulder as he stood a few feet away, arms crossed. His relaxed posture suggested he wasn't even remotely worried about them escaping.

"I can't believe this," Connie grumbled, twisting his wrists against the ropes. "We didn't even get close. How does anyone win these things?"

"Practice," Eld replied, his tone dry but faintly amused. "And maybe not arguing so loudly about who gets the last piece of bread during a stealth mission."

Sasha, however, looked completely unbothered by their predicament. If anything, she appeared almost too comfortable, her head tilted to the side as if she were sunbathing. Her stomach growled audibly, betraying her real concerns.

"So, Eld," Sasha began, her voice casual and friendly, "how long until this is over and we can grab breakfast? I'm starving."

Eld arched an eyebrow, his lips twitching as if fighting back a smile. "You'll be here until someone from your team comes to rescue you. Assuming they decide you're worth the trouble."

"Rescue?" Sasha repeated, her eyes lighting up with sudden optimism. "That means food's not out of the question!"

Connie groaned, letting his head thump back against the tree. "How are you even thinking about food right now? We're literally tied to a tree in the middle of a competition."

Sasha's expression turned contemplative, as if she hadn't even considered her predicament in a serious light until now. "Thinking about food helps me strategize," she said, as though it were the most logical thing in the world. "Maybe I'll bribe the next scout with a snack."

Eld snorted softly, shaking his head. "Good luck with that. I confiscated your stash."

Sasha's eyes widened in genuine horror. "You what?"

Connie turned to her, incredulous. "Wait, you were carrying snacks? On a competition mission?"

"Emergency rations!" Sasha protested, twisting her torso as if she could somehow escape through sheer indignation. "What if we got lost or stuck or—or tied to a tree? This is exactly what snacks are for!"

Eld's calm chuckle interrupted her tirade. "You'd have been caught either way. You were practically yelling about your snack stash before you even saw me."

Sasha pouted, her expression somewhere between betrayed and defeated. "It was tactical yelling."

"It was you being a loudmouth," Connie said, shaking his head. "And now we're stuck here. Thanks, Sasha."

Sasha narrowed her eyes at him. "Oh, so you're blaming me now? Who was the one who tripped over a branch and face-planted right in front of Eld?"

"I wouldn't have tripped if you weren't distracting me with your snack inventory!" Connie shot back.

Eld cleared his throat, cutting through their bickering. "You two are a real piece of work," he said, his tone laced with amusement. "I'm starting to think you should stay here for the whole competition."

Sasha turned her wide, pleading eyes on him, her voice dripping with faux sweetness. "Eld, come on. We're harmless. Can't you let us go? I'll share my next snack with you!"

Eld laughed outright at that. "Tempting, but no. You're staying put."

Sasha groaned dramatically, leaning back against the tree as though it were the most exhausting thing she'd ever experienced. Connie gave up on wriggling against the ropes, slumping beside her with a resigned sigh.

"You know," Connie said after a long pause, "this isn't so bad. At least we're out of the running, so no more traps."

Sasha brightened, nodding enthusiastically. "Exactly! And when someone rescues us, we'll be rested and ready to eat. Win-win."

Eld shook his head, smirking as he leaned against a nearby tree to keep watch. "You two are hopeless."

"Hopelessly brilliant," Sasha corrected, her grin returning. "Just wait—when this is over, we'll have the last laugh."

"I doubt it," Eld said with a chuckle, but there was no malice in his tone. "But I'll give you points for optimism."

As Sasha and Connie resumed their lighthearted banter, the sounds of the competition—shouts, grappling hooks, and the occasional triggered trap—faded into the background. For all their blunders, the duo seemed perfectly content to wait out the chaos, bickering and laughing as though being tied to a tree was just another part of their routine.

****************************

Near the quieter edges of the field, Bertolt and Reiner moved at a measured pace. Their cautious approach kept them free from traps, but it also made them an easy target for the senior members who lay in wait. Bertolt's eyes darted nervously at every rustling branch, while Reiner kept scanning the path ahead with an air of growing impatience.

"Reiner, maybe we should—" Bertolt began, but Reiner silenced him with a curt wave.

"Keep moving," Reiner said. "The more we hesitate, the closer they get."

Unfortunately, Reiner's instincts were correct. From above, two senior members—Mike and Keiji—had locked onto them. With a quick exchange of silent gestures, they descended like hawks.

Bertolt froze as Mike landed just behind him, his imposing figure casting a long shadow. "Boo," Mike said with a smirk, and Bertolt let out a startled yelp.

Reiner reacted quickly, firing his grappling hook toward Keiji, who had landed ahead of them. "Go!" Reiner barked at Bertolt, shoving him forward.

Bertolt scrambled, his long legs carrying him farther down the trail, but Mike easily intercepted him. "Not so fast," Mike said, grabbing the back of Bertolt's gear and hoisting him up as if he weighed nothing.

"Gotcha," Keiji said smugly as he blocked Reiner's escape path.

"Not yet!" Reiner growled, charging forward with surprising force. Keiji barely dodged as Reiner tackled Mike, momentarily freeing Bertolt.

"Move, Bert!" Reiner roared, holding his ground as the senior members regrouped.

From a nearby ridge, Ymir and Krista paused to watch the commotion. "Should we help?" Krista asked, her brow furrowed with concern.

"Nah," Ymir said, smirking. "This is way more entertaining."

Meanwhile, Bertolt managed to slip into the trees, leaving Reiner to fend for himself.

"That one's loyal," Keiji noted, dusting himself off. "But he's a little slow."

Mike grinned. "Think they'll make it far?"

Keiji shrugged. "Not with this pace, but they've got guts."

Reiner, though detained, shot them a smirk. "You'd better hope Bert makes it to that flag. He's got a habit of surprising people."

As the commotion died down, other recruits—like Mina and Thomas—darted past, trying to make up ground. From the treetops, Nifa and Dieter exchanged signals before pursuing them, the seniors spreading out across the field to keep up the pressure.

Even as Bertolt caught his breath in a safe clearing, he couldn't shake the lingering grin on Reiner's face.

****************************

Ymir and Krista moved through the trees with a practiced grace, Ymir's sharp smirk in stark contrast to Krista's focused expression. Their approach was different from the chaos unfolding elsewhere—they weren't charging forward blindly or overthinking every step. Instead, they were working their way up with the subtlety of thieves planning a heist.

As they neared the next checkpoint, Ymir came to a halt, her gaze sharpening as she spotted Gunther pacing the perimeter. The tall, composed senior member held a marker—a crucial checkpoint pass—casually in his hand, clearly confident in his ability to protect it.

Krista crouched beside Ymir, clutching a branch for support. "We'll never get past him," she whispered, her voice tinged with worry. "He's too good."

"Sweetheart," Ymir replied with a low chuckle, leaning closer. "You underestimate my brilliance. Watch and learn."

Before Krista could stop her, Ymir stepped boldly out of the shadows, waving her arms as if greeting an old friend. "Gunther! Hey! Over here!" she called in a sing-song voice, her grin wide and disarming.

Gunther turned sharply, his brows knitting together as he spotted her. "What the—?"

"Don't act like you're not happy to see me!" Ymir exclaimed, walking casually into the open. "I mean, sure, you're probably going to catch me or whatever, but it's worth it to say hi to such a distinguished scout."

Gunther's frown deepened, though the faintest flicker of confusion crossed his face. "What are you up to, Ymir?"

"Oh, nothing!" she said innocently, leaning casually against a tree. "Just making your day more exciting. Bet it gets boring standing out here all alone."

While Ymir kept Gunther distracted with her theatrics, Krista silently darted around the perimeter, using the cover of trees and low-hanging branches to get closer. Her petite frame made it easy to stay out of sight, though her heart pounded in her chest with every step.

Back in the clearing, Ymir was ramping up the theatrics. "You know, it's kind of unfair, don't you think? Big, strong soldier like you against little ol' me?" She batted her eyelashes exaggeratedly, and Gunther's expression shifted from suspicion to mild exasperation.

"Are you seriously trying to flirt your way out of this?" he asked, though the corners of his mouth twitched.

"Is it working?" Ymir shot back, flashing him a wink.

"Not even close," Gunther replied, crossing his arms.

Krista seized the opportunity. Swinging silently down from a low branch, she snatched the marker right out of Gunther's hand with precision and speed. The senior member's eyes widened as he spun around, realizing too late that he'd been duped.

"Got it!" Krista called out, her voice a mix of triumph and panic as she dashed back toward Ymir.

Gunther groaned audibly, his exasperation evident. "Really?" he muttered, already breaking into a jog after them. "You two think you're getting away with that?"

"Think?" Ymir called over her shoulder as she and Krista sprinted toward the next tree line. "No, we know."

Gunther picked up speed, his long strides closing the gap between them. Krista's face was flushed as she glanced nervously over her shoulder, but Ymir was positively glowing with delight.

"You could slow down, Gunther," Ymir taunted, her voice loud enough to carry. "Wouldn't want to pull something!"

"Ymir!" Krista hissed, trying not to laugh despite herself. "Stop provoking him!"

But Ymir was unstoppable. "Come on, Krista, live a little! How often do you get to outrun a legend?"

Gunther's lips pressed into a thin line as he pushed forward, his patience clearly wearing thin. Ymir and Krista reached the cover of the trees just in time, their laughter echoing as they disappeared into the foliage.

From his perch farther ahead, Eld, who had been watching the entire exchange with mild amusement, called out to Gunther as he jogged past. "You let them trick you?"

"They pulled a classic distraction move," Gunther muttered, shaking his head. "It won't happen again."

Eld smirked. "Sure it won't. But I've got to admit, it's nice to see the recruits getting creative for once."

"Creative?" Gunther echoed, still jogging after the duo. "That's one way to put it."

Meanwhile, Ymir and Krista swung higher into the trees, Ymir's grin wide enough to rival the crescent moon.

"You're insane," Krista said breathlessly, clutching the marker tightly.

"And you love me for it," Ymir replied smugly, her tone as light as the wind rushing past them.

Krista shook her head, but her smile gave her away. "We're going to have to be faster at the next checkpoint. He won't fall for that twice."

"Oh, don't worry," Ymir said, her eyes glinting mischievously. "I've got plenty more tricks up my sleeve."

Gunther's distant voice echoed behind them. "You can run, but you can't hide, Ymir!"

"Wanna bet?" Ymir called back, cackling as she and Krista disappeared further into the trees.

****************************

The sound of running water grew louder as Eren and Jean approached a narrow, rope-laden bridge spanning a shallow ravine. Their pace slowed, but their argument only escalated.

"Would you stop dragging your feet?" Eren hissed, his glare sharp enough to cut stone. "You're slowing us down!"

"I'm not dragging my feet, you idiot," Jean shot back, his voice rising. "I'm being cautious."

"Cautious?" Eren repeated, his tone dripping with mockery. "You've already fallen into two traps!"

"You fell into the same traps!" Jean roared, throwing his hands into the air. "And let's not forget whose brilliant idea it was to swing into a tree earlier."

"It was tactical!" Eren argued, his cheeks flushing red. "How was I supposed to know it was covered in netting?"

"Because that's the whole point of the exercise!" Jean countered, jabbing a finger toward the bridge. "Maybe if you'd stop rushing ahead like some Titan-chomping lunatic, we wouldn't—"

A loud cough interrupted them. Both turned sharply to see a senior member leaning casually against one of the bridge's posts. His arms were crossed, and a wry grin played on his lips.

It was Niles, one of the quieter senior members known for his dry humor and eagle-eyed attention to detail. He raised an eyebrow as he gestured toward the bridge with a lazy wave.

"Finished arguing, or do you want to give the rest of us more entertainment?" he asked, his voice carrying an unmistakable undertone of amusement.

Eren bristled immediately. "We're not here to entertain anyone! Move out of the way—we're crossing."

Niles chuckled, shaking his head. "Sure, kid. If you can make it across without falling first."

Jean smirked at Eren, leaning in just enough to whisper, "See? Even he thinks you're reckless."

"Oh, like you're the shining example of competence!" Eren growled, stepping onto the first plank of the bridge.

Niles didn't budge. He just watched, his expression calm, but his eyes were sharp, tracking their every movement like a hawk.

The bridge creaked ominously under Eren's weight as he moved forward. Jean hesitated for a moment before reluctantly following.

"Don't look down," Jean muttered, gripping the ropes on either side.

"I wasn't going to until you said that!" Eren snapped, throwing a glare over his shoulder.

"Both of you, focus," Niles called out, leaning nonchalantly against the post. "Or don't. Honestly, this is more entertaining than I expected."

The comment made Eren's blood boil. Determined to prove him wrong, he moved faster, ignoring the swaying ropes and the slippery planks beneath his boots. Jean followed reluctantly, muttering curses under his breath.

Just as they reached the halfway point, Eren noticed a glint of wire stretched across the path. His eyes widened. "Wait—"

Too late.

Both boys tripped simultaneously, the tensioned wire sending them sprawling forward. Their grappling hooks, already loosened for quick access, snagged onto the ropes, yanking them into an awkward tumble that ended with a loud splash as they both landed in the shallow river below.

The icy water sent a shock through Eren's system as he sputtered to the surface. "Damn it, Jean! This is your fault!"

"My fault?" Jean spat, standing knee-deep in the water, his hair plastered to his forehead. "You're the one who rushed ahead like an idiot!"

"Maybe if you'd stop arguing for five seconds, we wouldn't be down here!" Eren shouted, slamming his fist into the water for emphasis.

Above them, Niles peered down from the edge of the bridge, his expression the picture of nonchalant amusement. "Impressive teamwork," he called dryly. "Truly inspiring."

"You could've warned us!" Jean shouted up at him, gesturing wildly.

"Warned you?" Niles repeated, raising an eyebrow. "I figured you'd at least notice a wire trap. Guess I gave you too much credit."

Eren growled, muttering under his breath as he climbed onto the muddy bank. Jean followed, both of them dripping wet and looking more like drowned rats than recruits.

As they started trudging back toward the competition path, Niles called after them, his tone light. "Better hurry—Ymir and Krista passed through a while ago. Looked like they were actually working together."

Eren whipped around, glaring at Niles with renewed determination. "We'll catch up. Just wait and see!"

Niles smirked, waving them off. "I'll be here. Probably laughing."

Jean groaned, shaking water from his gear. "If we lose because of you, Jaeger, I'm never letting you live this down."

"If we lose," Eren shot back, "it'll be because of your 'caution.'"

Their voices faded as they stomped off into the forest, leaving Niles chuckling to himself atop the bridge. "Recruits," he muttered, shaking his head. "Never a dull moment."

****************************

Not far from the central tower, Sasha and Connie sat slumped against the same tree, their wrists securely tied and their ODM gear confiscated. They had been "detained" by one of the senior members—this time, Marlo, a stoic and rule-abiding scout who took his role far too seriously. He stood a few feet away, his arms crossed and his gaze scanning the surroundings for any further mischief.

"This is humiliating," Connie muttered, twisting his wrists futilely against the ropes. "We're just sitting ducks."

"At least the view isn't bad," Sasha replied nonchalantly, nodding toward the tower where the flag fluttered. "Could be worse."

"How, exactly?" Connie asked, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "Because this feels pretty rock bottom to me."

Sasha's eyes sparkled with mischief as she spotted Marlo pacing a short distance away, his focus momentarily elsewhere. She leaned closer to Connie, lowering her voice. "I've got an idea."

Connie squinted at her. "If it involves me getting tied to another tree, I'm not interested."

"No, no," Sasha whispered urgently. "Just follow my lead."

Marlo's steady patrol brought him closer to them, and Sasha seized the moment. "Hey, Marlo!" she called out, her voice bright and inviting. "You look like you've been working hard. Bet you're hungry, huh?"

Marlo froze, his brow furrowing as he turned to face her. "What?"

"I've got snacks," Sasha said conspiratorially, lowering her voice to a tempting whisper. "Top quality, hidden in my gear. Dried meat, the really good kind."

Connie's jaw dropped, and he turned to Sasha with a hissed whisper. "You don't have dried meat! You ate it all last week!"

"Shh!" Sasha hissed back, elbowing him.

Marlo raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. "Why would I untie you for snacks? That's against the rules."

Sasha leaned forward as far as the ropes would allow, her expression earnest. "Think of it as...an incentive. You let us go, and I make it worth your while. Trust me, you won't regret it."

Marlo hesitated, his resolve wavering as he considered the offer. Sasha could almost see the internal debate playing out in his mind. Finally, he sighed, crouching down to inspect the ropes. "This better not be a trick," he muttered, his tone warning.

"Oh, it's no trick," Sasha said sweetly, her eyes gleaming with mischief.

The moment Marlo loosened the knot, Sasha's hands shot free. With a triumphant laugh, she leaped to her feet and bolted toward the tree line, shouting over her shoulder, "Thanks for the assist, sucker!"

"Sasha!" Connie yelled, still tied to the tree. "What about me?!"

Marlo's expression darkened as he turned to Connie. "She left you behind?"

Connie groaned, slumping against the ropes. "Welcome to my life."

Marlo crossed his arms, shaking his head in disbelief. "You know, I'd consider letting you go if you weren't her accomplice."

"I'm not her accomplice!" Connie said indignantly. "I'm her victim! Can't you see that?"

Meanwhile, Sasha zipped through the trees, her ODM gear hissing as she made her escape. She glanced back once, grinning widely as Marlo's voice echoed in frustration.

"Next time, don't promise snacks you don't have!" Marlo shouted after her.

"Next time, don't fall for it!" Sasha shot back, her laughter trailing in the wind.

****************************

The imposing silhouette of the central tower loomed above Mikasa and Armin, its jagged edges wrapped in ropes and vines that made it look more like a fortress than a simple structure. Perched near the top, the bright red flag fluttered in the wind like a taunt. Below it, the senior members—Oluo, Isabel, and Gunther—patrolled the base with the confidence of veterans. The trio seemed at ease, but their sharp eyes and relaxed stances hinted at years of experience waiting to spring into action.

Armin crouched behind a fallen log, his blue eyes scanning the scene as his mind whirred. "We'll need a distraction," he whispered, the urgency in his tone clear. "Oluo's cocky, so he'll probably rise to any bait we throw. But Isabel's fast, and Gunther's got that hawk-like focus. One slip, and they'll catch us."

Mikasa crouched beside him, her expression calm and focused as her dark eyes analyzed the trio. "I'll handle Isabel," she said with quiet determination. "She's fast, but I'm faster."

Armin glanced at her, his lips curving into a faint smile despite the tension. "Be careful," he murmured, then added, "This feels just like old times."

Mikasa allowed herself a small smile in return. "We've got this."

Armin moved first. He crept around the base of the tower, keeping low and sticking to the shadows. His sharp eyes darted toward a pile of loose debris stacked haphazardly near the tower's edge—an ideal makeshift trap. He carefully unlatched his grappling hook and aimed for a dangling branch above the debris. With a soft click, the hook embedded itself in the wood, and Armin gave it a careful tug, testing its strength.

From her position, Mikasa watched as Isabel suddenly perked up, her sharp ears catching the faint sound. "Hey, did you hear that?" Isabel asked, tilting her head toward the trees.

Gunther turned his head slightly, his brows furrowing. "Could be someone sneaking around. Stay alert."

"Or," Oluo drawled, stretching lazily, "it's just another pair of cadets about to embarrass themselves."

Isabel rolled her eyes. "Yeah, because arrogance has never backfired, right?"

As the trio's banter continued, Armin made his move. With a sharp tug on his grappling hook, he sent the pile of debris cascading loudly to the ground. The sudden noise echoed across the clearing, and Oluo immediately shot to his feet.

"What the hell was that?" Oluo barked, his hand already on his gear.

"Go check it out," Gunther ordered, his gaze still scanning the other side of the clearing. "Isabel, with him."

Isabel saluted dramatically, a wide grin on her face. "Aye, aye, captain!" She darted off after Oluo, her fiery red hair trailing behind her like a streak of flame.

Gunther stayed behind, his expression calm but his eyes sharp as he continued to survey the area. "Not bad," he muttered under his breath. "But I'm not moving."

Mikasa's muscles tensed as Isabel approached, her movements fast and light. Mikasa waited for the perfect moment, her grip tightening on her blades. As Isabel passed her hiding spot, Mikasa sprang into action, launching herself from the shadows with precision. Her ODM gear hissed as she zipped toward Isabel, forcing the younger Ackerman to twist sharply to avoid her.

"Well, well, look who it is!" Isabel said, her voice brimming with excitement. "Big bro's favorite! You here to give me a challenge, Mikasa?"

Mikasa didn't respond, her movements fluid and relentless. She swung her blade toward Isabel, who barely managed to deflect it with her own. The clash of metal rang through the clearing as the two engaged in a fast-paced duel, their reflexes and skills evenly matched.

"You're good," Isabel admitted, grinning despite the effort it took to keep up. "But I'm faster!"

Mikasa smirked, her voice calm as she replied, "Not fast enough."

With a sudden feint to the left, Mikasa forced Isabel to overcommit, leaving her wide open. Mikasa spun mid-air and hooked Isabel's harness with her grappling hook, yanking it just enough to unbalance her. Isabel stumbled and landed on the ground with a huff, glaring up at Mikasa with mock annoyance.

"Okay, fine," Isabel said, raising her hands in surrender. "You win this round."

Mikasa didn't waste a second. She turned and darted back toward the tower, leaving Isabel behind with a mix of admiration and irritation in her eyes.

Meanwhile, Oluo stalked toward the source of the noise, muttering under his breath about how cadets always made the same mistakes. "Do they even think before they act?" he grumbled, scanning the area for any signs of movement.

Armin, perched high in the branches above, waited patiently. As Oluo stepped into the clearing, Armin triggered the tripwire he had set earlier. A net sprang up from the ground, ensnaring Oluo and leaving him dangling upside down from a nearby tree.

"What the—?!" Oluo shouted, flailing helplessly. "You little brats! Get me down from here!"

Armin suppressed a grin as he darted back toward the tower, leaving Oluo to dangle and curse in frustration.

Gunther, still guarding the base of the tower, was the last obstacle. He spotted Mikasa and Armin approaching and immediately drew his blades. "You're not getting past me," he said firmly, his stance unyielding.

Armin exchanged a quick glance with Mikasa, his expression calm. "We'll see about that," he said.

Gunther charged toward them, his movements precise and deliberate. Mikasa met him head-on, their blades clashing in a flurry of sparks. Armin, meanwhile, used the distraction to dart around the tower's base, his grappling hook latching onto a nearby ledge.

Gunther's eyes flicked toward Armin for a split second—just long enough for Mikasa to exploit. She twisted sharply, using her momentum to disarm him with a well-placed strike. Gunther's blade clattered to the ground as he stumbled back, his expression a mix of surprise and approval.

"Not bad," he said, raising his hands in mock surrender. "You've earned it."

Mikasa didn't waste a second. She followed Armin up the tower, her movements swift and efficient. Together, they reached the flag, their teamwork seamless as Armin untied it from its post.

****************************

The base camp came into view as Mikasa and Armin zipped through the trees, the bright red flag fluttering triumphantly in Mikasa's grasp. The wind rushed past them, carrying the sound of their ODM gear hissing and the occasional cheer from the defeated cadets below. Mikasa glanced down, catching glimpses of their envious gazes.

"Look at them go," Jean grumbled from where he sat, slumped against a tree. His dirt-streaked face twisted with equal parts irritation and admiration. "They make it look easy."

"Shut up, horse-face," Eren growled, crossing his arms. "We would've had the flag if someone had actually listened to me!"

Jean whipped around. "Oh, sure, because following you has worked so well all day."

"Doesn't matter," Ymir drawled lazily, her arm draped over a grinning Krista. "The lovebirds have this one in the bag."

"They're not lovebirds," Connie chimed in, his eyes narrowing as he watched Mikasa and Armin zip by. "They're just freakishly good at this."

"Yeah," Sasha teased from her spot beside him, her tone lilting with mock solemnity. "Brains and brawn. Terrifying combo."

Above the chatter, Mikasa and Armin landed lightly on a branch near the final stretch. Their eyes met, and for a moment, the fatigue of the competition faded.

"Nice work," Armin said, his tone warm as he extended his fist.

Mikasa smirked, a rare expression softening her usually stoic features, and met his fist with her own. "Couldn't have done it without you."

As their fists bumped, a faint but familiar voice called out from below.

"Well, well," came the dry tone, laced with amusement. "Enjoying your victory lap already?"

Mikasa and Armin froze. Their heads whipped around to find Levi standing on a nearby branch, arms crossed and a faint smirk tugging at his lips. His presence seemed to suck the air out of the clearing. How had he appeared so suddenly, so silently?

"Le- Captain?" Mikasa stammered, her usual composure slipping. "I thought you weren't participating."

"I changed my mind," Levi replied nonchalantly, tilting his head slightly as his sharp gray eyes fixed on her. "Congratulations on your teamwork. Truly impressive."

Armin's smile faltered as he glanced nervously between Mikasa and Levi. "Uh, thank you, Captain."

Levi's smirk deepened, and before either of them could react, he launched forward. His blade flashed as it struck out, catching Armin squarely in the harness. The boy barely had time to yelp before he tumbled to the ground below, landing in a graceless heap.

"Armin!" Mikasa shouted, instinctively stepping toward him.

Levi didn't give her the chance to help. In a split second, he lunged again, his speed almost unnatural. Mikasa's reflexes kicked in, and she narrowly dodged his strike, twisting her body mid-air as she clutched the flag tightly.

"Protecting the flag, are we?" Levi teased, his tone maddeningly smug as he balanced effortlessly on a nearby branch. "That's adorable."

Mikasa's heart raced, her grip on the flag tightening as she steadied herself. "This is unfair, Captain. The competition's already over."

"Over?" Levi echoed, raising an eyebrow. "Not until you make it back to camp."

From below, Sasha's voice cut through the air, barely suppressing her laughter. "Oh, this is good. Ten bucks says Mikasa wins!"

"She's got no chance," Connie countered, eyes wide as he watched the scene unfold. "That's Captain Levi."

Isabel, practically vibrating with excitement, clapped her hands together. "I knew this would happen! Big bro's going all out!"

"You mean Captain Levi," Jean corrected, his brow furrowing as he glanced at her suspiciously.

"Oh, sure, sure," Isabel replied quickly, though her gleeful grin gave her away. "Captain Levi."

The chase resumed above them, Mikasa zipping through the trees with a combination of speed and precision that left even the defeated cadets below awestruck. Levi was right behind her, his movements smooth and calculated, like a predator chasing its prey.

"You're fast," Levi called, his voice calm despite the breakneck pace. "But you've still got a lot to learn."

Mikasa gritted her teeth, her mind racing as she tried to outmaneuver him. She swung wide around a dense cluster of branches, using her momentum to gain a brief lead. Her sharp eyes scanned the terrain ahead, spotting a narrow crevice between two towering trees. It was a risky move, but it might give her the edge she needed.

She darted through the gap, her smaller frame slipping through effortlessly. For a moment, she thought she'd lost him. Then, without warning, Levi appeared ahead of her, perched on a branch like he'd been waiting there all along.

"Miss me?" he asked, his smirk infuriatingly smug.

Mikasa's heart slammed against her ribs. She twisted sharply, veering off course and forcing herself into a steeper ascent. The flag fluttered wildly in her grasp as she pushed her ODM gear to its limits, her mind flashing back to training with Levi.

Below, Sasha leaned closer to Connie, whispering loud enough for the others to hear. "I think they're flirting."

"What?" Connie whispered back, his brow furrowing. "No way."

"Oh, come on," Sasha said, her grin widening. "The chase? The banter? It's practically romantic."

Jean groaned, dragging a hand down his face. "Why are we even friends?"

Back in the treetops, Mikasa made her move. She doubled back suddenly, throwing Levi off for just a split second. It was enough. She landed on a thick branch, crouching low as she caught her breath. The flag was still in her grasp, her knuckles white against the crimson fabric.

"Not bad," Levi's voice came from behind her, startling her. He stood a few feet away, his expression unreadable.

Their gazes locked, the world around them fading into the background. Mikasa's pulse thundered in her ears as she adjusted her grip on the flag, her resolve hardening.

"Come and get it," she said, her voice steady despite the adrenaline coursing through her veins.

Levi's smirk widened, his gray eyes glinting with challenge. "Don't mind if I do."

Mikasa darted through the trees, her movements growing more erratic as she pushed her ODM gear to its absolute limit. The hissing sound of her gas cylinders filled the air, her grappling hooks zipping out with precision. She could hear Levi right behind her, his movements as fluid and relentless as ever.

Her breathing quickened as she twisted around another thick branch, the flag still clutched tightly in her grasp. She tried to pull ahead, but the familiar hiss of her gear faltered, sputtering briefly before going silent.

No gas.

Panic surged through her as she reached for her emergency reserves, but her fingers found nothing. At the same time, one of her wires snagged on a gnarled tree branch, yanking her trajectory off course. She hurtled toward a massive trunk, her body twisting in mid-air as she braced for impact.

"Mikasa!" Levi's voice cut through the chaos, sharp and commanding.

Before she could process it, a shadow blurred past her. Levi moved impossibly fast, his ODM gear propelling him forward in a burst of speed. He reached her just before she collided with the tree, wrapping one arm around her waist and twisting his body to shield her from the impact.

The sound of Levi's back slamming into the trunk was sickening, the force rattling through both of them as they came to an abrupt stop. Levi grunted, his body absorbing the brunt of the collision as Mikasa clung to him, her breath catching in her throat.

They hung suspended in the air for a moment, Levi's grappling hooks embedded deeply in the bark to keep them steady. His face was inches from hers, their ragged breaths mingling as the shock of the moment settled over them.

"Are you—" Mikasa started, her voice trembling, but Levi's sharp gaze locked onto hers, silencing her.

The Look.

It was the same look he'd given her last night, when the distance between them had vanished and every unspoken word lingered in the space they shared. His gray eyes softened, just barely, as his grip on her waist tightened imperceptibly. For a moment, everything else—the competition, the cadets below, the looming tower—faded away.

"You're reckless," Levi muttered, his tone low and tinged with something she couldn't quite place.

Mikasa's lips parted, but no words came. Her heart thundered against her ribs, her mind flashing to the quiet moments they'd shared in his room, the rare vulnerability he allowed her to see. Now, that same vulnerability flickered in his expression, though it was quickly masked by his usual calm.

Then, with infuriating nonchalance, Levi reached out and plucked the flag from her grasp.

"What—?" Mikasa sputtered, her shock snapping her out of the haze. "Captain!"

Levi smirked, his tone smug as he tucked the flag into his belt. "You were distracted. Rookie mistake."

Mikasa's eyes narrowed, her shock quickly morphing into indignation. "You—"

"Save the lecture for later," Levi interrupted, releasing one of his grappling hooks to adjust their position. He steadied her with one hand before propelling them both toward a nearby branch, where he set her down carefully.

From below, the cadets erupted into a mix of cheers and groans as they watched the scene unfold.

"That was so unfair!" Eren shouted, his voice carrying across the clearing. "She had it!"

"Rules are rules," Jean said smugly, though he looked just as exasperated. "Not that you'd know anything about winning."

Nearby, Sasha clutched her stomach as she doubled over with laughter. "Oh, this is too good. Levi just stole her thunder!"

"More like stole her heart," Isabel chimed in, practically vibrating with excitement. "Did you see that? Big bro went full knight-in-shining-armor!"

"Captain Levi," Jean corrected again, glaring at her.

"Sure, sure," Isabel said dismissively, her grin widening as she leaned closer to Sasha. "Bet you ten bucks he doesn't let her live this down."

On the branch, Mikasa crossed her arms, her glare sharp enough to cut steel. "You didn't have to take the impact like that."

Levi shrugged, adjusting the flag at his waist. "Didn't have to, but I did. You're welcome."

Mikasa opened her mouth to argue, but Levi leaned closer, his voice dropping low enough for only her to hear. "And next time, don't let your guard down just because we're... familiar."

Her cheeks burned at the implication, and she instinctively glanced down at the cadets, who were still shouting and gesturing wildly. Only Sasha and Isabel seemed to be piecing together what had happened—Isabel's wide grin and Sasha's mischievous whispering made that clear.

****************************

Will upload chap 9 on Dec 6 or 7

Chapter Text

The massive hall of the Survey Corps headquarters was filled to capacity, the air thick with tension and anticipation. Rows of recruits and senior members sat shoulder to shoulder, their voices hushed, as if even whispers could disturb the gravity of the moment. At the front of the room stood Commander Erwin Smith, his expression as unyielding as the stone walls that enclosed them.

Levi leaned casually against the side wall, arms crossed, his sharp eyes scanning the crowd. Beside him, Hange shuffled through a stack of notes, their excitement barely contained. Across the room, Mikasa sat beside Armin and Eren, her gaze steady but troubled. Sasha fiddled nervously with a piece of bread in her pocket, while Connie and Jean exchanged uneasy glances.

The sharp sound of Erwin clearing his throat silenced the room instantly. Every eye turned toward him as he stepped forward, his hands clasped tightly behind his back.

"We have one month," he began, his voice calm but commanding. "One month to prepare for the next expedition beyond the walls."

A ripple of murmurs swept through the recruits, but Erwin's piercing gaze silenced them instantly.

"This mission will not be like the others," he continued, his tone grave. "We've lost too many lives. We've lost ground, opportunities—and more importantly, trust in ourselves. But this time, we are armed with something new: knowledge. Thanks to our ongoing research and experiments, we have gained critical insights that will give us an edge."

The room remained silent, the weight of his words pressing down on everyone like a physical force. Erwin let the silence linger for a moment before continuing.

"Intelligence has reached us from multiple sources," he said, his tone sharp, "that Titans have been sighted gathering near an abandoned outpost in the eastern forest. What makes this peculiar is their behavior. They are not mindless. They are not wandering aimlessly as they have in the past. They are...congregating."

This revelation sent a ripple of unease through the room. Gasps and hushed whispers broke out among the recruits.

Erwin raised his hand, silencing the murmurs. "This is not random. This is not coincidence. And if we are to push forward in our fight for humanity's survival, we must understand what drives this behavior. We must find out what lies in that forest."

The hall remained tense, soldiers exchanging uneasy glances. Mikasa shifted in her seat, her sharp eyes narrowing as she watched Erwin carefully. Eren sat rigidly beside her, his jaw clenched, while Armin's brow furrowed in thought, as if already dissecting the implications of Erwin's words.

"Beyond this objective," Erwin continued, his voice unwavering, "we have another purpose. Through rigorous testing and experimentation, we have begun to uncover the true potential of Eren Jaeger's Titan ability."

A murmur rose again, this time laced with curiosity and hope. Hange seized the moment, stepping forward with a grin.

"Damn right, we have!" Hange exclaimed, their voice brimming with excitement. "Eren's starting to get the hang of this Titan thing! Actual control, people. Do you know what this means? For the first time in history, we might actually have a fighting chance to turn the tide."

Eren shifted uncomfortably under the weight of so many eyes on him, but Mikasa's steady presence at his side grounded him. She gave him a slight nod, and his posture straightened.

Hange continued, their enthusiasm infectious. "We've got one month. One month to train, to strategize, and to prepare for what could be our most critical mission yet. But let me be clear: this is not just another expedition. This is a turning point. Out there in that forest, we're not just fighting for survival. We're taking a step toward understanding the enemy."

Erwin stepped forward again, reclaiming the room with his commanding presence. "But let me be perfectly clear," he said, his gaze sweeping over the gathered soldiers. "This mission will not be easy. It will test your skills, your resolve, and your loyalty to one another. This forest is uncharted territory. The Titans are not the only danger we face. Out there, the unknown is just as lethal."

His piercing blue eyes locked onto the crowd, seeming to meet every soldier's gaze. "We must stand together. We must be stronger than ever before. Because this time, we have something to fight for—something to take back."

Erwin's voice rose slightly, his tone imbued with determination. "We now have a greater chance to take back what's ours. Prepare yourselves, soldiers of the Survey Corps. In one month, we ride."

The hall fell into silence, the weight of his words settling over everyone like a heavy cloak. No one moved, the gravity of the announcement hanging in the air.

"Dismissed," Erwin said simply, his voice cutting through the quiet like a blade. "Prepare yourselves."

****************************

The tension in the room lingered like a bad smell as recruits broke into smaller groups. Quiet conversations filled the space, voices hushed but edged with nervous energy.

"I can't believe we're going out again so soon," Krista murmured, her hands clasped tightly in her lap.

Ymir, leaning against the wall with casual indifference, threw an arm around her. "Oh, come on. It's Erwin. He probably thinks 'rest' is some mythical concept we made up to feel better about dying."

"That's comforting," Jean muttered, dropping onto a bench and burying his face in his hands. "Remind me to send him a thank-you note when I get eaten."

"Jean, you've got the survival instincts of a cornered chicken," Connie quipped, sprawled lazily across the table. "If anyone's getting eaten first, it's you."

Jean's head shot up. "Excuse me? I'm the only one here who actually uses his brain!"

"Uses might be a stretch," Ymir drawled, smirking. "I'd call it panicking efficiently."

"Shut it, Ymir," Jean shot back, glaring.

"Relax," Reiner said with a faint chuckle from where he stood nearby. "The Titans won't eat you first. They'll probably start with Sasha."

"Hey!" Sasha snapped, mid-bite as she clutched a roll defensively. "Why me?"

"Because you'd smell like a walking buffet since you are always eating," Reiner replied simply.

Sasha shot back, pointing at his towering frame. "You're the snack-sized one here, Reiner."

Connie barked out a laugh, nearly sliding off the table. "Sasha, I'm pretty sure that's the nicest insult I've ever heard."

"Don't encourage her," Reiner muttered, though Bertolt was quietly shaking with laughter beside him.

Eren, who had been silent until now, suddenly stood, his voice cutting through the noise like a knife. "Enough. We're not going to die."

The group fell quiet. Eren's fists were clenched at his sides, his green eyes blazing with the kind of stubborn fire only he seemed to possess.

"If we work together, if we fight like hell, then we'll make it back," he continued. "Every single one of us."

The group exchanged glances, Eren's conviction settling over them like a weight. For a moment, no one said anything.

Then Connie raised a hand, breaking the silence. "Uh, question. If Sasha dies first, can I have her food stash?"

Sasha choked mid-bite, coughing as she glared daggers at him. "Are you serious?!"

Ymir smirked. "See? Connie's got priorities. Respect."

"I'm not dead yet!" Sasha shouted, clutching her roll to her chest like it was her firstborn child. "You vultures can fight over someone else!"

Jean groaned, dragging a hand down his face. "Can you all stop talking about dying for five seconds?"

"It's better than panicking about it," Mikasa said calmly from where she sat, arms crossed.

Jean pointed at her, frustrated. "Don't you start with me, Mikasa."

"She's not wrong," Connie said, grinning. "You're like a stress ball with legs."

"You're the stress ball!" Jean snapped, his voice cracking slightly.

"I'll outlive all of you," Sasha muttered, breaking off another piece of bread with dramatic emphasis.

"Survival of the hungriest," Connie agreed, ducking as Sasha launched the leftover roll at his head.

Across the room, Hange's voice rang out like a gleeful bell. "I love the sound of bonding! Keep it up—this is the energy we'll need out there!"

Jean groaned louder, slumping onto the table in defeat. "Now we have to survive just so Hange doesn't throw a party at our funerals."

"Deal," Armin said softly, though there was a quiet steel in his voice. He glanced at Mikasa, who gave a faint nod, then at Eren, whose fire hadn't dimmed.

The banter faded into a hum of quiet determination, the laughter lingering like a fragile thread of hope. Whatever waited for them out there, they'd face it together.

****************************

As the recruits began to disperse, Mikasa noticed Armin lingering near the window, his brows furrowed and his gaze distant. She approached quietly, her voice soft when she spoke.

"Armin, what's wrong?"

He glanced at her, hesitating before he spoke. "It's Erwin. I think...I think this expedition isn't just about reclaiming territory."

Mikasa frowned, her dark eyes searching his face. "What do you mean?"

Armin exhaled slowly, his voice dropping to a whisper. "When Eren transformed for the first time, the two titans that breached the wall stopped attacking. That wasn't a coincidence. Whoever the enemy is, they're interested in Eren. And only the trainees saw his transformation."

Mikasa's eyes widened slightly, but she remained silent, letting him continue.

"And the captured Titans—Sonny and Bean—they were killed by someone using ODM gear. That means the enemy is among us. Erwin knows this."

Her stomach twisted, but she kept her voice steady. "You think this expedition is a trap?"

Armin shook his head. "Not a trap. A test. Erwin's pushing us out so soon because he's trying to flush them out. He wants to see who acts suspiciously when the pressure's on."

Mikasa's gaze hardened. "And if he finds them?"

Armin didn't answer immediately. When he did, his voice was low. "We'll deal with them. One way or another."

The tension hung heavy between them, but Mikasa placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "We'll be ready. No matter what."

****************************

The midday sun hung high, casting sharp shadows over the training grounds. The steady clang of wooden swords echoed across the open space as Mikasa squared off against Levi, their movements a dance of speed and precision.

Levi moved like a blade himself—swift, deliberate, and unrelenting. His wooden sword struck out, forcing Mikasa to block with enough force that her arms stung.

"You're being harsher than usual, Captain," Mikasa muttered, sweat trickling down her temple.

Levi didn't falter, circling her like a hawk. "Harsh? You think this is harsh?" His voice was low, edged with challenge. "Tch. If you can't handle me, Ackerman, you'll crumble when it matters."

Her jaw clenched. He was testing her—and not just her skills. She'd noticed it for days now—Levi's squad, especially Farlan, Isabel, Petra, Gunther, Eld, and Oluo, had been training harder than ever. Every drill was more grueling than the last, every mistake met with pointed corrections. It was no secret why. The Female Titan's ambush had left a scar on them all.

He cared, though he'd never say it aloud. He pushed them hard not out of cruelty, but out of fear—fear that next time, he wouldn't be fast enough to save them. And now, it seemed, Mikasa was no exception.

Levi darted in again, the tip of his sword aiming at her side. She barely deflected, but the force sent her staggering a step.

"Sloppy," he clipped.

"Not sloppy," she snapped, stepping in aggressively. Her strikes came fast, relentless, but Levi met each one with maddening ease.

"You're worked up today," he said, their blades locking. "Trying to impress someone?"

"Didn't you tell me not to drop my guard just because we're 'familiar'?" Mikasa retorted, her voice taut. She pushed harder, forcing him back a step.

Levi's lips quirked faintly as he parried her blow. "Oh, you actually listen? Must be my lucky day."

Her glare sharpened, irritation surging with every effortless block of his. "I'm not in the mood, Captain."

"Good." Levi's movements blurred as he stepped inside her guard. With a swift flick of his wrist, her sword flew from her hands, clattering onto the dirt. Before she could recover, he was there—close enough that she caught the faint chill in his gray eyes.

Breathless, Mikasa straightened but didn't drop her gaze. Levi tilted his head slightly, voice dropping low so only she could hear.

"You'll thank me later," he murmured, calm but deliberate. "And don't worry—I'll make up for the bruises tonight."

Heat pricked her cheeks, but she forced herself to hold steady, ignoring the traitorous rush of color on her face. Levi didn't miss it, though. The faint smirk tugging at his lips said as much.

"Pick it up," he ordered, stepping back as he pointed toward her discarded sword. "Again."

Mikasa retrieved her weapon quickly, her fingers curling tightly around the hilt as she moved back into position. The fire in her eyes burned brighter now, no longer just from the fight.

****************************

The crisp morning air bit at Mikasa's cheeks as she tugged her scarf tighter, the chill doing little to steady her pounding heart. She stood among the recruits on the training field, her eyes fixed on nothing in particular as the early sunlight stretched long and golden across the ground.

Her thoughts, however, weren't on the sunrise or the clatter of recruits warming up nearby. They were trapped in fragments of the night before—soft, stolen moments in the dim light of Levi's room.

The way his hands had found every bruise and traced them gently, as though trying to erase the pain he'd caused earlier that day. His lips murmuring against her skin, "Here. Does this make it better?" His voice—so low and unguarded—had sent heat coiling through her chest, drowning out the ache of exhaustion.

Mikasa exhaled sharply, the faintest flush creeping up her neck as the memory deepened. The press of his body, his deliberate movements, the quiet intensity in his gaze—as if she were the only thing anchoring him in the chaos. It left a mark on her, lingering like the faint bruise of his grip on her wrist.

Her fingers fidgeted with the edge of her scarf, an unconscious attempt to ground herself. Focus, she chided silently. This was not the time to unravel. Not here.

"Mikasa!"

The sudden voice jolted her back to reality. Connie jogged up, his grin as easygoing as ever, with Sasha trailing just behind—smirking like she already knew something she shouldn't.

"Hey, what were you doing in Captain Levi's room so early this morning?" Connie asked, a little too loudly, his tone laced with genuine curiosity but carrying that unmistakable teasing edge.

Mikasa froze, her hand still halfway to adjusting her boot strap. The chatter around them quieted, heads turning with poorly hidden interest. Even Eren stopped mid-gulp, frowning as he glanced between Mikasa and Connie.

Mikasa straightened instantly, her face smoothing into her familiar mask of calm. "Delivering reports," she said flatly, her tone carrying just enough edge to make it clear the conversation was over. "Before training."

It was a reasonable answer—too reasonable for Sasha, who raised an eyebrow as her smirk widened. "Reports? That early? Sounds like you're very thorough with your work, Mikasa."

Mikasa's eyes narrowed sharply, sending an unspoken warning Sasha's way. But Sasha only hummed knowingly, the glint in her eye betraying her enjoyment of Mikasa's discomfort.

Jean, standing a few feet away, didn't look convinced. His arms were crossed tightly over his chest, his scowl deeper than usual. "Right. Reports," he muttered, just loud enough for Mikasa to hear.

Her fingers curled slightly, but she didn't dignify him with a response. She kept her posture rigid, her focus forward, as the others began to lose interest. Jean's gaze lingered, though, like an itch she couldn't scratch.

Connie, thankfully oblivious to the undercurrents, shrugged. "Makes sense. Captain's a hard-ass about reports. Anyway, heads up—he's leading the run today."

Mikasa blinked, turning sharply to him. "He's what?"

"Yeah," Connie replied, already bouncing on his feet as he stretched. "His ankle's healed up enough. Guess he's sick of sitting around and watching us suffer."

The blood drained slightly from Mikasa's face as the implications sank in. If Levi was leading the run, there would be no avoiding him—and no avoiding Sasha's knowing glances, either.

Sasha caught Mikasa's look and offered her a wink before jogging off to join the others.

By mid-morning, the recruits stood gathered at the base of the plains, the scent of grass and damp earth heavy in the cool air.

Captain Levi stood before the group, hands tucked into his pockets, his sharp gaze sweeping over them with faint disinterest. He didn't look like a man about to run them into the ground—if anything, he looked bored.

"Listen up," Levi said, his tone cutting through the murmurs like a blade. "Today's about stamina. I don't care how fast you start or how much you show off—what matters is that you finish. And finish strong." He adjusted his gloves with calm, measured movements. "I'll be joining you."

A collective groan rippled through the recruits.

"Of course he is," Jean muttered, slouching slightly. "Because running isn't miserable enough without him showing off."

Eren snorted, bouncing on his feet beside Mikasa. "Just try not to collapse halfway through, Jean."

Jean shot him a look. "Worry about yourself, Titan boy."

Mikasa ignored their bickering, her gaze fixed on Levi as he stepped to the far end of the line. Her chest tightened. Why today? She adjusted her scarf as the group lined up, trying to steady herself.

"Move it," Levi barked. "Form up."

The recruits fell into place, their breaths already visible in the cool air. Mikasa stood at the front, next to Eren. She stretched lightly, her focus sharpening as Levi raised his hand.

"Go."

They surged forward at a punishing pace, the pounding of boots filling the morning stillness. Mikasa pulled ahead with practiced ease, her strides long and efficient. She caught the familiar sound of Eren's footsteps behind her, along with the scattered grunts and curses of those already struggling to keep up.

For a while, she led comfortably. Her breathing was steady, her movements smooth, but then—

The sound of footsteps.

Not heavy. Not hurried. Impossibly light.

Her stomach sank, and she risked a glance over her shoulder. Levi. He wasn't sprinting or straining—he was gliding. Calm. Effortless. His gaze was fixed forward, as if the effort was barely worth his attention.

Mikasa's grip on her focus tightened, determination flaring in her chest. She pushed harder, her muscles burning as she lengthened her stride.

And Levi passed her.

It wasn't flashy. It wasn't even dramatic. He simply moved, and suddenly, he was ahead of her.

Mikasa gritted her teeth, her breath coming faster now as she surged forward to keep pace. Behind her, voices drifted over the sound of running.

"Is Mikasa... losing?" Connie asked, his voice tinged with disbelief.

"She's working for it," Sasha panted beside him. "Look at her—she's actually sweating."

Jean, struggling further back, groaned. "Captain Show-Off isn't even trying."

Up front, Mikasa pushed harder. She caught up to Levi, pulling alongside him with labored breaths. "I'm... just getting started," she said sharply, though her voice betrayed her effort.

Levi's gaze flicked toward her, the faintest glint of amusement in his eyes. "Good," he said, his tone maddeningly calm. "I'd hate for this to be boring."

Mikasa's pulse skipped—not from exertion this time but from the way his words lingered in the air, heavy with something unspoken. She clenched her fists and surged forward, pulling ahead for the briefest moment.

And then Levi overtook her again.

It was smooth, unhurried—he'd been holding back. Mikasa's chest heaved, frustration and something else simmering beneath the surface. When she finally reached the finish line, Levi was already there, waiting.

Her steps slowed as she stumbled to a stop, hands braced on her knees. Her scarf slipped slightly, and she tugged it back into place with trembling fingers. The cold air burned her lungs, but she forced herself to stand straight.

Levi watched her, his arms crossed. "Not bad," he said, his voice low and edged with dry amusement. "For a rookie."

Mikasa's glare snapped to him. "I wasn't trying that hard," she managed between breaths.

Levi stepped closer, just enough for his voice to lower into something quieter—something only she could hear. "You're a terrible liar."

Her breath hitched slightly, heat crawling up her neck as he leaned in a fraction more, his presence overwhelming despite his calm. "You're improving," he murmured. "But don't let it go to your head."

Mikasa straightened, her heart thudding hard against her ribs as their gazes locked. "Are you saying I did well, Captain?" she shot back, a hint of challenge in her tone.

Levi's lips quirked faintly. "Don't push it."

The moment shattered as Eren crossed the finish line, gasping and nearly collapsing onto the grass. "What... was that?" he wheezed. "He's... not human."

But Levi, ever composed, simply turned and addressed the group. "You've got five minutes to recover. Then we're doing it again."

Jean stumbled over moments later, dropping onto his back. "Mikasa, what's your excuse? You're supposed to be the ace."

Mikasa ignored him, her gaze still on Levi as he turned and walked back with that infuriating, unbothered stride. Her hands curled into fists, her competitive spirit flickering to life.

Next time, she thought, watching his retreating figure. Next time, I'll beat him.

Nearby, Sasha flopped dramatically onto the grass. "Someone drag me to the mess hall. I'm dead."

"Same," Connie groaned, collapsing beside her. "Running's overrated."

Armin jogged up, red-faced but steady. "It's not about strength," he said thoughtfully, glancing at Levi. "It's... efficiency. He doesn't waste a single movement."

Jean groaned loudly, dragging a hand over his face. "He's just showing off."

****************************

The crisp afternoon air buzzed with energy as squads from across the Survey Corps gathered on the training grounds. The usual routine sparring had turned into something closer to a festival—boisterous laughter, taunts, and the rhythmic clatter of wooden blades echoed across the open field.

Captain Levi stood at the edge of the grounds, arms crossed, observing it all with his usual deadpan stare. Though his expression was one of utter disinterest, his sharp gaze missed nothing—especially the recruits he knew were about to humiliate themselves.

Near the center, Mikasa and the rest of the 104th Cadet Corps stood lined up, warily watching the squads arrive. Jean muttered under his breath, "Why does this feel like a setup?"

"Because it probably is," Connie replied, his grin lazy as he stretched. "Hange's here. That's never a good sign."

Sure enough, Hange's squad entered first, led by Hange herself, who was practically vibrating with excitement. She waved her arms as though commanding an invisible army. "Look at all this untapped potential!" she declared. "Like a field of baby Titans waiting to blossom!"

Moblit groaned, clutching a stack of notes. "Captain, please. Keep the experiments off the field this time."

"That's what you said last week," Keiji added, glaring at Hange. "And I still can't look to the left without my neck popping."

"That's called character development," Hange replied brightly. "You're welcome!"

Levi's voice cut in, dry and unimpressed. "If you start another circus act, Hange, I'll have you running laps with them."

Hange grinned unapologetically. "Oh, Levi. Always the killjoy."

On Levi's side of the field, his squad arrived with far more discipline—or at least they tried. Petra, Gunther, Eld, and Oluo looked composed, but Isabel's energy was already spilling over as she swung her wooden sword a little too close to Oluo's head.

"Watch it, brat!" Oluo snapped, ducking just in time. "What's wrong with you?!"

Isabel grinned, twirling her blade dramatically. "What's wrong with you? I'm just warming up."

"Warm up somewhere else," Oluo grumbled, rubbing his temple. "Preferably far away from me."

"Alright, who wants to lose first?" Isabel called out, hopping toward the cadets. Her grin was practically blinding as she pointed her sword at Jean. "How about you, tall and grumpy?"

Jean rolled his eyes. "You're like three feet tall. What are you gonna do, bite my knees?"

"Keep talking," Isabel said sweetly. "You'll look great eating dirt. Big bro trained me, you know?"

From the other side, Nanaba and Gelgar entered, bringing their contrasting energies. Nanaba offered a polite nod to Mikasa. "I hear you're the one to watch. Maybe you'll show the rest of your squad how it's done."

Jean immediately bristled. "Hey! We're not that bad."

"Yeah, sure," Farlan chimed in dryly as he passed. "Jean, didn't you trip over your gear yesterday?"

"That was a tactical fall!" Jean shot back, his face flushing crimson.

Petra laughed softly, shaking her head. "There's no such thing as a tactical fall, Jean."

"Thank you," Oluo said, smirking. "Finally, someone with common sense."

"Careful, Oluo," Reiner called out, cracking his knuckles as he stepped into the sparring ring. His towering presence was enough to quiet the nearby recruits. "You talk a big game. Let's see if you can back it up."

Oluo raised an eyebrow, his smirk not faltering. "From you? I've fought walls with more personality."

"Save the banter for after I'm done with you," Reiner shot back smoothly, stepping forward.

The recruits and senior squads began filtering into sparring circles, the energy in the air growing electric. Isabel practically bounced into the first ring, dragging Farlan by the arm. "Come on, we've got to show these guys who's boss!"

Farlan sighed, resigned. "You're the boss. I'm just the guy who has to clean up after you."

"Stop whining and fight me," Isabel declared, pointing at Jean with a dramatic flourish. "You're up, tactical fall."

Jean groaned. "Oh, for—fine! But don't cry when I win."

As the sparring circles erupted into action, Hange's voice carried above the noise. "Yes! This is what I like to see! Raw energy! Flawed form! So much room for improvement!"

"Or so much room for injuries," Moblit muttered as he scribbled notes furiously.

Levi's gaze lingered on Mikasa as she stepped into a ring of her own, wooden sword in hand.

Hange glanced at him, smirking widely, following his gaze. "You look thrilled, Captain. Something interesting over there?"

"Shut up, Hange," Levi replied flatly.

And as the wooden blades began to clash, the training grounds came alive, filled with laughter, cheers, and the sound of swords meeting in the crisp afternoon air.

****************************

Oluo stepped into the ring with his usual swagger, rolling his shoulders and cracking his neck like he was warming up for a championship fight.

"Alright, big guy," Oluo announced, jabbing his sword dramatically in Reiner's direction. "Time to show you how real soldiers fight."

Reiner smirked, his stance relaxed but solid. "Real soldiers? You mean the ones who grunt every time they sit down?"

Oluo narrowed his eyes. "Watch it, Braun. I'm in my prime."

Reiner chuckled, shifting his grip on his sword. "Your knees sound like broken hinges, old man. If that's your prime, retirement must look real close."

A ripple of laughter erupted from the crowd of recruits.

"Alright, brat," Oluo growled, his face twitching. "You're going down."

The sparring match began with a sharp clap, and for a moment, it looked like Oluo had a plan—he darted forward, feinting left and striking hard. But Reiner barely flinched, meeting each attack with the kind of unbothered precision that said nice try.

Thirty seconds later, Oluo was flat on his back, arms sprawled as Reiner loomed over him, victorious.

"Still think you can take me down a peg?" Reiner teased, extending a hand with a smug grin.

Oluo groaned, waving him off. "Yeah... give me an hour. Or two. Maybe a nap."

From the sidelines, Isabel's voice rang out like a bell. "Don't forget your dentures, old man!"

The crowd burst into fresh laughter as Oluo sat up, scowling.

Levi, watching with his usual deadpan expression, added with a faint tilt of his head, "Your prime's looking a little expired, Oluo."

Oluo's glare swept the crowd. "Laugh it up now, you little punks," he muttered, jabbing a finger toward Reiner. "Especially you, Braun. Enjoy the victory while you can."

Oluo grumbled as he limped out of the ring, Isabel skipping beside him. "Need me to carry you, Grandpa?"

"Don't push it, kid," he shot back, though even he couldn't fully suppress his smile as the crowd continued to laugh.

****************************

Jean sighed heavily as Isabel bounced into the ring, practically vibrating with excitement. "Can't I spar against someone serious?" he muttered, running a hand through his hair.

Isabel gasped dramatically, clutching her chest as if she'd been struck by lightning. "Excuse me? I am the most serious person here. Can't you see the warrior's spirit radiating off me?"

Jean raised an unimpressed eyebrow. "All I see is a hyperactive kid with too much free time."

"Hyperactive?" Isabel smirked, pretending to twirl an invisible mustache. "No, no, Jean-boy. What you're seeing is raw, untamed talent. Take notes—you might actually stay on your feet next time."

"Yeah, we'll see about that, short stack," Jean grumbled, taking his stance.

The sparring match started—and ended—in a blur. Jean lunged, swinging his wooden sword with a predictable arc. Isabel ducked beneath it effortlessly, spinning behind him. Before Jean could so much as blink, she kicked his legs out from under him, sending him crashing to the ground with a loud thud.

Before he could react, Isabel was already standing on his chest, her wooden sword pointed dramatically at his face. "Who's biting knees now, huh?" she crowed, grinning ear to ear.

The crowd erupted into laughter. Connie was the first to lose it, doubling over. "Jean, are you fighting Isabel or gravity?"

From the sidelines, Oluo smirked. "At this point, we should just get him a pillow. The floor's clearly his best friend."

"Or a mattress," Eld chimed in, stroking his chin thoughtfully. "He's got this whole horizontal sparring style down to an art."

Jean sat up, his face bright red as he pointed an accusing finger at Isabel. "That was a fluke! I wasn't ready!"

"Fluke?" Isabel said innocently, already twirling her sword. "Then round two it is, Jean-boy. I'll make it quick."

Jean scrambled to his feet, his expression one of fiery determination—marred only slightly by the fact that his hair was sticking up at odd angles. "You're gonna regret this."

The second round was even worse. Jean swung wide, trying to corner Isabel, but she darted in close with snake-like speed and tapped him lightly on the forehead.

"Boop," she said, smirking.

Jean staggered back, flailing wildly, and Isabel seized the moment. She slipped behind him, swatting him on the back just hard enough to send him stumbling forward. He tripped over his own feet and landed face-first in the dirt.

This time, Connie and Sasha were on the ground in tears, howling with laughter.

"Jean, you're allergic to being upright!" Connie wheezed, clutching his stomach.

"The ground loves him more than we do," Sasha added, barely able to breathe.

Jean groaned dramatically, flipping onto his back like a fallen tree. "You're both dead to me," he shouted weakly, waving his sword at them like an angry conductor.

Levi, watching with his usual unimpressed stare, shook his head. "Pathetic," he muttered. "And I don't even mean Isabel."

Jean shot him a look, then groaned louder, draping an arm over his face like he was mourning his dignity. "This isn't over, Isabel," he grumbled. "I demand a rematch."

Isabel pranced around the ring with her sword held high like a victorious gladiator. "Anytime! But maybe next time, bring kneepads and a helmet—you'll need them."

Connie flopped dramatically next to Jean. "Don't worry, man. If sparring doesn't work out, you could always become a professional napper."

"Shut up, Connie," Jean muttered, flopping back into the dirt as Isabel struck a final pose, basking in her victory.

****************************

Gelgar spun his wooden sword with exaggerated flair, striking a pose so dramatic it might've belonged on a stage. "Alright, Titan boy," he drawled, grinning at Eren. "Let's see if you can actually fight without turning into a fifteen-meter temper tantrum."

Eren bristled instantly, his fists clenching around the wooden sword. "I can fight just fine without transforming!"

Gelgar raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "Oh, sure. Just like you fought 'just fine' last expedition when you face-planted into a tree."

The recruits erupted into laughter. Connie practically fell over, gasping between fits of giggles. "The tree didn't even see it coming!"

Eren's face turned crimson. "That was tactical! I was trying to throw off the Titans!"

Gelgar smirked, sliding into a loose stance. "Tactical? The tree must've felt real honored to be part of your grand strategy. Poor thing never stood a chance."

From the sidelines, Isabel chimed in with a wicked grin. "Eren's just misunderstood! He's waging war against all vegetation!"

"Shut up!" Eren snapped, his glare shifting between Gelgar and Isabel.

Eren lunged forward with all the subtlety of a charging ox, swinging his sword in a wild arc. Gelgar sidestepped effortlessly, barely even moving. "You fight Titans with this technique?" Gelgar called over his shoulder, yawning theatrically as Eren missed again. "No wonder they're still winning."

Eren growled, teeth gritted, and swung harder, his blade finally clashing against Gelgar's with a loud crack. "See? I've got you now!"

Gelgar tilted his head with a smirk. "Do you?"

Before Eren could blink, Gelgar slipped free with a swift twist and sent Eren's sword spinning out of his grip, clattering to the ground.

Jean's voice carried loudly from the sidelines, dripping with sarcasm. "Classic Eren! All bark, no bite!"

"Careful, Jean," Sasha whispered through laughter, nudging him. "If you keep talking, he might face-plant into you next."

Gelgar clapped Eren on the back so hard it nearly knocked him forward. "Not bad, kid," he said, grinning. "But next time, maybe try fighting smarter, not angrier. And, for the love of all things holy, let the trees live."

Eren slapped Gelgar's hand away, scrambling to his feet. "One more round!"

Gelgar looked at Levi with mock alarm, jerking a thumb toward Eren. "Hey, Captain. Is it safe to spar someone angrier than a drunk Titan?"

Levi, leaning casually with arms crossed, didn't even look that way. "If he dies, he dies."

****************************

The recruits were still laughing when Levi's voice cut through the noise, sharp and deliberate. "Alright, who's next?"

The crowd quieted immediately, shoulders tensing as everyone suddenly found the ground or sky far more interesting than the ring.

"Not so brave now, huh?" Connie whispered to Sasha, who nodded solemnly.

"Strategic retreat," Sasha whispered back. "Self-preservation is key."

"Looks like no volunteers," Hange chimed in, far too gleeful. She raised a hand, eyes glinting with mischief. "Captain Levi, might I suggest—"

"Oluo."

Levi didn't so much as glance at Hange, his tone making it very clear this wasn't a request. Oluo froze mid-smirk, his face dropping like a stone.

"What? Wait—why me?" Oluo sputtered, jabbing a finger at Eld. "Why not Farlan or Isabel? It's only fair!"

Isabel, already halfway to dragging him into the ring, beamed. "Because it's your turn to shine, Oluo!"

"I don't need to shine!" Oluo hissed, digging his heels into the ground like a cat being shoved into water. "I'm fine in the shadows!"

"Less complaining, more sparring," Levi deadpanned, his gray eyes narrowing. "You can take your beating or clean the bathrooms tonight. Your choice."

Oluo shot an accusatory glare at Levi. "You enjoy this, don't you?"

Levi's blank stare didn't waver. "Immensely."

The crowd snickered as Isabel gave Oluo a final shove into the ring. He stumbled forward, straightened his posture with as much dignity as he could muster, and adjusted his cravat. "Fine. But don't think for a second I'm going easy on you, Mikasa!"

Mikasa tilted her head, rolling her shoulders with quiet confidence. "You'd better not."

From the sidelines, Eld called out, "Make it quick, Mikasa. I want front-row seats for his excuses."

Oluo shot Eld a glare. "At least I didn't lose in under a minute, you gasping fish!"

"Let's see if you last longer," Mikasa said coolly, already moving into a ready stance.

The recruits leaned forward, the tension rising as Oluo gripped his wooden sword. "Alright," he muttered to himself, bouncing on the balls of his feet. "Precision. Control. You can do this—"

"Begin."

Levi's signal had barely left his lips before Mikasa struck.

Oluo let out an undignified yelp as he scrambled to block her opening blow. The force sent him skidding backward, his heels digging furrows into the dirt. "You call that a warm-up?!" he barked, though his voice cracked slightly.

"Should I slow down?" Mikasa asked innocently, already moving in again.

"Absolutely not!" Oluo shouted, dodging left just in time to avoid a second strike. His wooden sword clashed awkwardly against hers, the impact vibrating up his arms. "I can handle it! I'm—"

Mikasa didn't let him finish. She spun behind him, her movements fluid and relentless. Oluo whirled, attempting to parry, but Mikasa's blade tapped the back of his knee, knocking him off balance.

"—just getting warmed up!" Oluo gasped as he stumbled forward, narrowly avoiding face-planting into the dirt.

The recruits howled with laughter. Connie clapped his hands. "Oluo, you've got moves I've never seen before!"

"Yeah!" Sasha called, wiping tears from her eyes. "Like falling with style!"

"Stay out of this!" Oluo barked, red-faced, as he steadied himself. "I've got her right where I want her!"

From the corner, Levi stood with arms crossed. A rare flicker of pride crossed his usually stoic face as she outmaneuvered Oluo with precision. He didn't say anything, but the faintest twitch of a smirk betrayed his thoughts.

Hange sidled up to him with a mischievous grin, noticing his expression. "Aww, Levi," she whispered in a singsong voice. "Is that... pride I see? I didn't know you had it in you."

"Shut up, Hange," Levi muttered, but his gaze didn't waver from Mikasa.

Hange tilted her head, her grin widening. "You're like a dad watching their kid win a school competition. Should I grab tissues for those invisible tears?"

"Tch. She's doing what she's supposed to do," Levi replied, though his tone lacked its usual bite.

"Uh-huh." Hange crossed her arms, leaning closer. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you're playing favorites. I mean, I didn't see you making that face when Oluo tried to spar Mike and ended up eating dirt."

Levi shot her a glare. "That's because watching Oluo is like watching a drunk pigeon fight a window."

Mikasa raised an eyebrow, waiting patiently as Oluo flailed back into position. "Are you sure?"

"Of course!" Oluo straightened his cravat unnecessarily. "I'm merely pacing myself."

"Is that what we're calling it now?" Eld drawled, earning another round of snickers.

Oluo growled under his breath and charged, putting all his weight behind his swing. Mikasa sidestepped effortlessly, her sword snapping up to land a clean tap on his ribs. Oluo stumbled, letting out a wheeze that might've been mistaken for the death throes of a pigeon.

"Point," Mikasa said blandly.

Jean, shaking his head, muttered, "I think I'm getting secondhand embarrassment."

Eren, watching intently, winced as Oluo tried—unsuccessfully—to spin his sword like some kind of showman. "He's just making it worse."

"Watch and learn!" Oluo shouted, turning to face Mikasa again. "This next move—"

He didn't get a chance to finish. Mikasa darted in, her blade striking with precision—first his wrist, then his shoulder, and finally a light tap to his back. Oluo froze mid-swing, blinking in disbelief.

Mikasa lowered her sword with a smug look. "You did ask me to go easy," she said lightly, brushing an imaginary speck of dust off her shoulder.

Levi's smirk deepened. Hange elbowed him playfully. "Yep, definitely a proud dad moment. Should I frame this?"

"Keep talking, and I'll frame you in the Titan experiments," Levi shot back.

Meanwhile, Oluo was between gasps. "I meant go easy on my pride, too."

"Match over," Levi said flatly.

The recruits erupted again, the noise deafening as Oluo dropped his sword with an indignant squawk. "She—I—I slipped!" he stammered, turning to Levi. "Captain! That doesn't count!"

"Counts," Levi replied simply, already turning away. "You lost."

Oluo stared at him, aghast. "But—"

"Don't trip on your way out," Levi added, not even glancing back.

The recruits howled, collapsing in laughter as Oluo stormed out of the ring, muttering darkly about "disrespectful kids" and "rigged matches."

Isabel skipped after him, grinning ear to ear. "Good job, Oluo! You really showed her... the back of your head!"

"Shut up, Isabel!" Oluo barked, tugging at his cravat as the recruits burst into fresh laughter.

Mikasa, meanwhile, stood calm and collected, her sword balanced lightly in her grip. Levi's gaze lingered on her for a moment longer before he turned to the group.

"Next," he said, his voice cutting through the noise.

The crowd quieted instantly, the recruits suddenly remembering how much they valued their lives.

Jean leaned toward Connie and whispered, "If he calls me, just tell my mom I love her."

From the sidelines, Levi's voice rang out again. "Jean, stop hiding."

Jean groaned loudly as the recruits cheered and shoved him toward the ring.

****************************

Sasha spun her wooden sword with a flair that screamed wildly overconfident. "Alright, Nanaba, just so you know—I've got lightning-fast reflexes."

Nanaba tilted her head, calm and amused. "Is that so? Is that how you dodged dish duty last week?"

Sasha froze mid-spin, jaw dropping. "That was a miscommunication! I was conducting... uh, potato research! Very important."

"Groundbreaking, I'm sure." Nanaba smiled, stepping into her stance. "All that peeling must've really sharpened your combat skills."

"It has!" Sasha huffed, crouching dramatically. "Prepare yourself—this is gonna be legendary."

Levi, observing from the sidelines, muttered, "Legendary disaster, maybe."

The match began, and Sasha charged like a freight train with no brakes. She swung her sword in a wild arc, missing Nanaba entirely as the older soldier simply sidestepped with minimal effort. Sasha spun awkwardly, momentum carrying her off balance.

"Careful," Nanaba said lightly, almost teasing. "You'll tire yourself out before I lift my sword."

"I'm warming up!" Sasha insisted, fumbling back into a stance that looked less ready and more confused.

"Are you?" Nanaba replied with a faint smirk. "Because it looks like you're cooling down pretty quickly."

Her feint—if you could call it that—was so exaggerated it gave Nanaba more than enough time to sidestep and disarm her with a neat flick of her wrist. Sasha's sword spun dramatically into the dirt, landing in front of Jean, who bent over to pick it up, shaking his head.

"Here lies Sasha's sword," Jean announced mockingly. "Cause of death: overconfidence."

"Stop giving eulogies for my sword!" Sasha groaned, slumping onto the ground as Nanaba lightly tapped her on the head.

"Point. Again," Nanaba said, a faint smile tugging at her lips.

Lying flat on her back now, Sasha threw an arm over her face. "I should've sparred Moblit. He'd probably apologize after hitting me."

"Hey!" Moblit yelled weakly from across the field, still being harassed by Ymir. "You're not wrong, though!"

****************************

Keiji stood across from Connie, his towering frame casting an intimidating shadow over the smaller recruit. Connie squinted up at him, his wooden sword wobbling slightly in his grip. "Hey, Keiji," Connie said, tilting his head, "you think you could fight a little... shorter?"

Keiji blinked, genuinely baffled. "What does that even mean?"

"I don't know!" Connie exclaimed, throwing his free hand into the air in mock frustration. "But it feels like I'm about to fight a lamppost."

The onlookers erupted into laughter, with Ymir calling out, "Don't forget to hug him after, Connie—he's your emotional support lamppost!"

Keiji sighed, already regretting agreeing to this match. "Fine. If it'll help your tiny ego, I'll crouch." He bent slightly, leveling himself a bit closer to Connie's height. It was barely noticeable.

Connie's eyes lit up like he'd just been handed a winning lottery ticket. "Oh, now we're talking!" He darted forward and smacked Keiji's shin with the flat of his wooden sword.

Keiji didn't even flinch. He just blinked, staring down at the point of impact. "Seriously?"

"Damn," Connie muttered, hopping back quickly. "What are you made of? Titan armor?"

"Connie, you're gonna need a ladder for this fight!" someone yelled.

Connie scowled, rolling his shoulders as if preparing for a second attempt. "Alright, alright, round two. You won't see this one coming."

Keiji raised an eyebrow. "Is it more shin abuse? Because if so, you might want to aim a little higher."

"Nope!" Connie said, grinning like a kid who'd just thought of the most brilliant plan ever. He dashed forward, and instead of swinging his sword, he ducked between Keiji's legs, tapping him lightly on the back with the flat of his blade as he slid through.

"Ha! Point for me!" Connie declared triumphantly, spinning around to face the crowd. "Bet none of you thought of that, huh?"

Keiji turned slowly, unimpressed. "Bold strategy. Too bad I'm still standing."

Connie puffed out his chest. "Yeah, but I tagged you! That counts as a win, right?"

"Nope," Levi called out from the sidelines, his expression deadpan. "If it were real, you'd be Titan food by now."

Keiji smirked and crouched down, holding his wooden sword like a baseball bat. "Alright, my turn."

Connie's grin faltered. "Wait, wait, wait! Let's talk about this—"

Connie scrambled to dodge but tripped over his own feet, landing in an ungraceful heap. Keiji stood over him, lightly tapping Connie's forehead with his sword. "And that's checkmate."

****************************

The training grounds buzzed with activity as Armin stood in the center of the ring, looking like he'd much rather disappear into thin air. Across from him, Farlan spun his wooden sword lazily, a calm smile on his face that somehow managed to be both reassuring and utterly terrifying.

"Alright, Armin," Farlan called, his voice light with amusement. "Let's just have some fun with this."

Armin swallowed hard, his hands white-knuckling his sword. "Define... fun?"

"Fun for me," Farlan said, his grin widening. "Character-building for you."

From the sidelines, Connie cupped his hands around his mouth. "Don't overthink it, Armin! Just swing wildly and pray for a miracle!"

"I'd listen to him," Sasha chimed in, munching on something. "That's how I handle food fights—and I haven't lost yet."

"Because no one fights back," Jean muttered.

Farlan's relaxed stance didn't falter as Armin lunged forward with what could generously be called "courage." He swung his sword with all the precision of someone waving at a distant friend. Farlan sidestepped effortlessly, tapping Armin on the shoulder with the flat of his blade.

"Point," Farlan said cheerfully.

Armin froze mid-motion, his face flushing. "Wait, already? I didn't even finish my swing!"

"Precision over panic, Armin," Farlan replied, smiling like a teacher encouraging a particularly unathletic student. "Let's try that again."

"You've got this, Armin!" Sasha shouted through a mouthful of bread. "Remember—bread strategy!"

"What does that even mean?!" Armin shot back, exasperated.

"It means don't crumble under pressure!" Sasha declared triumphantly, raising her snack like a war banner.

Farlan chuckled, giving Armin a small nod. "Focus on me, not them. Breathe, think, then swing."

Taking the advice to heart, Armin steadied his grip and lunged again—this time more controlled. Farlan blocked the strike with ease but offered an approving nod. "Better. Now keep that up."

"You are doing great Armin. Just stay calm and time his movements!" Mikasa called encouragingly, though her tone held just enough steel to make her sound like a coach issuing orders.

Levi, standing nearby with arms crossed, raised an eyebrow. "Great? His sword looks like it's auditioning for a role as a windmill."

"Not everyone's you, Captain," Mikasa shot back, unfazed.

"Clearly," Levi deadpanned.

From the sidelines, Isabel burst out laughing. "Big bro, you're brutal! Poor Armin's trying his best!"

Levi glanced at her with mock seriousness. "His best just isn't enough to beat Farlan. I'm surprised he's still upright."

Armin shot Levi an exasperated glare. "I can hear you, Captain."

Levi shrugged. "Then swing harder."

Back in the ring, Armin finally managed to parry one of Farlan's strikes, the resounding clack of wood-on-wood drawing cheers from the crowd. Farlan stepped back with a raised eyebrow. "There we go. See? Told you there was potential."

Armin smiled hesitantly, still on edge. "Really?"

"Yeah. You might even hit me before lunch next time."

Armin slumped forward, groaning. "I'm never sparring again."

Farlan patted his shoulder with a grin. "You'll get there. Just... maybe don't listen to Connie for advice."

Levi watched Armin walk off, shaking his head with faint exasperation. "Pathetic."

Mikasa's glare turned icy. "He did well. Not everyone can fight perfectly everyday."

Levi's lips twitched. "If that's what 'well' looks like, I'd hate to see what failure looks like."

Isabel leaned closer, grinning at Levi. "You're really on a roll today, big bro. Should I bring you a medal?"

"I'm good," Levi replied dryly. "Watching this is its own reward."

Mikasa muttered something under her breath, shooting Levi a final pointed look before following Armin off the field. Isabel just grinned wider, throwing her arm behind her head. "Man, this is better than a show. Can we spar next, big bro?"

"No," Levi said immediately, already turning away.

"Oh, come on!" Isabel shouted after him, her voice carrying above the lingering laughter of the recruits. "Are you afraid I'll embarrass you in front of everyone?"

Levi didn't even look back. "Only afraid of you wasting my time."

"One day you'll regret that!"

Levi raised a hand in a lazy wave as he walked away, his tone as flat as ever. "Still waiting."

****************************

Moblit stepped into the sparring ring like a man walking to his doom, his wooden sword gripped far too tightly. Across from him, Ymir leaned casually on her weapon, her trademark smirk practically radiating mischief.

"Don't look so scared, Moblit," Ymir teased, twirling her sword lazily. "I'll go easy on you. Hange would cry if I broke her favorite lackey."

"I'm not a lackey," Moblit muttered, adjusting his stance with the awkward resolve of someone who knew he was about to lose. "I'm an assistant."

"Assistant, lackey, emotional support human," Ymir listed off on her fingers. "It's all the same."

The fight began with Moblit launching forward, swinging with surprising speed. Ymir blinked, arching an eyebrow as she sidestepped easily. "Whoa, careful there. Almost felt a breeze."

Moblit gritted his teeth and tried again, this time managing to avoid immediate embarrassment. He parried a light strike from Ymir—barely—and looked momentarily triumphant.

"Oh-ho!" Ymir crowed, circling him like a cat playing with a mouse. "You've been holding out on us, Moblit! Hange secretly training you in Titan combat?"

"Not everything revolves around Titans!" Moblit snapped, lunging again.

It was a solid effort—by Moblit's standards—but Ymir ducked effortlessly, ruffling his hair as she passed. "Nice try, champ. Ever consider a career in interpretive dance?"

"Hange!" Moblit shouted toward the sidelines, desperate. "Why am I even doing this?"

"Field experience!" Hange yelled back, grinning like a mad scientist observing a new experiment. "Think of it as research in kinetic failure!"

"Try screaming—it works for Eren!" Connie called, unhelpfully.

Ymir snorted and feinted left, then tapped Moblit lightly on the back with her sword. "Point."

Hange was at the edge of the ring in seconds, clapping Moblit hard on the back. "That's the spirit! Tactical thinking! You lasted way longer than I thought."

Moblit shot her a flat look, still catching his breath. "Glad to exceed your very high expectations."

Ymir stretched with a grin, tossing her sword over her shoulder. "Don't worry, Moblit. You've got potential. Somewhere. Buried deep. Probably under a pile of paperwork."

****************************

The sparring grounds buzzed with activity as matches played out one after another, the sounds of clashing swords and occasional laughter filling the air. Mikasa stood at the edge of the ring, watching Isabel spar against a wiry recruit, Raiden who was known for his agility and cunning in combat from another squad. Isabel's movements were quick and reckless, her fiery personality shining through in every daring strike she made.

"Careful, Isabel," Farlan called from the sidelines, though his tone was more amused than concerned. "Remember what I said about leaving your openings wide."

"I've got this!" Isabel shot back, grinning as she lunged forward with wild enthusiasm. Her opponent sidestepped her attack easily, spinning and catching her off guard with a swift counterstrike.

The wooden sword caught Isabel square on the jaw, and she stumbled back, landing hard on the ground. A collective gasp rippled through the crowd as blood trickled from the corner of her mouth, stark against her pale skin. Isabel touched her lip and winced, her grin faltering. "Ah, damn. That stings," she muttered.

Mikasa's breath hitched as she stepped toward Isabel, her hand trembling slightly. She reached out, brushing her fingers lightly against the blood smeared on Isabel's face. Her eyes locked onto the crimson streak now staining her fingertips, and for a moment, she froze, the world around her fading into silence. Isabel blinked, startled by the unexpected gesture, her expression shifting from confusion to unease. Memories she had buried deep suddenly clawed their way to the surface.

She was back in that cabin, the chilling screams of her mother and little sister ringing in her ears. The metallic scent of blood filled the air as the human traffickers stood over her father's and sister's lifeless body. Her mother's desperate cries. The rage.

Her grip on the wooden sword tightened, her knuckles turning white.

It wasn't Isabel she saw anymore. It was her little sister, lying lifeless on the ground, her lips stained with blood, her eyes wide and unseeing. The scent of iron filled Mikasa's mind, the screams of her mother echoing faintly in her ears.

She froze, her body tensing as the memory overwhelmed her. The sparring grounds seemed to dissolve around her, replaced by that cabin in the woods, the cold floor beneath her knees, the shadow of the traffickers towering over her.

"Mikasa?" Isabel's voice was distant, barely cutting through the haze. She climbed to her feet, wiping the blood from her mouth. "Hey, I'm fine! It's no big deal."

But Mikasa didn't hear her. She didn't respond. Her eyes, once focused and sharp, were now blank—cold, deadpan, and terrifyingly void of emotion. Her body moved on instinct, a predator locking onto prey. Her chest tightened, her vision narrowing as her gaze locked on Isabel's opponent—the one who had struck her. Her wooden sword dropped to her side as she stepped into the ring, her movements slow and deliberate.

"Mikasa—" Levi's voice cut through the air, sharp and commanding. But it was too late.

She lunged at the recruit with terrifying speed, her strikes feral and unrelenting. The crowd went silent, the playful atmosphere vanishing as Mikasa's demeanor shifted into something dark and dangerous. Her blows weren't sparring strikes; they were calculated to incapacitate, to inflict pain.

Her opponent stumbled back, barely managing to block her attacks. "Whoa, hold on—what are you doing?" he shouted, panic creeping into his voice.

Eren and Armin exchanged worried glances from the sidelines. They had seen this before—the same cold, detached fury that had consumed Mikasa the day her family was slaughtered.

"She's losing it," Armin whispered, his voice taut with fear.

"Yeah," Eren muttered, clenching his fists. "We've got to do something, or she's going to—"

Mikasa's opponent cried out as she disarmed him with a brutal strike, sending his sword flying. He fell to the ground under her relentless assault, scrambling backward as she advanced on him, her wooden blade raised high. The deadpan expression on her face made it clear—this wasn't a fight anymore. She saw him as a threat, and she intended to kill.

"Mikasa! That's enough!" someone shouted, but she didn't hear them.

She spun, her sword aimed for his head in a final, devastating blow. The air crackled with tension as the wooden blade arced toward him.

"Stop!" Levi's voice cut through the stillness like a whip.

He moved faster than anyone could register, his hand shooting out to catch Mikasa's wrist mid-swing. The force of her attack sent a jolt up his arm, but he held firm. Her strength was staggering—unnatural—but his grip didn't waver. Mikasa turned her head toward him, her blank, emotionless eyes locking onto his.

Mikasa's blank gaze met Levi's, her expression eerily calm despite the raw violence she had just unleashed. "Ackerman," Levi said, his tone low and steady, though there was a flicker of something rare in his eyes: concern. "Snap out of it."

For a moment, Mikasa didn't move, her body rigid as her mind fought to reconcile the present with the past. Then, slowly, the haze lifted. She blinked, her grip on the sword loosening as her gaze shifted from Levi to the frightened recruit on the ground, his sword shattered, his face pale.

Mikasa glanced at Levi, then at her wrist still caught in his grip. "What...?" she murmured, her voice shaky. Her gaze fell to the blood on her fingers, and confusion crept into her features. "Why is everyone staring?"

Levi released her wrist, stepping back slightly but keeping his gaze locked on hers. "You tell me," he said, his voice quieter now but no less firm.

Isabel, for once, was silent, her usual grin replaced by a look of wide-eyed shock. The atmosphere was suffocating, the weight of what had just happened hanging over everyone.

Mikasa took a shaky breath, her fingers loosening their grip on the sword. It fell to the ground with a dull thud. She glanced at the recruit on the ground, then at Levi, her chest tightening as the reality of what she had done began to sink in.

Mikasa's gaze flicked to Isabel, who gave her a tentative smile despite the blood staining her lips. "I'm okay, really. You didn't have to go full murder-mode for me."

"I didn't mean to," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "I—"

"Pull yourself together," Levi cut her off, his expression unreadable. "You're not in the Underground anymore. Start acting like it."

The intensity of his words grounded her, pulling her back to the present. She nodded, swallowing hard as she took a step back, the cold stares of the onlookers cutting through her like knives.

Hange approached, her usual playful demeanor replaced with quiet concern. "You okay, Mikasa?" she asked softly.

Mikasa nodded again, though she didn't trust herself to speak. She turned and walked away, the murmurs of the crowd following her like a shadow.

****************************

From a distance, Mikasa stopped at the edge of the grounds, her chest heaving as she tried to steady her breath. Her hand instinctively rose to touch her temple, her fingertips brushing over the cool dampness of sweat and something colder—fear. Her eyes caught her reflection in the polished blade of a nearby training sword, its surface worn but still enough to show her image.

What stared back at her wasn't the strong, controlled soldier she prided herself on being. Her expression was hollow, her gaze empty, as though all the light had drained from her. She swallowed hard, a tremor running through her fingers as she reached toward the reflection, almost as if trying to understand it.

For the first time in years, Mikasa felt afraid—not of the Titans, not of the chaos surrounding her, but of herself.

Unbeknownst to her, a hooded figure stood in the shadows at the far edge of the grounds. Their stance was casual, almost too casual, as they leaned slightly against the trunk of a tree. The figure's head tilted, seemingly observing Mikasa with keen interest. Hidden beneath the shadow of their hood, their gaze flicked to her trembling hands, her hollow expression, and then back toward the uneasy crowd.

When Mikasa began to move, walking slowly, the figure shifted, blending into the treeline without a sound. Their presence went unnoticed by everyone, their departure as quiet and deliberate as their arrival. Whatever their purpose, they had seen enough.

Back on the training grounds, silence hung thick in the air. Recruits shifted uncomfortably, their earlier boisterousness drained by what they had just witnessed.

Hange was the first to break the spell. She clapped her hands loudly, her usual playful tone absent. "Alright, everyone! Back to sparring! Let's keep things moving!" Her voice carried across the grounds, pulling attention back to the present.

Nanaba and Gelgar stepped forward, quickly helping to restore order among their squads. Farlan motioned to the recruits to resume their positions, though his sharp gaze lingered on the direction Mikasa had gone. Levi stood silent, his arms crossed, his expression unreadable as he watched the recruits slowly return to their drills.

But among the 104th Cadet Corps, the tension was palpable.

Eren glanced at Armin, his voice low but urgent. "Did you see her face? That wasn't Mikasa."

Armin nodded, his brow furrowed deeply. "I've seen her like that before, Eren. You have too—back then." His words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of shared memory.

"We have to talk to her," Eren said, determination hardening his voice. "Something's wrong."

Nearby, Sasha fidgeted, her usual carefree demeanor replaced with visible concern. She wrung her hands together, her voice small as she said, "Do you think she's okay? Should we... I don't know, check on her or something?"

Connie, for once, didn't have a joke ready. He just shrugged helplessly. "I mean, I don't think she wants to talk to anyone right now. Did you see the way she just... snapped?"

Jean crossed his arms, his expression unusually serious. "That was terrifying. She wasn't even herself. It was like she was possessed or something."

The rest of the recruits exchanged uneasy glances. Krista clung to Ymir's arm, her wide eyes darting between the others. "Do you think she's hurt? She didn't even check herself before walking away."

"I think she's dealing with something deeper," Ymir muttered, her sharp gaze fixed in the direction Mikasa had gone. "And we're not the ones who can fix it."

Levi's gaze lingered on the spot where Mikasa had disappeared. His arms remained crossed, but his mind was anything but still. He had seen it too—that lifeless look in her eyes, the blank expression that spoke of something darker than just rage.

Hange sidled up to him, her usual playful grin replaced with a rare seriousness. "What do you think that was?" she asked softly, her voice carrying only to him.

Levi's jaw tightened, his gray eyes narrowing. "Something that shouldn't happen again." His voice was cold, but his concern was evident in the tension radiating from his posture.

Hange tilted her head, studying him. "Do you think she's a danger?"

"To herself, maybe," Levi replied after a moment, his tone clipped. He pushed off from where he stood, his sharp gaze sweeping over the recruits. "Get them back to work. We'll deal with this later."

Hange nodded, stepping away to rally the troops. But Levi's thoughts lingered on Mikasa, on the blankness in her eyes, and on the unspoken question that weighed heavy in his chest: How close had she come to losing herself entirely?

Levi remained rooted to the spot, his eyes still lingering on the path Mikasa had taken. The air around him seemed heavier, his thoughts swirling in a storm he refused to let show. Just as he turned to walk away, two familiar figures came barreling toward him—Eren and Armin, their faces etched with worry.

"Captain Levi!" Eren called out, skidding to a stop just in front of him. "Mikasa didn't mean to—she would never—"

Levi held up a hand, cutting him off. "Calm down, Jaeger. You're about to trip over your own tongue."

Eren huffed but nodded, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. Armin stepped forward, his usual calm demeanor fraying at the edges. "Captain, what happened today... it's not who Mikasa is. She's not dangerous. This has only happened once before, and she's learned to control it."

Levi's sharp gaze flicked to Armin. "Once before?"

Armin hesitated, glancing at Eren, who nodded grimly. "When we were kids," Armin admitted. "Back in the Underground. It was... bad. But after that, she's always kept her composure. She's strong. She can handle herself."

Eren jumped in, his voice earnest and forceful. "She's not a threat, Captain. She just—she lost control because of what happened with Isabel. It triggered something. But Mikasa wouldn't hurt someone like that on purpose."

Levi's expression didn't change, his face as unreadable as ever, but his eyes flickered briefly with something softer, almost imperceptible. He shifted his weight, letting out a faint tsk. "I'm not putting her in the stocks, if that's what you're worried about."

Eren blinked, surprised. "You're not?"

"No," Levi said, his voice dry and laced with sarcasm. "What do you think I am, heartless? Don't answer that." He crossed his arms, his sharp gaze cutting between the two of them. "She'll be fine. I'll handle it."

Armin let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding, his shoulders sagging slightly. "Thank you, Captain."

Levi's eyes narrowed. "Don't thank me. This doesn't mean it's not serious. If it happens again, she could get someone killed—or herself."

Eren opened his mouth to protest but closed it when Levi's glare pinned him in place. "Jaeger, quit looking at me like I'm the enemy. Nothing will happen to her. Understand?"

Eren and Armin exchanged a glance before nodding in unison. Levi gave a faint tsk and turned on his heel, his sharp steps echoing against the ground as he walked away.

But even as he left, his mind lingered on Mikasa, on the blankness in her eyes and the weight she carried. He didn't say it aloud, but he had already decided—he wouldn't let it happen again. Whatever it took.

****************************

The heavy oak door to Erwin's office creaked open, revealing Levi's sharp figure silhouetted against the light from the hallway. The room was quiet, save for the faint scratch of Erwin's pen against paper. He didn't look up immediately, finishing his note with deliberate precision before setting the pen down. His piercing blue eyes met Levi's, their intensity unyielding.

"Levi," Erwin greeted, his voice calm but laced with authority. "I trust you know why I asked you here."

Levi's sharp eyes flicked up, locking onto Erwin's unyielding gaze. "You called me here to talk about Ackerman."

Erwin nodded slowly, lacing his fingers together on the desk. "You're aware of what happened earlier during sparring. It's caused quite a stir among the squad leaders—and the recruits."

Levi tsked, his jaw tightening. "It was sparring. These things happen."

Erwin raised an eyebrow. "It wasn't just sparring, Levi. She lunged at her opponent with the intent to kill. Every squad leader and cadet who witnessed it saw as much."

Levi's tone turned sharp. "It was a moment. A mistake. She wasn't thinking clearly."

"And yet," Erwin countered evenly, "the intent was there. That cannot go unchecked, no matter her record or circumstances. Discipline must be maintained, or we risk setting a precedent."

Levi's fists clenched at his sides. "What precedent? That soldiers aren't allowed to make mistakes when their instincts take over? She didn't mean to do it."

Erwin leaned forward slightly, his piercing blue eyes narrowing. "It's not about whether she meant it, Levi. It's about how it was perceived. If I let this go without any consequences, the recruits—and even the squad leaders—might think this behavior is acceptable."

Levi stepped closer to the desk, his voice lowering dangerously. "You think throwing her in a basement cell for the day is going to fix anything? She's one of our best soldiers, Erwin. Punishing her for something out of her control is a waste of time."

Erwin studied Levi carefully, his expression unreadable. "You're unusually defensive about this. Why?"

Levi's eyes narrowed, his lips pressing into a thin line. "I defend what's fair. Mikasa didn't mean any harm, and we both know it."

Erwin narrowed his eyes as "Mikasa" slipped from Levi's tongue instead of "Ackerman."

"Even so," Erwin said, his voice firm, "she acted recklessly. If we let it slide, what message does that send to the others?"

Levi's glare could have cut through steel, but he didn't respond immediately. Erwin pressed on. "One day. She spends one day and night in the basement cell. It's a measured response, not excessive."

Levi tsked, turning his gaze toward the window for a moment before reluctantly nodding. "Fine. One day."

Erwin nodded, satisfied. "Petra will bring her in shortly."

The office door creaked open, and Petra stepped in with Mikasa behind her. Levi's sharp eyes immediately noted Mikasa's demeanor—her head slightly bowed, her shoulders rigid but lacking the quiet pride she usually carried. She was silent, her expression unreadable but distant.

Erwin's gaze fell on her, steady and authoritative. "Mikasa Ackerman," he began, his tone measured, "your actions during sparring were inappropriate. While I understand that emotions can cloud judgment, lunging at an unarmed opponent with such intent cannot be ignored."

Mikasa didn't look up, her hands clasped tightly in front of her. She stood still as a statue, offering no argument or defense.

"You will spend the rest of the day and night in the basement cell as punishment," Erwin continued, his voice firm but not unkind. "This is not to demean your abilities or diminish your value as a soldier. It's to maintain discipline and order."

Mikasa nodded once, her voice barely above a whisper. "Understood, Commander."

Erwin's eyes lingered on her for a moment before nodding to Petra. "Take her."

Petra stepped forward, placing a hand gently on Mikasa's arm. "Let's go."

Mikasa didn't resist, but before Petra could guide her toward the door, Levi's voice cut through the silence, sharp and commanding. "I'll take her."

Petra blinked, surprised, her hand falling away from Mikasa's arm. She glanced at Levi, her brows furrowing slightly. "Captain, are you sure—"

"I said I'll take her," Levi repeated, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Petra hesitated for a moment before nodding. "Understood." She stepped back, giving Mikasa a brief, sympathetic glance before exiting the office quietly, leaving the tension in the room palpable.

Levi turned to Mikasa, his expression unreadable as he gestured toward the door. "Come on."

Mikasa followed silently, her steps measured and subdued. Levi moved to hold the door open for her, allowing her to exit first. As he stepped to leave, Erwin's voice halted him in his tracks.

"Levi," Erwin said, his tone softer now but carrying a weight that lingered in the air. "I trust your judgment. But don't let your personal feelings cloud it."

Levi froze for a fraction of a second, his hand still on the doorframe. Without turning back, he pushed the door open fully, the faint creak of the hinges cutting through the heavy silence. He stepped into the corridor, his expression cold and guarded as the door clicked shut behind him, leaving Erwin to his thoughts in the quiet of his office.

****************************

The corridor leading to the basement stretched out before them, dimly lit by the flickering glow of oil lanterns mounted on the walls. The air was thick with tension, and the sound of their footsteps echoed in the otherwise quiet hallway. Mikasa's usual poised stride seemed slower, almost subdued, as she walked a step behind Levi. He kept his gaze forward, his hands tucked into his pockets, the weight of unspoken words hanging heavily between them.

As they passed groups of soldiers milling about the barracks, hushed whispers rippled through the air.

"Is that Mikasa?" one recruit murmured, their voice barely audible but sharp enough to cut through the silence.

"Yeah. Heard she went berserk during sparring," another replied.

"Reckless, wasn't it? Never thought she'd snap like that."

"She's Levi's protégé, isn't she? Guess the Captain's been rubbing off on her."

Levi's sharp ears caught every word, his jaw tightening ever so slightly. His expression remained unreadable, but Mikasa's hands balled into fists at her sides. She didn't look up, her gaze fixed on the ground ahead, but the faint color rising to her cheeks betrayed her discomfort.

From a corner of the hallway, Sasha and Connie exchanged worried glances as they watched Mikasa and Levi pass.

"Do you think she's okay?" Sasha whispered, her brows furrowed.

Connie shrugged, his usual grin absent. "I don't know. She didn't look like herself out there."

Further down the hall, Nanaba and Gelgar paused mid-conversation, their eyes following Levi and Mikasa as they disappeared into the shadows.

"What's Levi going to do with her?" Nanaba asked softly.

"Whatever it is, it'll be thorough," Gelgar replied, his tone grim. "He doesn't go easy on anyone, not even his favorites."

The murmurs followed them like an invisible shadow, but Levi paid them no mind. Mikasa, however, felt every word like a weight pressing down on her shoulders. She kept her gaze steady, refusing to let the whispers affect her outward composure, though her chest tightened with every step.

The heavy door to the basement creaked open as Levi pushed it aside, the sound reverberating through the stillness. Mikasa stepped in after him, her eyes adjusting to the dim light. The basement was cold and unwelcoming, its stone walls lined with empty cells. The faint smell of dampness lingered in the air, adding to the oppressive atmosphere.

Levi glanced around, his sharp eyes taking in the scene. The space was utterly deserted, with no guards stationed and no prisoners occupying the cells. The silence was almost deafening, broken only by the faint drip of water from a distant pipe.

He stopped in front of one of the cells, his hand resting lightly on the iron bars. The rusted lock hung loosely, unused for what seemed like years. He glanced at Mikasa, his expression unreadable, before pulling the door open with a groan of metal.

"Here we are," he said, his tone clipped.

Levi's eyes lingered on her for a moment, and he sighed softly, running a hand through his hair. His usual sharpness was still there, but something else flickered beneath it—an unspoken conflict.

"The cell's empty," he said, almost to himself. "No guards, no one watching. Makes you wonder if this is even necessary."

Mikasa didn't respond, her gaze fixed on the ground.

Levi frowned, his fingers curling into a fist at his side. "You don't have to look like you're walking to the gallows, you know," he said dryly. "It's one night. You'll survive."

Mikasa finally looked up, her dark eyes meeting his. "I know."

Levi let out a soft "tch," turning his attention back to the cell. He reached for the door but hesitated, his hand hovering over the lock. For a long moment, he stood there, as if weighing his options.

The cell door creaked as Levi pulled it open, the rusty hinges groaning against the oppressive quiet of the basement. The sound echoed faintly, amplified by the cold, empty stone walls. Without speaking, Levi stepped aside, nodding for Mikasa to enter. She hesitated, her gaze drifting toward the dark interior of the cell, her expression unreadable but her posture rigid.

After a beat, she stepped inside, her boots making dull thuds against the stone floor. The cot at the center of the cell looked as uninviting as the room itself—a thin mattress stretched tightly over a steel frame, the kind of bed that mocked the idea of rest. Mikasa sat down stiffly, her movements slow and deliberate. Her hands rested on her knees, fingers curling slightly as though bracing herself against the weight of her thoughts.

Levi stood at the door, one hand resting lightly on the iron bars. His gaze lingered on the lock for a moment. The key in his hand felt heavier than it should have, its cold metal biting into his palm. He could easily lock her in, follow orders without question, and leave. That would be the simplest option. But Levi never cared much for simplicity.

He exhaled through his nose, shoving the key into his pocket as his hand fell from the lock. Instead, he leaned against the wall beside the open door, crossing his arms. The cell door remained ajar, a deliberate choice. The gesture was subtle, but it carried weight.

Mikasa noticed immediately. Her sharp eyes flicked to the unlocked door and back to Levi. "You should lock it," she said softly, her voice steady but carrying an undercurrent of weariness.

Levi tsked, his narrowed gaze meeting hers with familiar sharpness. "I'll lock it if I feel like it," he said, his tone clipped but not unkind. "And right now, I don't."

Mikasa's brow furrowed slightly, her lips pressing into a thin line. "You'll get in trouble for that."

A faint smirk ghosted across Levi's face, fleeting but unmistakable. "As if anyone could get me in trouble," he replied, the dry humor in his voice a small crack in his otherwise stoic demeanor. "What's Erwin gonna do? Lecture me? Again?"

The corner of Mikasa's mouth twitched, almost imperceptibly. It wasn't much, but it was enough for Levi to notice. He didn't comment, though, and the small moment of levity dissolved into silence.

The quiet stretched between them, heavy and unspoken. Levi's sharp eyes stayed on her, watching the faint tremble of her fingers against her knees, the subtle tightening of her jaw. He didn't push, didn't fill the space with empty words. He just waited, his presence steady and grounding.

Finally, Mikasa broke the silence. "It wasn't Isabel," she murmured, her voice low but clear.

Levi's brows furrowed slightly, though he stayed quiet, his gaze unwavering as she continued.

Mikasa's fingers curled into her palms, her knuckles turning white. "When I saw the blood on her face... it wasn't her anymore. It was my sister." Her voice wavered, but her words remained steady, each one a deliberate step into territory she rarely ventured. "She was on the floor like that. Blood on her mouth. Her eyes... empty."

She swallowed hard, her jaw tightening as though she could will the memory away. "I don't even know if I remembered it or imagined it, but for a second, it felt like I was back there. And I—I couldn't stop."

Levi straightened slightly, his posture still casual but his gaze sharp as a blade. "You snapped," he said bluntly, his voice low but steady. The statement carried no judgment, only fact. "It happens."

Mikasa looked up at him, her expression caught between defiance and vulnerability. "It shouldn't have happened."

Levi tilted his head, his gaze drilling into her with quiet intensity. "No, it shouldn't have," he agreed. "But it did. The question is what you do with it now."

Her lips pressed into a thin line, her gaze falling to her knees. "Everyone saw. They'll think I'm... dangerous."

"You are dangerous," Levi said, his voice cutting through the air like the clash of steel. "And that's not a bad thing. But you've got to control it. The moment you lose control, you're no better than the bastards who put you in that situation in the first place."

The words struck deep, each syllable deliberate and unyielding. Mikasa flinched, the weight of her actions pressing harder against her chest. She hated herself for letting it happen, for becoming the thing she despised.

"I'll get it under control," she said firmly, her voice steady despite the turmoil inside. "I won't let it happen again."

Levi studied her for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Finally, he gave a small nod. "Good. Because next time you lose your shit, I'm not going to stop you—I'm going to knock you out."

Mikasa blinked, startled by the bluntness of his words. She looked up, catching the faintest flicker of humor in his eyes. A soft, almost imperceptible laugh escaped her lips. "Understood, Captain."

Levi smirked faintly, pushing off the wall. The cell door creaked faintly, his sharp gaze never leaving Mikasa. His stance relaxed slightly, the tension in his shoulders easing, but his eyes retained their usual sharpness. Instead of leaving, he stepped back toward the bars, surprising Mikasa when he sank to the ground with his back against them. The cold, uneven stone didn't seem to bother him as he leaned his head back against one of the bars, the faintest smirk tugging at his lips.

"I feel like spending the night outside a cell," he said dryly, his tone laced with that signature Levi sarcasm.

Mikasa blinked, clearly caught off guard by his actions. "You sure?" she asked, her voice teasing as her lips quirked up slightly. "The floor's filthy. And the bars—ugh, so dirty. Probably haven't been cleaned in years. And the ceiling-"

Levi tsked loudly, his expression unimpressed. "If you're trying to get on my nerves, you'll have to try harder, Ackerman."

Mikasa let out a soft chuckle, the sound surprisingly light in the cold, oppressive space. "Just saying," she said with mock seriousness. "It's not exactly the kind of place I'd expect you to willingly stay in."

Levi didn't respond immediately, just closing his eyes briefly as he let the silence stretch between them. Mikasa watched him for a moment, then stood from the cot and crossed the small space, sitting down on the other side of the bars. She mimicked his position, leaning her back against the bars, so they sat back-to-back, the cold metal separating them. Tilting her head slightly, she rested it backward against his, feeling the faint pressure of his presence.

Levi's voice came, low and deadpan, breaking the quiet. "Is the floor not dirty now?"

Mikasa smiled faintly, her eyes softening. "It is," she said, her voice quieter now. "But I'd rather be here." She gestured vaguely, though he couldn't see it, her meaning clear. She'd rather be near him, sharing this moment of quiet warmth in the cold emptiness of the basement.

Levi didn't respond immediately, but his presence behind her felt steady and grounding. They sat in silence for a while, the quiet between them comfortable. The occasional drip of water and the faint rustle of their clothes against the stone floor were the only sounds.

Then Levi, ever one to shatter moments with his bluntness, spoke, his voice low and teasing. "Shame we can't continue where we left off last night."

Mikasa's head snapped up, her eyes wide as she turned to glare at him over her shoulder, her cheeks instantly flushing a deep red. "What?!"

His smirk deepened, his tone as unbothered as ever. "What? You're the one turning this dingy basement into some kind of romantic getaway. Just seemed like a natural observation."

Mikasa groaned, pressing her hands to her face to hide her growing blush. "You're insufferable," she muttered, though the faint smile tugging at her lips betrayed the warmth his teasing sparked.

Levi leaned back against the bars, the faintest chuckle escaping him. "You say that like you weren't thinking the same thing."

Mikasa didn't dignify him with a response, instead letting her head rest back against the bars, her skin brushing faintly against his. Despite the teasing, despite the incessant sarcasm, there was something about his quiet, steady presence that felt like a lifeline—calming, unwavering, and just a little too easy to fall into.

****************************

The dim light of dawn filtered into the basement, casting a pale glow over the cold stone walls. Levi stirred first, his back stiff from spending the night against the iron bars. He blinked, his sharp gray eyes adjusting to the faint light, and glanced over his shoulder. There, just on the other side of the bars, Mikasa was curled up on the ground, her body tucked into itself like a child seeking warmth.

Tsking softly to himself, Levi ran a hand through his disheveled hair. "Brat," he muttered under his breath, though his tone carried no real edge. He pushed himself to his feet, brushing off the dust from his uniform. For a moment, he simply stood there, gazing down at her still form.

Her face was peaceful, the tension from the previous day melted away in her sleep. Strands of her dark hair clung to her cheek, and her hand rested loosely against the cold floor. Levi's gaze softened—an expression so fleeting it would have been easy to miss.

Quietly, he reached for the cell door. The soft creak of the hinges broke the silence, and Mikasa stirred, her brow furrowing slightly before her eyes fluttered open. She blinked a few times, disoriented, and then her gaze landed on Levi.

"Morning, sleepyhead," he said, his voice low but carrying the faintest hint of teasing. He crouched down beside her, reaching out to brush a strand of hair from her face. The gesture was uncharacteristically gentle, his calloused fingers barely grazing her skin.

Mikasa sat up slowly, rubbing her eyes. "What time is it?" she murmured, her voice thick with sleep.

"Early," Levi replied, leaning back slightly on his heels. "You looked comfortable down there, so I figured I'd let you sleep."

Mikasa gave him a pointed look, glancing at the hard stone floor beneath her. "Comfortable?"

Levi smirked faintly. "Well, you didn't seem to mind."

Before she could respond, he slipped an arm around her shoulders and the other beneath her knees, lifting her with ease. Mikasa let out a soft noise of protest, but Levi ignored it, carrying her to the cot. The thin mattress creaked under her weight as he set her down, adjusting her so she was properly seated.

"You don't have to do that," Mikasa muttered, though her voice lacked conviction.

"Too late," Levi retorted, standing up straight. He brushed off his hands, his sharp gaze meeting hers. "I need to leave before anyone notices I've been here all night. If Erwin finds out, I'll have to listen to another one of his lectures, and I'm not in the mood."

Mikasa frowned slightly. "You could just leave the door unlocked."

Levi shook his head. "Not an option. If someone checks and sees it unlocked, they'll start asking questions. I'll lock it and send someone to open it right away."

As he turned to leave, Mikasa hesitated before speaking. "Levi."

He paused, glancing over his shoulder. "What?"

"Thank you," she said softly, her eyes meeting his. There was a vulnerability in her voice that she rarely let show, and it lingered in the air between them.

Levi's expression shifted, his usual stoicism faltering for just a moment. He stepped closer, crouching back down beside her. His hand reached out, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "Don't mention it," he said quietly, his voice lower now, the sharpness softened.

Before she could say another word, Levi leaned in, his lips brushing hers in a feather-light kiss. It was brief but sincere, carrying a warmth he rarely allowed himself to show. When he pulled back, his gray eyes lingered on hers for a moment longer.

"You're tougher than you think," he said softly, standing again. "Now, get some rest. You've got a long day ahead."

With that, he stepped out of the cell, the soft click of the lock sealing her in. But before he disappeared into the corridor, he turned back one last time, his sharp gaze lingering on her.

"Don't get too used to this," he said, his tone teasing but with a thread of warmth woven in. Then, without waiting for a response, he vanished into the shadows, leaving Mikasa alone in the quiet, her fingers brushing her lips as a faint smile tugged at them.

****************************

The sun was just beginning to rise, painting the sky in muted shades of gold and pink, as Mikasa made her way back to her shared room. The corridors were quiet, most of the barracks still cloaked in early morning stillness. Her steps were slow but purposeful, her mind caught between the events of the past day and the prospect of what lay ahead. She hadn't even been back to her room since being sent to the basement cell, and the idea of seeing Sasha filled her with a strange mix of trepidation and comfort.

When she finally reached the door, she hesitated for a moment before pushing it open. The faint creak of the hinges broke the silence, and she stepped inside quietly. The room was dim, with only a sliver of morning light streaming through the curtains, but it was enough for Mikasa to see Sasha sitting cross-legged on her bed.

Her friend's head was propped on one hand, her eyes half-lidded with sleep but alert the moment she noticed Mikasa. Sasha straightened, her expression shifting from groggy to gleeful in seconds.

"Mikasa!" she exclaimed, her voice a mix of relief and excitement. "You're back!"

Mikasa blinked, surprised to see her friend so alert. "Sasha... is that how you slept all night?" she asked, her voice quiet but tinged with curiosity.

Sasha shrugged, a sheepish grin spreading across her face. "Pretty much. I didn't even realize it until you came in, though. I guess I was kind of worried about you."

Mikasa's brows furrowed, guilt creeping into her expression. "You didn't have to do that," she said softly, closing the door behind her and stepping further into the room.

Sasha waved a hand dismissively. "Of course I did! You're my best friend, Mikasa. How could I not worry? It was so weird having the room all to myself, and I didn't like it." Her grin turned teasing. "I mean, sure, most nights you're not here anyway, sneaking off to Captain Levi's room and all, but this was different. I hated knowing why you weren't here this time."

Mikasa felt a faint blush rise to her cheeks, but the warmth in Sasha's voice disarmed her. Without a word, she crossed the room and sat on the edge of Sasha's bed. Then, to Sasha's utter surprise, Mikasa reached out and pulled her into a hug.

"Mikasa?" Sasha's voice was muffled against her shoulder, her arms tentatively wrapping around her friend. "What's this for?"

"Thank you," Mikasa said quietly, her voice steady but soft. "For worrying. For waiting. It means a lot."

Sasha blinked, then her grin returned full force. "Well, you don't have to thank me. That's what friends do, right?" She squeezed Mikasa briefly before pulling back, her expression more serious now. "But seriously, Mikasa, you had everyone worried. Especially Eren and Armin. And Isabel! She was running around like a madwoman trying to find out what happened to you. Poor Farlan looked like he was going to lose his mind trying to calm her down."

Mikasa stiffened slightly at the mention of Isabel, her body going rigid for a fraction of a second before she caught herself. Sasha noticed immediately, her grin fading into a look of concern.

"Mikasa? What's wrong?" Sasha asked, leaning closer.

Mikasa's gaze dropped to the floor, her fists clenching slightly at her sides. The image of Isabel's bloodied face flashed through her mind, followed by the terrified expression of the recruit she had nearly hurt far worse. She exhaled sharply, willing herself to stay composed.

"I need to go see everyone," Mikasa said finally, her voice quieter. "I'll talk to Eren, Armin, and Isabel soon."

She hesitated before speaking again. "I should apologize to Raiden," she murmured, almost to herself.

Sasha blinked. "Raiden? The recruit you sparred with?"

"Yes," Mikasa said firmly, her tone leaving no room for argument. "I owe him an apology."

Sasha's expression softened, and she placed a hand on Mikasa's shoulder. "That's a good idea. I think it'll mean a lot to him."

Mikasa nodded again, her resolve firming. "I'll make it right."

Sasha's grin returned as she plopped back onto her bed, sprawling out lazily. "Good. Now, get some sleep while I recover from my terrible night of half-sleep too. But no more scaring us, okay?"

Mikasa allowed herself a small smile. "I'll try." With that, she turned towards her bed.

****************************

The sun was still low in the sky, its golden light streaming through the windows of the dining hall as Mikasa and Sasha walked inside. The smell of fresh bread and stew lingered in the air, mingling with the low murmur of soldiers chatting over breakfast. Mikasa's scarf was pulled snugly around her neck, her shoulders squared as she stepped through the door. But she didn't miss the change in atmosphere the moment they entered.

Conversations faltered. Heads turned, some subtly, others not bothering to hide their curiosity. Mikasa caught a few murmurs, whispers darting between groups of recruits.

"Isn't that her?"

"Yeah, the one who lost it during sparring."

"She's dangerous..."

Mikasa ignored them, her face impassive, but Sasha noticed and frowned, her eyes darting around the room. "People need to learn to mind their own business," she muttered under her breath, shooting a glare at one particularly loud table.

"It doesn't matter," Mikasa said quietly, her voice firm as she strode toward their usual spot. Her focus was unwavering, her gaze locked on the group of familiar faces at the far end of the hall.

Eren and Armin were already there, along with the rest of the usual gang. Sasha slid in first, glancing around the table before nudging Mikasa to sit down. Mikasa lowered herself onto the bench without a word, her scarf still wrapped tightly around her face as she took in the relieved expressions of her friends.

"Mikasa!" Eren was the first to react, half-rising from his seat with a look of urgency. "What happened? Are you okay? Did they—"

"Eren, slow down," Armin interrupted, though his own concern was evident in the way he leaned forward, his hands gripping the edge of the table. "We heard what happened. Are you—"

"Guys, give her a second!" Sasha scolded, nudging Mikasa gently toward the bench. "She just got here."

"I'm fine," Mikasa said evenly, her voice steady but quiet. She adjusted her scarf, her gaze briefly meeting Eren's before shifting to the rest of the group. "I know what you've heard, and it's true. I lost control during sparring.

Their questions came rapid-fire, but Jean interrupted with a loud sigh, leaning back in his chair. "Give her a break, you two. She's clearly fine. Let her eat her damn breakfast."

"Yeah," Connie added, though his tone was lighter. "She didn't come here to get interrogated. Besides, Mikasa could take down anyone. That recruit's probably still shaking in their boots."

Sasha elbowed Connie lightly, rolling her eyes. "You're not helping."

Mikasa exhaled softly, her hands resting on the table. "It wasn't Raiden's fault," she said after a moment, her voice calm. "It was... something else. Something I thought I had under control, but I didn't." She hesitated, her gaze dropping to her hands. "It won't happen again."

The table went quiet for a moment, the weight of her words settling over them. Then, to her surprise, Sasha spoke up, her voice cheerful but warm. "Well, we all have bad days, right? I mean, remember when Connie tripped over his own sword during drills and took out half the supply tent?"

The group burst into laughter, the tension breaking instantly as Connie groaned. "Why do you always bring that up?!"

"Because it's funny," Sasha quipped, grinning. "And Mikasa needs to know she's not the only one who screws up sometimes."

Even Mikasa couldn't suppress the faint smile tugging at her lips. Eren, noticing the slight shift in her demeanor, softened. "We're just glad you're okay," he said earnestly. "That's all that matters."

Armin nodded in agreement. "If you ever want to talk about it... we're here."

Mikasa glanced around the table, taking in the familiar faces of her friends—Sasha's grin, Eren's determined gaze, Armin's quiet support, even Jean's usual smirk. The weight on her shoulders felt a little lighter, and for the first time that morning, she let herself relax.

"Thank you," she said quietly, her voice carrying a rare warmth.

Sasha, ever the mood lightener, leaned over and nudged Mikasa with her elbow. "You've got a fan club this morning," she said, tilting her head toward a nearby table where a group of recruits were still whispering and stealing glances. "Don't worry, though. I'll handle your PR."

Connie snorted, shoving a piece of bread into his mouth. "I'd pay to see that disaster."

"Hey!" Sasha protested, pointing a fork at him. "I've got charm! Watch this." She stood up on her seat, turned dramatically to Mikasa, raising her voice as if addressing the onlookers. "Ladies and gentlemen, may I present the terrifying, untouchable, and very-much-not-dangerous Mikasa Ackerman!"

Mikasa rolled her eyes, but a faint smile tugged at her lips. "Thanks, Sasha. Very helpful."

Jean, sitting across from them, smirked. "To be fair, you did scare the hell out of everyone yesterday. I thought that poor recruit was going to faint."

At the mention of Raiden, Mikasa's faint smile faded. She straightened slightly, her hands resting on the edge of the table. "I need to apologize to him."

The table fell silent for a moment, the weight of her words hanging in the air. Armin was the first to break it, his voice soft. "That's probably a good idea. He'll appreciate it."

Mikasa hesitated, the image of Isabel's bloodied face flashing through her mind, followed by the chilling detachment that had gripped her during the sparring match. She exhaled quietly. "I'll make it right."

Jean, surprisingly, chimed in with a rare show of solidarity. "Yeah, even if you scare the crap out of people sometimes, we know you're not that kind of person. Just don't get too mushy about it, or Connie might cry."

"Hey!" Connie protested, looking offended. "I don't cry. I sweat from my eyes when it's emotional, okay?"

The table burst into laughter, and Mikasa shook her head, her shoulders relaxing slightly. The tension in the air began to dissipate, replaced by the easy camaraderie she had come to rely on.

****************************

Mikasa found Raiden near the armory, talking with a few other recruits. The morning sun streamed through the open windows, casting soft light on his face. Her steps slowed as she approached, her usual confidence faltering slightly. The scar on his neck—faint but still visible—caught her attention, and a pang of guilt tugged at her chest.

As she neared, Raiden noticed her and straightened, his expression shifting from casual to attentive. The other recruits quickly picked up on her presence and shuffled away, leaving the two of them alone.

"Raiden," Mikasa began, her voice steady but softer than usual. She stopped a few paces from him, her hands at her sides. "I wanted to apologize. For what happened yesterday."

Raiden tilted his head, his brow furrowing slightly, but he didn't interrupt. Mikasa continued, her gaze briefly dropping to the scar. "I lost control, and... I shouldn't have. You didn't deserve that."

A small smile tugged at the corner of Raiden's mouth, surprising her. "You're apologizing? For giving me the most intense sparring session I'll probably ever have?"

Mikasa blinked, momentarily caught off guard by his lighthearted response. "I'm serious," she said, her tone firm but lacking its usual sharpness. "I could've hurt you worse. I almost—"

"Hey, relax," Raiden interrupted, raising a hand. "I get it. Things happen in sparring. We all have our moments, and honestly, I'm fine. See?" He gestured to himself with an exaggerated flourish, as if to prove he was still in one piece. "This scar just makes me look tougher. Chicks dig scars, right?"

Mikasa couldn't help the faint twitch of amusement at his attempt to lighten the mood. "Still," she said quietly, "I regret it."

Raiden's grin softened, and he shrugged. "I appreciate that, but I don't hold it against you. You're... intense, yeah, but in a good way. Honestly, I think I learned more from that one sparring session than from all the drills combined."

Mikasa's brows furrowed slightly. "Learned what?"

"That I'm way out of your league," he said with a laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. "But also that I've got a lot to work on. Seriously, those moves you pulled? I'd love to have you as a mentor—y'know, if you don't kill me in the process."

Mikasa looked at him, momentarily unsure if he was joking. But the earnestness in his tone surprised her. "You... want me to be your mentor?" she asked, the faintest hint of incredulity in her voice.

"Why not?" Raiden said, his grin widening. "You're the best out here, no contest. Who wouldn't want to learn from you? Plus," he added, gesturing to the scar, "you've already left your mark on me. Might as well make it worth something," he teased.

Despite herself, Mikasa felt a small smile tug at her lips. Raiden's easy demeanor and willingness to brush off what had happened eased some of the guilt that had weighed on her. She nodded slightly. "If you're serious, then... I don't mind helping."

Raiden's grin turned triumphant, and he gave her a playful salute. "Deal. But, uh, maybe go easy on me next time? I'd like to survive the mentorship."

Mikasa shook her head, the ghost of a smile lingering. "No promises."

As she turned to leave, Raiden called out after her. "Thanks, Mikasa. Really."

She glanced back over her shoulder, her gaze steady. "Thank you. For understanding."

Raiden gave her a thumbs-up, his grin as bright as ever. And as Mikasa walked away, she felt a small weight lift from her chest. The scar on his neck was still there, but his easy acceptance reminded her that she wasn't defined by her mistakes. She could move forward—and so could he.

****************************

Mikasa made her way toward Levi's quarters, her thoughts still lingering on her conversation with Raiden. Apologizing had eased some of the tension she carried, but a new unease gnawed at her - Isabel.

As she approached his door, she noticed it was slightly ajar. She hesitated for a moment before stepping in. The room was neat and sparsely decorated, the faint scent of tea lingering in the air. Her eyes fell on Isabel, who was seated in one of the chairs, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. Isabel's head was down, her bright red hair falling forward, hiding her expression.

Mikasa stepped in cautiously, the quiet tension in the room almost palpable. Isabel didn't look up, and for a moment, Mikasa thought about leaving. But then Isabel lifted her head. Her expression wasn't mischievous or fiery—it was raw and emotional, her lips trembling as tears welled in her wide eyes.

The silence stretched, tense and uncomfortable, until Isabel's face crumpled. She brought her hands up to her cheeks, scrubbing at her eyes like a child trying to fight back tears. "You almost killed someone," she blurted out, her voice cracking. It wasn't an accusation but a reflection of the shock and confusion she'd been carrying.

Mikasa's chest tightened, but before she could speak, Isabel continued. "I didn't know what to do! One second, we're sparring, and then..." Her voice wavered, her hands balling into fists in her lap. "You weren't you anymore. It was like... like you were gone."

Mikasa swallowed hard, guilt twisting her insides. She stepped closer, her tone quiet but steady. "I know," she admitted. "And I'm sorry. For scaring you. For making you worry."

Isabel shook her head, wiping her eyes fiercely with the sleeve of her jacket. "It's not just about that. I just... I didn't know how to help you. I've never seen you like that, and it freaked me out." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "You mean a lot to me, you know?"

"I'm sorry," Mikasa said softly, her voice steady but low. She stepped closer, standing just in front of Isabel. "I didn't mean to scare you. Or anyone."

Isabel sniffled, looking up at Mikasa with watery eyes. "Then what was it?" she asked, her voice quieter now but still trembling. "Why did you lose it like that?"

Mikasa hesitated, her hands clenching at her sides. She could see the fear and hurt in Isabel's gaze, and it cut deeper than she expected. Taking a deep breath, she crouched down so she was at Isabel's eye level. "It wasn't you," she said firmly. "When I saw the blood... it wasn't you I saw. It was my sister. I—" She paused, her voice faltering. "I thought I was back there. Back in that moment."

Isabel's eyes widened slightly, her tears slowing. She studied Mikasa's face, as if searching for something. "Your sister?" she whispered.

Mikasa nodded, her gaze unwavering. "She was killed when I was young. It's a long story, but... seeing you hurt like that brought it all back. I wasn't thinking clearly. I didn't even know where I was anymore."

Isabel wiped her eyes with her sleeve, her expression softening as her breathing evened out. "You... you really saw her? That's why you went all... scary?"

"Yes," Mikasa admitted, her tone heavy with sincerity. "But it doesn't excuse what I did, Isabel. It won't happen again."

For a moment, Isabel just stared at her, her expression caught between frustration and relief. Then, to Mikasa's surprise, Isabel leaned forward and hugged her tightly.

Mikasa blinked, startled by the gesture, but after a brief hesitation, she returned the hug, one arm wrapping around Isabel while her free hand gently patted the top of Isabel's head. "Thank you," she said quietly, her voice steady.

Isabel pulled back, wiping her eyes one last time. Her grin was faint but genuine. "You're still a pain, but I'll forgive you this time."

Mikasa allowed herself a faint smile. "I'll keep that in mind," she said. She hesitated, then added, "By the way, I apologized to Raiden earlier."

Isabel perked up at that, tilting her head curiously. "Oh yeah? How'd that go?"

Mikasa's tone was calm, though there was a faint hint of amusement. "He said I'd left my mark on him and asked me to be his mentor."

Isabel burst into laughter, doubling over for a moment. "Seriously? That guy's got guts!" But then, suddenly, her laughter stopped, and she gasped dramatically. "Oh no. Big bro's going to lose it."

Mikasa frowned, confused. "Why would Levi care?"

Isabel slapped her forehead in mock exasperation. "Mikasa, duh! That was totally a pick-up line. And Big Bro? He's going to be jealous of that guy!"

Mikasa stiffened, her eyes widening slightly. "What? That's not—he didn't mean it like that."

"Sure he didn't," Isabel said, her grin wide and teasing. "You just have that effect on people. And if Levi walks in on you mentoring that guy? He'll probably challenge him to spar just to remind him who's boss."

"Stop running your mouth," Levi's voice cut in, sharp but not unkind.

Both Mikasa and Isabel turned quickly to see Levi standing in the doorway, his arms crossed as he leaned casually against the frame. He had clearly been there long enough to catch their conversation. His gaze softened for a fraction of a second as it flickered between Mikasa and Isabel, but when Mikasa opened her mouth to explain, his eyes narrowed slightly.

"Raiden, huh?" Levi said flatly, his tone unreadable.

"See?" Isabel chimed, pointing at him. "Told you he'd get jealous."

Levi shot her a glare, but it lacked any real heat. "You don't know when to shut up, do you?"

Isabel smirked, leaning casually back in her chair. "Oh, I know when. I just don't want to. Admit it, Big Bro. You were totally eavesdropping, and now you're mad."

Levi's jaw tightened slightly, but his voice remained calm. "I'm mad because you're still talking."

Mikasa, caught somewhere between flustered and amused, decided to team up. "He does seem a little ruffled, doesn't he?" she said, her voice teasing as she glanced at Isabel.

"Totally ruffled," Isabel agreed, nodding sagely. "It's okay, Big Bro. We'll find a way to calm you down."

Isabel, undeterred, stood up dramatically and crossed her arms, mimicking Levi's usual posture. "You're just mad because Mikasa has more admirers than you."

Levi scoffed. "If you're done embarrassing yourself—"

"I'm not!" Isabel cut him off, jabbing a finger toward Mikasa. "Mikasa, tell him! That guy was totally flirting."

Mikasa, caught somewhere between flustered and defensive, tried to explain. "It wasn't like that. He was just joking—"

"Sounds like a lot of jokes around here," Levi interrupted, his tone dry.

Isabel grinned, clearly enjoying herself. "Oh, come on, Big Bro. Admit it—you're jealous."

Levi's tsk was immediate, and he turned his sharp gaze to Isabel. "Get out."

"But I'm having fun and I came to talk to you!" Isabel protested, laughing as she threw an arm around Mikasa's shoulder. "Come on, Mikasa, back me up! Don't you think he's jealous?"

Mikasa sighed, glancing at Levi, who looked like he was losing patience by the second. "Isabel, you're not helping."

"That's the point," Isabel quipped, sticking her tongue out at Levi.

"Out." Levi said firmly, his expression brooking no argument.

Isabel pouted but relented, her mischievous grin returning as she headed for the door. Just as she reached the threshold, she turned back, winking at Mikasa. "Don't let him scare you, Mikasa. I'll leave you two alone to... you know... get down to business." She waggled her eyebrows suggestively, her grin widening.

Mikasa's eyes widened, a flush creeping up her neck. "Isabel!"

Levi's jaw tightened as he shot her a glare. "Out. Now."

Isabel laughed, clearly enjoying herself as she slipped out the door. "Make sure to lock the door, lovebirds!" she called over her shoulder before disappearing into the hallway.

Levi pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering something under his breath about brats and boundaries, while Mikasa could only shake her head, her face still warm from Isabel's parting jab.

As the door closed behind her, Mikasa turned back to Levi, her expression softening despite her flustered state. "She's... lively."

Levi exhaled, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Lively doesn't begin to cover it."

A faint smile tugged at Mikasa's lips. "You didn't deny being jealous."

Levi paused, his gray eyes meeting hers, his expression unreadable. "Why would I deny the obvious?" he said simply before turning away, leaving Mikasa both stunned and flustered.

Mikasa hesitated for a moment after Levi's words settled in the air. "I should leave," she said softly, glancing toward the door. "Training will start soon."

She reached for the doorknob, her fingers curling around the cool metal, but before she could turn it, Levi's hand shot out, gently pushing the door closed again. The soft thud echoed in the quiet room, and Mikasa froze, her heart skipping a beat.

She turned slowly, her back now pressed against the door, only to find herself caged by Levi's arms on either side of her. His sharp gray eyes locked onto hers, filled with an intensity that sent a shiver down her spine. He leaned in, close enough that the faint scent of tea and steel surrounded her.

"You're leaving," he murmured, his voice low and teasing, "right after mentioning that Raiden guy? The one you've 'left a mark on'?" There was a hint of possessiveness in his tone, subtle but unmistakable.

Mikasa opened her mouth to retort, but her words were stolen when Levi's lips crashed against hers. The kiss was firm and demanding, yet it carried an undeniable tenderness beneath the urgency. Mikasa's breath hitched, her hands instinctively gripping his jacket as she leaned into him.

Levi reached behind her and turned the lock on the door with a decisive click, his lips never leaving hers. The sound made Mikasa's heart race even faster, a thrill of anticipation coursing through her. Slowly, he guided her backward, their movements fluid as he stepped with her until they reached his desk.

Mikasa gasped softly as Levi lifted her onto the desk, his hands steadying her by the waist. She felt the cool surface beneath her thighs and the warmth of his palms through the fabric of her uniform. When his fingers brushed against the hem of her shirt, she tensed slightly, breaking the kiss to catch her breath.

"Levi," she whispered, her voice shaky but firm. "We can't... I have to leave soon."

His lips quirked into a small smirk, and his hand slid to rest against her lower back, pulling her slightly closer. "You're the one who made me wait a whole day," he murmured, his tone teasing but edged with sincerity. "That's your fault."

Mikasa flushed, her mind swirling between wanting to resist and giving in completely. She sighed softly, her hands relaxing their grip on his jacket. "Fine," she said, her voice barely audible, "but don't tear anything this time. I need to leave in these clothes."

Levi chuckled, the sound low and intimate. "Noted," he said, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin just below her ear. His hands moved with calculated precision, unbuttoning her shirt halfway to reveal the smooth curve of her collarbone and the delicate lines of her chest. His lips followed the path his hands created, leaving faint, lingering kisses along her skin.

His hands trailed lower, unfastening the buttons of her pants. Mikasa's breath hitched as he slipped them down just enough, his touch both gentle and firm. Her heart pounded in her chest, her body reacting to every deliberate movement he made.

"Levi..." she whispered, her tone caught between a warning and surrender.

He smirked against her neck, his lips tracing the sensitive skin there. "What?" he murmured, his voice low and teasing. "I'm just showing you exactly where you belong."

Levi positioned himself between her thighs, his hands gripping her hips as he pressed closer. Their gazes locked for a brief moment, an unspoken connection passing between them. Slowly, deliberately, he entered her, his movements careful and measured, his eyes never leaving hers.

Mikasa gasped softly, her hands clutching at his shoulders as she adjusted to the sensation. Levi paused for a moment, his forehead resting lightly against hers, his breath mingling with hers in the quiet intimacy of the moment.

"Still thinking about leaving?" he murmured, his voice rough but teasing.

Mikasa glared at him weakly, though her flushed cheeks betrayed her. "Just... don't take too long," she muttered, her voice shaky.

Levi smirked again, his hands sliding to grip her hips as he began to move. His thrusts were measured at first, each one deliberate and controlled, but as Mikasa's breaths grew heavier, he quickened his pace, his thrusts becoming stronger, his grip tightening slightly.

Mikasa's hands found their way to his hair, her fingers tangling in the dark strands as she pulled him closer. Her soft gasps and whispered protests turned into quiet moans, each one spurring Levi on. His focus never wavered, his sharp gaze fixed on her face, drinking in every expression she made.

"You drive me crazy, you know that?" Levi muttered, his voice low and strained as he pressed a kiss to her collarbone. "Making me wait... making me jealous..."

Mikasa didn't respond, her mind too hazy from the intensity of the moment. She arched slightly against him, her hands sliding down to grip his shoulders as he continued, each movement deliberate and consuming.

Levi slowed after a while, his forehead pressing against hers again as he caught his breath. He placed a soft, lingering kiss on her lips before pulling back slightly, his smirk returning. "Satisfied?" he asked, his tone teasing but his eyes softened by something deeper. He brushed a stray strand of hair from her face, his gray eyes softened by something vulnerable yet intense.

Mikasa gave him a small glare, though the corner of her lips twitched upward. "More than satisfied," she muttered, her voice light despite the flush still coloring her cheeks.

Levi chuckled softly, stepping back to adjust his uniform and helping Mikasa do the same. As he straightened her collar, his expression grew momentarily serious. "You're mine." he said quietly, his voice firm but warm.

Mikasa nodded, her gaze meeting his. "I know," she replied, her tone equally soft.

Levi's smirk returned, his fingers brushing against her cheek one last time before he stepped back. "Good. Now get out of here before I decide to make you late for training."

Mikasa rolled her eyes but couldn't hide the small smile as she slipped out the door, leaving Levi behind with a rare, lingering satisfaction.

****************************

Hey! Chap 10 on dec 10. Sorry for delay, I am finalizing the plots and arcs before I publish more chapters.

Chapter Text

The soft glow of dawn slipped through the curtains, casting warm golden light across Levi's room—a space that, unsurprisingly, was as meticulously kept as its owner. Mikasa stirred under the blanket, gradually blinking awake to the faint smell of tea leaves and the distinct, clean scent of Levi. She sat up slowly, tugging her scarf around her neck in habit, her eyes drifting to the neat rows of bookshelves against the wall.

The sound of water running from the adjoining bathroom drew her attention. Moments later, the door creaked open, and Levi stepped out, his dark hair damp, strands clinging stubbornly to his forehead. A towel hung lazily around his neck, and his half-buttoned shirt revealed faint glimpses of toned muscle and collarbones beneath. Mikasa's gaze lingered a moment too long.

Levi raised an eyebrow, catching her stare. "See something you like, Ackerman?" he asked, voice low and teasing, his smirk infuriatingly smug.

Mikasa flushed, immediately looking away as she tightened her scarf—her go-to defense against everything. "I wasn't—"

"Yes, you were," Levi interrupted dryly, tugging the towel from his neck and tossing it onto a chair.

"I wasn't staring," she shot back firmly, her tone clipped but unable to hide the faint pink on her cheeks.

Levi shrugged, clearly unfazed. "Fine. You were admiring. Happy?"

Mikasa narrowed her eyes, annoyed at how effortlessly he managed to needle her. "Do you ever stop talking?"

"Not when it's this easy to get under your skin," Levi replied, his smirk widening slightly. "Admit it—you like the view."

"Don't push it," she warned, her glare sharp.

Levi let out a quiet scoff, slipping into his jacket and rolling up his sleeves with practiced precision. "You're the one still staring, Mikasa. I'm just standing here."

Mikasa turned toward the bookshelf, muttering under her breath as she ignored his pointed gaze. "Unbelievable."

Levi smirked again but didn't push further, allowing the silence to settle back in. It wasn't awkward, though—there was a quiet understanding between them, unspoken but undeniable.

"You have a lot of books," Mikasa observed, sliding out of bed. She walked over to the shelves, her fingers hovering over the collection. It wasn't what she had expected from him—rows of worn spines, some cracked with age, others clearly well-read but meticulously cared for.

"Tch. What's your point?" Levi said, though there was no bite to his words.

She tilted her head, a faint smile tugging at her lips. "Armin would love these. He's always searching for new books. Back in the Underground, books were a luxury we could never afford."

Levi paused his task, glancing at her from the corner of his eye but saying nothing.

Mikasa's attention shifted to a specific book on the shelf. The title was worn but legible, the faded letters spelling out The Wonders Beyond the Walls. Her fingers hovered over it, her expression softening. Carefully, she pulled it free, cradling it in her hands like something fragile.

"This book..." she whispered, brushing her fingers across the textured cover. "I've seen it before." She glanced at Levi. "Books about the outside world are so rare. I didn't think I'd see this one again."

Levi leaned casually against the wall, crossing his arms as he watched her. "Go on," he said, his voice low but curious.

Mikasa exhaled softly, her gaze dropping to the book. "Armin wanted this book so badly when we were in the Underground. He never asked for it—he knew how difficult it would be to find. But Eren and I..." She trailed off, a faint smile crossing her lips. "We wanted to get it for him. We found someone who had it, and we went through a lot of trouble to steal it."

Levi raised an eyebrow, his arms tightening across his chest. "Trouble?"

Mikasa nodded. "It wasn't easy. We had to sneak into a merchant's stash. Eren thought it was worth the risk. And when we gave it to Armin, he was so happy. He didn't stop smiling the entire day."

Her smile faltered, and she stared down at the book in her hands. "But he only got to read half of it. Someone took it back from us—one of the merchant's thugs. Armin was heartbroken, though he tried not to show it. He didn't want us to feel bad for losing it."

Silence settled between them, heavy with unspoken emotion. Levi's gaze shifted to the book, his sharp eyes softening almost imperceptibly. "That book," he said after a moment, his voice quieter than usual. "I used to read it with my mother. Back in the Underground."

Mikasa's head snapped up, her eyes wide with surprise. "You did?"

Levi's expression remained stoic, but there was a hint of vulnerability in his gaze. "She loved books like that. Stories about the sea, freedom, the world beyond the walls. They gave her something to hold onto when things were..." He paused, searching for the words. "When things were bad."

Mikasa stayed silent, her chest tightening at the rare glimpse into his past.

"She died before she could ever see any of it," Levi said simply, his voice devoid of bitterness but heavy with the weight of memory. "I kept that book because it reminded me of her. Of the stories she used to tell me about a world I'd probably never see."

Mikasa's fingers tightened around the book, her heart aching at the quiet sadness in his voice. "I didn't know," she said softly.

Levi shrugged, brushing off her sympathy. "It doesn't matter. It's just a book."

But Mikasa knew it wasn't just a book. She could see it in the way his gaze lingered on the worn cover, the faint tension in his posture. It was a connection to a part of his life he rarely shared, a piece of his past he still carried with him.

After a long moment, Levi nodded toward the book in her hands. "Take it."

Mikasa blinked, startled. "What?"

"Take it," Levi repeated, his tone firm. "Give it to Armin. Let him finish reading it."

"But it's—"

"It's just sitting here," Levi cut her off. "If it meant that much to him, let him have it. Just make sure it comes back in one piece."

Mikasa hesitated, the weight of his gesture sinking in. She knew how much the book must mean to him, how deeply it was tied to his memories of his mother. And yet, he was offering it to her—entrusting her with something precious.

"Thank you," she said quietly, her voice steady but filled with sincerity.

Levi tsked, turning away to adjust his jacket. "Don't make a big deal out of it," he muttered.

Mikasa couldn't help the small smile that tugged at her lips. As she turned to leave, a thought struck her, and she glanced over her shoulder. "Oh, by the way... Connie saw me leaving your room the other morning."

Levi, who had been rolling up his sleeve with practiced precision, paused mid-motion. His sharp eyes flicked to hers, narrowing slightly. "And?"

"And Jean didn't seem convinced when I told him it was nothing," Mikasa added, her tone deliberately casual but with a teasing edge.

Levi's movements resumed, though the slight tightness in his jaw didn't escape her notice. "What did he say?" His voice was even, almost too nonchalant, as if he were trying a little too hard to sound indifferent.

Mikasa bit back a grin, leaning slightly against the doorframe. "Oh, you know... something about me sneaking off to meet someone. He seemed very curious about who."

Levi tsked, his focus on the cuff of his sleeve as he fastened it. "Tch. Jean's an idiot. Always has been."

Mikasa tilted her head, watching him closely. His hands were steady, his expression controlled, but she caught the subtle flicker of irritation in his eyes. Levi wasn't as unaffected as he pretended to be. She decided to press just a little more.

"Connie didn't help either," she said, her voice light. "He said I probably have a 'secret lover.'"

Levi straightened, his sharp gray eyes finally meeting hers, his expression unreadable. "Sounds like Connie needs to spend more time running laps," he said, his voice cool but a little too quick, as though he were masking something.

Mikasa smirked, crossing her arms. "You're playing it cool, but I can tell it's bothering you."

Levi's eyes narrowed slightly. "It's not bothering me," he replied, his tone sharp but still maintaining his usual composure. "I just don't like brats sticking their noses where they don't belong."

"Right," Mikasa said, clearly unconvinced, though her smile softened. "Well, don't worry. I didn't give them any answers."

Levi gave a small scoff, returning to adjusting his jacket. "You shouldn't have to," he muttered. "If they had half a brain, they'd mind their own damn business."

Mikasa chuckled softly, holding the book closer to her chest as she stepped toward the door. "You're very convincing when you're pretending not to care."

Levi gave her a sidelong glance, his expression unreadable but his posture a touch more relaxed. "And you're very convincing when you're pretending you're not enjoying this."

Mikasa allowed herself a small, genuine smile as she reached for the door handle. "Oh, I'm definitely enjoying it."

Before she opened the door, she turned back, her tone more serious. "Thank you. For this," she said, lifting the book slightly.

Levi gave her a faint nod, his gaze lingering on her for a moment. "Tell Armin not to drool on it," he said gruffly, though the warmth in his tone wasn't lost on her.

"I'll make sure he doesn't," Mikasa replied, her voice soft but steady. She couldn't suppress the faint smile tugging at her lips, the book in her arms feeling like more than just an old story—it was a piece of Levi's trust, and that was something far more valuable.

Before she could fully turn to leave, Mikasa hesitated, then stepped back toward him. Without a word, she leaned up and pressed a soft kiss to his lips, her touch brief and tender. Levi responded immediately, his hand instinctively resting on her waist as he leaned in, clearly intending to deepen the kiss.

But Mikasa pulled away just as quickly, her eyes meeting his with a small, teasing smile before she turned to leave.

Levi's sharp gaze followed her, and he let out an irritated tsk, his voice dry but unmistakably annoyed. "Pulling away that fast? That's cruel, Ackerman."

Mikasa glanced back over her shoulder, her expression composed but with the faintest hint of amusement in her eyes. "Consider it payback for earlier, Captain."

She disappeared down the hall, leaving Levi standing there with a quiet scowl and a begrudging smirk tugging at his lips.

****************************

The Survey Corps' old HQ was alive once again with a familiar buzz of preparation as the recruits and Levi's squad had just arrived there and worked in unison to ready themselves for the upcoming expedition. Boots thudded across the courtyard, mingling with laughter, sharp orders, and the hum of chatter. Despite the overcast sky, there was an undeniable energy in the air—a mixture of excitement, nerves, and anticipation.

At the far end, Hange was in full swing, her animated gestures matching the chaotic excitement in her voice. "Moblit! If you drop one more paper, I'll test Titan reflexes by throwing you at one!"

"Sorry, sorry!" Moblit muttered, scribbling in his notebook while trying to snatch runaway sheets.

In the center of the yard, the recruits—Mikasa, Eren, Armin, Sasha, Connie, Jean, and the rest—lounged in loose clusters.

"Calm down, Eren," Jean groaned, rolling his eyes as Eren bounced on his feet. "You'll pull a muscle before we even start."

"I'm ready!" Eren shot back, fists clenched. "Why aren't you?"

"I'm ready to not listen to you," Jean muttered, earning a snort from Connie.

Nearby, Sasha tilted her head, whispering something to Connie. Whatever it was, it had them both doubled over with laughter, while Ymir grinned at Krista's ongoing struggle with an oversized blade.

"Want me to hold that for you, Krista?" Ymir teased.

Krista scowled. "No, thank you. I've got it."

Meanwhile, Levi's squad stood at the edge of the courtyard, far too polished compared to the recruits. Isabel elbowed Farlan, whispering something, while Oluo loudly recounted yet another version of his greatest Titan-killing triumph.

"...so there I was, surrounded—surrounded, mind you—by at least twelve Titans..."

"You'd think he punched the Colossal Titan in the face," Petra muttered under her breath, rubbing her temple.

Levi ignored the chatter, his gaze sharp as it swept across the yard. The faintest twitch of irritation crossed his face when Isabel's snickering grew a little too loud.

Then, like an awkward gust of wind, a figure emerged from Hange's group. He stepped into the courtyard cautiously, hood slipping back to reveal a mop of wild, copper-colored curls. Tall and lanky, his long limbs flailed slightly as he waved.

"Uh, hi! Name's Halsten. I just got reassigned to Hange's team," he announced, voice cracking a little.

"Who's the beanpole?" Ymir called, arching a brow as she gave him a slow once-over.

Halsten froze, then forced a crooked smile. "Oh, uh... nice to meet you all."

Connie squinted. "Halsten? That's a mouthful. We'll call you Hal."

"Hal's good," Halsten agreed quickly, scratching his neck.

Sasha stepped closer, narrowing her eyes at his curls. "What's with the hair? It looks like it's trying to escape your head."

"What can I say?" Halsten chuckled, running a hand through the mess. "It's got a mind of its own. Helmets hate me."

"Fits in perfectly with Hange," Jean muttered, earning him a swift glare from the scientist herself as she breezed past.

"Jean," Hange snapped sweetly, "you'll miss me when you're face-to-face with an unrestrained Titan." She clapped a hand on Halsten's shoulder, grinning. "Don't let them scare you, Hal. They're just jealous they didn't get reassigned to me."

Halsten smiled weakly, his freckled face glowing red as the recruits grinned at his expense.

****************************

Levi observed the newcomer silently from his vantage point, arms crossed like a fortress that brooked no nonsense. Something about Halsten didn't sit right. The gangly newcomer's cheerful awkwardness seemed believable enough, but the way his gaze lingered a bit too long on Mikasa? That earned him a mental mark on Levi's ever-growing list of irritants.

Halsten's overly enthusiastic wave in Mikasa's direction only made it worse. "Hey! You're Mikasa, right? I've heard all about you—one of the strongest recruits out here!"

Mikasa barely looked at him, offering the most unenthusiastic nod known to mankind. "That's me."

Halsten's awkward grin faltered like a puppy who'd been scolded. "Uh... cool! Nice scarf, by the way—"

Before he could finish, Sasha's voice piped up loudly enough for everyone to hear. "Careful, Hal! You compliment her too much and Jean might throw himself off a roof."

"Sasha!" Jean barked, his face instantly reddening. "I don't care who—"

"Don't finish that sentence," Mikasa cut in, her tone flat as she shot him a look.

Nearby, Connie snorted. "Jean's gonna write poetry about this moment later. 'Ode to Mikasa, Slayer of Titans, Stealer of Scarves, Ignorer of Beanpoles.'"

Sasha gasped dramatically. "Jean writes poetry?!"

"I DO NOT WRITE—"

"Enough," Levi barked, his sharp tone cutting through the escalating nonsense like a blade. The courtyard fell silent.

Hange chose that exact moment to crash the peace with her usual chaotic energy, waving her notebook like a war banner. "Ereeeeen! There you are! My precious Titan boy—come along now! We've got science to conquer, mysteries to solve, and dangerous ideas to scribble down recklessly!"

Eren flinched, immediately suspicious. "Why do you always sound like you're planning my funeral when you say stuff like that?"

Hange beamed. "Optimism, dear Eren. Probably!"

"'Probably?'" he muttered in horror as she dragged him off toward the experimental area.

Levi rolled his eyes, his tone sharp as he barked, "Enough stalling. Everyone, get started on drills. Now."

The recruits groaned but quickly scrambled into action, pairing up for sparring and maneuver practice under the watchful eyes of Levi's squad. Mikasa glanced briefly in Eren's direction, her concern evident, but a quick glare from Levi sent her moving toward her station.

Levi turned on his heel, falling into step behind Hange as she led Eren and her research team toward the side building. Halsten eagerly trailed after them, chatting far too loudly about equipment setup.

"...and if we adjust the harness system with reinforced tensioning, we could theoretically increase stability during close Titan encounters!" Halsten announced, arms flailing as if to demonstrate.

Levi gave him a sideways glance. "You talk like that again, and I'm tying you to the front line as bait."

Halsten's face went pale. "...Noted, sir."

Levi kept a step behind, his hand resting lightly on the hilt of his blade. If Eren twitched wrong, he'd step in. If Hange got herself killed, he'd... well, that was inevitable.

As they neared the building, Hange's voice floated back through the courtyard.

"Spikes, Moblit! Imagine it—spiky Titans! Or maybe armor and spikes! Write that down! Eren, don't look so nervous—science is just trial and error! Lots and lots of error!"

Eren groaned audibly.

Levi sighed, muttering under his breath, "If she gets herself killed, it's on me."

****************************

The training yard hummed with life, the clang of sparring blades and sharp commands echoing off the old stone walls. Recruits paired off in loose circles, overseen by Farlan, Petra, Gunther, Eld, and Oluo. Levi's squad kept a close eye, correcting stances and barking occasional orders while Levi was busy with Hange and Eren's experiments.

Mikasa stood across from Ymir, fists raised in a steady, relaxed stance.

"Don't hold back now," Ymir called, cracking her knuckles with a grin. "I know you're dying to knock me on my ass."

Mikasa tilted her head slightly, expression blank. "That's the plan."

Ymir snorted. "Great. At least pretend you're struggling, will you?"

Across the yard, Jean and Connie's "sparring" devolved into something closer to flailing. Connie ducked Jean's wild swing, grinning ear to ear. "You're supposed to hit me, not swat at flies!"

"Shut up, Connie!" Jean barked, face reddening as he swung again—and missed.

From her perch against a post, Sasha whistled. "Jean, I think you've discovered a new form of combat. Embarrassment by failure."

"Shut up, Sasha!" Jean's voice cracked slightly, only making Connie laugh harder.

Meanwhile, Ymir jabbed high, but Mikasa sidestepped with ease, her movements liquid and unbothered. A precise sweep of her leg sent Ymir sprawling onto her back with an audible thud.

The courtyard went silent for half a beat before Sasha, perched lazily on a crate, shouted, "Did anyone else hear that? I think Ymir's pride hit the ground first."

Ymir groaned from the dirt, glaring up at the sky. "Shut up, Sasha. My pride can take a hit. My back, though—questionable."

She lunged again, this time aiming high before sweeping low with her leg. Mikasa jumped clean over the attack, her boots landing softly in the dirt. Before Ymir could recover, Mikasa pressed forward, her strikes a blur of precision. Ymir stumbled back, blocking just enough to avoid catastrophe.

"Seriously?!" Ymir grunted. "Do you ever mess up?"

"No," Mikasa replied flatly, sweeping Ymir's legs out from under her. Ymir hit the dirt with a solid thud, blinking up at the sky.

"Point," Mikasa said, stepping back without a hint of gloating.

Ymir propped herself up on her elbows, glowering. "Show-off."

"Out there, fair fights get you killed," Farlan called, arms crossed as he watched.

Petra nodded, smiling faintly. "Keep your feet, Ymir. Mikasa's balance is what makes her dangerous."

Ymir groaned dramatically and flopped back onto the dirt. "Great. Now I'm getting balance lessons. Thanks, Mikasa."

"Warm-up routine," Isabel called out, grinning as she swung her legs off the edge of a barrel. "Hey, Mikasa—when do you start sparring for real?"

Connie, doubled over laughing. "Ymir, she just downgraded you to stretching exercises."

"Shut up, baldy!" Ymir snapped.

"I don't know what's funnier," Sasha said loudly, "Ymir getting flattened or her dignity."

"Stop encouraging her."

"Encourage me to win?" Mikasa asked, straight-faced. "I don't think she needs to."

The group called for a break, collapsing into the shade near the training yard. Water skins were passed around as everyone teased each other over their performance. Jean leaned against a crate, still glaring at Connie.

"I swear, you're cheating," Jean grumbled.

Connie grinned, chugging water. "Cheating? I'm just better."

Petra glanced over at Sasha, who was trying (and failing) to hide a mischievous grin. "Alright, Sasha. Spill. What's so funny this time?"

"Nothing," Sasha said innocently. "Just remembering that time Isabel almost killed us all with her 'brilliant' idea."

Isabel sat up straight, eyes wide. "What?! I don't know what you're talking about!"

"Oh, you know," Sasha teased, shooting a look at Mikasa. "The bridge incident."

Petra perked up, curiosity piqued. "Bridge incident?"

"No!" Isabel waved her arms frantically, her face turning red. "That's classified!"

Oluo smirked, leaning in with mock seriousness. "Classified? Oh, now you have to tell us."

Sasha ignored Isabel's panicked glare. "Fine, but don't judge us until you hear the whole story..."

"Sasha!" Isabel whined, collapsing dramatically onto the crate.

The group erupted into laughter, even Farlan shaking his head as he tried to hide a smile.

************FLASHBACK STARTS****************

From Mikasa's POV

It was one of those rare, quiet mornings at HQ when drills and barking orders were blissfully absent. Mikasa, Isabel, Sasha, Ymir, and Krista strolled down the stone halls, their voices echoing off the high ceilings as they chatted and laughed.

Sasha, naturally, was busy tearing into a loaf of bread she'd smuggled from the kitchen. "Best heist yet," she declared, tossing crumbs everywhere like she'd conquered the entire building.

"You're not even subtle about it," Ymir said, unimpressed. "At least wipe the evidence off your face."

Krista giggled, trying to nudge Ymir gently. "Let her have her victory. It's impressive in its own way."

Isabel, walking ahead, flung her arms dramatically. "You think that's impressive? Listen—yesterday, I wiped the floor with this guy during sparring. I'm talking—bam! Flat on his back."

Mikasa gave her a side glance, tone flat. "You tripped over your own boots yesterday."

"Strategy," Isabel shot back immediately. "He didn't see it coming. That's what counts."

Ymir snorted. "So tripping is your ultimate weapon? Terrifying."

"I'd like to see you try it!" Isabel fired back, puffing her chest out. "And anyway, I let Mikasa win last time. I didn't want to hurt her pride."

Mikasa's lips twitched, almost a smirk. "Is that what happened?"

"Exactly." Isabel grinned confidently. "One of these days, I'll go all out, and you'll see who the real Ackerman is."

Sasha nearly choked on her bread, laughing. "I need front-row seats for that!"

The conversation was cut short as the group rounded a corner and nearly ran into a familiar figure leaning against the archway. Annie Leonhart. Arms crossed, blonde braid perfectly neat, and expression so unreadable she might've been carved from stone.

Isabel, naturally, took it upon herself to shatter the silence. "Annie!" she yelled, waving like a lunatic. "Wow, look who crawled out of her cave!"

Annie's gaze shifted lazily toward the group, her stare saying go away without a single word.

"Annie," Krista greeted warmly, ever the peacemaker. "It's good to see you. What brings you here?"

Annie shrugged, hands still in her pockets. "Got bored."

"Bored?" Ymir repeated, her smirk widening. "What, glaring at a wall finally stopped being fun?"

Krista elbowed her. "Ymir!"

"It's a valid question," Ymir replied, unrepentant.

Annie didn't so much as flinch, her gaze drifting to Mikasa. Their eyes locked in a silent, unreadable exchange, like two wolves sizing each other up.

Sasha leaned toward Isabel, stage-whispering loud enough for everyone to hear. "Are they going to fight, or are we supposed to clap?"

"Clap," Ymir replied solemnly. "But only if Mikasa wins."

"Excuse me?" Isabel piped up, turning to Ymir with mock offense. "Annie's got serious moves. I'd bet on her."

"Oh, please," Sasha said through a mouthful of bread. "Mikasa would flatten her like—like a loaf of this bread." She waved what was left of her snack for emphasis. "No offense, Annie."

Annie's lips twitched—barely a smile, but enough. "Offense taken," she deadpanned.

Mikasa met her with an equally faint smirk. "Good."

Isabel jumped dramatically between them, arms outstretched like a referee. "Alright, break it up! No need for violence in front of the children!"

Ymir rolled her eyes. "We're not children, you moron."

"Speak for yourself," Sasha added, polishing off the rest of her bread. "I'm here for snacks and gossip."

Krista, ever gentle, stepped toward Annie and placed a hand on her arm. "We're heading to the mess hall. You should join us."

Annie hesitated, her gaze flicking between Krista's hopeful smile and the chaos surrounding her. She looked like she was debating her life choices. "Fine," she muttered at last.

Ymir grinned. "Careful, Annie. Show any more emotion, and we might think you like us."

"I don't," Annie shot back flatly, though the smallest of smirks betrayed her words.

The group burst into laughter, even Mikasa cracking a faint smile as they continued toward the mess hall, Annie now trailing slightly behind them.

The group filed into the dining hall, their chatter bouncing off the stone walls as they made their way to the counters. The kitchen staff, long accustomed to this crew's chaos, braced themselves—especially when Sasha shot past like a flash of brown hair and desperation.

"Move, move, move!" Sasha barked, sliding her tray onto the counter with enough force to rattle the utensils. She zeroed in on the bread basket like a predator spotting prey.

Ymir strolled in behind her, hands in her pockets. "Careful. If you move any faster, you'll break the sound barrier."

Krista shook her head, exasperated but smiling. "She's going to eat herself into a coma one of these days."

Sasha ignored them entirely, eyes gleaming as she snatched three croissants in one swoop. "Gold mine."

Nearby, Isabel hovered by the fruit section, her gaze darting toward a basket of apples. She grabbed one. Then another. Then—

"I see you, Isabel," one of the kitchen staff called out flatly, arms crossed.

Isabel froze mid-swipe, plastering on her best innocent grin. "Me? I'm, uh... just checking them for bruises. Quality control."

"Put one back."

Isabel sighed like it physically pained her, holding up the smallest apple as if she were sacrificing a child. "Fine. But I'm taking the good ones. Out of respect."

The staff member shook their head. "Respect's not what I'd call it."

Isabel backed away, muttering, her jacket suddenly much bulkier.

Meanwhile, Mikasa and Annie approached the counter with their usual efficiency. Mikasa loaded her tray with a careful balance of vegetables and protein, while Annie grabbed bread and an apple—simple, light, and no-nonsense.

"You don't eat much," Mikasa commented as they walked back.

Annie shrugged. "Don't need much."

There was a brief pause before Mikasa, uncharacteristically conversational, added, "Sasha eats enough for everyone anyway."

Annie's lips twitched, almost a smile. "Fair point."

They returned to the table, where Sasha was already deep into her first roll.

"Do you ever chew?" Ymir asked, leaning back in disbelief as crumbs rained onto Sasha's tray.

Sasha paused just long enough to swallow. "Why bother? Time is bread, Ymir. Time is bread."

"You mean time is money," Isabel corrected, biting into one of her (definitely-not-stolen) apples.

Sasha waved her off. "Nope. Bread's better."

Krista giggled as Ymir groaned. "And there it is. Sasha Braus: philosopher of carbs."

"I'll take it," Sasha replied proudly, reaching for another roll.

The girls crossed the narrow stone bridge that connected two sides of HQ, its weathered surface wobbling ominously beneath their boots. It wasn't a bridge so much as an accident waiting to happen—cracked stone, splintered wooden railings, and a death drop three stories into the courtyard below.

"Anyway," Isabel continued, walking backward and flinging her arms dramatically, "I told him, 'You think you're tough? Blindfolded or nothing.' And he chickened out!"

"Isabel, watch it," Mikasa warned, not bothering to look up.

"I'm fine," Isabel sing-songed, leaning casually against the rickety railing for emphasis. "See? This thing is—"

CRACK.

The railing gave way with a sound that echoed through the courtyard. Isabel's smirk disappeared as her eyes went wide. "Oh shi—"

Gravity did the rest.

"ISABEL!" Sasha screamed, her tray of bread clattering to the stone as she lunged forward. Against all odds (and physics), she grabbed Isabel's ankle just before she dropped out of sight.

Unfortunately, momentum wasn't on Sasha's side. "I got her—I GOT HER—oh no I don't!" she yelped, her boots skidding as she teetered forward.

"WHY ARE YOUR BOOTS SO SLIPPERY?!" Isabel shrieked, dangling upside down like a human piñata.

"Because you're heavy!" Sasha yelled back, her voice strained as her other hand clung desperately to the broken railing.

From a safe distance, Ymir doubled over laughing, hands on her knees. "This is what happens when you try to show off, Isabel. Karma's a—"

"YMIR, HELP!" Krista cried, tugging at her arm in panic.

Ymir waved a dismissive hand, still grinning. "What do you want me to do? Grow wings and fly down there?"

Annie, ever the pragmatist, sighed and stepped forward. "Idiots." She crouched carefully, reaching for Sasha. "Stop flailing. I've got—"

CREAK.

Annie froze, her eyes narrowing as the wooden beam beneath her groaned in warning. "Don't you dare."

The beam snapped clean through.

"Annie!" Mikasa lunged, her reflexes sharp as ever, catching Annie's wrist just in time. Unfortunately, in doing so, her foot slipped off the edge.

And suddenly, there they were: Mikasa hanging from the bridge's edge with one hand and gripping Annie's wrist with the other. Below them, Sasha dangled helplessly, clutching Annie's arm, while Isabel swung wildly at the very bottom of the human chain.

From below, the courtyard froze. A recruit pointed up. "Uh... are we doing acrobatics now?"

Another squinted. "If that's training, I quit."

Above, the chain swayed in the breeze.

"Guys?" Isabel's panicked voice floated up. "Is it just me, or is the ground getting closer?"

"It's just you!" Mikasa snapped, her arm visibly straining as sweat beaded on her forehead. "Stop moving!"

"Stop moving?!" Sasha shrieked. "Tell that to Isabel! She's flailing like a fish!"

"Hey, it's not my fault I'm at the bottom!" Isabel yelled back, swinging one leg to try and climb. She accidentally smacked Sasha in the head.

"OW! WATCH IT!"

"Sorry!"

Ymir leaned lazily over the broken edge, clearly enjoying the chaos. "You guys look like the worst wind chime I've ever seen. 'The Flying Idiots,' live in concert."

"Ymir!" Mikasa barked, her voice sharp enough to make Ymir jolt. "Less talking. More helping!"

"Okay, okay, chill!" Ymir said, grinning as she extended a hand toward Mikasa's wrist. "Not like you're in mortal peril or anything."

"Don't!" Mikasa hissed, her eyes blazing. "You'll drop us all!"

Ymir froze mid-reach, shrugging. "Fine. I'll just be your emotional support."

"Do something useful!" Krista pleaded, her hands clenched to her chest as she looked between Mikasa and Ymir in helpless panic. "Mikasa's strong, but even she can't hold all of them forever!"

"Oh, she'll be fine," Ymir said breezily. "Ackermans don't fall. It's against the rules."

"Ymir," Mikasa growled, voice strained and deadly, "if you don't help, I will throw you off this bridge next."

"Fine, fine!" Ymir said quickly, holding her hands up in surrender. She turned to Krista. "Go get someone before Mikasa commits murder."

Krista bolted without hesitation, her small figure disappearing into the hall like her life depended on it.

From below, Annie's flat voice broke the brief silence. "You're making this worse."

Sasha's head whipped upward, glaring at her through a veil of messy hair. "Oh, sorry, Annie. I'll just let go then, shall I?" Her tone dripped with sarcasm, though her legs still flailed wildly beneath her.

"Don't!" Mikasa's sharp command cut through the air like a blade. She gritted her teeth, the strain in her voice betraying the tension in her arms as they trembled under the combined weight.

"I WAS KIDDING!" Sasha yelped, panic spiking in her voice as she clung tighter to Annie's arm. "Why would I let go?! I'm not suicidal!"

"You're going to drop me if you keep squirming," Annie deadpanned, her voice calm but edged with irritation. She glanced down at Sasha, her blonde braid swaying slightly in the breeze. "Stop moving. And stop yelling in my ear."

"Yelling?! I'm not yelling!" Sasha shot back defensively. "This is my normal voice!"

"Your normal voice is a shriek," Annie retorted, her face completely deadpan.

"Can we stop arguing about Sasha's voice?!" Isabel shrieked from the very bottom of the chain, her words coming out garbled as her hair whipped into her mouth mid-swing. "I'd really like to not die today!"

"You're not helping!" Sasha snapped down at her, her voice cracking. "Stop flailing!"

"I'M NOT FLAILING!" Isabel shot back, though the wild swinging of her arms and legs suggested otherwise. "This is controlled movement!"

"Controlled?! You just kicked me in the head!"

"Well, sorry for trying to climb out of death!"

"Stop—TALKING!" Mikasa snarled, her patience snapping. "If any of you say one more word, I'm letting go."

The entire chain froze, their collective breaths held as the threat hung in the air like a storm cloud.

"Okay, okay," Sasha said quickly, her voice small and sheepish. "No more talking. None."

Silence. For exactly three seconds.

Then Isabel, hanging at the very bottom, whimpered faintly. "I think my boot's coming off."

Sasha's eyes widened in horror. "WHAT?!"

"Shut up, Isabel!" Mikasa roared, her tone so ferocious even Ymir, still leaning casually over the edge above, let out a low whistle.

"Whew. You're scary when you're mad, Mikasa," Ymir remarked, far too amused by the chaos. She rested her chin on her hands as if watching a stage play. "Need me to give a motivational speech? 'Hang in there!'"

"Ymir, if you—"

"Alright, alright!" Ymir cut in, holding up her hands with a grin. "No need to bite my head off."

"Finally," Mikasa muttered under her breath, her grip shifting slightly as she fought to hold on.

Sasha whimpered, tightening her grip on Annie's arm. "If I die, I'm haunting you all."

Krista bolted down the stone corridors of HQ, her frantic footsteps echoing like cannon fire. Her hair flew behind her as she swerved corners, her wide eyes darting around for anyone remotely competent. Recruits dodged aside, watching her pass like she was possessed.

Turning a corner, Krista barreled straight into Jean. "Oof—!" Jean staggered back, clutching his ribs. "Krista! What the hell?"

Krista, undeterred, grabbed his collar and started shaking him. "JEAN, HELP! THE BRIDGE! THEY'RE GOING TO DIE!"

Jean's head bobbed like a marionette as he yelled back, "Wha—WHAT BRIDGE?! WHO'S DYING?!"

"MIKASA! ANNIE! SASHA! ISABEL! THEY'RE DANGLING FROM A BRIDGE!" Krista screeched, punctuating every name with an additional shake.

Eren, who had been talking to Armin nearby, quickly grabbed Krista's shoulders to steady her. "Krista! Slow down! What happened?"

Krista blinked once—then whirled back to Jean as if Eren didn't exist. "THEY'RE GOING TO FALL!"

"Why are you telling me?!" Jean sputtered, pushing her hands off. "This sounds like an Eren problem!"

"Jean, just move!" Krista cried, grabbing his wrist again and yanking him forward. "COME ON!"

Jean stumbled after her, half-running, half-panicking. "Can someone explain how I got roped into this?!"

Connie, witnessing the chaos, let out a wheeze of laughter. "I think she picked you because you look the most expendable."

"SHUT UP, CONNIE!" Jean barked, his voice cracking.

"What bridge?!" Armin asked, his face paling as he fell into step behind them.

"The narrow one in the courtyard!" Krista practically wailed. "The railing snapped, and Mikasa's holding everyone!"

Jean screeched to a halt mid-run, grabbing Connie for support. "HOLDING EVERYONE? Like—by herself?!"

"YES!"

Before anyone could react further, a cold, steel-edged voice cut through the corridor. "What's with all the noise?"

The group collectively froze. Levi stood at the end of the hall, arms crossed, gray eyes narrowing as they landed on Krista.

"Explain. Now."

Krista spun to face him like a soldier reporting for war. "Captain Levi! The bridge—it broke! Mikasa, Sasha, Annie, Isabel—they're hanging off of it! Mikasa's holding three people!"

Levi's eyes sharpened. He didn't say another word. He turned on his heel and strode purposefully down the corridor. "Move."

Jean stumbled alongside Connie, his face now ghostly pale. "Is this for real?!"

"Sounds like a damn circus act," Connie replied, though the humor in his voice had long since fled.

"Holy shit," Jean muttered, raking his hands through his hair as they broke into a run. "They're gonna die. We're going to walk into a bloodbath."

"If it's another one of their idiotic stunts," Levi muttered under his breath, his tone sharp, "I'll kill them myself."

There it was.

Dangling from the broken edge of the bridge like a human wind chime were Mikasa, Annie, Sasha, and Isabel.

At the very top, Mikasa clung to the jagged stone with one trembling hand, her muscles taut with exhaustion. Her pale face was slick with sweat, but her expression was as focused as ever. Below her, Annie hung by Mikasa's other hand, her usual stoicism now replaced with a thin veil of annoyance.

"I said stop moving," Mikasa snapped through gritted teeth.

"I'm not moving," Annie replied flatly, her voice tight. "That's just Sasha."

Sasha, clinging desperately to Annie's leg, yelped, "Don't blame me! Blame Isabel! She's the one kicking!"

"I AM NOT KICKING!" Isabel shrieked from the bottom, swinging wildly like a panicked pendulum. "I'm just... trying to climb!"

"Then STOP IT!" Sasha wailed. "You're making me lose my grip!"

"Everyone shut up!" Mikasa growled, sweat dripping from her brow as her arm muscles visibly shook. "You're not helping."

"Mikasa," Annie hissed through clenched teeth, her own grip faltering slightly. "If you drop me, I swear—"

"I'm not going to drop you!" Mikasa snapped, her voice taut with strain, though it was clear she wasn't far from her breaking point. Her arm burned like fire, every nerve screaming at her to let go, but she wouldn't—not even if it killed her.

"What in the actual—" Levi began, his voice trailing off as the scene rendered him momentarily speechless.

Eren's jaw dropped. "What... the hell?"

Armin pinched the bridge of his nose. "This... this defies logic."

Connie, predictably, burst into laughter. "Oh, my God. How?! How did this even happen?!"

"Stop laughing and HELP!" Mikasa bellowed from above, her voice strained.

"Mikasa!" Eren yelled, rushing forward before Levi grabbed his arm.

"Don't crowd the edge, Jaeger!" Levi barked. "You'll make it worse."

The group froze, and Levi stepped forward, assessing the situation with a scowl. Mikasa's face was pale, her breaths ragged, and the sheer force of her grip seemed to be the only thing holding the human chain together. The bridge groaned ominously under the strain, adding another layer of anxiety to the chaos.

"Captain, they're going to fall!" Krista cried, tugging at Levi's sleeve.

"Yeah, I figured that much, thanks," Levi snapped, already calculating a way to pull them up without sending everyone plummeting to their deaths.

Eren, meanwhile, stood slack-jawed. "How did they even—"

"I don't know!" Armin interrupted, pinching the bridge of his nose as if he could ward off the growing headache. "But we need to get them up. Fast."

Connie, ever the opportunist, was doubled over in laughter. "This is the funniest thing I've ever seen! Isabel looks like some weird upside-down flag."

"Connie, shut up!" Sasha shrieked, her voice a mix of terror and exasperation.

Isabel, swinging at the very bottom of the chain, grinned up at him. "He's not wrong, though! I feel like I should be waving at people or something."

"You're going to die if you keep that up!" Sasha snapped, her grip slipping slightly. "I'm holding your life in my hands, you lunatic!"

Jean, still staring at the scene above, threw his arms up. "Okay, but how did this even happen? Were you all just like, 'Hey, let's defy gravity today!'?"

"Enough!" Levi barked, his voice slicing through the chaos like a whip. The recruits flinched, Mikasa's straining figure looking up at him with a flicker of relief. "We need a rope. Now."

Krista bolted without hesitation, heading for the storage room where spare gear was kept.

"Captain," Mikasa said through gritted teeth, her voice strained.

"Hold on, Ackerman," Levi ordered, his tone clipped but edged with concern. "We're getting you out of this."

"Easier said than done," Jean muttered, staring at the ridiculous scene. "How do we even start?"

"Shut it, Kirstein," Levi snapped, his sharp gaze flicking to Krista. "Where's the rope?"

"Mikasa!" Eren called, stepping closer to the edge. "We're going to pull you up, okay? You have to let go of the bridge for a second."

Mikasa's response was immediate and firm. "No! If I let go, they'll all fall."

"They won't!" Armin shouted, trying to reassure her. "You just have to trust us!"

"Easy for you to say," Mikasa ground out through clenched teeth, the strain evident in her voice. "You're not the one holding everyone!"

Levi's eye twitched as he pinched the bridge of his nose, inhaling slowly. "Alright. Braus."

"Yes?"

"Drop Isabel."

"HEY!" Isabel shouted from the bottom, swinging wildly. "Why me?!"

"You're dead weight," Levi replied flatly. "And you're clearly the cause of this disaster."

"I'M NOT DEAD WEIGHT!" Isabel shrieked indignantly. "I'm extremely useful! Just... not right now!"

"Captain!" Mikasa protested through clenched teeth.

Krista fumbled with the coil of rope she'd carried, handing it to Levi. He inspected it quickly, then began issuing orders with military precision. "Jaeger, Arlert, secure the rope to the railing. Kirstein, Springer, help steady the bridge. We're pulling them up one at a time."

"Captain, can't we just grab her?" Eren asked, looking to Levi for direction. "She can't hold on much longer!"

Levi's eyes flicked to Mikasa's trembling arm, his expression darkening. "She's not letting go until we make it easier for her," he muttered.

Without hesitation, Levi tied a secure knot and handed the rope to Armin and Eren. "Lower this down to the idiot at the bottom first," he instructed, gesturing at Isabel.

"Hey!" Isabel protested. "I have a name, you know."

"Shut up and grab the rope!" Levi snapped.

Despite her precarious position, Isabel grinned and saluted dramatically. "About time! Don't pull too fast—I'm fragile!"

"You're annoying," Jean muttered, helping guide the rope as Isabel grabbed hold.

Armin and Eren lowered the rope carefully, and Isabel, still swinging slightly, managed to grab hold. "Got it!" she chirped, holding on tightly. The boys began pulling her up, inch by inch, her weight slowly lifting off Sasha.

"Thank you!" Sasha groaned as the tension on her arms eased slightly. "I thought I was going to lose my grip."

"Please don't drop me!" Isabel called up as she neared the edge. "I'd hate to ruin my perfect hair."

"Yeah, I'm sure that's everyone's priority," Annie deadpanned.

With a final heave, Isabel was hauled onto the bridge, flopping onto the stone floor dramatically. "I'm alive!" she declared, raising a fist in victory.

"Out of the way," Levi muttered.

Next, the rope was lowered to Sasha, who clung to it like her life depended on it—which, to be fair, it did. "Okay, pull! But be careful! And don't let go! And—"

"Sasha, stop talking!" Jean shouted, helping to haul her up. "You're making me nervous!"

As Sasha reached the edge and was pulled to safety, she immediately collapsed on top of Isabel, both of them lying in a tangled heap. "I'll never eat bread again," she declared breathlessly.

"You're lying," Connie said with a grin.

"Probably," Sasha admitted, her grin faint but visible.

"Leonhart, your turn," Levi called, his tone sharp but focused. The rope was lowered once again, and Annie, with her usual calm efficiency, grabbed hold. Her arms and legs burned from the strain, but she held steady as the boys pulled her up.

Finally, Annie was dragged onto the bridge, her face red but her expression as stoic as ever. She sat upright, brushing dust off her uniform. "That was awful," she muttered.

With the others safely on the bridge, all attention turned to Mikasa, who was still clinging to the edge with one trembling hand. Her arm looked ready to give out, and her breaths were shallow and ragged. Levi stepped forward, his gray eyes locked on hers.

"Let go, Ackerman," Levi ordered, crouching near the edge. "I've got you."

Mikasa shook her head weakly. "Can't... arm..."

Levi tsked, grabbing her wrist with a firm but steady grip. "I didn't ask if you could. Let go."

Mikasa hesitated, her fingers trembling against the jagged stone. Finally, with a deep breath, she released her hold. Levi yanked her upward with surprising strength, pulling her onto the bridge in one smooth motion. The momentum sent them both toppling backward, Mikasa landing half on top of him.

For a moment, the world was silent except for Mikasa's labored breathing. Levi sat up slightly, his sharp eyes scanning her arm. "You okay?" he asked, his voice gruff but tinged with concern.

"Let me see," Levi ordered, his tone brooking no argument.

Mikasa blinked up at him, clearly exhausted but still defiant. "I'm fine."

"You're not," he shot back, already reaching for her shoulder. "Move your hand."

Mikasa sighed but relented, wincing slightly as he pressed gently around the joint, his movements surprisingly careful. "Nothing's dislocated, but you've overstrained it," he muttered.

"It hurts," she admitted.

Levi tsked, his scowl returning. "Of course it does. You're lucky you didn't dislocate it, you idiot."

The girls sat in a disheveled pile on the floor as Levi barked orders at the gawking recruits below. Ymir was still laughing uncontrollably, while Isabel sprawled out dramatically.

"Well," Isabel said weakly, "that was... exciting. I think I saw my life flash before my eyes."

"Exciting?!" Annie snapped, glaring at her. "You almost got us all killed!"

Levi, however, stood at the edge of the bridge, his arms crossed, his sharp gray eyes cutting through the chaos like a blade. His expression was unreadable, but the faint twitch in his brow betrayed the simmering frustration beneath.

"Explain," he said flatly, his tone calm—too calm.

Isabel immediately jabbed a finger at Sasha. "It was her!"

"What?!" Sasha yelped, her face a mix of shock and indignation. "You're the one who leaned on the railing like a total idiot! I saved you!"

"Technically, the railing broke itself," Isabel corrected, folding her arms with a huff.

Sasha shot her a glare. "Technically, you're welcome for not letting you plunge to your doom."

"Remind me to never walk with either of you," Annie muttered, still rubbing her sore arm.

Armin, ever the mediator, sighed. "I think we're missing the bigger point here, which is that they're all alive. Somehow."

Levi's eyes snapped to Mikasa, his voice dropping to a dangerous edge. "Ackerman, care to explain how you ended up dangling off a bridge holding three idiots?"

Mikasa straightened despite the throbbing pain in her arm. Her shoulder burned like fire, but she refused to show weakness. "I saved them," she replied simply, her tone calm and matter-of-fact.

Eren blinked, then grinned. "That's Mikasa. Always the hero."

Jean rolled his eyes. "Yeah, heroically stupid. She could've just let go of Isabel and called it a day."

"I HEARD THAT!" Isabel barked, stomping her foot and glaring up at him.

Levi's glare didn't waver, but his lips pressed into a thin line, as if debating whether to lecture them all into oblivion or just drop them off the bridge for good measure. Finally, his sharp gaze landed back on Mikasa. "Next time, try saving them without nearly ripping your arm off."

Mikasa's stoicism faltered slightly as she flexed her sore shoulder, but she nodded. "Understood, Captain."

Then, without missing a beat, he barked, "Everyone, follow me. Now."

The group fell into a subdued line, trudging behind Levi as he led them through the HQ corridors. Krista hovered close to Mikasa, her expression one of quiet concern. "Does your arm hurt?" she whispered.

Mikasa gave her a faint smile. "It's fine. Don't worry."

Behind them, Jean whispered to Connie, "Ten bucks says Captain is planning their funerals right now."

The group arrived at the dining hall, where the remnants of breakfast service lingered. A few other recruits were scattered at tables, and all conversation seemed to die the moment they saw Levi's crew march in. Whispers began almost immediately, along with barely concealed grins and the occasional chuckle.

"Did you see them hanging from the bridge?"

"Yeah, I thought it was some kind of weird training exercise."

"Training? Looked more like a circus act to me."

Levi ignored the murmurs, his sharp gaze slicing across the room until the whispering died down. "Sit," he ordered curtly, gesturing toward a table in the corner. The group scrambled to comply, practically tripping over themselves to avoid further wrath.

Levi disappeared for a moment, returning shortly with an ice pack in one hand. Without a word, he dropped it in front of Mikasa and raised an eyebrow, his expression brooking no argument.

"Use it," he said flatly.

Mikasa hesitated for a moment, then nodded, pressing the cold pack to her shoulder with a quiet wince. Levi's eyes lingered on her, his gaze softening ever so slightly. "Don't overdo it next time," he muttered.

Before she could respond, his expression hardened again, and he turned to face the rest of the group. "As for the rest of you...Let's start with the obvious. What the hell were you all thinking?"

The group exchanged uneasy glances, none of them daring to speak first. Isabel, usually the first to chime in, kept her head down, suddenly fascinated with the crumbs on the table. Sasha attempted to shrink into her seat, while Ymir leaned back casually, though the slight twitch of her lips betrayed her amusement.

Levi's sharp gaze landed on Isabel. "You. Start talking."

Isabel winced, rubbing the back of her neck sheepishly. "Uh, well, it wasn't technically my fault—"

"It was absolutely your fault," Levi snapped, cutting her off. "You leaned on a railing that looked like it would collapse under a stiff breeze. Are you blind, or just stupid?"

Isabel opened her mouth, but Levi's glare silenced her instantly. He turned his attention to Sasha. "And you. What were you thinking, lunging after her like that? You could've fallen to your death."

Sasha swallowed hard, her hands twisting nervously in her lap. "I—I didn't really think, Captain. I just... reacted."

"That much is obvious," Levi muttered. "Next time, don't 'just react.' Think. Or better yet, let natural selection take its course."

That earned a muffled snort from Ymir, who quickly disguised it as a cough when Levi's eyes flicked toward her. "Something funny, Ymir?" he asked coldly.

"Not at all, Captain," Ymir replied, her voice dripping with mock sincerity.

Krista elbowed Ymir sharply, her expression horrified.

Levi's voice was deceptively calm, his words cutting like a blade. "Pull a stunt like that again, and I'll have you hanging from the rafters upside down and leave you there. Am I clear?"

The silence that followed was deafening. His gray eyes swept over the group like a blade, lingering on each of them just long enough to make their skin crawl.

"Am I clear?"

"Yes, sir!" the group chorused, their voices a mix of fear and resignation.

Sasha, ever the optimist, leaned toward Annie and whispered, "At least he didn't kill us."

"Yet," Annie muttered, earning a stifled laugh from Ymir. "I am not even part of Survey Corps."

As Mikasa pressed the ice pack against her shoulder, she stole a glance at Levi, who was standing a short distance away, his back turned as he poured himself a cup of tea. His stiff posture and the slight furrow in his brow said it all—he wasn't done with her yet.

She sighed inwardly, already anticipating the fallout. He's going to lecture me for a week about this. Her mind filled with the predictable cadence of his scolding: "Reckless. Irresponsible. Do you have a death wish? How do you expect to protect anyone if you rip your arm out of its socket holding up three idiots?"

She winced, not from the pain in her shoulder, but from the mental image of Levi pacing back and forth, arms crossed, sharp words cutting through her attempts to explain. She could almost hear him now, and a faint flush of embarrassment crept into her cheeks.

"Is the ice helping?" Krista asked softly from beside her, breaking her thoughts.

Mikasa nodded, masking her unease with a calm expression. "Yeah, it's fine."

But as Levi turned back toward the table, his gray eyes briefly locking onto hers, Mikasa knew she wasn't fine—not really. If anything, this was just the calm before the storm. She adjusted the ice pack and braced herself, fully aware that Levi's post-incident breakdown analysis would be as thorough as it was relentless.

....

The afternoon sunlight streamed through the barracks window, painting the room in soft golden hues. Mikasa sat on her bed, her shoulder throbbing faintly beneath the fresh bandage Levi had insisted she wear. He had ordered her to rest for the day, his tone leaving no room for argument. And for a while, she obeyed, sitting quietly with a book in her lap, though her mind kept drifting to the training grounds.

Her fingers drummed against the book cover as she glanced out the window. The muffled sounds of drills—the clanging of blades, the barked commands of instructors, the occasional laughter—called to her like a siren's song. She stood abruptly, grabbing her jacket. A little practice won't hurt. It's just one afternoon, she reasoned. Levi's not even leading the drills today.

As Mikasa stepped into the hallway, she moved quietly, hoping to avoid anyone who might report her disobedience. She turned a corner, the training grounds just ahead, when a familiar figure came into view.

Levi.

He stood casually leaning against the wall, arms crossed, his expression unreadable. His piercing gray eyes locked onto hers, and one brow quirked slightly, as if to say, Caught you.

Mikasa froze mid-step, her mind scrambling for an excuse. "Levi," she said, feigning nonchalance. "I was just... heading out for some air."

"Really?" Levi said, his tone dripping with skepticism. "The training grounds must have excellent air quality today."

Mikasa straightened her posture, determined to hold her ground. "My shoulder feels fine now. Resting all day isn't going to help. A little movement will loosen it up."

Levi pushed off the wall, taking a step closer. "Fine, huh?" His voice was calm, but the edge in his tone was unmistakable. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a handkerchief. Without a word, he let it slip from his fingers, the small square of fabric floating gently to the ground between them.

"Pick it up," he said simply.

Mikasa frowned, her brow furrowing in confusion. "What?"

"You heard me," Levi said, his expression as impassive as ever. "Pick it up."

"It's just a handkerchief," Mikasa said, crossing her arms. "You can pick it up yourself."

Levi tilted his head slightly, his sharp gaze never leaving hers. "Humor me."

Suppressing a sigh, Mikasa bent down to retrieve the handkerchief. As soon as she reached for it, a sharp jolt of pain shot through her injured shoulder. She winced involuntarily, her fingers hesitating just inches from the fabric.

Levi crouched smoothly, picking up the handkerchief himself. Straightening, he held it up between them, his expression one of quiet triumph. "Looks like your shoulder isn't as 'fine' as you thought."

Mikasa's jaw tightened, her pride taking a hit as she avoided his gaze. "It's not that bad," she muttered.

Levi folded the handkerchief neatly, tucking it back into his pocket. "Not that bad?" he repeated, his tone laced with sarcasm. "So, what's next? You throw yourself off another bridge just to prove a point?"

Mikasa scowled. "I'm not trying to prove anything. I just... can't sit around all day doing nothing."

Levi tsked, crossing his arms again. "You're not doing nothing. You're healing. Which, by the way, is harder to do if you're out there pretending to be invincible."

Mikasa opened her mouth to argue but stopped herself. The ache in her shoulder was a constant reminder that he wasn't entirely wrong. She sighed, relenting. "Fine. I won't go to the training grounds."

Levi's brow lifted slightly, as if he hadn't expected her to give in so easily. "Good," he said. "But if you think I'm leaving you alone to 'rest,' think again."

Mikasa frowned, her lips pressing into a thin line. "Can I at least go for a walk?"

Levi regarded her for a moment, his sharp eyes narrowing slightly as though weighing her request. "A walk," he repeated, his tone making it clear he wasn't entirely convinced. "And you're not planning to 'accidentally' detour to the drills?"

Mikasa rolled her eyes, the corner of her mouth twitching upward in faint amusement. "I'm not. Just a walk."

Levi sighed. "Fine. But I'm coming with you."

She raised a brow. "What, to supervise me?"

"Exactly," Levi replied without hesitation, his deadpan delivery making her stifle a laugh. He motioned for her to follow. "I'm headed to the training grounds anyway. Might as well make sure you don't find some other bridge to dangle off of."

Mikasa followed him, her shoulder aching faintly as they walked side by side. The path was quiet, the afternoon sun casting long shadows across the courtyard. Levi's pace was unhurried, his usual briskness tempered by something softer.

As they passed a group of recruits heading in the opposite direction, Levi's sharp gaze flicked toward them. The recruits straightened instinctively, murmuring hasty greetings before scurrying off. Mikasa couldn't help but smirk.

"They're terrified of you, you know," she said.

Levi replied without missing a beat. "Keeps them alive."

They walked in comfortable silence for a while, the training grounds coming into view. Levi stopped just short of the entrance, his sharp eyes turning to her again.

"This is where we part ways," he said firmly. "You're not setting foot in there today."

Mikasa sighed, nodding reluctantly. "I know."

"Good." Levi's voice softened slightly. "And if I catch you here later..."

"You'll chain me to a bed in the infirmary?" Mikasa finished for him, her tone teasing.

Levi smirked faintly, his gray eyes glinting. "Don't tempt me."

************FLASHBACK ENDS****************

By the time Sasha finished the story, the entire group was in stitches. Even Farlan and Gunther, who typically wore stoic expressions, were doubled over, wiping tears from their eyes.

"That," Oluo wheezed between laughs, pointing accusingly at Isabel, "has to be the dumbest thing I've ever heard. And it's all your fault?!"

Isabel, never one to take blame quietly, shot up defensively. "Hey! Don't pin this all on me! It wasn't my fault the bridge was made of twigs and bad decisions!"

"Oh, it was your fault," Sasha cut in, smirking as she reclined dramatically on the bench. "You leaned on the railing like it owed you money."

"Yeah," Jean added with a snort. "And Mikasa had to go full-on superhero to save you morons."

Mikasa, seated calmly at the edge of the table with her arms crossed, raised an eyebrow. "You're all still here. I'd call that a win."

"Spoken like a true hero," Ymir drawled, clapping Mikasa on the back with an exaggerated grin. "Holding three people mid-air with one arm? Honestly, if it weren't for the rest of us being complete disasters, you'd have no reason to show off."

"I wasn't showing off," Mikasa replied flatly, though the faintest glint of sarcasm touched her dark eyes. "If I was, Isabel would still be dangling."

"Hey!" Isabel yelped, scandalized, her cheeks flushing red as the group roared with laughter. "That's slander! I was a victim of circumstances!"

"You were a victim of your own stupidity," Mikasa muttered, deadpan as ever.

Petra, still giggling, leaned into Eld with a sigh. "I honestly can't believe Captain didn't murder all of you for that."

"Oh, he thought about it," Sasha chimed in, her voice dripping with mock dread. "You should've seen his face. It was like he was deciding whether to save us or let gravity do the dirty work."

"Wouldn't blame him," Jean muttered. "Natural selection's gotta step in sometime."

Sasha raising her cup like a toast. "To Mikasa. Our savior, our hero, and the only one who can keep us alive through our own stupidity."

"I'm not saving you next time," she said evenly, earning another round of cackles and protests from the group.

Isabel leaned toward her, eyes wide with faux betrayal. "You're joking, right? Right, Mikasa?"

Mikasa turned to her, expression blank. "You'll find out."

****************************

As the recruits recovered from their sparring session, their laughter echoing across the courtyard, Mikasa's gaze landed on Armin. He was tucked beneath a tree, his head bent over a thick book, utterly absorbed as if the world around him didn't exist.

"What's Armin doing?" Connie squinted, tilting his head. "Looks like he's trying to summon the gods or something."

"Probably planning how to save your sorry ass again," Jean muttered, though his faint smile betrayed him.

"Or hiding so he doesn't have to spar," Ymir said, her smirk widening.

Unable to resist, the group gravitated toward Armin like moths to a flame. He looked up, startled as they descended on him, clutching the book protectively as though they might rip it from his hands.

"Armin!" Sasha chirped, crouching next to him with the kind of energy that seemed illegal. "What's that? It looks... smart."

Armin's blue eyes lit up instantly, his excitement overriding any self-preservation. "It's The Wonders Beyond the Walls! It describes places you wouldn't believe." He flipped the book open, eager as ever. "Here—this is the ocean."

"The what now?" Connie blinked.

Armin turned the book around, showing an illustration of waves stretching endlessly under a bright sky. "It's a massive body of saltwater. You can't even see where it ends."

Krista's eyes widened. "It's beautiful. Do you think it's real?"

"It has to be," Armin said firmly. "There's so much we don't know outside the Walls. This book also talks about jungles—giant forests so thick the sunlight barely gets through."

"Sounds like Titan paradise," Jean deadpanned.

Armin ignored him, flipping pages. "And this... this is about talking Titans."

The group froze.

"Talking Titans?" Reiner repeated, incredulous. "Like, what do they say? 'Hello, I'd like to eat you politely'?"

"'Excuse me, sir, is this leg taken?'" Connie added, earning a snort from Sasha.

"Talking Titans," Armin insisted, though he looked sheepish. "It's just a theory. They could know things about humanity—about why Titans exist."

Before anyone could respond, Levi's voice cut through the conversation like a blade. "Am I interrupting, or is this a book club now?"

The recruits jumped, scattering slightly as if they'd been caught stealing. Armin, of course, was still seated, far too engrossed to realize Levi was standing right behind him.

"Armin," Jean hissed, nudging him. "Captain's here."

Armin looked up, his wide-eyed enthusiasm undiminished. "Captain! You have to see this—this book is incredible! Thank you so much for letting me read it!"

Levi's brow twitched. "I didn't give you that."

Armin blinked. "But Mikasa said you insisted I read it," he added, the word insisted slipping out with an almost innocent emphasis.

Levi's head turned sharply toward Mikasa, his glare as sharp as his blades. Mikasa, standing at the back of the group, didn't flinch. Instead, she tilted her head slightly, her expression calm, though the smallest, most infuriating smirk tugged at her lips. When Levi's glare intensified, she quickly turned her face away, hiding her amusement.

"Did she now?" Levi said, his voice so dry it could have sucked the moisture out of the air. His sharp eyes snapped back to Armin. "Don't get used to it, Arlert. I'm not running a damn library."

Despite the captain's tone, Armin beamed, clutching the book like it was the greatest treasure he'd ever held. "Thank you, Captain! This is amazing. It talks about the ocean—an entire body of saltwater stretching forever. Do you think it's rea—"

Levi cut him off with a raised hand. "You think I've been to the ocean, Arlert?"

Armin blinked. "Well... no. But the book also talks about talking Titans. It says they might be able to communicate or even think. If it's true, they might hold answers—about why Titans exist, or even how to stop them."

Levi didn't blink. "And did the book mention how to keep your neck from getting bitten off while you chat with them?"

Sasha stifled a giggle. "Inspirational words, Captain."

"Springer." Levi turned to Connie with zero hesitation. "Run laps."

Connie's jaw dropped. "What? I didn't even say anything!"

"You were going to," Levi replied flatly. "Go."

Grumbling under his breath, Connie trudged off, muttering something about injustice.

Jean snorted, trying (and failing) to hold back his laughter.

Levi's gaze flicked to him immediately. "Kirstein. Laps."

Jean sputtered. "Why me?!"

Levi didn't even blink. "Your existence annoys me."

The recruits erupted into laughter, Sasha and Ymir nearly doubled over.

"Welcome to the club, Jean-boy!" Connie shouted cheerfully as he jogged past.

Jean threw up his hands, turning to Mikasa for support—only to find her stifling a laugh behind her scarf.

"Oh, come on!" Jean spun toward her, pointing an accusatory finger. "Mikasa's laughing too! That's not fair!"

Mikasa blinked, her face instantly smoothing into an unreadable calm. The faintest trace of amusement lingered in her eyes, though she didn't say a word. She glanced at Jean trudging off, red-faced and muttering, and couldn't help but remember Levi's earlier irritation with Jean's obvious crush on her. It wasn't like Levi would ever admit it, but his annoyance back then—and now—was unmistakable.

Levi's gaze flicked briefly to her, one brow twitching in subtle acknowledgment. "Two more laps, Kirstein."

Jean groaned. "This has to be personal!"

"It is," Connie shouted back between breaths. "He said your existence annoys him!"

Levi let his gaze sweep the group one final time, cutting off any further complaints. "Anyone else?"

Silence.

"Good." Levi turned sharply, his cloak swaying as he started walking away. "Get back to work. If I catch anyone slacking again, I'll personally make sure you don't live long enough to see an ocean."

Armin called out quietly, "Thank you, Captain. Really. For letting me read this."

Levi paused for a fraction of a second, just long enough for Mikasa to catch the subtle softening of his expression. Without turning around, he muttered, "Take care of it, Arlert. That book's worth more than the lot of you."

As the group dispersed, Krista sidled up to Mikasa, her expression curious. "Captain Levi's not so bad, is he? Lending out books like that?"

"Yeah, Mikasa," Ymir teased with a sly grin. "What's your secret? Bribery?"

Before Mikasa could answer, Isabel smirked from the edge of the group. "Or maybe you've got other methods of persuasion."

Sasha snorted, her grin widening. "Yeah, Mikasa. Care to share?"

Mikasa shot them both a sharp look, her tone flat but edged with warning. "He thought Armin would benefit from reading it. That's all."

Isabel and Sasha exchanged knowing looks, but before they could push further, Levi's sharp voice rang out again from across the courtyard.

"Five more laps for anyone still talking!"

The group scattered instantly, leaving Mikasa to adjust her scarf and catch Levi's lingering glance out of the corner of her eye. He said nothing, but the faintest twitch of his lip told her he'd heard everything.

****************************

Levi strode into the research area, greeted by the familiar mix of acrid chemicals and burnt wood—Hange's signature scent of "progress." The frenzied energy from earlier had faded, replaced by the steady hum of murmurs and clinking glass.

Hange perched on a stool, scribbling in her notebook like her life depended on it, while Moblit organized vials with the precision of a man expecting something to explode. Eren sat cross-legged on a bench, half-asleep from exhaustion. Halsten stood a short distance away, arms folded and posture deceptively casual, though his eyes...

Levi's gaze sharpened. Halsten's stare was locked onto Eren—not curious, not impressed—just off. The kind of look that said, "I'm figuring out how to eat you for breakfast." Levi had seen it before in places no one wanted to remember.

"Hange," Levi said flatly, his voice slicing through the room like a blade. "A word."

"Mm? Captain Grumpy?" Hange didn't look up, scribbling furiously. "You're back already? Did the recruits run out of ways to disappoint you, or did you finally run out of insults?"

Levi ignored her jab, his voice dropping lower. "Where'd you find the new one?"

"New one?" Hange glanced up, pushing her glasses higher on her nose. "Oh, Halsten! He's a last-minute transfer from Trost's research division. Something about a paperwork mix-up. Why?"

Levi crossed his arms, his gaze flicking back to Halsten, who now looked suspiciously invested in a clipboard. "He stares at Eren like he expects him to sprout wings and take flight."

Hange blinked, following Levi's line of sight before waving him off. "He's just curious. It's Eren. The kid did turn into a Titan, remember? I mean, if I were him, I'd be staring too."

Levi's tone turned razor-sharp. "He's either too friendly or too stupid. I haven't decided yet."

"Maybe you're just jealous," Hange teased, grinning like she'd found her favorite toy. "He is prettier than you."

Levi deadpanned. "I'll be sure to weep about it later."

"Must be rough," Hange mused dramatically, "knowing you're only the second most interesting person in the room now. Mikasa's going to have to pick a new favorite soon."

Levi's eye twitched, a warning she ignored entirely. "And here I thought you'd stopped drinking paint."

"Paint is for amateurs, Captain," Hange quipped. "But you—you're definitely more prickly than usual. What gives? Halsten's harmless. He's just awkward."

"Nothing's harmless," Levi muttered darkly, his eyes narrowing as Halsten "casually" peeked at Eren for the third time.

"Halsten!" Hange shouted suddenly, nearly making Moblit drop a vial. "Quit gawking and go grab the supply list. Unless you're planning on testing Eren's Titan abilities with your mind."

Halsten startled, dropping his fake nonchalance like a hot coal. "Oh! Right. Sorry!" He stumbled off, his footsteps oddly uneven.

Levi watched him disappear through the doorway, his stare lingering just a second longer than necessary. "Spaced out, was he?"

Hange tilted her head with a sly grin. "You're laser-focused today, Levi. It's almost impressive. Except—" Her glasses glinted as she leaned forward, her smile downright wicked. "You know who else you get laser-focused around?"

Levi turned his glare on her, his voice low and full of warning. "Don't."

"Mikasa," Hange sing-songed, ignoring him completely. "You know, for someone who pretends to be all business, you sure look at her like—"

"Hange."

"Like you're not thinking about business."

"Hange." Levi's tone sharpened, but Hange only grinned harder.

"Admit it," she said, her grin turning conspiratorial. "Mikasa's got you wrapped around her little finger. You even let Armin borrow that book because she asked you to, didn't you? Be honest, Levi. It's a safe space."

Levi's glare could have leveled the entire building. "I don't know what's worse—the crap you invent in your head, or the fact you think I'd discuss it with you."

Hange clutched her chest, mock-offended. "Oh, come on! If you're going to be all broody and in love, at least let me enjoy it."

"I'm not in love," Levi snapped, his words clipped. "She's competent. That's it."

"Uh-huh." Hange nodded sagely, her grin wider than ever. "Competent enough to keep you from snarling at the rest of us for a whole day. Admit it, Captain, you're going soft."

Levi exhaled through his nose, pinching the bridge of it like he was regretting every life choice that led him here. "Hange, if you spent half as much time on your experiments as you do meddling in my life, we'd be done with Titans by now."

Moblit, ever the peacemaker, cleared his throat quietly. "Captain, uh... you do look at Mikasa a lot."

The air froze.

Levi's gray eyes snapped to Moblit, pinning him in place like a bug under glass. For a moment, Moblit looked as though he regretted every life choice that had led him to this exact second.

"Careful, Moblit," Levi said, his tone deceptively calm. "If you want to keep that tongue of yours, I suggest you don't use it to say stupid things."

Moblit paled, swallowing hard. "N-Noted, sir."

Hange cackled, nearly falling off her stool. "Oh, Levi. You're so fun when you're defensive."

Before Levi could respond, Halsten stumbled back into the room, holding the supply list like it might explode. Levi's eyes flicked to him, instantly killing the humor in the air. "Move," he ordered, stepping aside.

Halsten blinked, clearly intimidated. "Uh, yes, sir."

Levi's gaze lingered on him for just a moment longer, sharp and assessing. Then, as Halsten hurried away, he turned back to Hange.

"Keep an eye on him."

Hange, still grinning, saluted sloppily. "Aye aye, Captain Jealousy."

Levi ignored her completely, already heading for the door. But as he stepped out, Hange called after him, her voice echoing through the hallway.

"And tell Mikasa I said hi! You two have a lot to talk about!"

Levi paused just long enough to shoot her a glare over his shoulder. "I'll make sure you regret that, Four-Eyes."

Hange's laughter followed him down the hall.

****************************

The research area was steeped in tension, the acrid smell of scorched flesh lingering in the air as steam hissed from the Titan's exposed sinews. Eren clung desperately to the platform inside the nape, his breathing ragged and uneven. Sweat dripped down his brow as the massive form beneath him groaned, its movements jerky and uncontrolled.

"Jaeger," Levi barked, his voice sharp as a blade. "Focus. You're losing control again, get a grip before you burn yourself out."

"I'm trying!" Eren rasped, his voice strained, knuckles white where they gripped the Titan's flesh. "It's not listening. I can't—"

"Bullshit," Levi cut him off, his cold stare unwavering. "The only thing that Titan listens to is you. So figure it out, or it'll kill you first."

Hange, standing just outside the Titan's range, softened her voice. "Eren, listen. Don't think about the failure—focus on control. You've done this before. You can do it again."

Eren's breath hitched as he looked at her, wide-eyed. "What if I can't? What if it's not me controlling it? What if I'm just a weapon—waiting to destroy everything?"

A heavy silence fell over the room. The Titan groaned, its movements faltering, the glowing flesh flickering like a failing flame.

Levi stepped forward, his boots crunching softly against the ground. His tone dropped, low and dangerous. "If you're going to sit there and wallow in self-pity, Jaeger, then quit now. Being scared doesn't stop Titans. It doesn't save lives. It doesn't fix this mess we're in. You either take control, or you give up and prove everyone who doubted you right."

Eren's head jerked up, his breathing quickening, his jaw tightening. The Titan's twitching form mirrored his internal chaos.

At the edge of the room, Halsten lingered, arms crossed, his eyes locked on Eren. Something in his stillness—the way his gaze lingered just a moment too long—felt off. Levi's instincts prickled like a warning.

"Halsten," Levi snapped, his voice cutting through the air like a whip. "Quit standing there like an idiot."

Halsten blinked, as though startled. "Just observing, Captain."

"Don't. Get back to work," Levi said, his tone flat but edged with steel.

Halsten hesitated, then offered a thin smile and turned to a nearby table, fiddling with equipment. Levi's glare lingered for a beat too long before snapping back to Eren.

"Jaeger," Levi barked. "Five seconds to pull it together. One."

Eren's shoulders tensed. His breathing grew faster, more deliberate.

"Two."

The Titan's body shifted slightly, its glow stabilizing in faint bursts.

"Three."

Eren's grip firmed, his trembling starting to fade.

"Four."

The Titan stilled. Steam hissed, and the light within its body steadied, no longer wavering.

Levi lowered his hand, satisfied but unrelenting. "Good. Now get out of there before you collapse."

Eren nodded weakly, detaching himself from the Titan's nape and stumbling to the ground, his chest heaving. Hange was there in an instant, practically vibrating with relief and excitement.

"See? You did it!" she exclaimed, turning to Moblit. "Write that down—stabilization achieved after forced emotional focus!"

Levi ignored her enthusiasm. His sharp eyes drifted back to Halsten, who was still at the equipment table, his movements deliberate but unnecessary. Levi's unease hardened into suspicion.

Without turning his head, Levi muttered under his breath, just loud enough for Hange to hear. "Watch him."

Hange blinked, her expression faltering. "Halsten? Why?"

Levi's eyes narrowed. "Because he's not just watching Eren. He's waiting." Whatever was brewing under the surface, he'd find it out.

****************************

Chap 11 soon on Dec 11

I have finished writing the Arcs. I have got about 5 arcs after this planned. Chap 1 - 11 will mark the first one.

Chapter Text

The low hum of activity buzzed in the Survey Corps' HQ as Levi and Hange made their way through the winding halls toward Erwin's office. Hange walked with her usual energy, the faint clinking of her gear echoing with every step, while Levi maintained his steady, silent pace. The sun filtered through narrow windows, casting long beams of light that broke the otherwise cold, dim atmosphere.

The HQ was noticeably busier now than it had been in days. The recruits and senior members who had been training at the old HQ had returned the day before, bringing a renewed energy—and a palpable tension. With the expedition date looming closer, every movement carried a sense of urgency. Conversations were brisk, boots echoed down stone corridors, and the faint smell of oil and leather lingered from freshly maintained gear.

"Did he say what this was about?" Hange asked, glancing sideways at Levi as they approached the heavy oak door.

Levi shook his head, his expression unreadable. "Something about a visitor. That's all he mentioned."

"Great," Hange muttered, her curiosity mounting. "Probably just another MP here to complain about us breaking another law or smashing another building."

Levi's lips twitched in a ghost of a smirk. "Wouldn't be the first time."

Hange grinned. "Hey, we keep things interesting."

Levi shot her a side-eye as he pushed the door open. When they entered, Erwin was seated at his desk, a map of troop placements spread before him. He looked up from his work, his sharp blue eyes meeting theirs with practiced calm.

"You wanted to see us?" Levi asked, his tone clipped.

Erwin with his calm demeanor as steady as ever. "Good, you're here. Take a seat. We're expecting a visitor shortly."

Levi arched an eyebrow but said nothing as he took the chair nearest Erwin's desk. Hange flopped into her seat, leaning back with her legs crossed. "A visitor? Someone important enough to pull us off drills?"

Erwin leaned back slightly in his chair, his hands clasping in front of him. "Draven Callidus, the newly appointed Regional Commander for the Military Police, is coming to introduce himself."

Hange arched an eyebrow. "Regional Commander? We don't usually get visits from the MPs unless it's to deliver complaints about us destroying property or, you know, existing."

Levi crossed his arms, his gaze narrowing slightly. "What's the real reason he's coming? They don't send anyone to play nice with us, least of all someone at his rank."

Erwin's expression didn't waver. "Officially, he's making rounds to establish connections with the branches under his jurisdiction. He wants to meet key personnel and 'improve coordination.'" Erwin's tone held a faint edge of skepticism, though it was clear he didn't see Callidus's visit as an immediate threat. "It's not uncommon for someone in his position to want a better understanding of how the Survey Corps operates."

Hange snorted. "Since when does the Military Police care how we operate? Isn't their whole thing pretending we don't exist while taking credit for any successes we do manage?"

Erwin's lips quirked slightly, though the smile didn't reach his eyes. "Draven seems... different. From what I've heard, he's practical, disciplined, and ambitious. He may genuinely be interested in fostering better communication between our branches."

Levi let out a quiet, skeptical "Tch" but didn't comment further. Hange glanced at him, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. "Well, this should be interesting."

A knock at the door interrupted the conversation. Erwin straightened. "Come in."

The door opened, and Draven Callidus stepped inside, his boots clicking softly against the polished stone floor. He was tall and lean, with an air of calm confidence. His dark hair was neatly combed, and his Military Police uniform was pristine, his insignia gleaming under the pale light. His eyes were a deep gray, sharp and calculating, but his expression was neutral, even friendly.

"Commander Smith," Draven greeted with a slight bow of his head. His voice was smooth, his tone polite but firm. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you."

"Commander Callidus," Erwin replied, rising from his desk to offer a handshake. "Welcome to the Survey Corps HQ. Please, have a seat."

Draven accepted the handshake with a faint smile and took the chair across from Erwin's desk. His gaze flicked briefly to Levi and Hange, lingering just long enough to suggest interest without being intrusive.

"And you must be Captain Levi and Captain Hange," Draven said, nodding to each of them in turn. "I've heard much about your contributions to humanity's defense."

Levi's expression remained unreadable as he inclined his head slightly. "Commander."

Hange, ever the extrovert, offered a broad grin. "Good to meet you, Commander Callidus. What brings someone of your rank all the way out here to mingle with us lowly titan-chasers?"

Draven chuckled lightly, his posture relaxed but composed. "Hardly lowly. If anything, I've always admired the Survey Corps' bravery. Your work may not receive the recognition it deserves, but it's indispensable."

Hange raised her eyebrows in mock surprise. "Well, that's new. Most MPs can't even look at us without sneering."

Draven's smile didn't falter. "Let's just say I've seen enough to know where the real battles are fought."

Levi's gaze flicked to Erwin briefly before returning to Draven. "So, what's the point of this visit? You planning to start joining us on expeditions?"

Draven laughed softly, his tone warm. "Not quite, though I'd be lying if I said the thought doesn't intrigue me. I'm here to ensure better coordination between the branches. The Military Police and the Survey Corps may have different methods, but our goals should align."

Hange leaned forward, her curiosity piqued. "And what about us fascinates you most, Commander?"

Draven's expression turned thoughtful. "Your structure, for one. I've always been curious about the way your teams operate in the field—how you handle the extreme conditions. And, of course, I understand you have a particularly... unique recruit among your ranks." He paused, his gaze settling on Hange. "Ackerman, if I'm not mistaken?"

Hange blinked, her grin returning quickly. "Mikasa Ackerman, yes. One of our most promising recruits. Why the interest?"

Draven's smile remained steady, but his eyes sharpened ever so slightly. "The Ackerman name carries a certain... legacy, doesn't it? Strength, loyalty, resilience. It's rare to find someone with that combination."

Levi's eyes narrowed, his expression still neutral but his body subtly more alert. "She's a soldier. Nothing more, nothing less."

Draven met Levi's gaze, his smile unwavering. "Of course, Captain. I merely meant that individuals like her are what set the Survey Corps apart."

Erwin cleared his throat, steering the conversation back to neutral ground. "Commander Callidus, I appreciate your interest. If there's anything specific you'd like to discuss or observe during your visit, please let me know."

Draven inclined his head. "Thank you, Commander Smith. I'll keep that in mind. For now, I simply wanted to extend my support and ensure you know I'm available should you ever need assistance."

He rose to his feet, his movements fluid and deliberate. "It's been a pleasure meeting you all. I look forward to seeing how we can work together in the future."

Erwin stood as well, shaking Draven's hand again. "Likewise, Commander."

As Draven exited the room, Levi's gaze lingered on the door for a fraction of a second before turning back to Erwin. "Well, he's polished. Let's see how long that lasts."

Hange chuckled. "Come on, Levi, don't scare off our new best friend already."

Erwin didn't comment, his sharp eyes still fixed on the door where Draven had just departed. "We'll see."

****************************

The tension within the Survey Corps HQ was almost tangible, a quiet but persistent hum that settled into every corner of the fortress. Weeks before an expedition, the air was always thick with urgency, but this felt... different. Mikasa couldn't quite name it, but it pressed at the edges of her awareness like a shadow she couldn't fully see.

It began with the smallest details. During breakfast in the mess hall, the usual clatter of cutlery and low murmur of voices formed a backdrop to a conversation Mikasa couldn't help but overhear between Petra and Eld at the next table.

"The supply request for the new grappling hooks was only half-filled," Petra said, stirring her oatmeal with a frustrated frown. "Apparently, the rest got lost in transit."

"Again?" Eld raised an eyebrow, his tone incredulous. "That's the third time in two months. What's going on with logistics?"

Farlan, seated nearby, chimed in with a half-hearted shrug. "Probably some lazy MP clerks. They've got a real talent for losing things, especially when it's for us."

Petra sighed, resting her chin in her hand. "It's not just grappling hooks. The rations we ordered for the expedition arrived late last week, and half of them were spoiled. Hange nearly lost it when she found out."

"Wouldn't want to be the poor bastard who told her," Eld muttered, though his attempt at humor didn't mask the concern in his voice.

Mikasa didn't join the conversation, but her unease deepened. Supplies being delayed wasn't unheard of, especially when the Military Police were involved, but so close to an expedition, it was rare. The logistical system, though often frustrating, usually held together when the stakes were this high.

Across the table, Armin sat quietly, his oatmeal untouched, his brow furrowed as he pretended to read the book resting on his lap. Mikasa recognized the look—it was the one he wore when he was piecing together fragments of a puzzle.

"Armin," she said quietly, breaking into his thoughts.

He looked up, startled, before his expression softened. "You heard that, right?" he asked in a low voice.

She nodded, her tone equally hushed. "Supplies going missing, spoiled rations... it's too much to be coincidence."

Armin nodded slowly, his gaze distant as he spoke. "If it were just one or two delays, I'd chalk it up to incompetence. But three in two months? And with the expedition this close?" He shook his head. "It feels deliberate."

Mikasa's lips pressed into a thin line as her eyes flicked toward the senior members at the next table. Petra and Eld had moved on to another topic, their tones lighter now, but the earlier conversation lingered in her mind.

"We should keep an eye on it," she said simply, her tone firm.

Armin didn't argue. Instead, he picked up his spoon and took a small bite of his oatmeal, though it was clear his thoughts were elsewhere. His notebook, tucked into the folds of his jacket, seemed to weigh heavier now.

Later that day, during training drills in the yard, the usual hum of focused activity was broken by occasional sharp commands and the rhythmic hiss of ODM gear being tested. Mikasa's attention, however, was drawn to a group of newer recruits. She hadn't seen them before—transfers, she assumed, as reinforcements often arrived ahead of expeditions. But something about them felt... off.

The group stood slightly apart from the other soldiers, speaking in low tones during breaks. Their uniforms, though clean and regulation-perfect, looked oddly untouched—missing the wear and scuffs of soldiers accustomed to hard fieldwork. Their drills, while competent, lacked the fluidity and instinctive precision she'd come to expect from the Survey Corps.

During one drill, a tall, broad-shouldered man with a patchy beard struggled to calibrate his ODM gear, the lines tangling as he fumbled with the mechanisms. Gunther, standing nearby, stepped in to help, his expression a mix of surprise and mild irritation.

"Shouldn't you know how to do this already?" Gunther asked, his voice not unkind but firm.

The recruit chuckled nervously, scratching the back of his neck. "Yeah, uh... been a while since I've had to fix one of these. Must be rusty."

Gunther's expression tightened slightly, his brow furrowing. "You sure you've used this gear before?"

The man nodded quickly, his chuckle turning into a nervous cough. "Of course. Just need to get the hang of it again."

Gunther didn't push further, but Mikasa, observing from a short distance, caught the flicker of doubt in his expression. A transfer from the Military Police should have been proficient with ODM gear—it was basic training, regardless of their division. Even if their fieldwork wasn't as intensive as the Survey Corps', this kind of fumbling wasn't normal.

During a water break, Armin approached her, his notebook tucked under his arm. He leaned against the wall beside her, his sharp blue eyes flicking toward the group of recruits. "You noticed them too, didn't you?" he asked quietly.

Mikasa nodded, her gaze still fixed on the recruits. "They're sloppy."

Armin opened his notebook, pretending to jot something down as he continued in a low voice. "Commander Erwin mentioned them this morning. They're transfers from the Military Police—volunteers, supposedly."

Mikasa's frown deepened. The Military Police were infamous for avoiding danger, preferring the safety and politics of life within the Walls. The idea of them volunteering for the Survey Corps was almost laughable. "Why now?" she asked, her tone skeptical. "Why transfer right before an expedition?"

Armin shook his head, his voice dropping further. "I don't know. Commander Erwin only said they were approved. But..." He hesitated, glancing down at his notebook. "I overheard Petra and Gunther earlier. They said one of the recruits didn't even know basic field protocols."

Mikasa's jaw tightened. Her instincts, honed by years of survival and combat, churned with unease. "Keep watching them," she said finally, her voice low but resolute. "And let me know if you hear anything else."

That evening, as Mikasa cleaned her gear in the barracks, hushed voices caught her attention.

"Did you hear about the MPs at Trost?" one whispered, his tone laced with disbelief. "They've been running drills—actual drills. Since when do they care about field readiness?"

"Maybe they're finally realizing Titans don't care about fancy uniforms," the other recruit snorted.

"Or maybe it's something else," the first muttered. "Rumor is they've been getting tighter with security too—interrogations, supply inspections. Feels like they're gearing up for something."

Mikasa's hands paused mid-motion. The MPs were infamous for their complacency. For them to adopt a proactive stance was alarming. Combined with everything else, it felt like a pattern—one she couldn't yet decipher.

Later, she found Armin in the main hall, his notebook spread between them as they pieced together the fragments. The new recruits, the delayed supplies, the MPs in Trost, Commander Erwin's suspicion of some people infiltrating their ranks—it was all connected. The question was: how?

****************************

The corridors of the Survey Corps HQ were quiet, wrapped in the kind of stillness that followed a long day of drills and planning. The steady rhythm of Levi's boots echoed faintly through the halls, a sound that felt louder against the weight in his mind.

Draven Callidus.

The man hadn't said much, but his words stuck like a splinter. Calm, polished, too poised—everything you'd expect from someone swimming in the politics of the Military Police. And yet...

"The Ackerman name carries a certain legacy, doesn't it? Strength, loyalty, resilience."

It was subtle, deliberate—like he was probing. Levi didn't like that.

Pushing open the door to his quarters, Levi stepped inside. The hinges creaked faintly, the only sound breaking the sterile quiet of his room. It was as it always was—immaculate, no signs of intrusion—but the unease in his chest refused to settle.

Dropping his gear onto the table, Levi sank into the chair by the window. The pale glow of the setting sun spilled across the stone floor, carving shadows into the sparse interior. His gaze drifted, but his mind kept looping back—back to that single comment and all it stirred.

Kenny's face.

Levi could still see it: that grin, sharp and mocking. Kenny Ackerman. His name had carried weight in the Underground, a shadow that lingered long after he disappeared. The man had been a mentor, of sorts—teaching Levi to fight, to kill, to survive. But Kenny had also been a ghost, one who left more questions than answers.

"Strength's in the blood, kid," Kenny had once told him, his voice like gravel.

Levi hadn't cared about those words then. Blood didn't matter in the Underground—strength did. Legacy didn't keep you alive when blades flashed in the dark, and sentiment didn't fill an empty stomach.

And yet... Mikasa.

The first time he'd seen her fight, something in her movements had struck him—a precision, an instinct that felt familiar. He hadn't lingered on it then, brushing it off as her skill, her discipline. But now, Draven's words had cracked something open, like an itch he couldn't scratch.

Why the interest in the Ackerman name?

Levi's fingers drummed absently against the armrest. If Draven's curiosity went deeper, if it tied to the rebellion festering in the Underground, then it was trouble. Levi had heard the whispers, seen the subtle shifts—the kind that came before an eruption. It wouldn't be long before Erwin sent him back down there. He was the obvious choice.

Reaching for the old, worn map of the Underground on his desk, Levi unfolded it carefully. His sharp eyes traced the pathways etched into his memory—the narrow alleys, dead ends, and hollow places that had shaped him. If Draven's interest was tied to something bigger, Levi needed to be ready.

The name Ackerman didn't matter to him. Legacy was just a word. What mattered was survival.

****************************

The warm glow of the setting sun streamed through the small window in Mikasa and Sasha's shared room. Sasha lay sprawled across her bed like a starfish, dramatically tugging on her boots as if the task required an Olympic effort. Meanwhile, Mikasa stood by the mirror, meticulously adjusting her scarf with far too much focus for a routine evening.

Sasha's eyes narrowed suspiciously, her grin already creeping into place. "You're not coming to dinner, are you?"

Mikasa's hands paused for half a second before she resumed adjusting the scarf, her voice neutral. "I'll be there... later. I just need to handle something first."

Sasha snorted, sitting up so fast she nearly fell off the bed. "Oh, please. By 'something,' you mean Captain Levi."

Mikasa froze, just slightly, before turning with the flattest stare humanly possible. "What are you talking about?"

"Oh, don't play dumb," Sasha said, wagging a finger as though she'd solved the mystery of the century. "You've got that look. The 'I'm-not-sneaking-off-but-I'm-definitely-sneaking-off' look."

"I don't have a look."

"You do." Sasha pointed accusingly. "Same look you had last week before you mysteriously 'needed to reorganize the storage closet' for three hours. Just admit it."

"I'm not sneaking off to see anyone," Mikasa replied smoothly, though the faintest pink betrayed her cheeks.

Sasha leaned forward, her grin spreading wider. "Sure. And I'm the Queen of Wall Sina. Let me guess—you're off to polish your gear? Sharpen your blades? Very urgent. Very private. Very... Captain-supervised."

Mikasa's death glare could've leveled a forest. "Are you done?"

"Not even close," Sasha chirped, swinging her legs off the bed with renewed energy. "I'm just saying, Mikasa, if you're going to sneak off, at least put some effort into the cover story. Maybe say you're 'checking the perimeter' or 'reviewing formations.' You sound like Jean when he lies about 'not staring at you.'"

Mikasa turned back to the mirror, her scarf tugged a little tighter than necessary. "You're imagining things."

Sasha gasped, clutching her chest with exaggerated horror. "Imagining things? Me? Oh no, I'll definitely believe you're headed for 'Survey Corps business.' Business that just so happens to involve Captain Cravat. Alone. In his office."

Mikasa's blush deepened as she grabbed her cloak. "You're insufferable."

"Hey, I'm just helpful." Sasha smirked wickedly. "Go ahead and sneak off. I'll cover for you—because that's what best friends do. But, uh..." She leaned in as Mikasa passed, voice dropping to a mischievous whisper. "Maybe keep it quick. We don't want people wondering why you're limping tomorrow."

Mikasa froze mid-step, her fingers tightening around the cloak as she shot Sasha a glare that could pierce Titan hide.

Sasha immediately cackled, throwing her hands up in mock surrender. "Relax! Relax! I'm kidding. Mostly."

Mikasa exhaled sharply, throwing her cloak over her shoulders as she stormed toward the door.

The door shut a little harder than necessary behind Mikasa.

Sasha fell back onto her bed, grinning like the devil herself. "She's so predictable."

****************************

Mikasa slipped into the stables, her steps quick and deliberate. The dying sunlight bled gold across the walls, but her chest tightened as her gaze swept over the empty stalls. Levi's horse was missing. Did I miss him?

"Tch. I figured you'd pull something like this."

Levi's voice cut through the quiet like a blade. Mikasa spun sharply to see him outside, perched atop his horse, silhouetted against the fading light. He looked annoyingly relaxed, reins loose in one hand, the other resting on his thigh. His gaze locked onto hers, and she caught the faintest flicker of amusement.

"You're late," he remarked flatly.

"You're still here," she countered, stepping closer.

Levi raised an eyebrow. "What tipped you off? The giant animal I'm sitting on?"

Mikasa ignored the jab and squared her shoulders. "I'm coming with you."

Levi tilted his head, slow and deliberate, like he was trying to figure out if she'd hit her head recently. "No, you're not."

"Yes, I am."

"You do realize this isn't a scenic ride, right? No picnics. No pastries."

"I wasn't expecting pastries," she shot back, already reaching for her own horse.

Levi sighed, his exasperation written all over his face. "Mikasa, you can't just decide to tag along. I'm heading into town for work. You'll slow me down."

She tightened the saddle with practiced efficiency. "Then I'll help."

"I don't need help," Levi muttered, watching her mount her horse in one clean motion.

"You're wasting time," she replied smoothly, pulling her hood up as she nudged her horse forward. "Let's go."

Levi stared at her, unimpressed, one hand brushing through his hair as though trying to rub away the headache she'd just caused. "You're not even pretending to ask anymore?"

"No." She urged her horse closer to his, her hood shadowing her face.

"Very sneaky," Levi muttered, dry as sand. "You're practically invisible now."

"It's practical," Mikasa replied coolly. "No one needs to know I'm leaving with you."

Levi snorted softly. "Brilliant. No one will ever recognize the person who insists on wearing a damn scarf in the middle of summer."

Mikasa turned her head just enough to glare at him under her hood. "You're still wearing that permanent scowl. Should I point that out, too?"

Levi's lips twitched, a ghost of a smirk cracking his otherwise stoic face. "Fair point."

The two rode toward the gate, Levi's posture radiating his usual indifference, while Mikasa kept her head low, her hood hiding her features. The soldiers on duty barely glanced their way—Levi's mere presence was enough to keep anyone from asking questions.

Once they passed the gate and hit open road, Levi broke the silence, his voice low but edged with sarcasm. "You're lucky I'm in a good mood."

Mikasa glanced at him, a hint of a smile tugging at her lips. "Sure, we'll go with that."

Levi rode slightly ahead, his posture impeccable, reins held loosely in one hand. Mikasa followed just behind, her hood still casting shadows over her face. The soft rhythm of their horses' hooves on the dirt road filled the silence, broken only by the occasional whisper of wind through the tall grass.

"You didn't tell me where we're going," Mikasa said finally, urging her horse a little closer.

Levi's gaze remained on the road ahead. "Didn't think you'd care."

"I don't," she replied evenly, a slight smirk tugging at her lips. "But wandering aimlessly doesn't suit you."

"Tch." Levi shot her a brief glance, the corner of his mouth twitching. "You'll see."

They continued in comfortable silence, the fading sunlight painting the plains in deep orange and soft purple. Mikasa's eyes traced the horizon—empty stretches of land broken by the occasional silhouette of trees—but Levi's horse suddenly veered off the main path, taking a narrow trail that wound between gentle hills.

Mikasa frowned. "Where are you—"

"Just keep up," Levi cut her off, his tone firm but not unkind.

Curiosity piqued, Mikasa followed without question. The path rose gently, the horses' hooves quieter now against the grass. The higher they climbed, the more the world seemed to spread out around them—the sprawling plains fading into shadow as the sun dipped lower, the sky ablaze in hues of crimson and gold.

Levi reined his horse to a stop near the crest of a hill, sliding off with practiced ease. Mikasa followed suit, dismounting silently as her gaze lifted to the view before her.

The sun hung low, its fiery glow spilling across the landscape, illuminating the stretch of wildflowers that danced in the cool evening breeze. In the distance, the walls of the town were faint outlines against the softening light, forgotten amidst the breathtaking expanse of open sky.

Levi stepped forward, hands tucked in his pockets as he glanced at her. "I come here sometimes. It's quiet."

Mikasa turned to him, her expression unreadable but her voice soft. "Is this why you let me come?"

Levi didn't respond immediately, his gaze fixed on the horizon. The fading sunlight caught on the sharp angles of his face, softening them just a little. "Figured you'd appreciate it."

Mikasa blinked, surprised at the admission. She turned back to the view, the wind tugging gently at her scarf. "It's... beautiful."

The corner of Levi's mouth twitched faintly, like he was satisfied with her answer. "Don't get used to me being this generous."

Mikasa huffed softly, a small smile playing at her lips. "I wasn't planning to."

Silence fell again, but this time it was easy, filled with the sounds of rustling grass and distant birds settling in for the night. Mikasa allowed herself to relax, her eyes fixed on the sky as the colors deepened and the first stars began to emerge.

Levi shifted beside her, breaking the stillness. "You're quieter than usual. Regretting sneaking out?"

"Not at all." Mikasa glanced at him, her gaze steady. "You've been hiding this place."

"I don't hide anything," Levi replied dryly, though the faintest smirk betrayed him. "I just don't bring brats here."

Mikasa shot him a look. "You're making exceptions now?"

"Must've hit my head earlier," Levi muttered, though there was no bite in his words.

They stood side by side, the space between them narrowing as the breeze carried the quiet hum of the evening. Mikasa's voice broke the stillness, low and thoughtful. "Why now?"

Levi looked at her, his expression unreadable. "There wasn't a chance before." He turned back to the horizon, his voice dropping slightly. "You should see something other than walls and blood."

Mikasa blinked, her heart giving the faintest tug at the unexpected sentiment. She looked back at the fading sunset, the world painted in a quiet, peaceful glow.

"Thank you," she said quietly.

Levi didn't answer right away. Instead, he reached out suddenly, his fingers brushing against hers before tangling them together with deliberate intent. Mikasa blinked, momentarily startled, though she didn't pull away.

"You're being bold," she said quietly, though her voice betrayed no protest.

Levi's grip was firm but casual, as if he'd done it a hundred times before. "Just evening the score. You've been bold since the moment you invited yourself here."

Mikasa let a small huff escape, though her thumb brushed lightly against his calloused knuckle. "You didn't stop me."

Levi's smirk widened just a fraction, his tone daring as he murmured, "Maybe I wanted you to come."

The words settled between them, hanging in the air like a challenge she couldn't ignore. Mikasa glanced at him, her dark eyes meeting his unwavering gaze. "You should say that more clearly next time."

Levi leaned in just slightly, his voice dropping to a low murmur. "You understood me just fine."

For a moment, the world fell silent except for the soft hum of the wind and the distant calls of birds settling for the night. Levi's fingers squeezed hers gently before he pulled away, stepping back toward his horse as if nothing had happened.

"Let's go. Town's waiting," he said, voice smooth and unreadable once more.

Mikasa lingered a moment longer, watching him with faint amusement. "You're hiding this place like a secret."

"Not anymore," Levi replied, climbing back into the saddle. "But if you tell Isabel about this, I'll throw you off the next hill."

Mikasa simply chuckled softly as she made her way to her horse.

The streets of the town were alive with energy—a stark contrast to the quiet halls of the Survey Corps HQ. Merchants shouted over one another, carts clattered against the cobblestones, and the faint scent of rain lingered in the cool air.

Levi and Mikasa navigated the crowd, Levi's sharp gaze sweeping the scene while his posture remained infuriatingly casual. Mikasa trailed close beside him, her hood drawn low, her steps quiet but purposeful.

"You're staring," Levi muttered, his voice dry and low enough that only she could hear.

"I'm watching," Mikasa corrected, her tone calm.

Levi scoffed. "With the charm of a hawk before it dives for the kill."

"And you've got the subtlety of a stray cat on a food hunt," she shot back without missing a beat.

Levi's smirk was faint, but unmistakable. "At least stray cats know when to stay out of the way."

"I'm not in your way," Mikasa replied smoothly. "I'm accompanying you."

"Right." Levi's tone dripped sarcasm. "You're practically my shadow."

Mikasa didn't dignify that with a response, though the faint twitch at the corner of her mouth gave her away. Levi clicked his tongue, tilting his head toward a narrow alley that opened into a quieter part of the market. "Keep up."

"I am."

"Barely."

Mikasa shot him a sideways glare as they slipped out of the busiest part of the crowd. The marketplace quieted slightly, and Levi gestured at a faded shop nestled between two larger buildings. "Wait here."

"Why?" Mikasa asked, her arms folding instinctively as she turned to face him.

"Because I said so." Levi handed his horse's reins to a stablehand, his sharp gaze flicking over her. "And don't wander."

Before Mikasa could reply, he smirked faintly, the look infuriatingly smug. "Unless you plan to get lost. Sasha's been telling everyone you're directionally challenged."

Mikasa narrowed her eyes. "I'm not—"

Levi cut her off, his smirk deepening, the faintest edge of mischief creeping into his tone. "Careful. If Isabel hears that, she'll say you only know how to find your way to my room."

Mikasa froze, her cheeks heating faintly despite the cold air. "That's—"

"Not denying it?" Levi drawled, his tone laced with mock innocence. "Thought so."

He turned, striding toward the shop without looking back. She huffed softly and handed her horse over before wandering a short distance toward the nearby stalls.

The market buzzed quietly here, the vibrant displays less chaotic but no less colorful. Mikasa stopped at a table overflowing with scarves, her fingers brushing one of the soft fabrics absentmindedly. Before she could move on, a flash of red caught her eye—a small girl's hat tumbling across the cobblestones in the wind.

Mikasa bent to retrieve it just as a giggling child bounded toward her. The girl's face lit up the moment their eyes met. "Wow, you're so pretty!"

Mikasa blinked, momentarily caught off guard. A small, genuine smile curved her lips as she handed the hat back. "Thank you."

The girl beamed as she clutched it to her chest and scampered back to her family. Mikasa watched them for a moment—the father adjusting the hat on his daughter's head with a fond chuckle, the younger child clinging to his leg with laughter that carried softly in the air.

Mikasa's smile softened, but a faint sting of bittersweet nostalgia tightened her chest. The memory of her own family, her little sister's laughter, and the warmth of her parents' love surfaced like a fleeting shadow. Her fingers brushed the scarf at her neck, the familiar texture grounding her even as the emotions swelled within her.

The sound of boots on stone startled her out of it, and suddenly, Levi was there, standing closer than she'd expected. Before she could speak, his hand found hers—rough, steady, and deliberate.

"You're staring again," Levi said, his voice low, the sharp edge tempered by something quieter.

Mikasa blinked, glancing down at their joined hands before looking back up at him. "You're sneaky," she muttered, though she didn't pull away.

"Comes with practice." Levi's thumb brushed her knuckles absently, a barely-there gesture that made her pulse skip. "They remind you of something."

Mikasa's eyes flicked back to the family for a brief second before returning to his steady gaze. "They do."

Levi didn't look away. "The past stays where it is. But you don't have to stay with it." His voice was low but firm, almost grounding. "It doesn't mean you stop looking ahead."

She searched his expression, finding no pity—just quiet understanding, the kind only he could offer. Her fingers tightened slightly against his, the warmth of his hand steadying her.

"I know," she said softly.

Levi held her gaze for a moment longer, something unreadable in his gray eyes before he smirked faintly, the edge of his usual snark creeping back. "You're clingy tonight, Mikasa. Should I start charging you for my company?"

Mikasa's lips quirked into the faintest smile. "You couldn't afford me."

Levi huffed a soft laugh, letting go of her hand but brushing his fingers lightly against hers as he stepped back. "Come on," he muttered, nodding toward the alley. "I'm not dragging you back if you lose track of me."

Mikasa fell into step beside him, her scarf rustling in the breeze as they walked. "You wouldn't have to."

"I'd consider it," Levi replied dryly, shooting her a glance. "Depending on how much you annoyed me."

Mikasa tilted her head, her tone calm but teasing. "I thought you said I was clingy. Make up your mind, Captain."

Levi scoffed, though the smirk remained. "Tch. I liked you better when you didn't talk this much."

...

The steady rhythm of the rain painted the town in shades of gray, the streets emptying as the storm settled in. Mikasa stood under the awning where Levi had left her, the light patter against the wooden beams filling the silence. She watched rivulets form on the cobblestones, winding like tiny rivers toward the gutter.

A breeze carried the cool rain against her cheeks, and without hesitation, Mikasa stepped forward, letting the droplets splash against her skin. She pulled her hood back, tilting her face up to meet the downpour. Damp strands of hair clung to her cheeks and forehead, but she didn't care. For the first time in days—maybe weeks—her chest felt lighter, as though the rain could wash away all the unspoken weight she carried.

The thunder rolled again, a low hum that reverberated through the air. Mikasa took another step, boots splashing softly against the wet stone as the rain soaked into her cloak.

The sound of footsteps splashing toward her broke her peace.

"What the hell are you doing?" Levi's voice cut through the rain, edged with exasperation but not quite sharp.

Mikasa turned her head, rain trailing down her face, to see him standing a few steps away. His dark cloak was damp at the edges, strands of black hair clinging to his forehead. The sight almost pulled a laugh from her, but she held it back.

"Enjoying the rain," she replied simply, her voice calm, serene.

Levi stared at her like she'd lost her mind. "You're going to get sick." He gestured vaguely to the rain. "Do you think we have time for that?"

Mikasa raised a brow, unbothered by his tone. "It's just rain." She stepped closer, reaching out to lightly grab his wrist. "You should try it."

Levi looked down at her hand, his expression incredulous. "You're seriously telling me to stand in the rain like an idiot?"

"It's not idiotic." Her lips quirked faintly. "It's refreshing."

He scoffed, muttering under his breath. "Refreshing my ass."

But Mikasa tugged his wrist gently, just enough to make her point. Levi exhaled sharply, clearly debating with himself for a moment before his shoulders dropped in quiet defeat. "Tch. Fine."

He stepped forward into the rain, the downpour immediately soaking his cloak. Beads of water traced the sharp lines of his face, and his usual rigid posture made it clear he wasn't giving in without protest. Arms crossed, he fixed her with an unimpressed stare.

"Happy now?"

Mikasa couldn't hold back the soft laugh that escaped her, light and fleeting as the rain itself. "It's not so bad, is it?"

Levi's scowl faltered slightly, though his voice stayed dry. "Not bad until you remember you're cold, soaked, and standing in a storm for no good reason."

"You're always so dramatic," Mikasa teased, stepping closer.

Levi gave her a sharp look, but the faint twitch of his lips betrayed him. "And you're always such a pain in the ass."

The rain quieted slightly around them, turning softer. For a moment, neither of them spoke, their breathing mingling with the soft patter of droplets against stone. Mikasa tilted her head back again, letting the rain cool her cheeks, her expression unguarded and calm.

Levi's gaze lingered on her, the storm softening her sharp edges into something quieter—something he didn't see often. He wouldn't say it aloud, but there was something about watching her stand there, unbothered and peaceful, that held him still.

Finally, Levi stepped closer, breaking the quiet. "That's enough." His voice was lower now, less exasperated. He reached out, his fingers curling firmly around hers. "Get inside."

Mikasa blinked, surprised by the warmth of his hand in hers. She didn't resist as he tugged her gently back toward the awning, the moment lingering as the rain ran down their joined hands.

Inside, Levi led her into the shelter of a small, empty building, where he let go of her hand only to shake water from his sleeves with brisk, efficient movements.

"You stayed out longer than I thought," Mikasa said lightly, mischief glinting faintly in her eyes.

Levi gave her a flat look as he smoothed his cloak. "Don't push it."

Her smile widened ever so slightly. "You followed me into the rain."

"I must be losing my edge," he muttered, though his tone lacked its usual bite.

The scent of damp wood and stale air greeted them as they stepped inside. The room was dimly lit, the storm's gray light filtering through narrow, dust-streaked windows. The sound of rain softened here, a muted drumbeat against the roof and walls.

Levi shrugged off his sodden cloak, shaking it out with practiced efficiency before hanging it over the back of a chair. Mikasa followed suit, carefully wringing out her scarf before sitting down on a creaky wooden bench. The space felt abandoned—dust on the floorboards, an empty counter where a shopkeeper might have once stood.

Lightning flashed outside, casting fleeting shadows across Levi's face as he leaned against the wall, arms crossed. For a moment, the only sound was the storm, broken only by the occasional shift of the wood beneath their boots.

"I hate storms," Levi said suddenly, his voice cutting through the stillness.

Mikasa glanced up, surprised at his tone. "Why?"

Levi didn't look at her. His gaze stayed fixed on the floor, his voice quieter now, threaded with something darker. "They remind me of the Underground. Flooding was common. Rats drowned. People drowned." He paused, jaw tightening. "The smell was the worst. Stagnant water and rotting bodies. You didn't forget it."

He shook his head slightly, as though shaking the memories off with it. "It wasn't pretty."

Mikasa watched him carefully, her gaze softening, but she didn't press further. Instead, she looked toward the rain-streaked window, her voice calm and even. "I used to be scared of storms too. When I was little. I thought the thunder would break the house apart."

Levi's eyes flicked toward her, sharp but curious. "And now?"

"Now it's just noise." Mikasa's gaze remained on the storm outside, her fingers brushing absently against the bench. "But sometimes... it reminds me of things I'd rather forget."

For a moment, Levi didn't respond. The faint glow of lightning lit the space again, its harsh light softening as quickly as it came.

"You're not in the Underground anymore," Mikasa said quietly, her words meant for him, though she didn't turn to look.

Levi's gaze lingered on her profile before he replied, his voice low. "And you're not in that house."

She turned to face him, and their eyes met—no pity exchanged, just quiet understanding. Shared burdens they didn't need to spell out.

"I guess we both made it out," Mikasa murmured, the faintest trace of a smile curving her lips.

Levi's lips twitched faintly in return—not quite a smile, but close. "Yeah. We did."

After a moment, Levi pushed off the wall and crossed the room, sitting beside her on the bench. His forearms rested on his knees, his posture less guarded than usual. The small space between them seemed to shrink, shoulders almost brushing.

Mikasa broke the silence, her voice soft but direct. "Do you ever get tired of it?"

Levi turned his head, brow furrowing slightly. "Tired of what?"

"The expectations," she said simply. "Being 'Humanity's Strongest.' Doesn't it ever feel... heavy?"

Levi exhaled through his nose, staring at the floor as his jaw tensed. "It's not about what I feel. It's about what needs to be done."

"That's not what I asked," Mikasa pressed gently, her tone steady but insistent.

Levi's lips thinned into a line. "It doesn't matter. Someone has to carry it. Better me than someone who can't." He paused, voice quieter now. "People died under my watch. I think about it—what I could've done differently. Doesn't change a damn thing."

Mikasa watched him for a long moment, her voice soft but resolute. "You don't have to carry it alone."

Levi's gaze flicked to her, unreadable, though something in his eyes sharpened. "I'm used to it. It's easier that way."

"But it doesn't have to be." Mikasa's voice didn't waver. "You have people who care about you. People who will stand with you, no matter what."

Levi snorted softly, though the sound lacked its usual edge. "You sound awfully sure of yourself."

"I am." Her gaze stayed steady on his. "You're not as alone as you think."

Levi didn't respond immediately, the weight of her words hanging between them. Outside, the storm continued, the rain blurring the world beyond the windows into streaks of gray. Finally, he leaned back slightly, his shoulders relaxing just a fraction.

"Lonely at the top," he muttered, almost to himself.

"Then let someone stand with you," Mikasa replied quietly.

Levi turned his head toward her again, his gaze lingering this time, as though searching for something unspoken. The steady sound of rain filled the silence that followed, and for a moment, neither of them moved.

"Mikasa."

She looked up. "What?"

For a beat, Levi hesitated, his gray eyes shadowed. "You ever think about what comes next?"

Mikasa frowned slightly, thrown off by the question. "Next?"

"After all this," Levi clarified, gesturing vaguely at the storm outside. "Titans. Fighting. If we actually make it to the end... then what?"

The question hung between them, unexpected. Levi wasn't the type to dwell on hypotheticals. If he was asking, it meant the thought had been lingering, gnawing at the edge of his mind.

"I haven't thought that far," Mikasa admitted, glancing down at her hands. "It's hard to, when every day feels like a fight just to survive."

Levi shifted beside her, his knee brushing against hers—deliberate or not, it grounded her. "You should. We both should."

The quiet intensity in his voice pulled her attention back to him. He was looking at her now, his sharp gaze unwavering.

"You're one of the strongest people I've ever met," Levi said, his voice softer but firm. "But strength doesn't mean shit if you don't have something to live for."

Mikasa's chest tightened at his words. She held his gaze, searching for what he wasn't saying. "And you? What do you live for, Levi?"

He didn't answer immediately. His hand shifted, resting lightly on the bench—close enough that her fingers twitched against the wood, almost reaching for his. "For a long time, it was just survival," he said quietly. "For me. For my squad. For the ones who trusted me not to screw it all up."

"And now?" she pressed gently.

Levi's eyes lingered on hers for a moment, hesitation flickering like a shadow before he spoke. "Now... now I think about things I didn't let myself want before."

The rain outside seemed to quiet, as if waiting, the air between them shifting. Mikasa's breath caught as she held still, her heartbeat loud in her chest.

"I think about you," Levi said finally, his voice low—so soft it might've been lost in the storm if not for the weight of it.

Mikasa blinked, her fingers curling against the edge of the bench. She didn't speak, but the quiet seemed to pull them closer, the distance between them shrinking like it had been inevitable all along.

Levi leaned back slightly, breaking the stillness. His expression was unreadable, but his voice carried a rare warmth. "I'm not good at this," he said bluntly. "But I know one thing—I don't want to lose you. Not now. Not ever."

He exhaled, his jaw tight, like it cost him something to say it aloud. "I've had enough things taken away from me, Mikasa. I'm not letting this be one of them."

Mikasa's throat tightened. Her hand moved slowly, deliberately, brushing against his before she threaded her fingers through his. The contact felt steady, grounding. "You won't lose me," she said, her voice quiet but certain. "Not as long as you don't let go."

Levi's lips twitched faintly, a ghost of a smile, as he squeezed her hand just once—firm and sure. "Tch. That's the thing—I'm not planning to."

His thumb brushed her knuckles, lingering there as though memorizing the feeling. "I want this. I want you. For as long as we've got... for as long as we're still standing."

Mikasa's gaze dropped to their entwined hands before she looked back at him, dark eyes steady. "Then don't let go." Her voice was soft but resolute, a quiet promise. "I want this too. I want you—for as long as we have."

The words hung between them, honest and stark. For a moment, there was nothing but the sound of their breathing, the muted rhythm of the rain, and the weight of what they had both just admitted.

Mikasa leaned closer, the space between them dissolving as she let her head rest lightly against his shoulder. Levi stilled for a second, then shifted just enough to make it comfortable, his presence steady and warm.

"I could get used to this," she murmured softly, as if testing the words.

Levi glanced down at her, his expression softer than anyone else would ever see. "You're not so bad to have around." His tone held the faintest teasing edge, but it was undercut by something sincere.

Mikasa smiled, small but real, her eyes drifting closed as the storm outside began to fade. They didn't need more words—this was enough.

After a while, Levi reached into his pocket, pulling out a small package wrapped in plain brown paper. He handed it to her without a word, his expression neutral—but his gaze lingered just a second too long to be casual.

"What's this?" Mikasa asked, her brow furrowing as her fingers brushed the rough paper.

"Just open it," Levi muttered, leaning back with a casual shrug.

Mikasa unwrapped it carefully, revealing a bracelet made of intertwined leather cords, fastened with a small silver charm in the shape of a bird mid-flight. It was simple yet deliberate, the wings outstretched as though to defy the weight of the world.

"It reminded me of you," Levi said, the words slipping out quietly—so soft she almost didn't hear them. "Strong. Resilient. Always moving forward."

Mikasa stared at the bracelet, her thumb tracing the bird's delicate lines as something tightened in her chest. The gift was understated—like him—but it held more meaning than anything she'd ever been given.

"Thank you," she said, her voice steady but threaded with emotion.

Levi gave a short nod, his gray eyes flicking to her face. "Don't lose it."

"I won't." Mikasa secured the bracelet around her wrist.

Levi didn't say anything, but his eyes softened, a flicker of something unspoken passing through them. His hand moved almost unconsciously to hers. His thumb brushed along the intertwined leather, lingering over the charm. "It suits you," he said at last, almost to himself.

Mikasa blinked, her breath catching slightly when Levi lifted her hand with deliberate care. She didn't pull away. His lips pressed gently against the back of her hand, lingering there just a heartbeat too long.

The warmth of the gesture startled her, but she couldn't look away. When he finally straightened, letting her hand fall softly back into her lap, his gaze met hers. His expression was unguarded, rare and fleeting, but undeniably real.

"Levi..." Mikasa started, but her voice trailed off as their eyes held, the weight of everything they couldn't say hanging in the quiet room.

Levi was the first to break the moment, exhaling softly as he stood. "Come on," he said, his voice lower than usual. "The storm's passed."

Mikasa nodded, rising to her feet and wrapping her scarf back around her neck. As they stepped outside into the cool, rain-slicked night, she glanced at him, the smallest smile curving her lips.

"For the record," she said, her tone light but teasing, "I think Isabel would've liked that moment. She'd just be annoying about it."

Levi clicked his tongue, but the faintest smirk tugged at his lips. "Good thing she wasn't here, then."

Their footsteps fell into sync as they walked through the empty streets.

And as they disappeared into the damp quiet of the night, side by side, Mikasa couldn't help but feel that she'd carry this with her for as long as they both stood.

****************************

Aaaaaand that's ARC I. Starting Chap 12, it's ARC II. It's still continuing the same story.

Chapter Text

It started innocently enough. Mikasa had been returning from a scouting mission when she heard a soft, pitiful meow from the underbrush. She stopped, her eyes scanning the area until she spotted the tiny creature—a small, scruffy black-and-white cat, its fur matted and its wide green eyes staring up at her with a mix of curiosity and desperation.

Mikasa's heart softened instantly. Without hesitation, she scooped it up, tucking it into her jacket as she made her way back to HQ.

By the time she arrived, the cat had already made itself at home in her arms, purring loudly. She slipped into HQ, trying to avoid drawing attention, but it didn't take long before Sasha spotted her in the hallway.

"Is that a cat?!" Sasha practically shrieked, startling Connie, who came around the corner with a half-eaten loaf of bread.

"What's a cat doing here?" Connie asked, his voice filled with mock suspicion. "Mikasa, are you replacing us with a furrier, cuter friend?"

"Absolutely," Mikasa deadpanned, though the faintest hint of a smile tugged at her lips.

Within minutes, word had spread through their friend group. Armin, Eren, Jean, and Isabel all gathered in Mikasa's room, where the cat sat on her bed, grooming itself as though it owned the place. Sasha was on the floor, feeding it scraps of meat she'd smuggled from the mess hall, while Connie tried (and failed) to coax the cat into sitting on his lap.

"Why does it like Mikasa so much?" Jean grumbled, watching as the cat curled up on Mikasa's jacket. "I'm better with animals."

"No, you're not," Eren said bluntly. "Remember that horse that tried to kick you in the face?"

"Shut up, Eren"

Isabel, sitting cross-legged on the floor, leaned closer to Mikasa. "Do you think Big Bro will let us keep it?"

Mikasa sighed. "You mean Levi?"

"Who else?" Isabel replied cheekily. "You've got him wrapped around your finger, Mikasa. Just bat your eyelashes and tell him the cat boosts morale or something."

"That's not how it works," Mikasa muttered, though the idea of trying made her smirk.

As the group continued fawning over the cat, Levi's voice echoed from down the hall, sending everyone into a frenzy.

"Scatter!" Sasha hissed, grabbing the cat and shoving it into a basket. The group scrambled to make themselves look busy, but the cat, evidently not on the same page, let out a loud, unmistakable meow.

Levi appeared in the doorway, his cold gaze sweeping the room. His eyes immediately landed on the suspiciously large group clustered in Mikasa's room. "What the hell is going on here?"

No one answered, but the cat meowed again, drawing his attention to the basket Sasha was attempting to discreetly slide under the bed. Levi's eyes narrowed.

"Pets are not allowed," Levi said flatly. "Who brought it in?"

The silence stretched unbearably until Mikasa, entirely unbothered, crossed her arms and said, "Me."

The rest of the group exchanged wide-eyed glances. Mikasa's calm admission was bold, considering Levi's no-nonsense stance on rules.

Levi's eyes locked onto her, his brow furrowing. "Ackerman."

Mikasa tilted her head slightly, feigning innocence. "It's just a cat."

Jean whispered behind her, "She's gonna get us all killed."

Levi's gaze flicked to the others, who were all trying (and failing) to act nonchalant. "And the rest of you?"

"They were playing with the cat." Mikasa said, deadpanned.

Levi stared at her for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "The cat goes back outside by tomorrow morning."

The group collectively deflated. But before Levi could leave, the cat decided to intervene. It padded out of the basket and rubbed against Levi's leg, purring loudly.

Connie whispered to Eren, "I think it's trying to charm him."

Levi looked down at the cat, his expression hard to read. Finally, he turned back to Mikasa. "If it stays, it's your responsibility. If it scratches the furniture, you're fixing it. If it gets into the kitchen, you're cleaning it. Understood?"

Mikasa nodded, a small, triumphant smile playing at her lips. "Understood."

The group stared in disbelief as Levi walked out of the room, shaking his head.

"Are you kidding me?" Connie said. "How does she get away with that?"

"It's the Levi effect," Sasha said, grinning. "You should ask her to convince him to let us have extra rations next."

"I'll think about it," Mikasa said dryly, watching as the cat curled up on her bed, perfectly content.

****************************

Levi's office was quiet, save for the soft scratching of his pen against paper. He sat at his desk, meticulously reviewing mission reports, his posture rigid as always. The door creaked open, and he glanced up, his eyes narrowing at the sight of Mikasa stepping in, carrying a small bundle of fur in her arms.

"What are you doing?" Levi asked, his voice clipped. His gaze flicked to the cat, which stared back at him with unblinking green eyes.

Mikasa smirked, her tone light but teasing. "I thought you could use some company, Captain."

Levi's pen stilled, and he leaned back slightly, crossing his arms. "Get that thing out of here. My office isn't a petting zoo."

The cat, as if sensing Levi's displeasure, let out a loud, demanding meow. Mikasa raised an eyebrow. "It likes you."

Levi gave her an unimpressed look. "That's not mutual."

Ignoring him, Mikasa walked further into the room, casually setting the cat down on his desk. The cat immediately began sniffing his papers, its tail flicking back and forth as it made itself at home. Levi's eye twitched.

"Mikasa," he said warningly, his tone low.

She sat down across from him, completely unbothered. "I've decided to name it Levi."

Levi blinked, caught off guard for a moment. "Excuse me?"

"The cat," Mikasa said, gesturing to the tiny creature now pawing at the corner of his report. "Its attitude reminds me of you. All grumpy and bossy."

Levi stared at her, then at the cat, which had curled up on top of his stack of neatly arranged papers. Its eyes closed as it began to purr, completely oblivious to the tension in the room.

"You think this is funny?" Levi asked, his voice deadpan.

"A little," Mikasa admitted, leaning back in her chair. "It's fitting, don't you think?"

Levi's gaze shifted between her and the cat. "You brought that thing into HQ, ignored my orders to keep it out of here, and now you're naming it after me?"

Mikasa shrugged, the faintest smile tugging at her lips. "I think it's an honor."

The cat chose that moment to stretch out, knocking a pen off the desk. Mikasa reached down to pick it up. When she straightened, she was still smirking.

"You don't have to admit it, but I think you like it," she said, her tone teasing.

Levi's jaw tightened, but he didn't kick the cat off his desk. Instead, he resumed his work, his expression carefully neutral. "If it damages anything, you're cleaning it."

"Of course," Mikasa said, her voice light as she stood. "I'll leave you to your work... Levi." She winked as she picked up the cat, tucking it back into her arms.

Levi didn't look up, but the faintest twitch of his lips betrayed his thoughts. As the door clicked shut behind her, he glanced at the small tuft of fur left on his desk.

****************************

The Survey Corps HQ was unusually lively that afternoon. Mikasa had gone out on an errand, leaving the little cat—affectionately named Levi—in the care of Armin, Eren, Isabel, and Farlan. Naturally, chaos ensued.

The four of them sat on the common room floor, taking turns entertaining the cat, though their methods were questionable at best.

"Levi, catch this!" Eren said, holding a piece of string and tugging it back and forth. The cat batted at it half-heartedly before losing interest.

"Maybe it doesn't like string," Armin suggested, holding a book open near the cat's face. "Do cats like pictures?"

"Armin, it's a cat, not a scholar," Farlan said, laughing as he tried to coax the cat onto his lap. "Here, kitty."

Isabel, meanwhile, had taken a small piece of bread from the mess hall and was waving it in front of the cat. "It's like training a horse, right?"

"Don't feed it that!" Armin scolded.

"It's just bread!" Isabel protested. "You're worse than my big bro—"

Her words cut off as the cat squirmed in her arms, its tiny claws catching on her sleeve.

"That's it!" Eren declared, scooping the cat up. "Maybe it wants to wrestle!"

Before anyone could stop him, Eren flipped the cat gently onto its back, holding its little paws up like it was ready to box.

"Stop manhandling it, Eren!" Armin yelled, horrified.

The cat let out a distressed meow, its tail lashing as it wriggled free of Eren's grip.

"What are you all doing?" Levi's cold voice cut through the chaos like a blade.

The group froze, their heads snapping toward the doorway. Levi stood there, arms crossed, his piercing gaze fixed on them—and the trembling cat.

"Big bro!" Isabel grinned nervously, still holding the piece of bread. "We were just, uh, bonding with the cat."

"By traumatizing it?" Levi said flatly, striding into the room. He knelt beside the cat, scooping it up with practiced ease. The cat, as if sensing salvation, immediately curled against his chest, purring loudly.

"You're supposed to be watching it, not treating it like some ragdoll," Levi snapped, glaring at each of them in turn.

"We weren't hurting it!" Eren protested, though his voice wavered.

Levi's glare deepened. "If I see any of you handling it like that again, I'll make you scrub the bathrooms for a week. Am I clear?"

"Crystal," Armin said quickly, looking thoroughly chastised.

Levi straightened, cradling the cat as it nuzzled into his jacket. "I'll take care of it. You're all obviously useless."

"Hey, it's Mikasa's cat," Isabel said, pouting.

"And she left it in your care," Levi countered, his tone icy. "A mistake she won't make again."

With that, Levi turned on his heel and left the room, the cat still purring contentedly in his arms.

"Did he just... steal the cat?" Eren asked, stunned.

"Not stolen," Armin corrected with a sigh. "Rescued."

"Big bro really is more like a cat than a person," Isabel muttered, earning a snicker from Farlan.

Back in his office, Levi set the cat down gently on the edge of his desk. It stretched lazily before curling up, tail flicking in satisfaction.

"At least you're quiet," Levi muttered, returning to his chair.

Though the quiet was only short-lived. Some time later, as he worked with his usual efficiency, his eyes flicked toward the feline, which had sprawled out on top of a stack of documents like it owned the place.

Levi exhaled sharply, setting down his pen. "Tch. You're worse than Isabel," he muttered, leaning back in his chair.

The cat lifted its head lazily, blinking at him with half-closed eyes before letting out a soft, unimpressed meow.

"Oh, so now you've got something to say?" Levi raised an eyebrow. "Figures. You don't lift a damn paw to help, but you'll sit there and judge me like it's your job."

The cat yawned, stretching out its little body and knocking a few loose papers onto the floor in the process.

"Yeah, I figured you'd be a menace," Levi said dryly, leaning down to pick up the scattered pages. "Mikasa really nailed it, naming you after me. Stubborn, insufferable, thinks the world revolves around you..." He paused, giving the cat a pointed look. "But at least I don't shed all over the damn place."

The cat flicked its tail, seemingly unbothered, and curled up again.

Levi rubbed his temples, leaning forward with his elbows on the desk. "You know, this wasn't supposed to be my problem. Mikasa dumps you on the recruits, and what do they do? Nearly turn you into a chew toy. Figures I'm the only competent one around here."

The cat responded with another meow, its green eyes gleaming.

Levi smirked faintly. "What, you agree with me? Or are you just hungry?"

As if on cue, the cat stood up, padded closer to him, and headbutted his arm. Levi stiffened at first, then sighed, tentatively scratching behind its ears.

"You're lucky you're not as annoying as the brats," he muttered, his voice quieter now. The cat purred louder, leaning into his touch.

Levi sat back, watching the tiny creature settle back onto his desk, this time on top of his reports. "I don't know how she talked me into this," he said, almost to himself. "Or why I didn't throw you out the second I saw you."

The cat meowed again, its tail flicking lazily.

He picked up his pen again, but his hand hesitated over the paper as he glanced at the cat one more time. "...You better not knock over my tea later."

The cat blinked slowly at him, looking entirely unbothered.

Levi let out a soft tch, but the corner of his mouth twitched into something that might have been the faintest hint of a smile.

The door to Levi's office creaked open slowly, revealing Mikasa standing in the doorway. She hesitated for a moment, taking in the scene before her. Levi, humanity's strongest soldier, was sitting at his desk, one hand holding a pen, the other scratching behind the ears of a cat sprawled out across his documents.

Her lips twitched as she caught him mid-sentence.

"...I don't care how cute you think you are," Levi muttered, not noticing her. "You knock my cup over, and you'll be sleeping outside. You hear me?"

The cat responded with a soft, contented purr, its tail flicking lazily as if mocking him.

"Unbelievable," Levi continued, his voice low. "I'm in charge of an entire squad of morons, and now I'm babysitting a damn furball. You better not start acting like Isabel—"

"You would make a good dad."

Levi froze, his pen hovering above the paper as Mikasa's voice cut through the air. Slowly, he turned his head, his stormy gray eyes meeting her amused gaze.

Her expression was perfectly neutral, except for the faintest quirk of her lips.

"How long have you been standing there?" he asked flatly, his hand still resting on the cat, which seemed entirely unbothered by the tension in the room.

"Long enough," Mikasa replied, stepping inside and closing the door behind her. "So... you and Levi are bonding?" she teased, gesturing toward the cat.

He scoffed, pulling his hand back as though caught doing something inappropriate. "Tch. It's not bonding. I'm just making sure this menace doesn't destroy my office."

Mikasa raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms as she leaned against the doorframe. "Really? Because it sounded like you were having a pretty heartfelt conversation."

"I don't have heartfelt conversations," Levi shot back, his tone clipped. "Least of all with a cat."

The cat chose that moment to stretch and meow, as if in protest.

Mikasa's lips twitched again, but she didn't hide her smile this time. "Sure, Captain. Whatever you say."

Levi narrowed his eyes at her, but there was no real heat in his gaze. "Don't you have something better to do than eavesdrop on me?"

Mikasa pushed off the doorframe and walked toward the desk, her hand brushing the cat's fur as she passed. "Not really. Besides, it's not every day I catch you talking to yourself."

"I wasn't talking to myself," he grumbled, picking up his pen again. "I was scolding it."

"Right," Mikasa said, her tone laced with amusement. "And did it apologize?"

Levi shot her a look, but the corners of his mouth twitched ever so slightly. "If you're done being a smartass, take this thing with you. I've got work to do."

Mikasa picked up the cat, cradling it in her arms as it purred contentedly. She looked down at Levi, her smile softening. "You're not as scary as you think."

"Get out," Levi muttered, though his tone lacked its usual edge.

Mikasa chuckled, turning toward the door. As she left, she called over her shoulder, "Don't worry, Levi. I'll make sure he doesn't 'destroy' anything else."

Levi sighed, leaning back in his chair as the door clicked shut behind her. He glanced at his now-empty desk, his gaze lingering for a moment before he muttered under his breath, "Tch. Menace."

****************************

Mikasa walked briskly down the hall toward Levi's office, her steps echoing against the stone walls. She'd been out on an errand all day, and now her priority was one thing: checking on Levi.

Throwing open the door, she called out casually, "Levi?"

Seated at his desk, the human Levi looked up from his papers, his sharp gray eyes narrowing slightly. "What?"

Mikasa blinked, her gaze flickering across the room. "I wasn't talking to you."

Levi's expression darkened immediately. "Excuse me?"

"I meant the cat," Mikasa said, stepping further into the room and scanning for the small furball. "Where's Levi?"

Levi dropped his pen with a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You named the damn cat after me. This is your fault."

"Where is he?" Mikasa pressed, ignoring his frustration.

Levi gestured lazily toward the corner of the room, where the cat was curled up on a pile of neatly stacked reports. Mikasa smiled, walking over to scoop him up.

"There you are," she cooed, scratching the cat's chin. "Did you bother Levi?"

Levi—the human one—bristled. "Levi did just fine. Unlike someone, he actually listened to orders and didn't destroy anything."

Mikasa smirked, cuddling the cat close as she sat down in the chair opposite Levi's desk. "Well, he is well-behaved. You could learn a thing or two from him."

Levi's eye twitched. "It's a cat, not a role model."

"Still," Mikasa said innocently, stroking the cat's fur. "I think he has a better attitude than you sometimes."

The human Levi stood abruptly, walking to the bookshelf and muttering something under his breath something like "ridiculous."

The next few days were filled with similar moments. Mikasa's fondness for the cat seemed to grow with every passing hour, and much to Levi's chagrin, the creature had taken a liking to his office.

One evening, as Mikasa lounged in Levi's office with the cat sprawled across her lap, Levi glanced over from his paperwork. "Does he really need to be in here all the time?"

Mikasa didn't look up. "Why? Does it bother you?"

"It's not his room," Levi said curtly, setting his pen down.

"He likes it here," Mikasa replied with a shrug. "Besides, he keeps you company while I'm gone."

Levi stared at her, unamused. "I don't need his company."

The cat meowed loudly, as if offended by Levi's tone.

Mikasa chuckled, scratching behind the cat's ears. "See? He disagrees."

Levi leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. "He's a cat. He doesn't disagree. He doesn't even know what you're saying."

Mikasa tilted her head, a teasing smile playing on her lips. "He understands me just fine. Maybe you're the one who doesn't."

Levi stood abruptly, pacing to the window. "Tch. Whatever."

****************************

One night, she called out from the hallway. "Levi!"

"Yeah?" the human Levi replied, stepping into the doorway.

"No, not you," Mikasa said, peeking into the room. "I meant the cat. Have you seen him?"

Levi's expression hardened. "He's a damn cat, Mikasa. He doesn't need roll call."

Mikasa ignored him, calling out again. "Levi! Come here, boy!"

The cat padded into the room moments later, jumping into her arms. Mikasa smiled brightly, scratching under his chin. "Good boy."

Levi—the human one—stood frozen, his patience wearing thin. "You know what? Keep it up, and I'll name the next Titan we kill after you."

Mikasa grinned at him. "Jealous, Captain?"

Levi's glare was deadly. "Of a cat? Don't flatter yourself."

The cat meowed in Mikasa's arms, nuzzling into her chest. Mikasa looked back at Levi, her smirk widening. "Sure. Whatever you say."

Levi turned on his heel, muttering, "I hate this."

The candlelight in Levi's office flickered softly as Mikasa sat comfortably on the couch, cradling the cat, Levi Jr., in her lap. She was cooing to him, scratching under his chin while he purred loudly, soaking up all her attention. Human Levi, seated at his desk, was barely holding it together as he watched the scene out of the corner of his eye.

"You're such a good boy, aren't you?" Mikasa murmured, pressing a kiss to the cat's head.

Levi's patience snapped. "Enough."

Mikasa glanced up, startled. "What?"

"Put the damn cat down," Levi said sharply, standing from his desk.

"Why? He's not doing anything," Mikasa said, frowning as she stroked the cat's fur protectively.

Levi crossed the room in a few quick strides, his jaw tight. "He's in the way."

"In the way of what?" Mikasa challenged, her brow arching as she cuddled the cat closer.

Levi bent down, his gray eyes locking onto hers with an intensity that sent a shiver down her spine. Without breaking eye contact, he gently but firmly plucked the cat from her lap.

"Levi!" she exclaimed, watching as he carried the cat to the door.

Levi opened the door, set the cat down carefully outside, and then closed it with deliberate precision. The latch clicked loudly in the silence of the room.

"You didn't have to kick him out," Mikasa said, half-annoyed, half-amused.

Levi turned back to her, his hand resting on the doorknob. "I did." He twisted the lock, the sound sending a spark of anticipation through the air.

Mikasa's amusement faltered as Levi stalked toward her, his movements slow and purposeful. "What are you doing?"

"Getting back what's mine," Levi said simply, his voice low and rough.

Before she could reply, he was kneeling in front of her, his hands bracing on either side of the couch as he leaned in. Mikasa's breath hitched as he invaded her space, the heat of him overwhelming.

"You've been coddling that furball all week," Levi murmured, his lips brushing the shell of her ear. "But I think you've forgotten something."

Mikasa's cheeks flushed as she swallowed hard. "You're being ridiculous. It's just a—"

Levi cut her off, tilting her chin up with his fingers and capturing her lips in a deep, searing kiss. Her protest melted away as she grabbed onto his shirt, pulling him closer.

He pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against hers. "Still think I'm being ridiculous?"

Mikasa's smirk returned, though her voice was breathless. "Maybe."

Levi's lips quirked upward in the faintest of smirks before he claimed her lips again, his hands sliding to her waist.

The cat meowed faintly from outside the door, scratching softly.

"Not now," Levi muttered against her lips, his voice tinged with annoyance.

Mikasa laughed softly, wrapping her arms around his neck. "You really are jealous of him."

"Shut up," Levi growled, silencing her with another kiss.

****************************

Arc II coming shortly. I am busy with exams, but I will be done soon and plan to start posting again on Dec 21

Chapter Text

The barracks buzzed with the energy of conspirators as Isabel, Sasha, Eren, Armin, Jean, and Connie huddled together, their hushed voices and suppressed laughter filling the space. Isabel, practically vibrating with excitement, waved her hands dramatically as she gave final instructions.

"Alright, listen up!" Isabel whispered, her voice brimming with excitement. She cast a quick glance over her shoulder, ensuring the coast was clear. "This is going to be perfect. Farlan's been mocking my plans for weeks. I've got the ultimate payback lined up, and you're all going to witness my genius."

"Genius?" Connie snorted, trying to hold back a laugh. "That's a strong word for whatever this is."

"More like reckless chaos," Jean muttered, crossing his arms.

Isabel whipped around to glare at them, her hands on her hips. "Hey! My plans are creative and inspired! They're adventures, thank you very much!"

"Adventures that usually end with someone yelling at us," Sasha chimed in, grinning. "Remember the 'stealth mission'? You knocked over that whole stack of crates and got us all caught!"

"First of all," Isabel shot back, jabbing a finger in the air, "those crates came out of nowhere. Second, this plan is foolproof. Just wait and see."

"Crates don't 'come out of nowhere,' Isabel," Armin said. "They were stationary. You walked right into them."

"Are you seriously still holding that against me?" Isabel asked, looking offended.

"Kind of hard to forget," Jean deadpanned. "We had to peel Sasha out of a barrel."

"I smelled pickles for days!" Sasha chimed in, her voice mock-indignant.

"Okay, enough!" Isabel waved her arms dramatically, effectively silencing their bickering. "Focus! This time, nothing will go wrong. Farlan always walks through here after patrol. He's always going on about how my ideas are disasters, but this time, the joke's on him."

She gestured grandly to the doorway, where a bucket of icy water balanced precariously on the slightly ajar door.

Jean tilted his head, unimpressed. "That's it? A bucket of water? Real creative, Einstein."

"It's about the execution, Jean-boy," Isabel retorted with a smug grin. "Timing is everything."

Jean scowled. "Don't call me that."

Armin frowned. "But what if someone else comes through first? You know, someone who's not Farlan?"

Isabel waved him off as if the very suggestion were absurd. "Impossible. He's always on time. Watch and learn, Armin. Watch. And. Learn."

Sasha, leaning casually against the wall, nudged Jean with her elbow. "Five bucks says this goes horribly wrong."

Jean smirked, his arms still crossed. "I'll take that bet. No way this works."

Connie chuckled, leaning closer to Sasha. "Can I get in on that action? My money's on total disaster, too."

"Thanks for the support, you traitors," Isabel muttered, rolling her eyes.

Eren, who had been uncharacteristically quiet, finally spoke up. "I don't know, Isabel. What if Farlan doesn't think it's funny?"

"He'll think it's hilarious," Isabel said confidently, though her grin faltered slightly. "And if he doesn't, well... I'll deal with that later."

As the sound of approaching footsteps echoed down the hall, the group froze, their eyes snapping to the door. Sasha's grin widened. Connie's excitement was palpable.

"Showtime," Isabel whispered, ducking behind a crate.

The door creaked open, and the bucket tipped—

With a deafening splash, icy water cascaded down—not onto Farlan, onto Levi.

The world seemed to freeze. Levi stood stock-still in the doorway, the water dripping from his cravat and soaking into his crisp uniform. His expression was a perfect mask of indifference, but his eyes... those cold, piercing eyes scanned the room like a blade, slicing through the silence.

A small puddle began to form around his boots, and each drip of water hitting the floor felt like a countdown to doom.

Jean sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth. "Oh. No."

Sasha clapped both hands over her mouth, her eyes wide as saucers.

Connie, who had been grinning mere seconds ago, now looked like he was trying to merge with the wall. "We're screwed," he whispered.

Eren muttered, "This isn't happening. Please let this not be happening."

And then, as though their survival instincts had kicked in simultaneously, every single one of them pointed to Isabel.

"WHAT?!" Isabel screeched, spinning on her so-called comrades. "You guys—are you serious?! I thought we were in this together! TRAITORS!"

Levi remained silent, taking one deliberate step forward. The sound of his waterlogged boots squelching against the floor was somehow louder than it should have been, each step more ominous than the last.

Isabel's bravado crumbled as her stomach flipped. "I—I can explain!" she stammered, taking a hesitant step back. "It was supposed to be Farlan! Really! This was just, uh, a small misunderstanding. A little mix-up!" She laughed nervously.

Levi's gaze didn't waver, and his silence was far more menacing than anything he could have said.

"I'M SORRY, OKAY?!" Isabel blurted, throwing her hands up in surrender. "It wasn't supposed to be you! Big bro—wait, I mean Levi! Captain! Please, have mercy!"

The faint twitch of Levi's eyebrow was her only warning.

Isabel gulped, beads of sweat forming on her forehead despite the cool air. She glanced over her shoulder at the open door and realized her only option. Without another word, she bolted, her boots pounding against the floor as she made a mad dash for the training grounds.

"Mikasa!" Isabel's desperate voice echoed across the training grounds, carrying with it the unmistakable sound of pure panic.

Mikasa, who had been sharpening her blades with quiet focus, glanced up, her eyes narrowing slightly as Isabel sprinted toward her.

"Mikasa, you have to help me!" Isabel wailed, skidding to a halt behind her and grabbing her arm like a lifeline. "Big bro's going to kill me!"

Mikasa raised an eyebrow, slowly setting her blades aside as she took in Isabel's frantic expression.

"What did you do this time?" Mikasa asked, her voice calm and steady, though her eyes flicked toward the barracks.

"It was an accident! I swear!" Isabel babbled, gesturing wildly. "It wasn't supposed to hit him! He's mad—like, really mad!"

Mikasa tilted her head, her gaze shifting past Isabel to Levi, who was now crossing the training grounds with the precision of a storm cloud. The water dripping from his soaked uniform left a trail behind him, and his eyes burned with quiet fury.

"Help me!" Isabel pleaded, shaking Mikasa's arm. "Please, you're the only one who can save me!"

Mikasa sighed, pulling her arm free and crossing them over her chest. "Whatever you did, you deserve whatever's coming."

Isabel's jaw dropped. "Are you kidding me?! You're abandoning me?!"

"I'm being practical," Mikasa replied, her tone utterly unbothered.

Isabel turned to see Levi closing the distance, and her panic spiked. "Big bro, come on! It was an accident!"

Levi stopped just a few feet away, his gaze fixed on her like a predator sizing up its prey.

"Isabel," he said, his voice low and calm, but no less terrifying.

The single word made her flinch.

"I—I can explain—"

"No need," Levi cut her off.

Before Isabel could scramble away, Levi reached out with lightning-fast reflexes and grabbed the back of her jacket, hoisting her into the air like a disobedient kitten.

"Big bro, wait! Listen, I'll clean your office for a month! No, a year!" she yelped, kicking her legs uselessly.

Levi ignored her protests. "You've got five seconds to stop talking," he said flatly.

Isabel immediately shut her mouth, her face red with embarrassment as she hung limply in his grip.

Ten minutes later, Isabel dangled upside down from the pull-up bar in the training yard, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. Her hair swayed with her slow, pendulum-like movements, and her face was twisted into a mask of indignation. Above her, a second bucket of water swayed precariously, ready to fall at the slightest shift in weight.

"This is a violation of basic human rights," she grumbled, swinging slightly.

Sasha, munching on an apple, leaned against the fence. "Hey, at least you're not dead."

"Yet," Connie added with a grin.

Jean, arms crossed, smirked. "I warned you. This is what happens when you play stupid games."

"Stupid games?" Isabel shot back, narrowing her eyes at him. "How about I hang you upside down and see how smart you feel, huh, Jean-boy?"

"That's enough," Levi's voice cut through the chatter, sharp and commanding. He stood a few feet away, his arms crossed over his chest, his uniform still damp from earlier. "Anyone else feel like testing their luck today?"

A chorus of "No, sir!" rang out, louder than necessary.

Mikasa, standing a short distance away, observing the spectacle with a flicker of amusement in her eyes. The sight of Isabel swinging upside down while still muttering insults under her breath was entertaining enough, but it was the image of Levi—soaked, stern, and still dripping—that had her biting back a laugh.

As if sensing her suppressed amusement, Levi's gaze shifted to her. "Something funny?"

"Nope."

Levi's glare narrowed further.

He stepped closer, his voice dropping to a low murmur meant only for her ears. "Careful. You might be next."

Mikasa's smirk widened slightly. "I'd like to see you try."

For a moment, the air between them was taut with unspoken challenges, but Levi only gave a faint huff, something between a sigh and a suppressed chuckle, before turning his attention back to the group.

Isabel, meanwhile, had not stopped grumbling. "This is cruel and unusual punishment! I bet even the Military Police don't do this kind of stuff!"

Connie tilted his head thoughtfully. "I don't know. They might. They are kind of awful."

Sasha nodded sagely. "He's got a point. MP food rations alone are a crime."

"Not helping!" Isabel snapped, swinging slightly as the ropes creaked ominously.

"Quiet," Levi ordered, his tone cutting through the noise effortlessly.

Mikasa pushed off the fence. "You brought this on yourself," she said simply, her voice carrying the weight of an unimpressed older sibling scolding a reckless younger one.

Isabel groaned loudly. "Some friend you are! I thought you had my back, Mikasa!"

Levi stormed back to his office, water still dripping from his jacket and boots. Each step left a faint wet trail behind him, his irritation barely contained as he shoved the door open. He threw off his soaked jacket, tossing it onto the back of a chair, and moved toward the adjoining room.

The bedroom was simple and tidy—save for the damp footprints trailing across the floor. Levi changed into a different shirt and pants. He grabbed a towel from a neatly folded stack on a nearby shelf and sat on the edge of the bed, rubbing his hair with a frustrated kind of roughness.

The door creaked open, and he heard the soft sound of boots on the floorboards. He didn't need to look up to know who it was.

"Not a word," Levi muttered, his tone low and warning.

Mikasa leaned against the doorframe with glimmer of amusement in her eyes.

"I wasn't going to say anything," she replied calmly, stepping inside and shutting the door behind her. "I just came to check on you."

Levi snorted, his hands still buried in the towel. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

Mikasa moved closer, her steps slow and deliberate. "A little," she admitted, her voice teasing.

Levi shook his head, the towel falling to his lap. His damp hair clung messily to his forehead and neck, and a single droplet of water slid down his temple. "They're all idiots," he muttered. "And so are you if you think I'm letting you off for laughing."

Mikasa raised an eyebrow as she stopped in front of him, tilting her head slightly. "Oh? What exactly do you plan to do?" she asked, her tone dipping lower with amusement.

Levi narrowed his eyes, but before he could respond, Mikasa reached for the towel. "You're going to ruin your hair if you keep doing it like that."

He blinked, caught off guard as she took the towel from his hands and stepped closer. She leaned in, brushing the strands of hair away from his face with practiced ease before gently drying his head. Her movements were calm and steady, her fingers grazing against his scalp with a lightness that made him tense.

"Mikasa," Levi warned.

"What?" she said innocently, "I'm just helping."

She tilted his head slightly to one side, her fingers slipping through his hair. "Besides," she added, her voice soft and teasing, "you're cute when you're mad."

Levi stilled, his eyes narrowing as he glanced up at her. "Cute?" he repeated, his tone flat.

"What? You don't like compliments?"

"I don't like that one," he muttered, though his voice had softened considerably.

She laughed quietly, her fingers still working the towel through his hair. "Fine. Handsome. Better?"

Levi scoffed but didn't pull away. "Marginally."

A comfortable silence settled between them, broken only by the soft rustle of the towel and the faint dripping of water onto the floor. Mikasa's movements slowed as she set the towel aside, her fingers brushing against the back of his neck.

Without a word, Levi's hands reached up, wrapping firmly around her waist. The motion was slow and deliberate, as though testing her reaction.

Levi leaned forward, resting his head gently against her stomach, the fabric of her shirt brushing against his damp hair. His touch was steady, but there was an unspoken vulnerability in the way he held her.

Heat crept through Mikasa's body at anticipation, and she felt her heart begin to race. The steady rise and fall of her breathing faltered, and her hands, which had been resting on his shoulders, hovered uncertainly.

Levi's grip tightened ever so slightly, his fingers pressing against her sides as though anchoring himself. He could feel the way her body tensed, her warmth bleeding through the thin barrier of cloth between them.

Levi tilted his head back. His lips twitched faintly. "What are you thinking about?"

Mikasa's face grew warmer.. "I—"

The door to his office slammed open with a loud bang, breaking the moment with all the subtlety of a cannonball.

"Leeeeviii! Oh—"

Hange froze mid-step, her wide eyes darting between the two of them: Levi sitting on the edge of the bed, his hands still loosely on Mikasa's waist, Mikasa standing in front of him, her face flushed and her composure slipping.

"Ohhhhh my god," Hange said, dragging out the words with dramatic flair as her hand flew to her chest. "Am I interrupting something? Wait, no—don't answer that! I can see it!"

Mikasa immediately stepped back, her arms crossing defensively, her face as red as a tomato. Levi, on the other hand, slowly turned his glare toward Hange, his patience already hanging by a thread.

"Hange," he growled, his voice dangerously low, "get out."

But Hange, as usual, was undeterred. In fact, she seemed to thrive on the rising tension. "Wow, Levi. I mean, I had suspicions, but this? This confirms everything!"

"There's nothing to confirm," Levi snapped not moving from his spot on the bed.

"Uh-huh," Hange said, her grin widening as she sauntered further into the room. "So, what's the deal here? Were you two about to... you know..." She waggled her eyebrows suggestively, her hands gesturing vaguely in the space between them.

"Hange."

"What? I'm just asking!" Hange said innocently, though her grin made it clear she was anything but. She turned her attention to Mikasa, who was steadfastly avoiding eye contact. "Mikasa, really, what's the story here? Are you two—"

"Hange." Levi's tone dropped even lower.

"Oh, fine, fine," Hange said, waving him off with exaggerated nonchalance. "I'll stop teasing. For now." She let the silence hang for just a beat longer before adding, "But wow, Levi. Didn't know you had it in you."

Levi stood abruptly, the movement sharp enough to make even Hange take a small step back. "If you don't tell me why you're here in the next five seconds—"

"Okay, okay!" Hange interrupted, holding up her hands in mock surrender, though her grin never wavered. "I just came to tell you Erwin's looking for you."

Levi exhaled, "You could have led with that."

"Yeah, but where's the fun in that?" Hange replied, her eyes gleaming with mischief. She glanced between Levi and Mikasa one more time, her grin softening into something more genuine. "I'll leave you two... to whatever this is."

With a final wink, she turned and slipped out the door, her heinous laughter echoing outside.

Mikasa groaned, "Why didn't I lock the door?"

****************************

Levi stepped into Erwin's office, his usual stoic demeanor in place despite the morning's earlier fiasco. Erwin sat at his desk, as composed as ever, skimming through a stack of neatly arranged documents. Hange, leaning casually against a nearby bookshelf, looked up the moment Levi entered.

And grinned.

A wide, suggestive grin that made Levi immediately regret not taking the alternate hallway to avoid her entirely.

"Well, look who decided to show up," Hange teased, her voice dripping with fake innocence. "You look... refreshed, Levi."

Levi ignored her, striding across the room to stand in front of Erwin's desk. "You called?" he said curtly, brushing past Hange's obvious attempt to bait him.

Hange didn't let up. "You know, Erwin, I think Levi's been hiding a softer side. Very... tender, even. It's touching, really."

Levi's glare flicked to her for a brief moment, enough to make anyone else back off. Hange, however, only looked more amused.

"Enough," Erwin said, his tone calm but firm, cutting off Hange's antics. "We have more important matters to discuss."

Hange straightened but still had that glint of mischief in her eyes as she plopped down on a chair, gesturing for Erwin to continue.

"The Military Police has invited the Survey Corps to their big annual ball," Erwin said, his voice steady.

Levi frowned immediately. "Why?" he asked, his tone skeptical. "The Military Police hate us. They wouldn't invite us to anything unless there was an ulterior motive. Why now?"

Erwin leaned back in his chair, his expression unreadable. "It's likely the influence of Commander Draven Callidus. The invitation came directly from him, passed through Nile Dok."

At the mention of Draven's name, Levi's frown deepened. Hange tilted her head curiously. "Draven, huh? That guy from a few weeks ago? The one who visited HQ all smiles and charm?"

"Yes," Erwin replied. "He's a newly appointed Regional Commander within the Military Police. He did claim he wanted to improve relations between the branches."

Levi scoffed softly. "And you actually believed him?"

"No," Erwin admitted, his tone firm. "But his intentions aren't immediately hostile, either. He's playing a careful game, but it's not yet clear what his end goal is. Regardless, we've been invited to the ball. Nile will be there, along with several high-ranking officials. Draven made sure we were included."

Levi crossed his arms, his stance tense. "And we're supposed to just show up and play nice?"

Erwin didn't answer immediately. Instead, he reached for a paper on his desk, his eyes scanning its contents. "It's an opportunity we can't ignore. The Survey Corps has always been at odds with the Military Police. If there's a chance to gather information or even shift public perception in our favor, we should take it."

"Or it's a trap," Levi pointed out flatly. "Draven doesn't strike as the kind of man who does anything without a reason. He's too polished, too deliberate."

Hange chimed in, her grin now replaced with genuine curiosity. "He was awfully curious about Mikasa during his visit, remember? That whole bit about the Ackerman legacy? It was subtle, but it stood out."

Levi's jaw tightened. He's not getting near her.

"I don't think that's his immediate plan," Erwin interjected. "But his interest in Mikasa—and the Ackerman name in general—is worth noting. For now, we attend the ball, observe, and tread carefully."

Levi shook his head slightly. "And what exactly do you expect me to do at a ball? Dance?"

Hange snorted. "I'd pay to see that."

Erwin gave a small smile, "your role will be more observational, Levi. If Draven is playing a larger game, he may let something slip in that environment. Watch him, and watch the MPs."

Levi didn't respond immediately, his mind turning over the implications of the invitation. After a moment, he gave a curt nod. "Fine. But don't expect me to play along with their niceties."

"Of course not," Erwin said smoothly. "Your bluntness is half the reason I need you there."

Levi rolled his eyes slightly but remained silent.

Erwin leaned back in his chair. "The invitation wasn't limited to just the three of us. The MPs extended it to a larger group from the Survey Corps. Along with myself, Hange, your squad, and some squad leaders, you're allowed to choose a handful of recruits to attend."

Levi's frown deepened. "You want me to drag recruits into this farce? What's next—ask them to dance with MPs while we're at it?"

Erwin cleared his throat, "there's another detail you'll need to account for."

Levi narrowed his eyes, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Erwin's lips twitched, a faint smile threatening to appear. "Since it's a ball, the invitation specifies that attendees must arrive... in pairs."

Levi's eyebrows twitched at Erwin's statement, and he crossed his arms, his expression a mix of disbelief and irritation. "Pairs? You're serious?"

"I'm serious. It's a formal event. Protocol dictates that pairs are expected." Erwin confirmed, his tone calm but edged with amusement. "Hange and I will attend together, of course."

"Of course," Levi muttered dryly, casting a sidelong glance at Hange, who was practically beaming with delight.

"And that leaves you, Captain Levi," Erwin continued, his faint smile growing. "You'll need to find someone to attend with."

Before Levi could respond, Hange's hand shot up like an overeager student. "Oh, oh! Levi has to take Mikasa!"

Levi's glare immediately shifted to her, uncompromising. "And why the hell would I do that?"

"Because it makes perfect sense," Hange said, her grin widening as she leaned forward. "Think about it: Mikasa's disciplined, elegant, and, let's be honest, she's drop-dead gorgeous."

Hell yeah, she is, he thought, though his expression remained flat.

"And," Hange continued, undeterred by Levi's silence, "imagine how those smug MPs will react when they see her walk in. They are always flaunting their so-called grace and extravagance, right? Their whole 'look how perfect and refined we are' shtick. Mikasa walking in there will obliterate their egos."

His eyes darkened at the thought of those Military Police bastards gawking at her. He could already picture their smug faces, their filthy stares lingering too long. The thought alone made his hands itch to grab the nearest blade.

Erwin cleared his throat, interrupting the rising tension. "Hange has a point, but ultimately, the decision is yours, Levi. You may choose whoever you think is best suited for the event."

Levi's narrowed eyes flicked to Erwin before he let out a soft, irritated tsk. "I'll decide later."

Erwin nodded. "That will be all."

Hange, meanwhile, "oh, I can't wait to see how this plays out."

Levi shot her a glare before turning on his heel and striding toward the door, "if you don't shut up, Hange, Erwin will be attending without a partner because I'll strangle you."

"Oh, Levi, you're so fun when you're flustered!"

Erwin clearly enjoying the exchange more than he let on. "And, Levi..."

Levi paused at the door, glancing back over his shoulder.

"Try to be a little kind for the ball. You don't want to scare off your partner," Erwin said, his eyes sparkling with restrained laughter.

Hange burst into laughter again as Levi slammed the door on his way out.

Levi exhaled, his mind already weighing his options. Of course, I would take Mikasa. Who else could it be?

But that satisfaction was quickly clouded by irritation. The thought of those Military Police bastards staring at her, their filthy eyes trailing after her churned something possessive in his chest.

****************************

The setting sun painted the sky in deep hues of orange and pink as the recruits trudged back to the barracks after a brutal day of training. Their exhaustion was palpable, most too tired to even complain about the grueling drills Levi had put them through in preparation for the upcoming expedition.

But a small group remained gathered outside under Levi's orders: Mikasa, Eren, Armin, Connie, Sasha, Jean, Ymir, and Krista, alongside Levi's special squad—Petra, Gunther, Eld, Oluo, Farlan, and Isabel.

Levi stood before them, arms crossed, his gaze scanning the group as if daring anyone to voice a complaint. Petra stood beside him, a slip of paper in hand, while Isabel practically buzzed with excitement, bouncing on her toes.

"Alright," Levi began, his tone clipped, "listen up. The Military Police has invited the Survey Corps to their annual ball."

"A ball?!" Isabel's voice rang out, her excitement bubbling over. "Oh my gosh, this is going to be amazing! Do you think there'll be fancy food? Music? Dancing?" She clapped her hands, practically vibrating with energy.

Jean, on the other hand, had gone suspiciously quiet, his brows furrowed as he stared at the ground. A ball means pairs... pairs means... Mikasa. His mind raced, already imagining the perfect way to ask her. Maybe something casual, like, "Hey Mikasa, wanna go to the ball with me?" No, too simple. He needed to sound confident, charming—

"Stop drooling, Jean," Connie muttered, elbowing him.

Jean jolted back to reality, glaring at Connie. "I'm not drooling, you idiot!"

Before any more side chatter could erupt, Levi shot them all a look. The group immediately fell silent.

"Petra," Levi said, gesturing for her to read the list.

Petra stepped forward, unfolding the paper and clearing her throat. "Names of those going to the ball from this group: Captain Levi, myself, Petra Ral, Oluo Bozado, Gunther Schultz, Eld Jinn, Farlan Church..."

The recruits leaned in slightly, holding their breath as she continued.

"Mikasa Ackerman, Armin Arlert, Connie Springer, Sasha Blouse, Ymir, and Krista Lenz," Petra finished, glancing up at the group.

For a moment, there was silence as the names sank in. Mikasa, Armin, Connie, Sasha, Ymir, and Krista exchanged quick glances, surprised and a little excited.

But Isabel, Jean, and Eren stood frozen, their wide eyes locked on Levi as realization dawned.

"What?!" Isabel finally burst out, her voice a mix of disbelief and outrage. "Big bro! You're kidding, right?"

Jean threw his hands in the air. "That's it? That's all you're taking?"

Eren scowled. "Why not us? We're part of your squad, too!"

Levi, unfazed by their outbursts, fixed them with a flat look. "You three are annoying. You'd cause chaos and embarrass the rest of us."

Isabel gasped dramatically, clutching her chest as if she'd been mortally wounded. "I would not! Farlan, tell him I'd be fine!"

She spun to Farlan, tugging on his sleeve with wide, pleading eyes. "Farlan, please! You've got to convince him. I can be good. I promise!"

Farlan hesitated, glancing between Isabel's desperate expression and Levi's stern glare. "I don't know..."

"Come on, Farlan!" Jean added, trying to rally support. "You can't just let him leave us behind!"

Eren chimed in, his tone indignant. "Yeah! We train just as hard as anyone else. We deserve to go!"

Sasha said with a grin, "This is better than dinner entertainment."

Farlan sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Levi, maybe... maybe just let them come. The MPs invited a big group, right? What's three more?"

Levi's glare shifted to Farlan, disapproving. "And when they start breaking things or spilling drinks, who's dealing with the fallout? Me."

Before the argument could escalate further, Hange appeared, sauntering into the group with her signature grin. "What's all this fuss about? Oh, let them come, Levi. The MPs asked for a big group anyway, didn't they?"

"Hange—"

"Think about it," Hange interrupted, throwing an arm around Isabel's shoulder. "What's a ball without a little chaos? Besides, I'm sure these three can behave themselves. Right?" She shot a pointed look at Isabel, Jean, and Eren.

"Of course!" Isabel exclaimed, nodding vigorously.

Jean straightened, his face determined. "I'll be on my best behavior."

Eren crossed his arms, grumbling, "Yeah, yeah. Fine."

Levi shot her a look that promised she'd regret those words. "Fine. They can come. But if any of you screw this up, you're cleaning the barracks for a month. Alone."

Isabel let out a triumphant cheer, throwing her arms around Farlan. "You're the best!"

Jean glanced at Mikasa, his face lighting up with hope again, while Eren just muttered under his breath about how stupid balls were.

Levi turned to Petra, who looked torn between amusement and exasperation. "Add their names to the list," he said flatly.

Petra nodded, jotting the additions down as Hange leaned closer to Levi, her grin as wide as ever. "See? That wasn't so bad."

Levi shot her a sidelong glare before speaking, his tone sharper than before. "There's one more thing."

The group, now with Isabel, Jean, and Eren added, perked up, their curiosity piqued.

"You'll all need to find a partner," Levi said, his voice heavy with finality.

For a moment, there was silence as everyone processed his words. Then:

Jean spun around immediately, his eyes locking onto Mikasa. "Mikasa! You should go with me!" he blurted, his voice full of eager determination.

Mikasa raised an eyebrow, her expression unreadable.

Before she could say a word, Levi's gaze darted to Jean, and for the briefest moment, his usually calm exterior cracked. His jaw tightened, his hands flexed, and his eyes narrowed dangerously. But before Levi could unleash his growing annoyance, Eren stepped in.

"No way!" Eren snapped, his tone full of disdain as he stepped in front of Mikasa like a human shield. "There's no chance she's going with a horse-face like you."

Jean bristled, pointing an accusing finger at Eren. "Oh yeah? Who else would she go with then, huh? You? Titan bait?"

Eren growled, his fists clenching. "Say that again, you arrogant—"

"You heard me, Eren!"

Before the argument could escalate further, they both turned to Mikasa in unison, their faces a mix of stubbornness and desperation.

"Well? Who would you choose?" Jean demanded.

"Yeah, Mikasa," Eren added, glaring at Jean. "Who?"

Mikasa stared at them, her expression completely flat. "Seriously?"

Before either of them could argue again, Levi's calm but icy voice cut through the tension like a blade. "Ackerman will go with me."

The sudden declaration silenced the group, and all heads turned to Levi.

Hange, Sasha, and Isabel gasped simultaneously, their knowing glances exchanged in a flash. Sasha barely stifled a giggle, while Isabel grinned like the cat that got the cream.

Mikasa's eyes widened briefly in surprise before a subtle smile tugged at her lips. The anticipation of going with Levi warmed her chest, and the slight hint of jealousy he'd shown toward Jean only made it more satisfying.

Jean, however, looked utterly flabbergasted. "What? Why?"

Eren, crossing his arms, huffed. "Fine by me. Better than her going with a horse-face."

Jean rounded on Eren again. "What did you just say, you—"

But Levi's glare silenced both of them, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Orders. And because I said so. Now shut it."

Ymir, meanwhile, had taken advantage of the chaos to sidle up to Krista. Draping an arm around Krista's shoulder, she grinned. "Guess that means you're with me, right?"

Krista blinked, her cheeks flushing slightly. "I—I guess so."

Ymir smirked, her confidence radiating as she glanced at the group. "See? At least someone here has some sense."

Sasha, still struggling to keep a straight face, whispered to Connie, "Did you see Jean's face? Priceless."

Connie snorted, whispering back, "I'd pay to watch him try to argue with Captain again."

As the recruits stood awkwardly, still buzzing from Levi's unexpected declaration, Hange clapped her hands together, her grin as bright as ever. "Oh, before you all scatter off to sulk or celebrate, there's one more thing we need to address!"

Levi raised an eyebrow, his patience visibly thinning. "What now?"

Hange ignored his tone, turning to address the group. "Since it's a ball, and we're trying not to look like we just crawled out of the forest, we'll need to pick out formal attire for everyone."

The recruits exchanged glances. Sasha blinked. "Formal attire?"

"Yes, Sasha, formal attire," Hange said with exaggerated flair. "The squad leaders, myself included, already have something decent to wear, but you recruits..." She trailed off, giving them a pointed once-over.

Connie glanced down at his scuffed uniform, shrugging. "What's wrong with this? It's got character."

Jean groaned. "What do you think, genius? It looks like you wrestled a Titan and lost. We're going to a ball, not another training session."

"Exactly," Hange said, grinning. "Which is why we'll all be heading into town to pick out some proper outfits. You'll need to look sharp!"

Eren frowned. "Do we really have to?"

"Yes," Hange replied firmly, her grin widening. "Even you, Eren."

Levi crossed his arms, his tone clipped as he interjected, "You can handle that. I'm not wasting my time babysitting a bunch of recruits while they try on overpriced clothes."

Hange turned to him with a sly glint in her eye. "Oh, come on, Levi. Don't you want to see them fumbling through racks of fancy attire?" She paused, her gaze flicking briefly to Mikasa, before she added with a subtle gesture—a quick nod in Mikasa's direction that only Levi caught.

Levi's eyes narrowed slightly. Hange didn't even try to hide the knowing grin on her face, and he sighed, long and slow, as he weighed his options.

His initial instinct was to refuse outright, but the thought of watching the recruits—her specifically—try to navigate something as ridiculous as formal wear had an odd appeal. His gaze flicked to Mikasa, who was standing quietly, her usual calm demeanor intact, but there was an upward curve to her lips as though she'd noticed the exchange.

"Tsk," Levi muttered. "Fine. But don't step out of the line." He said turning to the group.

The recruits exchanged a mixture of surprised and nervous looks.

"Wait, he's coming?" Connie whispered to Sasha.

"Captain in a dress shop," Sasha whispered back, stifling a laugh. "This is going to be great."

Hange clapped her hands again. "Perfect! We'll head out in a bit, so go get ready."

The group dispersed.

Hange lingered behind, her grin unrelenting. "So, Levi," she teased, "taking Mikasa, huh? I am glad you took my advice. Should I start preparing a congratulatory speech now?"

Levi shot her a deadly glare. "Not. Another. Word."

****************************

The group trudged into town, a strange mix of awkwardness and energy. Most of the recruits had never been to this part of the city, let alone into a shop meant for anything but military gear. The cobblestone streets were bustling, the chatter of vendors and townsfolk filling the air.

"Do not wander," Levi ordered. "I don't have the patience to deal with any of you getting lost or causing trouble."

"Yes, Captain," the recruits chorused, though their tones ranged from obedient to begrudging.

The recruits trailed behind Levi in a loose line, their heads swiveling to take in the unfamiliar sights and sounds.

"Is this where rich people shop?" Connie whispered to Sasha, eyeing a particularly shiny display of jewelry.

"Probably," Sasha muttered, her attention already shifting to a bakery across the street. Her eyes lit up like she'd discovered buried treasure. "Is that a bakery?"

Before anyone could stop her, Sasha began veering toward the shop, the tantalizing aroma of freshly baked goods calling to her like a siren's song.

"Blouse."

She froze mid-step, turning back with the sheepish grin of a child caught stealing cookies. "Just... stretching my legs, sir."

Levi's gaze didn't waver. "Your legs will be stretching on laps later if you wander off again."

Connie snickered quietly, only to receive a glare from Levi that wiped the grin off his face instantly.

"Why does she get away with everything?" Jean muttered.

The group soon arrived at the shop, its polished windows displaying mannequins clad in formal attire that looked alien to the recruits. The doorbell chimed as they entered, and they were immediately greeted by two sections of the store—one for men, the other for women.

Jean held up a bright green suit with gold embroidery, inspecting it like he'd just discovered a hidden treasure. "This looks sharp. Right?"

Connie choked on a laugh. "Sharp? You'll look like a walking cabbage."

Jean scowled, hugging the suit closer like it was his prized possession. "Oh, and you've got better taste? What's that you're holding?"

Connie grinned devilishly, holding up a bright orange jacket with oversized lapels. "Bold. Daring. It says, 'I'm here to party.'"

"It says, 'I just escaped from a circus,'" Armin muttered under his breath, earning a stifled laugh from Eren.

Jean turned to Armin, narrowing his eyes. "And what's your idea of style, scholar?"

Armin held up a plain gray tie with shaky hands. "This seems practical..."

Jean groaned, turning his attention back to Eren, who was holding up a stiff gray suit. "What about you? Is this your idea of 'formal'? What are you, a tax collector? No wonder Mikasa didn't—"

"Enough," Levi's voice sliced through the chaos like a blade. He strode over with a look of pure exasperation, pinching the bridge of his nose as if just being near them was causing him physical pain. "Give me that."

He plucked the green suit from Jean's hands, the orange jacket from Connie's, and the gray suit from Eren, tossing them onto a nearby rack with disdain.

"Do you all have any sense?" Levi muttered, his tone dangerously low as he glared at them.

"Clearly not," Farlan said with a smirk, stepping in with far less frustration. "Alright, let's try this again." He pulled a sleek black suit from the rack and handed it to Jean. "Here. Simple, sharp, doesn't make you look like a vegetable." And Eren a navy blue one with subtle silver accents.

Jean frowned, holding the suit at arm's length. "This feels boring."

"Boring is better than ridiculous," Levi snapped, handing a crisp white shirt to Connie. "Put it on before I start picking out dresses for you instead."

Connie grinned, "would you? Bet I'd rock it."

Levi's glare could've turned him to stone. "Try me."

Connie immediately ducked behind the rack, "Nope. Shirt's fine. Shirt's great."

Meanwhile, Armin held up a tie, his brow furrowed in quiet fascination. "Do you... do you tie this, or does it just... clip on?"

Levi sighed. "You're hopeless. Come here."

Eren, still holding his navy suit, stared at the group with thinly veiled annoyance. "Why are we even doing this? It's just a stupid ball. Do we really need all this fancy stuff?"

Jean rolled his eyes. "Says the guy who probably can't even button up a shirt without Mikasa's help."

"Shut up, Jean,"

"Make me, Titan bait."

Farlan stepped between them, holding up his hands. "Alright, boys. Let's keep the fights outside the store, yeah? Levi's patience is already running thin."

Levi scoffed. "It's not running thin. It's nonexistent."

On the other side of the shop, the girls were having their own struggles. The racks were filled with every imaginable style, from understated elegance to bold and dramatic, but Mikasa seemed unimpressed by all of it.

"Mikasa, look at this one!" Petra said enthusiastically, holding up a soft pink gown with delicate lace details.

Mikasa barely glanced at it. "No."

"Okay, but what about this one?" Hange interjected, dramatically flourishing a flowing red dress with billowing sleeves.

"No," Mikasa said flatly, crossing her arms.

"Do you like anything?" Sasha asked, rifling through the racks. She pulled out a glittering gold dress and held it up with a proud grin. "Because I think this one's kind of cute!"

Ymir's jaw dropped, horrified. "Krista would disappear in that," she said, slinging an arm around Krista's shoulders protectively. "You're going with me, so we'll find something classy. Not... that."

Krista's cheeks flushed. "Ymir, stop embarrassing me!"

Meanwhile, Isabel was spinning in place, holding a bright purple dress against herself. "Look at this one! It's got pockets!" she squealed.

Petra sighed. "Isabel, this isn't about pockets."

"It's always about pockets," Isabel countered with a grin, holding the dress tighter.

Hange, trying to salvage the situation, leaned closer to Mikasa with a sleek black dress. It was simple yet striking, featuring a high slit and minimal embellishments. "Okay, what about this one? It's elegant, intimidating, and screams, 'don't mess with me.'"

Mikasa tilted her head slightly, her boredom easing as she inspected the dress. "Maybe."

"Maybe?" Hange said dramatically, clasping her hands over her heart. "That's progress!"

Petra smiled, her patience finally paying off. "She's picky, but I think this one could work. Try it on, Mikasa."

With a reluctant sigh, Mikasa took the dress and headed to the changing room. "Fine."

Meanwhile, Sasha was holding up a ruffled pink monstrosity that looked like it had been designed for a giant cupcake. "Do you think Captain would let me wear this?" she asked, a mischievous grin spreading across her face.

Ymir let out a snort. "I think he'd make you do laps in it."

Levi glanced over to the girls' section briefly, catching Mikasa disappearing into a changing room with the black dress in hand. His gaze lingered for a moment, his eyes softening just slightly before Farlan nudged him.

"You're staring," Farlan teased, his tone amused.

"Shut up," Levi muttered, turning his attention back to the boys, who were now hopelessly tangled in a debate over ties.

Moments later, Mikasa reemerged, still dissatisfied. She sat in a chair nearby, arms crossed and her expression unreadable as she watched the others. Petra, Hange, and Sasha continued to sift through racks, while Isabel modeled yet another ridiculous dress for Krista and Ymir.

Then, Hange stumbled across a strikingly bold backless dress with intricate detailing. She held it up to Mikasa with a grin. "What about this one? It's daring, sexy, and guaranteed to turn heads!"

Mikasa's eyes narrowed, her expression stiff. "No."

"Come on," Hange urged, holding the dress closer. "It'll look amazing on you! You'd knock them all out—figuratively and literally."

"It's too revealing," Mikasa said, her tone firm and leaving no room for negotiation.

Hange wasn't deterred. "You'll look incredible! Show a little skin—it's a ball, not a funeral!"

Levi, who had been passing by, stopped in his tracks as he overheard the exchange. His eyes darted to the dress in Hange's hands before landing on Mikasa, who sat stiffly, clearly uncomfortable.

"It's too revealing," she repeated, her voice quieter this time.

Levi's jaw tightened as understanding flickered across his face. He thought back to the scar she bore on her lower back, one she always kept hidden.

Without a word, Levi stepped into the conversation, his gaze cutting to Hange. "She said no."

Hange blinked, taken aback. "Levi, I'm just trying to—"

"She doesn't want it," Levi said evenly, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Mikasa glanced at Levi, a hint of gratitude in her expression.

Hange frowned but relented, placing the dress back on the rack. "Fine, fine. You're no fun."

Levi, lingering nearby, allowed his eyes to drift over the dresses until one caught his attention. Quietly, he tilted his head toward it. "What about that one?"

Mikasa followed his gaze to a navy blue evening gown that seemed to shimmer under the shop lights. The bodice was covered in tiny, intricate sparkles, catching the light like a starry sky. The flowing tulle skirt gave it a soft, ethereal quality, while the delicate ribbons tied at the straps added an understated elegance. It had a V-neckline that showed just a hint of cleavage and a high slit on one side, balancing boldness with refinement.

Hange paused mid-rummage. "Ooooh, Captain, you've got good taste," she teased with a sly grin. "Didn't know you were into fashion."

Levi ignored her. "Try it," he suggested.

Mikasa blinked, her gaze shifting between Levi and the dress. "It's... nice," she admitted quietly.

"Nice?" Hange repeated with a laugh. "It's stunning. It's perfect for you!" She plucked it off the rack and handed it to Mikasa with an exaggerated flourish. "Go on, try it on. You've got the Captain's approval, after all."

Mikasa sighed. "Fine," she murmured, heading back to the changing room.

Levi watched her retreating figure, there was a subtle satisfaction in his gaze.

"Captain's approval, huh?" Farlan whispered under his breath, sidling up to Levi with a knowing smirk.

Levi shot him a look. "Don't start."

Farlan chuckled, backing off, but the grin didn't leave his face.

Hange, meanwhile, was practically vibrating with excitement, clapping her hands together. "I can't wait to see her in it. She's going to knock everyone dead—figuratively, of course. I hope."

Levi didn't respond, his attention lingering on the closed door of the changing room. He didn't need to say it, but in his mind, there was no doubt—Mikasa in that dress would outshine anything the MPs could throw at them.

Moments later, she stepped out but not in that navy blue dress. He'd waited, subtly glancing toward the door every now and then, but when she emerged, it was back in her plain clothes, the gown folded neatly over her arm. It left an unwelcome twinge of disappointment in his chest, though he pushed it aside.

The group finally settled on their attire after what felt like an eternity of chaotic decision-making. With bags in hand, they left the shop and made their way back to HQ.

****************************

Two days later, the long-anticipated ball day had arrived. By mid-afternoon, the HQ was bustling with activity. Those attending the ball had been excused from their usual grueling training schedule and were now scrambling to get ready. The selected attendees included Erwin, Hange, Levi, a few other squad leaders, and a mix of veterans and recruits: Petra, Oluo, Gunther, Eld, Mikasa, Armin, Eren, Sasha, Connie, Jean, Ymir, Krista, Isabel, and Farlan.

The pairs had been set earlier: Erwin and Hange, Levi and Mikasa, Connie and Sasha, Farlan and Isabel, Oluo and Petra, Jean and Eren had been paired with some random girls they barely knew, much to their dismay.

The main hall of HQ was already filled with most of the men, all awkwardly dressed in their formal attire. Levi stood near the center. He wore a sleek, perfectly tailored black suit with a crisp white shirt and a charcoal gray cravat secured with a silver pin engraved with the Survey Corps insignia. His polished black shoes and demeanor completed the effortlessly commanding look.

"Where are they?" Levi muttered, his tone clipped as his patience thinned. "We don't have all day."

"They're probably figuring out which shoes match their gowns."

"Or arguing about who gets the last mirror," Oluo chimed in.

Eren was glaring at the mirror, fumbling with his tie. "What's the point of these stupid things? I'm going to strangle myself with this before the night's over."

"You're doing it wrong," Jean said, stepping over to fix it. "It's not that hard. Watch."

"I don't need your help, horse-face," Eren snapped, batting his hands away.

"Oh, sure, struggle then," Jean shot back, rolling his eyes.

"Where's Armin? He hasn't even shown up yet."

"Probably got cold feet," Connie joked. "Who's his partner anyway? Another random girl?"

Jean scoffed. "Definitely. No way someone willingly said yes to him."

Before anyone could reply, the sound of soft footsteps echoed through the hall. All heads turned as Annie Leonhart stepped in with Armin, dressed in a sleek, ice-blue gown that hugged her figure perfectly. Her usually cold demeanor hadn't changed, but there was a subtle grace to the way she carried herself.

The collective gasp was almost comical.

"Wait, what?" Jean sputtered, his eyes wide. "Annie? How? She's not even part of the Survey Corps!"

Connie's jaw dropped. "Armin, explain yourself!"

"I sent her a letter. Asked her if she wanted to go."

"You—" Eren started, staring at Armin like he'd grown another head. "And she said yes? Just like that?"

Annie's gaze swept over them, her lips twitching into the faintest smirk. "Is it that hard to believe?"

They collectively yelled. "YES!"

"Calm down, Jean," Annie said, crossing her arms. "You're embarrassing yourself."

"I'm embarrassing—" Jean groaned, dragging a hand down his face. "I need to sit down."

Connie leaning toward Armin. "How did you even know where to send the letter?"

Armin shrugged, "I have my ways."

Jean shook his head, muttering under his breath. "Armin's pulling off miracles, and we're stuck with random girls."

"They've got five minutes," he muttered darkly, "or we're leaving without them," referring to the girls.

The soft click of heels against the floor signaled the girls' arrival as Mikasa, Sasha, Ymir, Krista, and Isabel entered the main hall together along with other girls. The room buzzed instantly, conversations sparking as the pairs began to find each other.

Levi's gaze, however, locked onto Mikasa the moment she stepped in. She wore the navy blue dress he'd picked for her that hugged her hourglass shape fitting her perfectly, accentuating her pale skin, the shimmering bodice catching the faint light and the high slit in the skirt swaying gracefully as she walked. Her hair was tied up in a simple bun, leaving her elegant neckline exposed, and the only adornment she wore was the bracelet Levi had given her—a delicate piece of intertwined leather cords with a silver bird charm. She wore a light shade of lipstick.

Mikasa caught his gaze and felt heat creeping up her neck. She shifted slightly, fidgeting with the hem of her dress. She wasn't used to such attention, and the idea of wearing something this formal felt foreign. She couldn't help but wonder, Does this look okay?

Her eyes trailed over to Levi, and her breath hitched slightly. She'd never seen him in anything other than his uniform. The suit he wore hugged his form perfectly, accentuating his lean, muscular build. The crisp lines of his jacket, paired with the subtle elegance of his cravat, made him look both commanding and handsome.

Hange and Erwin entered shortly after, dressed and ready for the event.

Her eyes landing on Mikasa. Her grin widened, and she let out an exaggerated squeal.

"Oh. My. Walls! Mikasa, you look stunning! You're like... grace and power wrapped in navy blue perfection!"

Mikasa gave a small smile, "Thank you."

Hange clapped her hands together, grinning at the assembled group. "Wow! Look at all of you! You clean up surprisingly well."

She shot Levi a cheeky grin. "Even you, Captain. I didn't think you owned anything that wasn't bloodstained."

Levi ignored her, his eyes flicking back to Mikasa as the others began chatting and pairing up.

Mikasa made her way over to him. She stopped just in front of him, her hands brushing the fabric of her dress nervously. Levi stared, his usual composed demeanor faltering for the briefest moment. He was too stunned to speak.

Mikasa shifted uncomfortably under his intense gaze, her voice quieter than usual. "Is something wrong?"

Levi blinked, realizing how openly he'd been staring. "No," he said gruffly, though his voice was softer than usual. "Nothing's wrong."

The rest of the group had filed out, their chatter fading as they headed toward the carriages. Mikasa glanced toward them but made no move to follow just yet.

Levi's chest constricted. Oh, what I would give to be alone with you right now, he thought, his control teetering on the edge.

The thought of anyone else laying eyes on her tonight—seeing what he was seeing—sent a surge of possessiveness through him.

He closed the distance between them without thinking, his hand reaching out to gently yet firmly wrap around her wrist. Mikasa froze, her wide eyes meeting his as a subtle gasp escaped her lips. His touch was searing against her skin, and she couldn't look away even if she tried.

"You're..." Levi's voice was low, rough, almost like a growl, his restraint hanging by a thread. "Beautiful."

The words carried a weight that sent a shiver through her, his gaze heavy with unspoken desire. His thumb brushed slow, deliberate circles against the soft skin of her wrist, drawing goosebumps in its wake.

He leaned in, his breath warm and tantalizing against her ear, close enough that she could feel the heat radiating from him. His voice dropped further, husky and edged with something dangerous. "Do you have any idea... what you're doing to me right now?"

Mikasa's heart raced, her cheeks flushing as his intensity wrapped around her like a vice. She tried to ground herself, tried to remember the others waiting outside, but Levi's presence was all-consuming.

"Levi," she murmured, her voice soft but firm.

His hand slid from her wrist to her palm, his fingers lacing with hers as he tilted his head. "What?" he asked, his voice quieter now, but no less charged.

Her free hand pressed gently against his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath her fingertips. "We have to go," she said with a plea to ground him—and herself.

Levi exhaled slowly, the sound filled with reluctance as if stepping away from her required every ounce of his discipline. His fingers lingered on hers, tracing one last deliberate line down her palm before finally releasing her.

He straightened, every muscle in his body screaming to close the space again. His gaze lingered on her, heavy and smoldering, filled with a hunger. "Right," he muttered.

As Mikasa nodded, preparing to turn, Levi leaned in just slightly, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. "When we get back tonight..." His lips curved into a faint, knowing smirk. "You're mine."

Mikasa's breath caught, her cheeks warming as her eyes widened briefly. She quickly turned to follow the others, her heartbeat hammering in her chest.

But as they walked, she could still feel the weight of his gaze, searing into her back, a quiet promise in the smirk that hadn't left his face. He watched her, knowing full well the effect his words had on her. "All mine," he murmured.

****************************

The carriages rumbled through the cobblestone streets, their wheels clattering softly against the stone. Levi, Mikasa, Hange, and Erwin shared one, the silence occasionally broken by Hange's animated chatter about how extravagant the ball was rumored to be.

"I heard they have champagne fountains," Hange said, gesturing wildly as Erwin calmly adjusted his cufflinks. "Champagne. Fountains."

"Hange, nobody cares," Levi muttered, his gaze fixed out the small window, though he occasionally stole a glance at Mikasa. She was composed as ever, her hands resting on her lap, but Levi noticed the way her fingers lightly fidgeted with the bracelet he'd given her.

Erwin gave a faint smile. "Just remember we're here to represent the Survey Corps. Let's not turn this into another... incident."

"Relax, Erwin. I promise to behave. Mostly," Hange replied with a grin.

The carriages pulled to a stop in front of a grand hall near the Military Police Headquarters. The building was illuminated by lanterns and chandeliers, the soft golden light spilling out onto the cobblestone streets. It was already night, the air cool but buzzing with an energy that felt foreign to most of the Survey Corps members.

The group stepped out one by one, adjusting their formalwear. Hange looped her arm through Erwin's with a wide grin. "Shall we, Commander?"

Erwin nodded, his usual composed demeanor perfectly intact as they stepped toward the grand entrance. Draven stood near the door, waiting to greet them. His smile was practiced and welcoming as he extended his hand toward Erwin.

"Commander Smith. Captain Hange. Welcome," Draven said smoothly, gesturing for them to enter. They walked in, drawing the first curious glances from the Military Police officers mingling inside.

The rest of the group followed in pairs, some looking awkward, others clearly out of their element. Whispers rippled through the grand hall as the Survey Corps entered, their more practical and unpolished demeanor clashing with the opulence of the room.

But then, Levi and Mikasa stepped inside.

The room stilled.

Levi, with his black suit and unshakable aura of authority, looked every bit the commanding figure, his presence impossible to ignore. Beside him, Mikasa was breathtaking. The navy blue gown shimmered with every step she took, the flowing skirt giving her a regal air. Her effortless grace, combined with her striking features, made her seem almost otherworldly.

A collective hush fell over the hall as heads turned, conversations halting mid-sentence. Men and women alike stared openly, jaws slack and eyes wide, as if the pair had stepped out of a dream.

Levi's gaze scanned the room, immediately catching sight of a few men whose stares lingered far too long on Mikasa. His jaw tightened, the flicker of possessiveness from earlier returning in full force. His hand shifted slightly, tightening where it rested against hers.

Mikasa, catching the movement, glanced up at him in silent question. Levi didn't look at her, his gaze fixed on the crowd, but his grip told her everything she needed to know.

Hange, already inside, turned back to see the reaction and grinned. "Oh, they've definitely made an impression," she murmured to Erwin.

Levi leaned slightly toward Mikasa as they continued walking, his voice low and edged with irritation. "They're staring at you like idiots."

Mikasa's lips curved into a subtle smirk, though she kept her gaze forward. "You're the one who told me I looked beautiful."

As they moved further into the grand hall, Mikasa's eyes caught a group of women near the far side of the room, their gazes unmistakably fixed on Levi. They whispered among themselves, glancing his way with poorly concealed admiration. One even giggled, covering her mouth with a gloved hand.

Mikasa's grip on Levi's arm tightening just a fraction. She tilted her head slightly toward him, her voice low but edged with snark. "Looks like you've got a fan club forming over there, Captain."

Levi's gaze flicked briefly to the group, his expression the same as always, before returning to Mikasa. "Hmph," he muttered, barely sparing the women another glance. "They can stare all they want. Doesn't mean a damn thing."

"Oh, so you noticed?"

"I notice everything."

Mikasa hummed in mock thoughtfulness. "Good to know. You seem pretty popular, though. Maybe you should—"

"Don't even start," Levi interrupted, his voice low enough for only her to hear. His grip on her hand shifted slightly, his thumb brushing against hers in a fleeting, possessive gesture. "I'm not interested in them. And you know it."

Mikasa felt her cheeks warm at his words, her earlier jealousy fading into something softer, though she refused to let him off the hook entirely. "Just making sure."

"You don't need to."

The rest of the Survey Corps group was scattered awkwardly throughout the grand hall, their discomfort evident as they tried—and failed—to blend in with the refined crowd of Military Police officers and their guests.

Connie stood near a glittering buffet table, his expression a mix of awe and confusion. "Is that... a whole fish stuffed with tiny gold-plated fish?" he whispered to Sasha, pointing at a centerpiece platter.

Sasha, barely restraining herself, whispered back, "Forget the fish. Look at that roast. Do you think anyone would notice if I—"

"Nope. Nope. Nope." Connie grabbed her arm, hauling her back. "We're not starting an international incident over meat."

Jean tugged at his collar, scowling. "Why the hell are these suits so tight? It's like they don't want you to breathe."

Eren rolled his eyes. "Maybe they're just not used to fitting around giraffe necks."

Jean turned on him instantly, bristling. "Oh yeah? And what's your excuse, titan bait? That tie looks like it's hanging on for dear life."

"At least I didn't spend twenty minutes in front of a mirror practicing how to say 'good evening,'"

Ymir with Krista at her side. "They're like two drunk goats headbutting each other over a patch of grass."

Krista giggled softly. "Should we... stop them?"

"Nah," Ymir replied, folding her arms.

Meanwhile, Isabel twirled dramatically, her purple dress flaring out as she grinned up at Farlan. "Look! It spins! I'm like royalty!"

Farlan's patience clearly waning. "Isabel, stop. You're going to knock over that vase."

"I'm just testing its functionality!" she argued, spinning again—this time narrowly avoiding a waiter carrying a tray of champagne glasses.

"You're testing my patience," Oluo barked, glaring at her. "This isn't a playground!"

Petra sighed, stepping in like a long-suffering babysitter. "Oluo, stop yelling. You're not helping."

"I'm helping my sanity!" Oluo shot back, his voice growing louder.

Gunther chuckled, watching the scene unfold. "I give her five minutes before Captain—"

"Oi. Straighten up."

The entire group froze as if they'd been caught by an angry parent. Isabel stopped mid-spin, Sasha dropped the toothpick she'd been sneaking toward the roast, and Eren and Jean immediately took a step away from each other.

"You're embarrassing me," Levi muttered, his glare sweeping over them. "You're here as soldiers, not circus performers. Act like it."

"Sorry, sir!" Isabel squeaked, her hands clasped in front of her as she stood unnaturally straight.

"Even the waiters are judging us," Connie whispered to Sasha, who nodded solemnly, her eyes darting to a nearby server holding a tray with a look of mild disapproval.

Hange, standing with Erwin, stifled a laugh behind her hand. "They're like ducklings trying to pretend they're swans," she whispered.

"Give them time. They'll settle in."

But as another muffled argument between Eren and Jean began brewing, it became clear that "settling in" might take longer than expected.

Levi was steered toward a group of officials near the corner by Erwin and Hange. Despite his protests—grumbled under his breath, of course—he was left with no choice but to follow them, leaving Mikasa standing alone.

Not that she seemed to mind.

Mikasa stood with quiet confidence, her back straight and her hands resting lightly at her sides. The way she carried herself, with a grace and calmness that seemed almost natural, made her look like she belonged there—like royalty surveying her court. The shimmering navy gown only enhanced the image, and the occasional flick of her eyes around the room seemed to suggest she wasn't impressed by what she saw.

It was a striking juxtaposition for someone who had grown up in the depths of the Underground.

Unsurprisingly, her commanding presence didn't go unnoticed. Within moments, a few men—clearly emboldened by the elegant atmosphere and the drinks flowing freely—approached her.

The first, a man with slicked-back hair and a polished smile, stepped forward with a glass of champagne in hand. "Good evening, miss. I must say, you're the most stunning sight in the room tonight. Would you care for some company?"

Mikasa raised an eyebrow, as she glanced at the offered glass, then back to the man. "No, thank you."

Another man, undeterred by the first's failure, stepped up with a practiced charm. "Forgive my friend. He's a bit clumsy with words. But perhaps I could interest you in a dance instead?"

"I don't dance."

After politely fending off the string of persistent men, Mikasa turned and made her way across the grand hall. Her eyes landed on Annie, who stood near one of the towering columns, looking as out of place as she possibly could in her elegant pale blue gown.

Annie's eyes scanned the room like she was assessing threats rather than enjoying herself. Mikasa couldn't blame her. This kind of event wasn't exactly either of their idea of a good time.

Approaching her quietly, Mikasa offered a subtle nod. "You look nice."

Annie blinked, momentarily caught off guard by the unexpected compliment. Her gaze flicked to Mikasa's gown, taking in the navy blue shimmer and graceful cut. "So do you," she said sincerely.

A quiet pause settled between them, neither particularly adept at small talk, but there was a mutual understanding that made the silence comfortable rather than awkward.

Finally, Annie tilted her head slightly, her gaze landing briefly on Mikasa's bracelet before she added, "That suits you. The bracelet."

Mikasa glanced down at it, her fingers brushing over the leather cords and the silver bird charm. "Thanks."

Annie's eyes flicked back to the crowd, where Armin was standing in the middle of what appeared to be yet another brewing argument between Eren and Jean. She sighed quietly. "Your idiot brother and Jean are at it again."

Mikasa followed her gaze, watching as Armin raised his hands in an attempt to mediate. "I'll deal with them later."

Annie smirked. "You've got patience. I'd have thrown one of them out a window by now."

"Sometimes it's tempting."

The two women stood in companionable silence for a moment longer.

Then Mikasa turned to Annie. "I didn't know you and Armin were... paired for tonight. How did that happen?"

"He asked."

Mikasa blinked. "He asked?"

"Sent me a letter," Annie clarified as if it were the most mundane thing in the world. "Figured it'd be less irritating than listening to anyone else here."

A flicker of surprise crossed Mikasa's face. Armin, sending a letter? It wasn't entirely out of character for him to think ahead, but asking someone like Annie—stoic, blunt, and distant—was definitely unexpected. "And you said yes?"

"Why wouldn't I? He's tolerable."

Mikasa almost smiled at Annie's choice of words, knowing full well that "tolerable" was high praise coming from her. "That's... unexpected."

"Is it?" Annie asked. "He's the only one here who doesn't talk just to hear himself. Doesn't waste time with nonsense."

"I guess that makes sense."

Annie shrugged lightly, her eyes still fixed on Armin as he finally managed to de-escalate the argument. "He's different. Not like the others."

Mikasa hummed softly in agreement, her gaze lingering on Armin. "He is."

Mikasa's eyes flicked between Annie and Armin as he approached. Annie's gaze followed him as well, her usual stoic demeanor softening by just a fraction.

A quiet realization dawned on Mikasa, and a small smirk tugged at the corner of her lips.

"You like him."

Annie's eyes snapped to Mikasa. "What?"

Mikasa's smirk grew. "You like Armin."

Annie's expression remained neutral, but a faint hint of color dusted her cheeks. "You're imagining things."

"Am I? You just said he's different. Not like the others. That's high praise coming from you."

"He's tolerable," she repeated, her tone clipped.

"Hmm," Mikasa hummed knowingly.

Before Annie could retort, Armin joined them, letting out a weary sigh. "Eren and Jean are impossible," he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. "I think they're trying to compete over who can get kicked out of the ball first."

"Sounds about right," Mikasa replied smoothly, still watching Annie out of the corner of her eye.

Mikasa couldn't resist the urge to stir the pot just a little more.

"You handled it well," Mikasa said to Armin. "Annie was just saying how much she appreciates your... level-headedness."

Annie's head snapped toward Mikasa, her eyes narrowing into a glare that promised retribution.

Armin blinked in surprise, looking between the two of them. "Oh, uh... thanks?"

Annie huffed, clearly done with the conversation. "I'm getting a drink."

As soon as she was out of earshot, Armin glanced at Mikasa. "What was that about?"

"Nothing," Mikasa replied smoothly, her lips twitching into a knowing smile as she watched Annie retreat.

Nothing... except that Mikasa had just found her new favorite hobby.

Mikasa scanned the room, her eyes darting through the sea of people. She was trying to spot Levi, but he was nowhere to be found. A faint crease formed on her brow, irritation bubbling under her calm exterior. Shrugging it off, she made her way to the refreshment table, grabbing a glass of water.

As she stood there, taking a sip, the lights in the grand hall dimmed. A single spotlight illuminated the center of the dance floor.

A charismatic announcer's voice rang out, cutting through the buzz of conversation. "Ladies and gentlemen, it's time for the first dance of the evening. Pairs, make your way to the floor."

Mikasa barely reacted, indifferent as couples began pairing off and gliding toward the dance floor. It wasn't her concern. She had no intention of participating in any of this unnecessary pomp.

"Not one for dancing?"

Mikasa turned her head, her gaze landing on a man she immediately recognized. Draven Callidus. The same man who had visited the Survey Corps with his unnerving interest in her lineage Levi had told her about.

"No," she said, setting her glass down.

Draven tilted his head, his smile unwavering as he stepped closer. "That's a shame. Someone like you—strong, graceful—you'd command the floor."

"I'm fine where I am."

Draven didn't back off. Instead, he extended a hand toward her, his polished tone carrying a quiet persistence. "One dance. Surely that wouldn't hurt?"

Mikasa stared at his outstretched hand, her eyes narrowing. She didn't like how close he was, nor the way he was looking at her—not with admiration, but with something far more calculating.

"No."

Draven leaned in closer, his polished smile never faltering, his voice dropping to a whisper. "You know, Miss Ackerman, strength like yours is rare. It's... captivating."

Mikasa stiffened, her fingers curling into a fist at her side as she resisted the urge to shove him away. His tone, his proximity, everything about him set her on edge.

Before she could respond, a voice cut through the tense air. "Back off."

Draven straightened, startled but quickly masking it, as Levi stepped into view. His gray eyes were colder than steel, radiating menace. The air around him seemed to thrum with barely contained fury.

"Ah, Captain Levi," Draven said, straightening his posture. "I didn't realize you were here."

"You do now," Levi replied as he stepped between Draven and Mikasa, his back to her like a shield.

"I was merely—"

"You were pushing your luck," Levi interrupted. "Leave. Now."

Draven stepping back, gave a forced smile as he gave a shallow bow of his head. "Of course. My apologies, Miss Ackerman. Captain." He turned on his heel without another word.

Mikasa let out a quiet breath, her posture relaxing slightly as Levi's gaze flicked to her. His eyes, however, still burned with an intensity.

"You're here to ask me for a dance too?" Mikasa teased.

Without warning, his hand shot out, his fingers wrapping firmly around it. "Something better," he said, his voice with an edge.

Mikasa blinked, startled but not resisting as he tugged her gently but firmly. The table they had been standing at was at the very back of the hall, away from prying eyes. With the lights dimmed across the room, no one noticed as Levi led her out of the ballroom through a discreet side door.

Levi led her swiftly through the dimly lit hall. Mikasa's breath hitched, not in fear but in anticipation. The tight corridors they wove through brought them into a secluded tight space—dim, and quiet.

As soon as they were out of sight, Levi turned abruptly, his hands finding her face as he kissed her with fierce intensity. It wasn't soft; it was a storm of bottled-up emotions, of jealousy, desire, and possessiveness spilling over all at once. His lips claimed hers, drawing a muffled gasp from her as she instinctively gripped the front of his jacket.

One hand trailed down her body, finding the high slit of her dress. His fingers slid through it with ease, his touch grazing her bare skin, sending a jolt of heat coursing through her. With his other hand, he gripped her thigh, lifting her leg and hooking it over his shoulder, his strength effortless yet deliberate.

"Levi," Mikasa murmured breathlessly, her hands braced against his chest. "We can't... not here."

He pulled back slightly, just enough to look at her, his gray eyes darkened with raw intensity. "Don't care," he muttered as his body pressed into hers.

The faint friction of his movements against her sent a shiver up her spine. Her protests died on her lips as his mouth found the curve of her neck, his kisses rough and unyielding. Her pulse quickened, her body responding to the heat and urgency he exuded.

"Levi—" she tried again, but the way his hand traced her thigh, his lips grazing her collarbone, made her words falter.

"I don't share what's mine," he whispered against her skin. His grinding was deliberate, teasing.

Her hand gripped the back of his neck, her resistance melting under the weight of his fervor.

"I thought ... you said ... tonight-," she murmured, caught between exasperation and surrender.

Levi raised an eyebrow, "changed my mind."

His response was another fervent kiss, leaving no room for argument. In that moment, Levi didn't care about rules or appearances—only about claiming what was his, here and now.

His fingers had just begun tugging at his belt when the loud crash reverberated through the air, followed by panicked screams echoing from the hall. Mikasa froze, her heart leaping into her as she thought about her brothers and friends.

Levi cursed under his breath, his jaw tightening as he immediately released her and stepped back, his instincts kicking in. "Something's wrong," he muttered, his hands moving quickly to adjust his disheveled attire. Mikasa did the same, smoothing her dress and fixing her now undone hair.

Without another word, the two of them moved in tandem, sprinting toward the source of the noise. The elegant ball atmosphere they had left behind was now filled with shouts, hurried footsteps, and the crashing of overturned furniture.

As they rounded a corner in one of the side halls, three masked figures emerged from the shadows, blocking their path. Their movements were precise and calculated, their focus entirely on Mikasa. Levi's body tensed immediately, his stance protective as he instinctively stepped in front of her.

None of the men spoke.

Levi's hand moved to his side, pulling a small, concealed knife from his belt. His eyes flicked to Mikasa, a silent command passing between them.

Mikasa, calm and composed, reached under her dress where a hidden pouch was strapped to her other leg, opposite the slit. In one swift motion, she drew out a flicker blade, the weapon gleaming faintly in the low light.

The three figures didn't waste time. Two lunged forward, their attacks synchronized. Levi sidestepped effortlessly, his knife flashing as he parried one assailant's swing, deflecting the blow with precision. His counterstrike was quick and brutal, the blade slicing through the attacker's sleeve and drawing a sharp grunt of pain.

Mikasa moved like water, dodging the second man's attempt to grab her. Her flicker blade danced in her hand as she drove it toward him, the tip grazing his shoulder and forcing him to retreat.

The third figure, hanging back, reached into his belt and tossed something small and round onto the ground—a smoke bomb.

The corridor filled with a dense cloud of smoke, stinging their eyes and obscuring their vision. Levi swore under his breath. "Stay with me," he commanded.

"I'm fine."

A shadow darted through the smoke, and Mikasa reacted instantly, her blade slicing through the air. The attacker's weapon clattered to the ground as he stumbled back.

Levi was already on the move, his knife cutting through the haze as he closed the distance with another masked man. With one clean strike, Levi sent him reeling, clutching his arm in pain.

As the smoke began to clear, the remaining two attackers hesitated. The resolve in their body language faltered as they realized their plan wasn't going as expected.

Levi's voice broke through the silence, "Run while you can."

The masked men exchanged a brief glance before retreating, their footsteps fading into the distance.

Levi exhaled, lowering his knife slightly as he scanned the corridor for any lingering threats.

"We need to find the others," Mikasa said.

They sprinted toward the hall. When they reached the entrance, thick smoke billowed out, stinging their eyes and filling their lungs. The once-lavish ballroom was a scene of chaos—overturned tables, shattered glass, and panicked guests scrambling to escape.

"Eren! Armin! Isabel!" she called.

Levi spotted a couple of masked figures moving through the smoke. They weren't fleeing like the guests—they were searching.

"They're looking for something," Levi muttered.

Before either of them could act, the sound of heavy boots and shouted orders signaled the arrival of MP guards. The masked men hesitated for a split second before retreating, disappearing into the smoke and chaos as the MPs stormed the hall.

"Tch. Cowards," Levi growled.

"Eren and the others," Mikasa said urgently, tugging on Levi's arm. "They must have went outside with everyone else."

"Let's go."

The streets outside were chaotic, filled with frightened guests and MP guards trying to restore order. Mikasa's eyes darted through the throng of people until she spotted a familiar figure by a lamppost.

"There!" she said, pointing.

Sure enough, Eren, Armin, and Isabel were huddled together. Connie, Sasha, Krista, Ymir, and the rest of their group were scattered nearby, all looking shaken but safe.

"Mikasa!" Eren called, relief flooding his voice as they approached.

"You're all okay," Mikasa said, exhaling a breath she hadn't realized she was holding.

"Yeah," Isabel said, her voice shaky but defiant. "We bolted as soon as the smoke started filling the room."

"Good," Levi said curtly, his gaze sweeping over the group. "Anyone hurt?"

They all shook their heads.

Armin, ever observant, frowned. "Who were those masked men? They didn't seem like random attackers."

"They weren't," Levi said grimly. "They were looking for something—or someone. This wasn't just a random robbery."

"For now, we regroup."

The distant sound of accusatory whispers began to filter through the smoky air.

"This has never happened before," one MP muttered, his tone laced with suspicion. "Not in all the years we've held this ball."

"Exactly," another chimed in, casting a wary glance toward the regrouping Survey Corps members. "And yet, the first time the Survey Corps shows up..."

"...chaos follows," another finished. "Why did we even invite them in the first place?"

"They're always bringing trouble."

"What did we expect? They deal with Titans—they don't belong here."

Mikasa's ears caught every word, her hands balling into fists at her sides. Her eyes flicked to Levi, whose expression remained stoic, though his clenched jaw betrayed his simmering anger.

"They don't even fit in," someone else added, their tone dripping with contempt. "Look at them—an odd bunch playing dress-up."

"Shameful," a woman muttered. "We should've known better."

Eren looked ready to snap, his fists clenched tightly, while Armin's face turned pale, his eyes darting between the growing groups of MPs.

"Captain..." Armin began.

"Don't," Levi interrupted, his gaze cutting through the boy's unease. "Let them run their mouths. They'll eat their words soon enough."

Krista stepped closer to Ymir, her expression uneasy. "They're blaming us," she whispered.

"Of course they are," Ymir said. "It's easier than looking in a mirror."

Hange and Erwin joined the group moments later. "Well, they're not exactly rolling out the red carpet now, are they?"

Erwin's calm, authoritative tone broke through the murmur of discontent as he addressed the group. "Stay focused. Our presence here tonight was sanctioned, and this incident isn't our doing. Let them whisper if they must—they'll have no proof to back their claims."

Levi addressed the group. "Let's regroup and leave. We've had enough of their hospitality for one night."

****************************

When they returned to headquarters, the tension from the masked men lingered in the air like a heavy fog. It was already midnight, and the recruits were ordered to return to their barracks.

Levi, however, had no such reprieve.

Erwin signaled for him to come to his office immediately to discuss the night's events. Levi's nod indicated his understanding, though his gaze briefly flicked to Mikasa, who was standing near the entrance of the barracks with the others.

"Go rest," Levi said, his voice calm but firm.

She nodded.

The recruits around them were too drained to notice the exchange, their heads already down as they trudged toward their beds.

When everyone had gone to their rooms, she snuck off to her usual destination - Levi's room.

Levi had marched to Erwin's office. The debrief was short as they decided to discuss it in detail tomorrow.

He made his way back to his office. Levi pushed the door open, the faint creak breaking the stillness of the midnight hour. He stepped inside, his irritation from the evening's events still simmering under the surface. He had hoped for peace, though he doubted it would come anytime soon.

And then he saw her.

Mikasa sat perched on his desk, her back to the door as she faced the window. The moonlight cast a soft glow on her pale face, highlighting her face. The sight stopped Levi in his tracks, his breath hitching momentarily as he took her in.

"You're back," she said softly, glancing back.

Levi shut the door behind him, locking it. "Thought you'd gone to bed."

Her eyes searched his face. "What happened?"

"Nothing much," Levi said, his tone clipped as he shrugged off his jacket, draping it over the chair. "Just reported the encounter with those bastards to Erwin."

Mikasa frowned, her brows knitting together in concern. "Do you think they were after Eren? For his powers?"

Levi crossed the room, his steps slow, "it's not him they're after," he assured her.

Her lips pressed into a thin line, her worry evident. Levi's eyes lingered on her face, noting the subtle tension in her jaw and the flicker of unease in her expression.

"You didn't change," he said, the words breaking the quiet.

Mikasa tilted her head, a small smirk tugging at her lips. "You didn't tell me to."

Levi huffed softly, the faintest hint of a smirk crossing his lips. His fingers reached out, brushing against the soft fabric of her dress as he leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a near-whisper.

"Where were we?"

He closed the distance between them, capturing her lips with a ferocity that left no room for doubt. Her hands instinctively reaching for the front of his shirt, pulling him closer as the kiss deepened.

Her legs wrapped around his waist, and her arse was shaped to perfection for Levi to grasp with both hands as he lifted her up and carried her to the adjoining bedroom, plundering her mouth with his own as they ground together.

Inside the room, he let her down from his arms slowly, she slide against his body, lips not parting, tongues dueling as he slid his hands up through the slit of her dress. His large calloused hands skimmed lightly over her skin as he let them grasp her breasts over her lacy black bra. Levi played with the edges where skin met fabric. Mikasa's nipples strained against the cloth, he could feel them grow tight at the stimulation of his talented fingers. He broke the mating of their mouths and deftly pulled the straps of her dress, the fabric sliding down her skin to her waist.

He stopped just to look at her, flushed with desire, lips full and bruised from their kisses. He turned her toward the wall, her back towards him.

"Wha-"

"I told you, you are all mine when we get back tonight."

He pinned her hands above her against the cold wall pressing them with one hand, so she would know not to leave them. His fingers trailed down her arms and over the soft skin of her back. He leaned forward to trail small kisses behind her neck. So light that they were almost little breaths. Levi inhaled the fragrance of her, one that only Mikasa invaded his senses with. His kisses became harder as he trailed his lips across her shoulders. He slipped one strap off of her bra, then the other. Soon his kisses became nips and he undid the clasp.

Bending lower, he laved at the red marks that the tight navy blue dress left on her back with his tongue. He let his hands roam under the now loose cups and plucked at her nipples. Levi pulled Mikasa's arms down to let her bra fall off her perfect breasts and kneaded them as he bit her shoulder. Losing patience, he roughly turned her around, pushed her back against the wall and sucked as much of one breast as he could into his wet mouth. His other hand pinching and rolling the other dusky rose peak.

Mikasa moaned, as her hands frantically touched every part of him she could reach. She ran them over his head, his neck, his shoulders, his arms. Her touches left electricity over his skin.

Levi straighten up so quickly that Mikasa stumbled forward at the loss of his body. He stripped his shirt off and undid his belt not even bothering to remove it completely, as he looked down to meet Mikasa's eyes, he stopped what he was doing. He needed her to be naked right now. The need in her glazed eyes and the "take me" look she was throwing at him fueled his speed as he almost tore her dress, pulling the rest of it down from her waist. Now that she was naked he could look his fill as he removed his own pants and boxer. Levi growled and picked her up again only to deposit her, on her feet, next to the couch.

Levi pressed on her back, bending her over the back of it. The thought of trying this position had occurred to him before but he never got to try it until now, it was the perfect height. She was panting for him, she wanted this. Levi crouched down. Mikasa mewled as his hands grazed over the top of her lacy panties, tearing it in one motion. He ran the flat of his tongue over her clit as he sucked viciously.

Mikasa gasped, stunned. The sounds coming from her were wanton and delicious. Unable to wait any longer, Levi slid one of his fingers into her heat.

Her moans only ignited his fire more, inserting another finger, twisting them to rub on the rough patch just inside that had her writhing.

"Please," Mikasa was begging, "I need it."

At that Levi ran his thumb through her slick and started rubbing slow circles around her clit.

"Is this what you need?" he rumbled at her. His voice raw with his own desire. "Like this?"

"Yes-"

He pulled out just enough to insert a third finger, pumping her with his hand and letting his thumb flick back and forth over her clit.

Mikasa moaned loudly.

Levi wasted no time, he guided himself to her dripping vagina and plunged in with one quick thrust. He could feel the remnant pulsing of her orgasm around his swollen and throbbing shaft. He withdrew slowly and snapped his hips forward roughly.

Mikasa was writhing under him. She grabbed at the couch to center herself. "Please, put it in" So, he did.

Hips pumping, hands on her waist. Levi was strong, his body built as if steel, but Mikasa was no doll. He could give her everything he had and she could take it, loving every second. She would be sporting bruises on her hips from his hands tomorrow, but neither of them cared. All there was in this moment, was the slapping of skin against skin, the moans of pleasure from Mikasa and the grunts and pants of exertion from him. Then Levi changed his angle, hitting that spot deep inside her.

"Levi!" She shouted as she came.

Levi didn't last long after that, three more strokes and he growled out, "Mikasa!"

With that she gasped and went limp on the couch in the same position, but Levi pulled her back up turning her to face him. "I am far from done."

Surprised, she said "you are way too bossy today. Jealous about something, captain?" She teased.

Levi scoffed lightly, his voice tinged with jealousy, desire, and possessiveness, his thumb brushing against her cheek as he leaned in again, his voice dropping to a near growl. "Damn right I am."

In one fluid motion, he backed them against the wall. He lifted one of her legs and hooked it over his shoulder, his other hand grabbing her other thigh to lift her up with ease. Mikasa wrapped that leg around his waist. He positioned himself and pounded in her once. She let out a shaky breath, before he pulled it out. Confusion flickered through her expression, but he didn't give her time to question, pounding in once again. He didn't take his gaze off of her as he repeated the motion. He was teasing her.

Mikasa gave him a pleading look as she tried to lower herself to sheath his member, whispering a 'please.' He finally complied. No slow entry for him, he pounded into her with such fierce intensity she thought she would come on the spot. The sound of skin slapping skin was intense and unmistakable for anything else. He gave her soft kisses as they both came at the same time.

She quickly encased back into Levi's arms, slouching and panting heavily as he lowered her. Slowly he moved then toward the bed. He had his hands all over her body like he was starved for the feel of her. His hands were hot and hungry, pleading and insistent. When the back of Mikasa's legs hit the edge of the bed, he pushed her back on to it.

She gasped as it did not take long for his erection to return. "How are you still—" she began, her voice barely above a whisper, her words tinged with both surprise and heat.

He cut her off, his voice low and rough. "This is your fault," he growled, his tone sending shivers down her spine. "Wearing that damn dress."

Mikasa blinked, momentarily stunned, as his hands tightened on her hips. "Levi—"

She wasn't on the bed alone for long, Levi was immediately there, on top of her. It was a pleasurable weight. He spread her legs apart with his knees and settled there. Their lower parts rubbing against each other frantically. Their kisses became more and more desperate and needy. Their hands were all over each other's bodies. Levi reluctantly disengaged his mouth from Mikasa's and trailed his tongue down her throat.

"How dare they look at you like that?" he continued, his frustration from the night pouring into every word. "As if they had any right."

He nibbled at her collar bone drawing moans of pleasure from her. Teeth, tongue and mouth found their way to her nipples and bit, licked and sucked.

Her cheeks flushed at his possessive tone. "I didn't notice anyone, exc— Oh— except you!" She managed to whisper.

"Good," he murmured.

Mikasa had to grab the sheets, needing to ensure that she was still lying on the bed and not floating away in euphoria. Levi's tongue left slick trails behind as he went lower and lower below her stomach. Soon his amazing mouth was breathing hot breath over Mikasa's trembling vagina.

She almost came when Levi's hot and wet tongue infiltrated her once again. It was so good, Mikasa arched her back, pushing his tongue deeper. But before she could release, he pulled away, smirking knowingly.

Mikasa wasn't having it, she put her hands on his shoulders, shifting her weight to push him down under her, changing their positions.

"My turn." She pinned his arms on either side. Levi raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. He could easily overpower her, but he wanted to see how this played out.

She positioned herself on top of his lower abdomen. Slowly, she tried to lower herself into his member, her arms still pinning Levi's as she struggled. Her movements, up and down, were shallow, not even sheathing his member halfway. Levi's intense gaze under her made her feel acutely conscious of her body as if he was studying her. His eyes burned with desire, as he fought to not lose control. Her arms came up to cover he breasts, he immediately pulled her hands away.

"Don't hide."

As if on instant, he grabbed her hips, and pulled her down roughly, letting her body sheath him entirely in one full thrust. Mikasa almost choked, tilting her head back, arching her back against him as he sat up. Having been pinned earlier, Levi was now aggressive, vicious, and intense. She loved it. He watched her writhe with pleasure as Levi's movements moved her body up and down with ease. With a few more thrusts, both came undone.

They finally collapsed onto the bed, their breaths mingling in the quiet aftermath. Levi rested his head against Mikasa's chest, his eyes closed, his body relaxed. Mikasa's arms instinctively wrapped around him, her fingers threading gently through his hair as if anchoring him to her.

Levi shifted slightly, his head lifting up with a lazy smirk, his voice low and teasing. "You know," he drawled, "if you ever wear a dress like that again, I might not stop at just an hour."

Mikasa's cheeks flushed as she scoffed. "Maybe I should burn it, then."

Levi's smirk widened as he plopped his head back down on her chest. "Doesn't matter. It's not the dress I lose control over—it's you."

****************************

Okay, yeah I am embarrassed, leave me alone. ;-;

Chapter Text

Levi opened his eyes to the sight of Mikasa, her bare figure curled up against his chest, her dark hair falling loose over his arm.

Levi let out a quiet sigh, his gaze trailing to the crumpled navy blue dress on the floor where he'd impatiently tossed it aside. The memory of last night stirred something primal in him, but the weight of unresolved tension from the ball lingered like a dull ache. He brushed a stray strand of hair from Mikasa's face, his expression softening as he allowed himself this fleeting moment of peace.

Carefully untangling himself from her, Levi slipped out of bed, pulling on his shirt and trousers. Mikasa stirred slightly but didn't wake, her steady breathing filling the quiet room. Levi glanced back at her, before heading out to Erwin's office.

Levi's boots echoed softly in the quiet halls as he approached Erwin's office. He pushed the door open without knocking, stepping inside to find Erwin already at his desk. The commander looked up, his eyes flickering with recognition.

"Levi," Erwin greeted, gesturing for him to enter. "I didn't expect you this early."

"I figured you'd want to talk," Levi said, his voice flat as he leaned against the wall, arms crossed.

Erwin nodded, his expression grim. "I received intelligence last night, unrelated to the ball. There's a rebellion stirring in the Underground."

Levi's eyes narrowed. "A rebellion?"

"A man named Drystan is rallying the disenfranchised against the monarchy—and us. He's using their resentment to stoke unrest. They blame the Survey Corps for abandoning them."

Levi's jaw tightened. "They've been abandoned by everyone. What's Drystan's angle?"

Erwin's tone was steady but laced with concern. "He's promising change. A revolution. He's rallying the Underground with promises of equality, resources, and revenge. The problem is, we have credible reports that Kenny Ackerman is involved."

Levi's expression changed at the name. "Kenny."

Erwin nodded grimly. "If Kenny is advising Drystan, this rebellion won't stay contained. Kenny is dangerous, and he knows the Underground better than anyone. He could use this as a foothold to destabilize the monarchy—or worse."

Levi's voice was cold. "I heard whispers about this in town. People talking about someone stirring the pot, getting the downtrodden riled up. If it's true, this isn't just a street-level uprising. It's calculated."

Erwin studied Levi carefully before speaking again. "I want you to investigate this. Quietly. I haven't informed HQ yet. We can't risk word of this spreading until we know more."

Levi straightened, his tone firm. "I'll go alone. If Kenny's involved, this needs to be handled properly. No squads. No recruits."

Erwin's brow furrowed slightly. "Are you sure? This won't be a simple reconnaissance mission."

"It never is," Levi said dryly. "But this is my territory. I know the Underground better than anyone. If Kenny's involved, I'll find him."

Erwin exhaled, nodding reluctantly. "Very well. Gather what you need and head out tonight. Report back directly to me as soon as you have anything concrete."

Levi pushed off the wall. "Understood."

As he turned to leave, Erwin's voice stopped him. "Levi."

Levi glanced back, his eyes meeting Erwin's.

"Be careful," Erwin said simply, his words carrying the weight of trust and caution.

Levi nodded once before slipping out of the office, the door closing softly behind him. The shadows of the Underground were calling, and Levi knew there was no room for hesitation.

Meanwhile at the training grounds, the recruits begrudgingly lined up for drills. Mikasa stood among them, her expression calm but her thoughts clouded. Levi wasn't there—something that was uncommon and unsettling. He hadn't been in bed when she woke up, and for reasons she couldn't explain, it irritated her more than it should have.

She shook her head slightly, chastising herself. What's wrong with me? It's not like he has to tell me everything. Ugh, get it together, Mikasa.

Eren, standing next to her, noticed the subtle crease in her brow. "You okay?"

"I'm fine," Mikasa replied, sharper than she intended. Eren blinked but said nothing.

"It's weird, though, right?" Sasha chimed in, stretching lazily. "No Captain Gloom-and-Doom? Feels wrong. Like... who's going to make us suffer?"

"Maybe he's off lecturing his cravat," Jean quipped, earning a round of chuckles.

"Or cleaning his gear obsessively," Connie added. "You know, priorities."

"Honestly, I'd rather deal with him than Oluo trying to act like him," Ymir muttered, jerking her thumb toward the front where Oluo was barking orders in an exaggerated mimicry of Levi's usual tone.

Oluo said loudly, attempting (and failing) to mimic Levi's clipped tone. "You're all disgraceful. Laps. Now."

Eld groaned. "Oluo, stop. Nobody's buying your Captain Levi impression."

Farlan smirked. "If he were here, you'd already be on lap twenty for that impression."

Oluo puffed up his chest. "I'm just keeping the intimidation factor alive."

"'disgrace to humanity,'" someone mocked Levi's tone, earning a snort from the recruits.

"You're all hopeless!" Oluo shouted. "If you don't focus, you'll—"

"Embarrass yourselves like Jean at the ball?" Isabel interjected with a wicked grin.

Jean turned crimson. "Are you seriously still on about that?"

"Absolutely," Isabel said cheerfully. "What was it again? 'Mikasa, would you like a drink? Wait—oh no, I spilled punch on my shirt!'" She mimicked a panicked flailing motion, complete with exaggerated gasps.

"That didn't happen!" Jean snapped, his face burning.

"Oh, it happened," Connie said, barely containing his laughter. "We all saw it."

"Classic Jean," Sasha added, grinning. "Tragic romance in every move, Romeo."

"Romance?" Ymir snorted. "More like accidental comedy. Pretty sure Mikasa didn't even notice."

"Because she was too busy looking like a queen," Krista said with a small smile.

Jean threw his hands in the air dramatically. "You all suck."

"You know what sucks?" Sasha said, feigning sympathy. "Being eternally stuck in Mikasa's 'just a friend' zone."

Jean clenched his fists. "You all think you're so funny. Mikasa should've gone with me, not Captain Tight-Ass. Who even pairs up with their superior? It's weird!"

"You know, Mikasa, Jean's really heartbroken about this whole thing. Maybe you should give him a pity dance next time."

"Enough," Mikasa cut in, her voice sharp. The banter died instantly as the recruits exchanged nervous glances. Her irritation wasn't unusual, but it carried an edge this morning that made even Isabel think twice.

Eren glanced at her curiously. "You sure you're okay?"

"I said I'm fine," Mikasa replied, her tone icy as she turned her attention to the drills. But her mind wasn't on the exercises—it was on the uneasy tension left behind after last night's masked intruders.

"Alright, everyone, line up!" Petra called out, stepping forward with the authority of someone used to managing chaos. "Captain's not here, but that doesn't mean you get to slack off."

"Exactly," Farlan added, his smirk mischievous. "We'll be gentle. Maybe."

The recruits groaned collectively, but they complied, falling into line. As the drills began, their earlier banter resumed in quieter tones, though a heavier topic soon crept in.

"Do you think those masked guys last night were targeting someone?" Armin asked quietly.

"Probably that titan bait," Jean muttered. "Because of the Titan thing. It's always about him."

"Gee, thanks," Eren said dryly. "Real subtle."

"Actually..." Armin hesitated. "It could be someone else. The MPs were acting strange. Did you hear them whispering? They were blaming us for what happened."

"They always blame us," Ymir said with a scoff. "We breathe wrong, and they lose their shit."

"This was different," Armin insisted. "I overheard one of them saying this kind of incident has never happened at one of their balls before."

"Of course it hasn't," Connie said, rolling his eyes. "They don't invite us to their balls."

"They think we bring trouble," Krista said softly. "Maybe they're not wrong."

Mikasa hadn't forgotten the accusing glances from the MPs or the way Levi's instincts had kicked in when Draven approached her. Something about the entire night felt off—like a shadow creeping closer but refusing to reveal itself.

"You all can speculate later," Petra called out. "For now, drills. Let's go!"

The recruits groaned again but obeyed, falling into rhythm. Mikasa, however, couldn't shake the uneasy feeling lingering in her chest. Where are you, Levi?

The sun had climbed higher in the sky, and the recruits moved from drills to sparring. Paired off, the recruits began their matches under the sharp supervision of Levi's squad.

Mikasa's movements were sharper than usual, her strikes quick and unrelenting. She swung her blade with precision, forcing her opponent—Connie, unlucky as always—into a defensive shuffle.

"Whoa, Mikasa! It's just sparring!" Connie yelped, stumbling backward as her wooden blade struck the spot he'd occupied a moment before.

"Stop dodging and focus," Mikasa snapped, her voice unusually curt as she advanced.

"I am! On not dying!" Connie replied, ducking another swing.

Sasha, spectating nearby while waiting for her turn, let out a low whistle. "What's with her today? She's going harder than Captain."

"Probably because Captain's not here," Jean muttered, crossing his arms as he watched Mikasa deliver another precise strike that nearly knocked Connie off his feet. "Guess she doesn't know how to relax without Captain Cravat breathing down her neck."

"Or maybe she's just pissed," Sasha added. "Jean, you think she's mad you didn't ask her to dance again?"

"Shut up, Sasha," Jean said, his cheeks reddening.

"Maybe she's mad at the masked guys," Armin suggested thoughtfully, watching Mikasa's movements with concern. "It's not like her to lose control, but after last night..."

"Or," Ymir chimed in, "maybe she's just mad at Connie for existing."

"Hey!" Connie protested, blocking a strike with all his strength. "I didn't do anything!"

"Exactly," Ymir said dryly. "That's your problem."

Krista giggled. "Come on, guys. Let's not tease her too much. She's clearly going through something."

"Yeah, our bad luck," Connie muttered.

"Switch partners!" Petra called out, clapping her hands to signal the end of the round.

Connie staggered away from Mikasa, panting and clutching his ribs. "Whose ribs next? Please, not me again."

Jean stepped forward with a determined look. "I'll take her."

Sasha snorted. "Brave of you. Or dumb."

"Shut it, Sasha."

Jean squared up against Mikasa, who had barely broken a sweat despite her intense bout with Connie. Her stance radiated a tension that hadn't been there before.

As Petra signaled the start of their match, Jean immediately regretted volunteering. Mikasa came at him like a whirlwind, her strikes calculated and fierce.

"Okay, okay! I get it! You're mad at something, but take it easy!" Jean yelled.

"Stop talking and fight," her blade connecting with his in a sharp crack.

Jean stumbled, "You're insane today!"

From the sidelines, Connie winced. "Poor guy. He's gonna be sore for weeks."

"Good," Ymir said with a grin. "It's what he gets for opening his mouth."

Jean finally managed to step back, gasping for breath. "Alright, I give up! What the hell is your problem today, Mikasa?"

Mikasa stopped mid-swing, her chest rising and falling as she glared at him. But the sharpness in her expression wavered for a moment, replaced by confusion.

"I don't know," she admitted quietly, lowering her blade.

The recruits exchanged surprised glances, but before anyone could comment, Petra's voice rang out.

"Enough chatter! Back to sparring. Mikasa, take five."

Mikasa hesitated, then nodded, stepping aside as the drills continued. She leaned against the fence, her fingers gripping the wooden blade tightly.

Armin approached her, his concern evident. "Mikasa, are you okay?"

She glanced at him, her expression softening slightly. "I'm fine. Just... tired."

Armin didn't look convinced, but he nodded. "If you need to talk—"

"I'm fine," she said firmly, cutting him off.

As Armin walked back to the group, Mikasa exhaled slowly, her frustration simmering beneath the surface. What's wrong with me?

****************************

In his office, Levi meticulously packed his gear. An old, worn map of the Underground lay unfurled on the table, edges curling with age. He traced his finger over its surface, mentally plotting the path he'd take. His blades were already tucked away in their sheaths, some daggers, and a pouch filled with rations sat neatly by his side.

He opened the closet to grab a spare jacket, but his hand hesitated when his eyes landed on the navy blue dress tucked away in the corner. It was hers, carefully hung there since the ball. For a moment, the memory of last night flooded his mind—the way she'd looked in it, the way she'd felt in his arms.

A flicker of longing coursed through him. Focus, he scolded himself, but the image of her lingered, stubborn and distracting. He shook his head and reached for the jacket, forcing himself to think about the mission.

The sound of the door creaking open pulled him from his thoughts. He turned to see Mikasa standing in the doorway.

"What are you doing?" she asked, her gaze darting to the packed essentials on his desk.

"Getting ready," Levi replied, his tone even.

Her eyes narrowed. "For what?"

He glanced at her, noticing the tension in her posture, the way her arms crossed tightly over her chest. A teasing smirk tugged at his lips. "What's wrong, Mikasa? You upset I wasn't there to hold your hand during breakfast?"

She didn't react, her frown deepening. "Levi, I'm serious."

The smirk faded as Levi sighed, shutting the closet door and turning to face her fully. He leaned back against the desk, arms crossed, his tone sobering. "I'm heading to the Underground. There's something I need to take care of."

"What? Why? And why are you only telling me now?"

"There's a rebellion brewing," Levi said evenly. "It's been building for a while. Erwin got word about it last night, and I've heard similar whispers in town. There's someone rallying the people down there, stirring them up against the monarchy—and the Survey Corps. No one else knows."

"And you're going alone?" she asked, stepping closer, her voice edged with disbelief.

"Yeah."

"That's reckless," Mikasa snapped. "You don't even know what you're walking into."

Levi's tone turning steely. "That's exactly why I need to go. The fewer people involved, the less likely this turns into a disaster."

"I'll come too."

"Absolutely not," Levi replied. "You're not coming. End of discussion."

Her frustration bubbling to the surface. "Why not? I'm capable—"

"I know you are," he cut her off, his tone growing colder. "That's not the point."

"Then what is the point?" she challenged, stepping closer, her voice rising slightly. "You're walking into the Underground alone to face a rebellion, and I'm supposed to just stay here and wait?"

"Yes," he said, his eyes locking onto hers with an unyielding intensity. "That's exactly what you're supposed to do. I need someone I trust here, keeping things in order. That's you, Mikasa."

Her lips pressed into a tight line, her anger simmering just below the surface. The long day, the tension, and her own unexplainable emotions weighed on her, making it impossible to keep calm. "Levi, that's ridiculous. You know I can handle it. I'm not staying behind while you—"

"Mikasa!" Levi snapped, cutting through her words. She froze mid-sentence, taken aback by the sudden shift in his tone.

He stepped closer. "Enough. This isn't up for debate. You're staying here. That's an order."

Her jaw tightened as the full weight of his captain's tone settled over her. "You're treating me like one of your recruits," she hissed. "I'm not just some soldier you can boss around, Levi."

"No, you're not," he replied, his voice cold and clipped. "But right now, I need you to follow orders. If I take you with me and something happens—" He stopped himself, the words catching in his throat. His gaze softened for just a moment, but it was fleeting. "I need you here. Do you understand?"

Mikasa's frustration boiled over, her voice rising as she took another step forward. "What I understand is that you're walking into a dangerous situation alone, and you won't even let me help! How am I supposed to just sit here and wait, not knowing if you'll come back?"

"You're supposed to trust me," Levi shot back. "Do you?"

She faltered for a moment, the vulnerability in his question cutting through her anger. But the frustration and uncertainty of the day were too much. "Fine," she said curtly, turning her head slightly. "Go alone, then."

Her words were laced with defiance, but there was an undercurrent of something deeper—fear, worry, something she couldn't bring herself to voice. Levi exhaled sharply, the tension between them thick enough to feel suffocating.

"Mikasa," he said again, softer this time, but she had already turned slightly away stubbornly.

He sighed, his voice dropping to a quiet murmur as he reached out and placed a hand on her cheek. "Look at me."

Reluctantly, she met his gaze, her anger still simmering but tempered by the concern in his eyes. For a moment, neither of them spoke, the weight of the argument settling heavily around them. Then Levi leaned in, his lips brushing against hers in a kiss that was both grounding and apologetic, a wordless way of saying what he couldn't bring himself to admit out loud.

Pulling back just enough to look her in the eyes, he said quietly, "I'll be back before you know it."

Mikasa didn't respond immediately, her lips pressed into a thin line, but she finally gave a small nod.

Levi lingered for a moment longer, his thumb grazing her cheek before he stepped back, the distance between them feeling heavier than usual.

"Get some rest," he said quietly, turning back to the desk to finish packing.

Mikasa stood there for a moment, watching him. Without another word, she turned and left the room, the weight of their exchange settling heavily in the quiet space behind her.

He let out a long breath, the argument replaying in his mind. He had to focus on the mission, but leaving her like this was harder than he cared to admit. I'll miss you.

****************************

The streets of the town were eerily quiet. Levi's boots clicked softly against the cobblestones as he made his way toward the hidden entrance. The only light came from the dim glow of lanterns hanging on wrought-iron posts, casting long shadows across the empty roads. His small travel bag slung over his shoulder and his hand resting instinctively near the knife at his belt.

He reached a nondescript alley tucked between two abandoned shops. At its end, concealed behind a stack of weathered crates, was a heavy wooden door. Levi glanced over his shoulder to ensure he wasn't being followed, then tapped out a familiar rhythm on the door—two short knocks, one long.

It creaked open slowly, revealing a wiry man with shaggy dark hair and a crooked grin. His clothes were mismatched, as though he'd scavenged them from different places, but his eyes were sharp and full of mischief.

"Well, well, if it isn't the legend himself," the man said, leaning lazily against the doorframe. "Still gracing us with your glorious presence, Captain Levi?"

Levi's brow twitched. "Open the door, Jace."

Jace snorted, stepping aside to let Levi in. "No 'hello,' no 'how've you been, Jace?' Typical."

Levi didn't dignify that with a response as he slipped through the narrow entrance, the door shutting firmly behind him. The passage beyond was damp and dimly lit by flickering torches mounted on the stone walls. The faint sound of dripping water echoed through the space.

Jace fell into step beside Levi, his grin widening as he eyed the captain's stoic expression. "So, what's the big plan this time? You finally coming back to claim your throne as King of the Underground?"

"Keep talking, and you'll lose your teeth," Levi muttered.

"Still a charmer, I see," Jace said, unfazed. "You know, I don't miss much about the old days, but you threatening my life every time we meet? Warms my heart."

Levi gave him a sidelong glance. "You're here because you're useful, not because I like you."

"Aw, don't make me blush," Jace replied, patting his chest mockingly. "And here I thought we were friends."

They reached an iron gate barring the way deeper into the tunnels. Jace pulled a set of jangling keys from his pocket, his movements unhurried as he unlocked the gate.

"So," Jace said casually as the lock clicked open, "does Farlan know you're sneaking around down here? Or Isabel? Pretty sure they'd have some choice words for you running off solo."

Levi stepped through the gate, ignoring the question entirely. "What do you know about Drystan?"

Jace's playful demeanor shifted slightly, his grin fading as he shut the gate behind them. "More than I'd like to, honestly. The guy's got a lot of people eating out of his hand. Promises them freedom, whatever it takes to rally them against the Corps and the monarchy."

Levi nodded. "Keep your ears open."

"Sure, sure," Jace said with a shrug, his grin returning faintly. "But you owe me. Next time, I want dinner or something. A real meal, not whatever scraps you throw my way."

"Be glad I don't throw you to the Titans," Levi shot back, brushing past him.

Jace chuckled, his voice echoing. "Ah, Levi. Always the sentimental type. Don't change too much down here, alright? The Underground doesn't need a softie."

The passage twisted and turned as Jace led Levi deeper into the Underground. The faint glow of torches barely illuminated the worn stone walls.

They finally stopped in front of a rusted metal door at the end of a narrow corridor. Jace shoved it open, revealing a small, worn living space. The room was sparsely furnished with a sagging couch, a makeshift table, and a chair. A tiny kitchen area stood in the corner, the counter cluttered with empty bottles and a single dented pot. A narrow doorway led to what could only be a bedroom, with a flimsy curtain acting as a door.

"Home sweet home," Jace said, gesturing dramatically as he stepped inside. "Still the Underground's finest accommodations."

Levi glanced around. "Still a dump."

"Hey, it's a charming dump," Jace replied, closing the door behind them. He motioned to the couch. "Sit, relax, soak in the ambiance."

Levi ignored him, remaining by the door with his arms crossed. "Talk."

Jace sighed, dropping onto the couch with a casual sprawl. "Drystan ... he's not just some random thug stirring the pot. The guy's got charisma. Real charisma. People down here? They love him. He gives speeches about freedom, justice, taking back what's ours. Plays the 'voice of the forgotten' card like a pro."

Levi's expression didn't shift, but his eyes narrowed slightly. "And Kenny?"

Jace's grin faded as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "He's in Drystan's camp. Acting all chummy, whispering in his ear, twisting the truth. Drystan's not stupid, but Kenny's feeding him just enough half-truths to keep him riled up against the monarchy and the Corps."

"Figures," Levi muttered.

"It gets worse," Jace continued. "Drystan's people aren't just shouting slogans. They're arming up. Weapons, supplies, you name it. Someone's funding this, but I don't know who. The money's coming from somewhere, though. This isn't a grassroots rebellion. It's too organized."

Levi's mind worked quickly, piecing together what Jace was saying with what he already knew.

"You're sure Kenny's involved?"

"Seen him with my own eyes," Jace replied. "He's in the thick of it. Drystan's right-hand man, or at least that's how it looks. He's playing advisor, but you and I both know Kenny's never just a sidekick. He's up to something."

Levi's expression darkened, his lips pressing into a thin line. "What's his angle?"

"No clue," Jace admitted with a shrug. "But whatever it is, it's bad news. Kenny doesn't do anything unless it benefits him. Drystan's eating out of his hand, though. Kenny's feeding him just enough to keep the fire burning, but not enough to burn himself."

"And the weapons?" Levi pressed.

Jace leaned back on the couch, his brow furrowing. "That's the part that doesn't add up. They've got stockpiles, good stuff too—not the usual Underground scraps. Someone's supplying them, and it's not coming cheap."

Levi's gaze flicked to the worn floorboards as he processed the information. "So someone with deep pockets is backing them."

"Exactly," Jace said, gesturing with his hands. "Whoever it is, they've got an agenda. Drystan's just a tool, a puppet with a voice that people listen to."

"Keep digging," Levi said.

He turned toward the door, his hand already on the worn handle, when Jace's voice stopped him.

"Hold up," Jace said, rising up. "You can't just walk out there and expect to find Drystan, let alone get close to him."

Levi shot him a look over his shoulder. "I've gotten into harder places than this."

Jace snorted, folding his arms. "Sure, Captain Confidence. But you're not in your Survey Corps stomping grounds anymore. Down here, you're as good as a target the moment someone recognizes that jacket."

"I'm not wearing the jacket," Levi retorted dryly.

"You know what I mean," Jace replied, stepping closer. "Drystan doesn't meet people on a whim. It's all by invitation—if you're lucky. And even if you do find him, he's got layers of protection. His group isn't just a bunch of ragtag rebels."

Levi raised an eyebrow. "Go on."

"The Black Talons," Jace said grimly. "They're his muscle. No one knows much about them, but they're good. Real good. Assassins, saboteurs, the kind of people who can make a problem disappear before you even know they're there. They've been hitting targets topside—Survey Corps, MPs, supply lines. If they see you coming, they won't hesitate to cut you down."

"And you're mentioning this just now?"

Jace shrugged, his usual smirk returning. "You didn't ask."

Levi resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "How do I get to Drystan?"

Jace tapped his chin thoughtfully. "There's a supply cart leaving in two days—mercenaries taking goods to one of Drystan's hideouts. If you can sneak in with them, you might get close enough to gather intel without getting yourself killed."

"Two days?" Levi repeated, his tone skeptical.

"Two days," Jace confirmed. "Trust me, it's your best shot. You can't just wander in and expect a warm welcome. Drystan's paranoid, and Kenny's probably got eyes everywhere."

Levi stared at him for a long moment before finally stepping back from the door. "Fine. But I'm not sitting around doing nothing."

Jace grinned. "Didn't think you would. Make yourself at home. I've got a spare cot you can crash on."

Levi glanced around the small, worn room, his gaze lingering on the mismatched furniture and peeling walls. "Cozy," he muttered.

Jace laughed. "Underground chic. What can I say?"

The two moved to the tiny kitchen, where Jace rummaged through a cabinet, pulling out a tin of tea leaves. "Tea?"

Levi nodded silently, leaning against the counter as Jace set about boiling water. The quiet hiss of the kettle filled the room, a rare moment of stillness in the chaos of the Underground.

"So," Jace began, breaking the silence. "How's Farlan? And Isabel? Haven't seen those two in ages."

"They're fine," Levi replied curtly, though his tone softened just slightly. "Still reckless, especially Isabel."

Jace snorted. "I'd expect nothing less from her. Still clinging to you like you're her personal hero?"

"Worse," Levi said dryly, a faint twitch of his lips betraying his amusement. "She's graduated to calling me 'big bro' in front of everyone."

Jace nearly doubled over laughing. "No way! She's really doing that?"

Levi's lips thinned. "Unfortunately."

Jace grinned. "Man, I'd pay to see your face every time she does it."

"Don't push it."

The kettle whistled, and Jace poured the water into two mugs, setting them down on the counter. He handed one to Levi before settling in next to him.

"So," Jace began again, blowing on his tea. "You ever talk her out of any of her crazy ideas, or is she still dragging Farlan into all kinds of messes?"

Levi took a sip of the bitter tea, the warmth spreading through him as he considered his response. "She's gotten a little better. But not much. Last month, she decided it'd be a good idea to 'improve' her ODM gear. She said it would make her faster."

"And?" Jace asked, raising an eyebrow.

"And she ended up crashing into a tree," Levi replied, his voice flat. "Nearly took Farlan down with her because she'd convinced him to test it first."

Jace burst out laughing. "Classic Isabel. Farlan must've been thrilled."

"He wasn't," Levi said, his tone dry. "But he's too soft to tell her no."

"That's why they work," Jace said with a grin. "She's got all the ideas, and he's the poor bastard who has to make sure she survives them."

Levi huffed softly, the faintest hint of amusement crossing his face.

Jace studied him for a moment, his grin turning sly. "Speaking of survival... you finally find yourself a wife yet?"

Levi froze mid-sip, his eyes narrowing slightly as he lowered the mug. "What kind of question is that?"

"A valid one," Jace said, undeterred. "You're not getting any younger, you know."

Levi's lips twitched, though whether in irritation or amusement, it was hard to tell. "Not exactly."

Jace blinked, caught off guard. "Wait, what?"

"What?" Levi shot back, his tone flat but with a slight edge of defensiveness.

Jace's grin widened, leaning closer like he'd just discovered a secret. "If there was no one, you'd have just told me to shut up or said no. But 'not exactly'? That means there's someone."

Levi didn't respond immediately, his eyes flicking back to the window as he sipped his tea. "Don't read into it."

"Oh, I'm reading into it," Jace said, laughing. "Come on, Levi. Who is she? What brave soul managed to crack that rock-hard exterior of yours?"

"Drop it."

Jace held up his hands in mock surrender, though his grin didn't fade. "Fine, fine. But I'm excited to meet her. If she's put up with you this long, she's got to be something special."

Levi shook his head, muttering something under his breath as he finished his tea. But for a moment, his thoughts wandered, unbidden, to Mikasa—her steady presence. He quickly pushed the thought away.

"You talk too much," Levi finally said, setting his mug down and turning towards the couch.

"Someone's got to," Jace shot back with a chuckle, following him. "You're like a walking silence machine."

Levi ignored the jab, eyeing the couch with mild disdain but making no move toward the bedroom.

"You know, I've got an actual bed in here. You can sleep in it."

"I'm fine," Levi said curtly, already lowering himself onto the couch and propping his feet up on the armrest. The cushions sagged under his weight, and the fabric was rough, but it was serviceable.

Jace rolled his eyes. "Stubborn as ever. You sure that stick in your back isn't permanent?"

Levi didn't respond, his eyes already drifting shut as he rested his head against the threadbare cushion.

Jace let out a dramatic sigh. "Alright, suit yourself. Just don't blame me if you wake up with a crick in your neck."

"Go to bed, Jace."

****************************

The next day, Levi moved through the maze of shadowy alleys, his face obscured by the hood of his cloak.

The air in the Underground was damp and suffocating. He was scouting, scanning the grime-covered walls.

Graffiti was scrawled in bold, angry strokes across nearly every surface:

"Freedom from tyranny!"
"Down with the monarchy!"
"No more walls, no more lies!"

Here and there, he caught fragments of conversation as he passed groups huddled in corners, their voices low but charged with fervor.

"They say Drystan's rallying the Lower Slums tomorrow. Promising to change everything."

"He's got the weapons and the guts to do it. About time someone stood up for us."

Drystan had turned desperation into fuel for rebellion, and the fire was spreading.

He turned down a quieter street, his boots barely making a sound against the cobblestones, when a commotion caught his attention. Harsh voices echoed from around the corner, followed by the scuffling of feet.

"Give it back, you little brat!" a gruff voice snarled.

Levi's steps slowed as he reached the edge of the alley, peering around the corner. Two burly men loomed over a scrappy-looking boy, no older than ten, who stood defiantly in front of a younger girl clutching a ragged doll to her chest.

The boy's fists were clenched, his scrawny frame trembling with either fear or determination—or both. He held a broken pipe in his hand, brandishing it like a sword. "Leave her alone!" he shouted, his voice cracking but resolute.

One of the men sneered, taking a step closer. "Or what? You gonna stab us with that? Come on, kid, hand over what you stole."

"I didn't steal anything!" the boy snapped, his voice full of conviction. "You're lying!"

The girl whimpered, clutching the boy's sleeve. "Please, Liam, let's just go."

The larger man reached for the boy, his meaty hand grabbing the makeshift weapon and yanking it away with ease. The boy stumbled but didn't back down, his eyes blazing with anger as he stepped in front of the girl again.

Levi's gaze sharpened. That fire. That desperation. It was too familiar.

The larger man raised his hand, poised to strike, but before he could, a cold voice cut through the alley like a blade.

"That's enough."

The men froze, their heads snapping toward the sound. Levi stepped into the dim light, his hood still obscuring most of his face but revealing just enough of his steely expression to send a chill through the air.

"Who the hell are you?" the smaller man demanded, though his voice wavered slightly.

Levi didn't respond. Instead, he moved with practiced precision, closing the distance between them in a blur. In a single, fluid motion, he disarmed the man holding the pipe, twisting his arm until he cried out in pain and dropped to his knees.

The larger man lunged at Levi, but he sidestepped effortlessly, delivering a sharp kick to the back of his knee and sending him sprawling to the ground. Levi crouched beside him, his blade glinting faintly as he pressed it to the man's throat.

"Get out," Levi said, his voice low and deadly. "Now."

The men didn't need to be told twice. They scrambled to their feet and bolted, their curses echoing down the alley as they disappeared into the shadows.

Levi stood slowly, sheathing his blade as he turned his attention to the boy. The boy's defiance faltered, replaced by uncertainty as he looked up at the hooded stranger.

"You alright?" Levi asked, his tone gruff but softer than before.

The boy nodded hesitantly, pulling the girl closer. "Yeah... thanks."

Levi's eyes lingered on the boy for a moment, taking in the dirt-streaked face and the permanent scowl etched onto his features. It was a scowl Levi knew all too well—one born of desperation and a refusal to break. He reached into his cloak and pulled out a small pouch of rations, pressing it into the boy's hands.

The boy blinked, surprised by the gesture, but took the pouch, clutching it tightly. "Why are you...?"

Levi cut him off. "You look like you need it more than I do."

The boy stared at him for a moment longer before his expression hardened with a mix of gratitude and suspicion. "Who are you?"

Levi's lips twitched into the faintest smirk. "Someone."

The boy hesitated, his gaze flicking between Levi and the girl clinging to his arm. Then, as if summoning all his courage, he spoke again. "Teach me."

"What?"

"Teach me to fight," the boy said, his voice steady despite the slight tremor in his hands. "I need to protect them. I... I can't do it like this."

The girl tugged on his sleeve nervously. "Liam, don't..."

But Liam ignored her, his scowl deepening as he looked up at Levi, determination blazing in his eyes. "Please."

Levi exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair beneath the hood. This kid... He reminded Levi too much of himself. Still, training someone here, now, was a complication he didn't need. He was about to refuse when he caught the look in the boy's eyes—unrelenting, desperate.

"Fine," Levi said finally. "But only for today."

Liam's face lit up with a flicker of hope, though he quickly masked it with a curt nod. "Thank you."

Liam turned to the girl, gripping her hand. "I need to take her back to the hideout first," he said, "She's not safe out here."

Levi nodded. "Lead the way."

Liam glanced at him, surprised at the lack of argument, but said nothing and began walking. Levi followed, his silent presence towering over the two as they made their way through the narrow, grimy streets of the Underground. The girl, still clutching Liam's arm, cast occasional glances at Levi, her wide eyes filled with equal parts curiosity and wariness.

The trio reached a small, decrepit building tucked between two larger ones, its entrance hidden. Liam knocked twice on a flimsy wooden door, which creaked open to reveal a younger boy, maybe six or seven, sitting cross-legged on the floor. His face lit up at the sight of his sister.

"Ben!" the girl cried, rushing inside to hug him.

His protective instincts still on high alert as he glanced back at Levi. "Wait here. I'll be quick."

Levi leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching as the girl fussed over her younger brother. Despite himself, a faint flicker of something—nostalgia?—stirred in his chest. The scene reminded him too much of his time with Farlan and Isabel, their makeshift family cobbled together in the Underground's shadows.

Liam returned moments later, stepping outside and closing the door behind him. "Let's go."

Levi straightened, leading the boy to a quieter, open space nearby. The alley was narrow but empty, offering just enough room for what Levi had planned.

"Show me what you've got," Levi said, pulling the pocket knife from his belt and handing it to Liam.

Liam took it, gripping it tightly as he faced Levi. His posture was tense, his movements clumsy as he lunged forward. Levi sidestepped with ease, his hand darting out to grab Liam's wrist and twist it just enough to disarm him without causing pain.

"Too obvious," Levi said, tossing the knife back. "Try again."

Liam scowled but complied, attacking with more caution this time. Again, Levi countered effortlessly, his motions precise and controlled.

"You hesitate," Levi said. "Hesitation gets you killed."

"I wasn't hesitating!" Liam argued, picking up the knife. "You're just too fast."

"Excuses don't keep you alive."

They continued sparring, Levi correcting Liam's stance, grip, and movement with short, clipped instructions. Gradually, the boy began to improve, his strikes becoming sharper and more deliberate. Still, Levi disarmed him every time.

Between rounds, they sat on the cracked pavement, catching their breath. Liam wiped sweat from his brow, his scowl softening as he glanced at Levi. "You're good at this. Did someone teach you?"

A shadow of a memory crossing Levi's face. "Someone did."

Liam waited for more, but when Levi didn't elaborate, he hesitated before speaking again. "Was it... here? In the Underground?"

"Yeah."

Liam frowned, his curiosity getting the better of him. "What was it like? Back then?"

Levi's lips pressed into a thin line, his tone cool. "Like this. Only worse."

The boy absorbed the words, the weight of them sinking in. "How'd you get out?"

Levi glanced at him, his expression softening ever so slightly. "Did what I had to. Trusted the right people. Learned to fight better than the rest."

"So... what brought you back?"

"Work," Levi said simply, his tone giving no room for elaboration.

Liam didn't push further, but after a beat of silence, he muttered, "You're not as scary as you seem."

Levi raised an eyebrow. "You want to test that?"

Liam's lips twitched into a small smirk. "No, thanks."

Levi let out a quiet huff of amusement.

Liam's admiration for Levi growing. "I want to do that too. Get out of here."

"You think you can?" Levi asked. "It's not just about fighting. It's about surviving. That takes more than a knife."

"I'll learn," Liam said, his jaw set. "I'll figure it out."

Levi watched him for a moment, the boy's determination striking a chord. "We'll see."

As the hours passed, Levi drilled the boy on everything from basic stances to how to anticipate an opponent's movements. Liam picked up quickly, his scowl deepening with concentration. Levi found himself offering more advice than he'd originally planned.

At the end of the session, Levi stood and handed the boy his pocket knife. "Keep it."

Liam's eyes widened. "Really?"

Levi nodded. "You've earned it. Don't lose it. And don't get cocky. A knife's only as good as the hand holding it."

The boy nodded solemnly, tucking the knife into his belt. "Thank you."

Levi didn't respond right away. "Before I leave, there's something you can do for me."

Liam blinked. "Me?"

"You said you want to protect people, right?"

The boy's expression hardened with determination. "Yeah."

"Good," Levi said, his voice calm but firm. "Then you'll help me. I need to get closer to someone in the Underground—a leader. But I can't just walk in. You know the streets better than I do now. You can guide me."

"Are you talking about Drystan?"

Levi nodded.

Liam hesitated, glancing back at the direction of his hideout. "I don't know... Drystan's people are everywhere. If they find out—"

"They won't," Levi interrupted. "Because you won't get caught. I'll handle the dangerous part. You just give me the lay of the land."

The boy's lips pressed into a thin line, but after a moment, he nodded. "Alright. I can do that."

"Good," Levi said, standing straighter. "Then let's move."

They spent the next few hours navigating the labyrinthine alleys and hidden paths of the Underground, Liam pointing out landmarks and areas controlled by Drystan's people. He showed Levi graffiti-covered walls with slogans like Freedom for the Forgotten and End the Monarchy, the crude letters painted with a passion that resonated with the struggles of the disenfranchised.

"See that building?" Liam whispered, gesturing toward a rundown warehouse with boarded-up windows. "That's one of their meeting spots. They use it to store supplies."

"Who guards it?"

"Black Talons," Liam replied, his voice dropping lower. "They're no joke. People say they've killed MPs and anyone who gets in their way."

Levi absorbed the information. "What about Drystan? Where does he stay?"

Liam hesitated, looking around before speaking. "Nobody knows for sure. He moves around a lot, but there's talk of a big meeting in two days. That's when they're planning something big."

Levi nodded. "You've been paying attention. Good."

Liam puffed up slightly at the praise, but his expression quickly turned serious. "You're really going after them, aren't you?"

"It's my job," Levi said simply.

The boy's gaze lingered on him, a mix of respect and unease. "You're different," Liam said after a moment. "Most people from above wouldn't care about what happens down here."

"I'm not most people."

They continued their scouting until the dim light filtering into the Underground began to fade. As they returned to Liam's hideout, the boy gestured toward the small, cracked window of the building. Inside, the little girl and her brother were huddled together, sharing the last of the rations Levi had given them earlier.

"You've got people to protect," Levi said, his tone softer. "That's good. It'll keep you sharp."

Liam glanced at him, his scowl briefly replaced by something gentler. "Yeah. I'll do whatever it takes."

Levi pulled out a small, folded map from his cloak and handed it to the boy. "Mark the spots you mentioned earlier. I'll use this to get closer."

Liam took the map carefully, his fingers smudging the worn paper. "You trust me to do this?"

"I wouldn't ask if I didn't."

The boy grinned with pride. "Alright. I'll make sure it's perfect."

They spent the rest of the evening marking the map and discussing safe routes and potential risks. By the time Levi stood to leave, the boy looked more confident, the knife he'd been given tucked securely in his belt.

"Will I see you again?" Liam called after him.

Levi paused, glancing back over his shoulder. "Maybe. If you're smart enough to stay alive."

The next day, Levi moved with the same precision, his hood drawn low over his face, blending seamlessly. He was scouting, retracing steps Liam had shown him, ensuring he had the full layout of Drystan's network.

He was alone, as always, trusting no one in these hostile streets.

The sensation hit him like a whisper of wind—something was off. Levi's instincts, honed from years of survival and combat, screamed at him to stay alert. He turned a corner into a quieter alley, his hand brushing the hilt of the knife hidden beneath his cloak.

That's when he heard it—the faint shuffle of footsteps behind him. They weren't the casual steps of a passerby but calculated, deliberate. Someone was following him.

Without hesitation, Levi slipped into the shadows, his breath steady as he waited. The footsteps grew louder, closer, until they stopped right where he had been standing moments ago.

A man stood there, dressed in dark, nondescript clothing that blended with the Underground's gloom. His face was partially obscured by a mask, but the insignia etched onto his shoulder—a black talon—gave him away. He scanned the area, his eyes glinting with suspicion.

Levi's grip tightened on his blade. He knows who I am.

The Talon's voice broke the silence, low and dangerous. "Captain Levi, isn't it? Thought you'd sneak in here unnoticed?"

Levi didn't reply, stepping out of the shadows with his blade already drawn. "You've got one chance to walk away."

The Talon laughed, the sound cold and cruel. "Walk away? No, I think I'll take my chance to be the one who kills the great Captain Levi."

He lunged.

Levi sidestepped effortlessly, his blade flashing as he deflected the Talon's initial strike. The man was fast—dangerously so—but Levi was faster. Their movements were a blur, the clash of metal echoing in the alley. Levi's blade struck out, meeting the Talon's short sword with precise force.

The Talon pivoted, feinting high before sweeping low, aiming for Levi's legs. Levi leapt back, the blade grazing the hem of his cloak. He studied the man's technique. He wasn't just skilled—he was trained, disciplined, not the usual rabble found in the Underground.

The Talon smirked as if reading Levi's thoughts. "Not bad, huh? You're not the only one who knows how to fight."

"Talk less," Levi closed the distance between them.

Their blades collided again, sparks flying as they danced through the tight space. Levi gritted his teeth, using the momentum to twist and slide out of the way, slashing at the man's side. The blade found its mark, drawing blood, but the Talon barely flinched.

"You'll have to do better than that."

Levi feinted left, then spun low, sweeping the Talon's legs out from under him. The man hit the ground hard, but before Levi could press his advantage, the Talon rolled to his feet, his sword slicing through the air in a wide arc.

Levi ducked, his blade flashing upward. This time, the Talon wasn't quick enough. Levi's knife caught him across the forearm, forcing him to drop his weapon with a hiss of pain.

The Talon staggered back, clutching his bleeding arm, his eyes narrowing in hatred. "You're good. I'll give you that."

Levi didn't reply. He moved in swiftly, his blade finding its mark again as he drove it into the man's chest. The Talon's eyes widened, shock and pain flickering across his face as he fell to his knees.

Levi stood over him. He couldn't afford to let him live. If this man knew who he was, he'd alert the others, and Levi's mission would be over before it truly began.

The Talon gasped, blood seeping from his lips as he managed one last, defiant sentence. "You... won't stop us..."

Levi's blade withdrew with a cold efficiency, and the man slumped to the ground, lifeless.

Levi exhaled slowly, scanning the alley for any signs of more enemies. The shadows remained still, the danger seemingly passed—for now.

He returned to Jace's place. The faint light of a flickering lamp cast long shadows on the walls as Levi entered, his cloak dusted with grime and blood. Jace, who had been lounging on the sagging couch with a tin mug of tea, sat up straighter at the sight of him.

"You look like hell," Jace said. "Rough day?"

Levi didn't respond immediately. He shed his cloak and tossed it over the back of a chair. "The Black Talons," he said curtly. "One of them recognized me."

Jace's expression darkened, his casual demeanor replaced with concern. "Recognized you? That's not good. Did you—"

"He's dead," Levi interrupted, his voice flat. "But they know I'm here."

Jace let out a low whistle, rubbing the back of his neck. "That complicates things."

"The mercenaries. When are they passing through?"

"Tonight," Jace replied. "They'll be taking supplies to Drystan's hideout. Tight security. You planning to sneak in with them?"

Levi nodded, his eyes cold and calculating. "I'll infiltrate the group. Disguise myself as one of them, get into the hideout."

Jace raised an eyebrow. "And what's the plan after?"

Levi leaned against the table. "Plan is simple. Find Kenny. Dismantle the leadership. If Drystan listens to reason, I'll try to talk to him. But if he doesn't, I'll take him out."

Jace let out a low hum, swirling the tea in his mug. "And Kenny? You really think he'll sit down for a friendly chat?"

"No. He's here for his own reasons, and they're not about rebellion or freedom. He'll fight. He always does."

He stared at a spot on the floor, his thoughts clearly elsewhere.

Jace took a sip of his tea, watching him carefully. "You're awful quiet for someone about to march into a deathtrap."

Levi's gaze flicked up. "I don't need commentary, Jace."

"Right, right," Jace said, holding up his hands in mock surrender. "You think he's got it out for you? I mean, he's always been... complicated."

Levi's jaw clenched briefly. "Kenny doesn't do anything without a reason. That's all I know."

Jace nodded slowly. "And that doesn't bother you?"

"It doesn't matter what bothers me," Levi replied flatly. "He's in the way, and I'll deal with him."

Jace let out a low whistle. "You've got ice in your veins, you know that?"

Levi ignored the comment, his focus already shifting back to the plan. "Just make sure you're ready. If something happens—if I don't come back—you get to the surface and let Erwin know everything. No delays."

Jace smirked faintly, the humor in his eyes not quite masking his concern. "Always am. Try not to die, Captain, eh?"

****************************

Meanwhile on the surface at the training grounds, the clang of wooden practice swords and the shouts of recruits filled the air. Mikasa stood at the center of it all, her sparring blade slicing through the air with a force that left her partner, Raiden, scrambling to keep up. Sweat beaded on his forehead as he stumbled back, barely managing to block her strikes.

"Mikasa!" Petra called from the sidelines. "You're supposed to train him, not pulverize him."

Mikasa ignored her, her focus narrowing as her blade collided with Raiden's with a loud crack. The wooden weapon snapped clean in half, leaving Raiden clutching the splintered remains with wide eyes.

A hush fell over the group.

"Is that the third sword this week?" Connie muttered to Jean, his eyebrows shooting up.

Jean snorted. "At this rate, we'll run out of practice weapons by next month."

Sasha, watching from the sidelines, couldn't help but grin. "Maybe we should just hand her a real sword and pray for mercy."

Raiden shuffled back, holding up his hands in surrender. "I-I think I'll sit out the next round."

"You volunteered for her mentorship," Connie teased, smirking at Raiden's pale face. "This is what you get."

"Mentorship?" Raiden muttered, shaking his head as he stared at the shattered remains of his practice sword. "Feels more like a death sentence."

Jean chuckled. "Don't worry, Raiden. If you survive, you'll be the toughest guy in the Corps. If not... well, it was nice knowing you."

Mikasa didn't respond to the banter, her grip tightening around the hilt of her broken practice sword. Her chest heaved slightly, not from exertion but from a simmering frustration she couldn't quite place. She couldn't shake the lingering edge, the heightened emotions that had been gnawing at her lately.

Petra approached, her hands on her hips as she surveyed the broken weapon in Mikasa's hand. "Alright, that's enough. Take a breather, Mikasa. And Raiden, get a new sword. Again."

"Yes, ma'am," Raiden said quickly, retreating as fast as he could without outright running.

Petra sighed, turning back to Mikasa. "I get that you're intense, but we're not trying to scare the recruits into quitting."

"I'm not trying to scare anyone," Mikasa said evenly, though her tone carried an uncharacteristic sharpness.

"Could've fooled me," Petra muttered under her breath before walking away to oversee another sparring match.

From the sidelines, Sasha leaned closer to Isabel, whispering loudly enough for Mikasa to hear, "I think she's just mad Captain Levi's not here to cool her down."

Isabel grinned mischievously. "You think? She's been breaking swords like they're twigs. If this keeps up, we'll have to start practicing with sticks."

"Maybe Raiden needs hazard pay," Connie joked.

Mikasa shot them a look, her glare cutting through the chatter like a blade. "I can hear you."

"Good," Isabel quipped, smirking. "Means you know we're not wrong."

Mikasa's glare deepened, but she didn't engage further, instead handing the broken sword off to a nearby recruit and walking toward the sidelines. She felt the weight of her frustration pressing down on her, the sharp edges of her emotions cutting deeper than usual. She didn't know why she was so angry or why everything felt so amplified lately.

As she sat down on a bench to catch her breath, Sasha and Isabel exchanged glances. "Think she's okay?"

She sank onto a crate, resting her elbows on her knees as she ran a hand through her hair. Why am I so angry? She clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms. It wasn't just Levi's absence—it was everything. The way her emotions seemed to sit just under her skin, ready to burst at the slightest provocation. The way the smallest things set her off, leaving her feeling raw and exposed.

"Hey." Sasha's voice broke through Mikasa's swirling thoughts. She and Isabel approached, their steps hesitant but their expressions laced with curiosity—and mischief.

"You okay?" Sasha asked, tilting her head. "You've been... uh, extra intense."

Mikasa looked up, her narrowed gaze pinning both of them in place. "I'm fine."

"Sure you are," Isabel quipped, her grin wide as she nudged Sasha with her elbow. "That's why you've been breaking swords and looking like you're ready to punch someone."

Sasha trying to suppress a smirk. "Raiden's still shaking."

Mikasa's grip on her knees tightened. "If he can't handle it, he shouldn't be sparring with me."

Isabel leaned in, her grin turning teasing. "Oh, I know what this is about. You're mad 'cause you miss him, don't you?"

Mikasa stiffened, her dark eyes flicking away, but she said nothing. Isabel, undeterred, pressed on. "What's the matter? Missing his 'motivational speeches'? Or is it something else? You know, the private kind of motivation?"

Mikasa's gaze snapped back to Isabel. "Isabel."

"What?" Isabel said innocently, though her smirk betrayed her. "I'm just saying, maybe we should break a few more swords and see if that brings him back faster."

Sasha snorted. "Careful, Isabel. She might turn that next broken sword on you."

"Worth it," Isabel quipped, though she took a small step back just in case.

But Isabel wasn't done. "Come on, Mikasa. You've been like this since the ball. Admit it—you're sulking because big bro's not here."

"I'm not sulking," Mikasa said sharply, her voice cutting through the air like a blade. Her glare shifted to Isabel, and the fiery look in her eyes was enough to make Isabel raise her hands in surrender.

"Alright, alright," Isabel said quickly, backing up with an exaggerated step. "Message received. No need to go full Ackerman on me."

Sasha tugged on Isabel's sleeve, her grin now more nervous than amused. "Let's give her some space."

"Good idea," Isabel muttered, still watching Mikasa cautiously. "But seriously, Mikasa—don't break another sword. Those things aren't free."

As the two retreated, Sasha whispered something to Isabel that made her giggle quietly, though they both kept their distance. Mikasa let out a slow breath, closing her eyes briefly as she tried to calm the storm in her chest.

They don't know, she reminded herself. They don't know he's gone Underground. And I can't tell them.

His absence gnawed at her, not just because he wasn't there to bark orders or silently observe, but because of the way he'd left without telling her everything. She hated being left in the dark.

He said he'd be back before I knew it, she thought, her jaw tightening. So where is he?

Sometime later, the air was cool and still in the fading light of the evening. Mikasa lingered near the barracks, her arms crossed tightly over her chest as she watched the recruits milling about. Her mind was elsewhere, consumed by thoughts of Levi.

She felt the prickling sensation of being watched and turned to find a man approaching her. He wore the same uniform as the other recruits, his demeanor calm but purposeful. Something about him felt unfamiliar, but not alarmingly so—just enough to make her stand straighter.

"Ackerman," the man said, stopping a few feet away. His voice was low, steady, but there was an edge to it that made her narrow her eyes. "I have a message for you."

"From who?" she asked, her tone clipped.

"Captain Levi," he replied smoothly. "I'm an informant for the Survey Corps, stationed in the Underground. Captain Levi sent me to find you."

Her suspicion flared immediately. "Why would he send someone when he could've told me himself?"

The man hesitated, but only for a moment. "The situation in the Underground has... escalated. There's been movement from the rebellion—more than expected. He thought it best to have someone he trusts handle things alongside him before it's too late."

Mikasa's brow furrowed, her gut twisting with a mix of doubt and concern. "And Commander approved this?"

"Yes," the man said without missing a beat. "It was a last-minute decision. Commander Smith didn't want to alarm the others, so it's being kept quiet. Captain Levi asked for you specifically."

Mikasa's heart raced, her mind churning with questions. It didn't add up. Levi hadn't mentioned anything about this before he left, and the Commander... she wasn't sure what to think.

The man seemed to sense her hesitation and pressed on. "He said you were the only one who could handle this if things got complicated down there. That he needed you."

The words hit her like a blow, stirring something deep inside her—her protectiveness, her loyalty, her growing unease. Levi trusted her. If the situation was as dire as the man implied, how could she ignore it?

But another part of her bristled. "Why didn't he leave or send a written message?" she asked. "Something I could verify?"

The man's gaze shifted briefly, just a flicker, but enough to stoke her suspicion further. "There wasn't time. He left quickly to avoid drawing attention."

Before she could press him further, he stepped back, saluting briskly. "I've delivered the message. Captain Levi is waiting for you. I'll leave you to prepare."

And with that, he turned and walked away, disappearing into the fading light before she could stop him. Mikasa stared after him, her fists clenching at her sides. Something about the interaction didn't sit right with her, but her worry for Levi, amplified by the tension of the past few days, clouded her judgment.

She turned on her heel and headed toward the commander's quarters, determined to confirm the man's story. But when she arrived, the door was closed, and one of Erwin's aides informed her that he was out in a meeting with Nile Dok and unavailable.

Her frustration mounted, the weight of her emotions pressing down on her. Her head throbbed, her chest tight with the irrational but overwhelming fear that something had happened to Levi—something she could've prevented if she'd acted sooner.

Mikasa stalked back to her room, slamming the door behind her. She paced the small space, her hands clenched as she wrestled with herself.

"This doesn't make sense," she muttered aloud, her voice tinged with anger and worry. "Why would he need me now? Why not say something before he left?"

Her thoughts spiraled, the faint voice of reason drowned out by the storm of her heightened emotions. The image of Levi surrounded by danger, alone in the Underground, refused to leave her mind.

Finally, she stopped pacing, her jaw tightening as resolve settled over her. If Levi needed her, she would go. No matter how suspicious the circumstances seemed, she couldn't stand by and do nothing.

"I'll figure it out when I get there," she said to herself. The decision felt reckless, but the alternative—waiting and doing nothing—felt unbearable.

Mikasa waited for the night. She grabbed her gear, strapping her hidden blades securely into place, sliding a small dagger into the pouch at her thigh and tucking a well-worn knife into her boot. It was a habit she hadn't lost since her time in the Underground with Eren and Armin—always armed, always ready.

Her cloak was draped over her shoulders, hood drawn low to hide her face, as she slipped out of the barracks. The hallways were silent, and Sasha's soft snores filled the shared room as Mikasa closed the door carefully behind her, making her way into the night.

The crisp air bit at her cheeks as she approached the stables, her footsteps light. Her heart pounded—not with fear, but with a mix of urgency and defiance. She needed answers, and more than that, she needed to see Levi.

As she reached the stables, Mikasa began saddling a horse, working quickly and quietly. She tightened the straps, her movements practiced and efficient, when a voice broke the silence.

"And what exactly do you think you're doing?"

Mikasa froze, her hand gripping the saddle's strap tightly. Turning, she saw Farlan leaning casually against the stable wall, his arms crossed and an eyebrow raised. His stance might have been relaxed, but his gaze betrayed his concern.

"Stay out of this, Farlan," Mikasa said curtly, turning back to her task. "I don't have time for this."

Farlan pushed off the wall, his boots crunching softly against the straw-covered floor as he approached. "Oh, you don't have time? But you've got plenty of time for bad decisions, though." His tone was edged with skepticism, but there was no mistaking the seriousness in his expression. "I heard your little conversation with that so-called informant earlier. And I have to ask—how do you know he wasn't lying? This could be a trap."

Her fingers pausing momentarily on the reins. "I don't know," she admitted, her voice low. "But I can't just sit here and do nothing. Even if there's a 1% chance he was telling the truth, I can't take that risk."

Farlan groaned, rubbing his hand over his face in exasperation. "So your plan is what? Run straight into the Underground, where you don't even know what you're walking into? Alone? That's not a plan, Mikasa—it's reckless."

Her eyes narrowed, and she turned to face him fully. "What's reckless is knowing there's even a chance that Levi's in danger and doing nothing. I won't just sit around waiting."

Farlan's voice sharpened. "You're assuming Levi even needs help. This is Levi we're talking about. He's probably got everything under control and would chew you out for barging in."

Mikasa's fingers clenched around the reins, her frustration bubbling to the surface. "And what if he doesn't? What if things are worse than we thought? I can't ignore that."

"Damn it, Mikasa," Farlan muttered, pacing in front of her now. "You're not thinking clearly. A guy shows up, says a few cryptic things about Levi, and you're ready to risk everything on his word? Doesn't that strike you as suspicious?"

"Of course it does!" she snapped, her voice rising. "But what am I supposed to do? Wait around for answers that might never come?"

"Yes, because that's what Levi would want you to do," Farlan shot back. "You think he left you behind for no reason? He knew you'd be safer here."

"That's not your decision to make," Mikasa said coldly, her tone cutting. "It's my choice, and I'm going."

Farlan stopped pacing, standing directly in her path now. "You're as stubborn as he is, you know that? You two really do suit each other."

Mikasa glared at him but didn't respond, her jaw tightening as she reached for the saddle again.

Farlan exhaled sharply, his voice softening just slightly. "Look, I get it. You're worried about him. I am too. But you charging down there without a real plan? That's not going to help anyone. Least of all Levi."

"And sitting here does?"

"It buys us time to figure out what's really going on," Farlan said firmly. "You don't even know what you're walking into. What if this informant was baiting you for something else entirely?"

Mikasa hesitated, her fingers brushing the leather straps of the saddle. The logic in his words clashed with the growing urgency in her chest. Her voice was quieter when she finally spoke. "I can't just... not do anything."

Farlan's shoulders slumped, and he ran a hand through his hair. "Fine," he said, his tone resigned. "Then I'm coming with you."

Mikasa's head snapped up, her eyes narrowing. "No. You're not."

"Like hell I'm not," Farlan countered, crossing his arms. "If you're going to be this reckless, someone has to make sure you don't get yourself killed."

"I can handle myself."

"I know you can," Farlan said. "Levi would be mad if we both went. He'd chew me out for not stopping you. But you know what? He'd be even more pissed if I let you go alone. And I'd rather face his wrath knowing you're not walking into this mess by yourself."

She stared him for a moment. "Fine."

Farlan nodded, grabbing another horse.

Before they could leave the stable, Mikasa's sharp instincts kicked in. She paused, her eye narrowing as she scanned the dimly lit area. For a brief moment, she thought she saw a shadow shift in the corner, but when she looked again, there was nothing.

"Something wrong?" Farlan asked, noticing her hesitation.

She shook her head, though her muscles remained tense. "No. Let's go."

As they reached the stables' exit, Farlan stopped and turned to her. "Let me handle the guards," he said, his tone firm but not unkind. "They know me, and it'll be less suspicious if I do the talking."

Mikasa gave a curt nod, stepping back slightly to let him lead the way. Farlan always carried himself with a quiet confidence, and she trusted him to navigate this hurdle without drawing unnecessary attention.

At the gates, two guards stepped forward, their lanterns casting long shadows on the cobblestone path. "Farlan," one of them said. "What's going on? Why are you heading out this late?"

"Captain Erwin's orders," Farlan replied smoothly, his posture relaxed but professional. "Urgent message to deliver. Time-sensitive."

The guard's eyes flicked to Mikasa, his suspicion barely concealed. "She with you?"

Farlan didn't hesitate. "Yes. Commander Smith specifically requested her assistance. I'd appreciate it if we didn't waste time."

The guard exchanged a glance with his partner, who seemed less convinced. "Doesn't feel right. These kinds of things usually come through official channels."

Farlan let out a soft sigh, tilting his head slightly. "Look, if you want to wake the Commander in the middle of the night to confirm this, be my guest. But when he asks why you delayed us, I'll be sure to mention your names."

The guard hesitated, clearly weighing the risk. Finally, he stepped aside. "Fine. Just make it quick."

"Always do," Farlan said with a polite nod, nudging his horse forward.

Mikasa followed silently, her hood drawn low. Once they were far enough away from the gates, Farlan glanced over at her, his expression unreadable. "You're welcome," he said lightly, a trace of humor in his tone.

"Thank you," Mikasa muttered, her voice quiet but genuine.

They rode in silence until they reached the outskirts of the town. Farlan dismounted near an old, weathered structure, tying his horse to a hidden post. He motioned for Mikasa to follow as he pushed aside a pile of old crates, revealing a narrow passage leading underground.

"This way," he said. "It'll get us where we need to go."

Mikasa followed him into the passage on the uneven ground. The shadows enveloped them as they descended, the air growing cooler and heavier with each step.

As they reached a wider tunnel, Mikasa's eyes adjusted to the dim light, taking in the familiar surroundings. The Underground had changed little since she'd last been here, but she felt no nostalgia—only a quiet determination.

Farlan glanced at her as they moved through the narrow streets, his eyes watchful. "You remember much about this place?"

"I haven't forgotten," Mikasa replied. "You don't forget something like this."

Farlan nodded, his gaze scanning the shadows. "Good. You're going to need that. Things here are different now—tenser. The rebellion's probably stirred up more than just resentment. People are desperate, and desperate people make dangerous choices."

"I know how to handle myself."

"I'm counting on it," Farlan said with a faint smirk. "Let's just hope we don't run into anyone looking for trouble tonight."

They continued deeper into the Underground.

As they navigated the narrow, damp passageways, Mikasa's eyes darted to the shadows ahead, her body tense and alert. The heavy silence was interrupted only by the occasional drip of water echoing through the tunnels. She abruptly stopped, her hand brushing the knife strapped to her boot.

Farlan glanced back, noticing her sudden stillness. "What's wrong?"

Mikasa's gaze scanned the darkness, her senses on high alert. "Nothing," she said after a moment, though her tone was cautious. "Just... thought I heard something."

Farlan nodded, trusting her instincts.

As they passed an abandoned storefront, Farlan finally broke the silence. "Do we even know where to start looking for Levi? The Underground isn't exactly a small place."

Mikasa thought back. "All he told me was that a rebellion has been brewing for a while against the monarchy and the Survey Corps. And that he had to take care of it."

Farlan frowned. "If he's chasing a rebellion, he wouldn't go in blind. Levi's the type to find someone who knows the lay of the land—someone he can trust."

Mikasa glanced at him. "Do you know anyone like that?"

"Yeah," Farlan said with a nod. "Jace. He's an old acquaintance—used to run with me, Levi, and Isabel back when we lived down here. If Levi's here, there's a good chance he's connected with Jace. The guy's sneaky as hell and knows everyone worth knowing in the Underground."

"Where would we find him?" Mikasa asked, her voice laced with urgency.

Farlan smirked faintly. "If I know Jace, he'll be holed up in one of his usual spots. Probably somewhere quiet, where he can keep his ears open without drawing attention. He's not one for staying in the same place too long, though."

"Then we'll start with where he's most likely to be."

Farlan gave her a sidelong glance as they continued walking. "You're really set on this, aren't you?"

"Of course I am," Mikasa replied without hesitation. "Levi's here. That's all the reason I need."

Farlan didn't say anything, but a smile tugged at his lips. "Alright, then. Let's find Jace."

The Underground stretched out before them, its labyrinthine pathways eerily quiet except for the occasional clatter of footsteps or the muted laughter of drunkards.

Mikasa and Farlan passed a small market area, its stalls mostly shuttered for the night. A few, however, remained open, catering to the lingering souls of the Underground. Drunks stumbled out of makeshift taverns, their laughter echoing in the otherwise still air. Mikasa's hood was pulled low, concealing her face, but she moved with a purpose that made her stand out even in the crowd.

"Not exactly a welcoming vibe," Farlan muttered, his voice low as he scanned their surroundings.

"It's better this way," Mikasa replied curtly, her eyes flicking to a nearby stall selling rusted tools and random scraps. The man behind the counter, middle-aged with a wiry frame and a face weathered by years in the Underground, looked up lazily as they passed.

Then his gaze locked.

"Well, I'll be damned," the man said, his gravelly voice cutting through the quiet. "If it isn't the Executioner."

Mikasa stopped in her tracks, her body tensing. She turned slowly, her face still half-hidden by her hood, but the man was already grinning. He leaned forward over the counter, his dark eyes gleaming with recognition.

"Didn't think I'd see you again," he continued, his voice carrying a mix of surprise and amusement. "What's it been? A year?"

"Longer," Mikasa said evenly, lowering her hood just enough for him to confirm her identity.

Farlan, standing slightly behind her, raised an eyebrow but stayed silent, observing.

The man chuckled, shaking his head. "Still as sharp as ever, huh? You've been missed down here. Eren and Armin with you, or are you flying solo these days?"

"They're not here," Mikasa replied, her tone clipped. "And I don't have time for small talk. What do you know about the rebellion?"

The man's grin widened. "Straight to the point, just like old times." He leaned back, his expression growing more serious. "Drystan's been stirring the pot for a while now. Promising revenge against the monarchy, the Survey Corps—anyone connected to the surface. Says he's gonna bring justice for the Underground, whatever that means."

"What's he after?" Mikasa pressed.

"Revenge, power—take your pick," the man replied with a shrug. "People down here are desperate. They'll follow anyone who gives them hope, even if it's false. Drystan's good at that—talks big, makes people believe in him. And with Kenny running the show by his side? Well... let's just say things have gotten a lot uglier."

Mikasa's expression didn't waver, but Farlan noticed the slight change. "Anything else?"

The man shook his head. "Not much. Just rumors. Drystan's got a lot of people on his side, and he's not afraid to use them. You'd better watch your back if you're getting involved in this."

"Thanks," Mikasa said simply, turning to leave.

The man chuckled again as they walked away. "Take care, Executioner. And if you see Eren and Armin, tell 'em old Dax says hi."

Mikasa didn't respond, her focus already shifting back to their objective. As they moved further into the shadows, Farlan glanced at her, a small smirk tugging at his lips.

"The Executioner, huh?" he said, his tone teasing. "You've been holding out on me."

"It's just a name," Mikasa replied flatly, though a faint flicker of irritation crossed her face.

"Yeah, but it's a pretty badass one," Farlan continued, clearly enjoying himself. "Makes me wonder what kind of stories are attached to it."

"Drop it," Mikasa said, her voice firm as she pulled her hood back into place.

Farlan chuckled, but he didn't push further. "Alright, alright. But for the record, it suits you."

Mikasa didn't respond, her eyes already scanning the maze of pathways ahead. They had to find Jace—and soon.

The pathways grew narrower as Mikasa and Farlan walked through the winding streets.

Farlan led the way, his hood drawn low over his face. "Jace used to hang around here," he muttered, gesturing toward a derelict building tucked away in a shadowy corner. The structure was worn, its windows boarded up and the door hanging loosely on its hinges.

They approached cautiously, Mikasa scanning the area as Farlan stepped inside. The interior was just as rundown as the exterior, filled with broken furniture and the faint smell of mildew. Farlan moved through the space quickly, checking for any signs of life, but the place was empty.

"Nothing," he said, his voice carrying a note of frustration as he returned to Mikasa. "Looks like he hasn't been here in a while."

Mikasa frowned. "Doesn't he have some way to contact you? A signal? A drop point?"

Farlan shook his head. "Jace doesn't work like that. He's slippery, always has been. It's part of what keeps him alive down here. You don't find Jace unless he wants to be found."

"Great," Mikasa muttered, crossing her arms. "So what's the plan? Wait around and hope he shows up?"

"Not exactly," Farlan said, heading back toward the door. "I know a few other spots he might be. We'll check the next location."

They stepped back into the cold, stale air of the alleyway. Mikasa followed Farlan closely, her senses heightened. The further they walked, the darker and quieter the paths became, until only the faintest glimmers of light marked their surroundings.

Then it hit her.

She slowed her pace, her ears picking up on something—a barely audible shuffle behind them. Her eyes narrowed, and her hand instinctively moved toward the hidden knife strapped to her leg beneath her cloak.

Farlan glanced back at her, noticing the shift in her posture. "What is it?" he asked in a low voice, his own body tensing.

Mikasa didn't answer immediately, her gaze scanning the shadows. There it was again—a faint sound, like a foot scuffing against stone. Someone was following them.

"We're not alone," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

Farlan subtly adjusted his stance, his hand moving toward his belt where his own concealed weapon was hidden. "How many?"

"Not sure," Mikasa replied, her voice steady. "But they're trying to stay quiet."

They continued walking, their movements calm and deliberate as if they hadn't noticed their pursuer. Mikasa's pulse quickened, but her expression remained cold and composed. Her mind worked quickly, assessing their surroundings for an advantage.

As they turned a corner into a narrow passageway, she stopped abruptly, her hand shooting out to grip Farlan's arm. "Wait."

She turned, her eyes locking on the darkened path behind them. "I'll handle this," she said softly, her tone leaving no room for argument.

Farlan opened his mouth to protest, but her gaze silenced him. "Just stay ready."

The figure came into view—a wiry man in his late twenties with scruffy hair, and a swagger that reeked of arrogance. His patched cloak hung loosely on his shoulders, and his eyes glinted in the dim light. Mikasa didn't waste time on words. The moment she saw him, she moved.

Her fist connected with his jaw before he could react, the sheer force of the punch sending him staggering back into the alley wall. A tooth flew from his mouth, clattering onto the stone floor with a hollow echo. He groaned, clutching his face as he slid down the wall, spitting blood onto the ground.

"Who are you, and why are you following us?" Mikasa demanded, as she drew her knife.

The man groaned but tilted his head back, laughing—a grating, devilish sound that set Farlan's nerves on edge. "Oh, this is priceless," he rasped, wiping blood from his split lip. "You've got a mean punch, sweetheart."

Mikasa stepped closer, her knife glinting in the faint light. "Answer me."

The man let out a low whistle, his eyes shamelessly dragging over her curves, lingering inappropriately. "Feisty," he sneered. "I like that."

Before he could say another word, Mikasa's knee drove into his stomach with brutal precision. He doubled over, gasping for air, but she wasn't done. Grabbing a fistful of his greasy hair, she yanked his head back, forcing him to look at her.

"Try again," she hissed.

The man wheezed, his grin faltering before it twisted back into something smug. "Oh, I wonder how much the Talons would reward me for you."

Her grip on his hair tightened. "Talons?"

"The Black Talons," he drawled, his voice oozing mockery despite the clear pain in his tone. "The special ones. Drystan's favorites. They'd pay a nice sum for someone like you."

Her blade pressed against his throat, just enough to draw a thin line of blood. "Where is the rebellion? Where is Drystan?"

The man chuckled low, his laugh a mix of nerves and malice. "You really are dumb, aren't you, Executioner? Coming back here after all this time?" He shook his head as much as her grip allowed. "You must have a death wish."

At the mention of her old moniker, Farlan stiffened slightly, glancing at Mikasa. Her expression didn't waver.

"Executioner?" the man continued. "Oh, they'll love hearing you're back. But me? I don't feel like chatting."

She leaned in closer, her voice dangerously soft. "Then let's see if this gets you in the mood."

She dragged the blade downward, the cold steel scraping against his chest before stopping just above his balls. He froze, his earlier bravado crumbling.

"What are you doing?" he stammered, his eyes wide with panic.

Mikasa tilted her head, her knife pressing lower. "Start talking," she said evenly, her tone devoid of emotion. "Or you'll leave here missing a very important piece."

The man gulped, beads of sweat forming on his brow. "Alright, alright!" he said quickly, his earlier cockiness gone. "No need to get... creative."

"Where is Drystan?" she demanded, her blade pressing just enough for the man to feel the sharp edge through the fabric.

The man's crooked grin faltered, "Th-the west sector. Near the old foundry. That's where the hideout is."

Mikasa's eyes narrowed, her weight shifting slightly as she pressed the blade harder. "If you're lying..."

"I'm not!" he yelped, his hands raised defensively. "I swear! I wouldn't dare lie to you—Executioner."

Her grip on his hair tightened at the mention of her old Underground moniker. "Then you'll take us there," she said coldly. "Right now."

The man's eyes darted between Mikasa and Farlan, his mind clearly racing. "What, me? No, you don't need me to—"

"You don't seem to understand your position," she cut him off, her voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "If you try to lead us to the wrong place, I'll make sure you regret it."

Her knife trailed lower, and the man froze as the blade rested against his crotch. He gulped, beads of sweat forming on his brow.

"You wouldn't..." he started, his voice trembling.

Mikasa tilted her head, her tone cold as ice. "Try me."

Farlan, standing just behind her, winced. "Uh, Mikasa... maybe ease up just a little?"

She ignored him, her dark eyes boring into the man in front of her. "What's it going to be?"

"I'll take you," the man blurted out, his bravado crumbling completely. "Straight to the hideout. No tricks, I swear."

"Good," Mikasa said, releasing his hair abruptly. He crumpled to the ground, clutching at his neck and glancing up at her with a mix of fear and anger.

As she stepped back, Farlan leaned closer, lowering his voice. "Are you sure about this? He could still be leading us into a trap. We could look for Jace instead—he's more reliable."

Mikasa's eyes didn't leave their captive as she replied, "We don't have time to gamble on finding him. This idiot will take us straight there."

Farlan frowned, but he knew better than to argue when she was this resolute. "Fine," he muttered. "But if it looks bad, we're pulling out."

"Agreed." She kicked the guy with her foot. "Move."

The man scrambled to his feet, brushing himself off while muttering under his breath. "Crazy woman..."

Mikasa's blade flashed in her hand, and he immediately stopped talking, holding up his hands in surrender.

Before they began walking, she said, "Farlan, check him for weapons."

The man's defiant scowl returned, but he didn't dare resist as Farlan stepped forward, patting him down quickly but thoroughly. From beneath the man's cloak, Farlan pulled out a worn, slightly rusted knife.

"Well, look at that," Farlan muttered, holding up the blade. "You carrying this for self-defense or for stabbing people in the back?"

The man didn't answer, glaring at them both, but Mikasa's cold stare didn't waver. "You won't be needing that," she said flatly. "Move in front of us. And don't even think about trying anything."

Grumbling under his breath, the man complied, stepping ahead as Farlan tucked the confiscated knife into his own belt. Mikasa gestured for him to start walking, her blade drawn, pointing to his back, and glinting ominously.

As they made their way deeper into the labyrinthine paths of the Underground, Farlan leaned closer to Mikasa, his voice a low mutter. "You really know how to keep people in line. Remind me to never piss you off."

Before Mikasa could respond, the man walking ahead of them let out a nervous laugh, his steps faltering slightly. "You don't know the half of it," he said, his voice shaking. "You think she's all talk? Back in the day, she didn't just threaten—she actually went through with it. Cut a guy's di—"

"Shut up," Mikasa snapped, as she pressed her blade into his back. The man immediately silenced, his shoulders hunching as if her gaze alone could cut through him.

Farlan blinked, his eyebrows shooting up as he turned to Mikasa with a mix of surprise and amusement. "Wait—did you really—?"

"Keep moving," Mikasa interrupted, her tone leaving no room for further discussion. Her grip tightened on her blade, and the man's pace quickened, clearly eager to stay ahead of her.

Farlan chuckled softly as he fell into step beside her. "Remind me to never ask you about your past again."

Mikasa didn't respond, her focus locked on the figure ahead. But in the back of her mind, a flicker of annoyance mingled with the faintest tinge of satisfaction.

As they walked, the man led them deeper into the Underground, his swagger returning slightly as he adjusted to the blade digging into his back. "You know," he said with a sly grin, "they're going to love seeing you again, Executioner. You're a bit of a legend down here."

She didn't trust him, but her instincts told her this was the quickest way to find Levi. Every step brought them closer to the hideout—and, unknowingly, to a trap. Beside her, Farlan shot her a wary glance but said nothing, his unease growing with every step.

The man's grin widened as he imagined the Black Talons' reaction. If he played this right, he'd be the one to deliver Mikasa Ackerman to them, earning not only their favor but a hefty reward. He just needed to get her to the hideout without getting himself gutted first.

****************************

Meanwhile, Levi waited at a dimly lit alley. He crouched low behind a stack of crates, his eyes trained on the approaching cart. The mercenaries were moving slowly, their weapons and supplies piled high.

Levi stayed still as the cart trundled closer, the wheels squeaking softly against the cobblestone path. Timing this would require precision. As the cart passed his hiding spot, he silently darted out, his movements quick and fluid. In a single motion, he hoisted himself up and slipped into the cart, hiding beneath a tarp without so much as a sound.

The cart continued its journey, winding through the twisting paths of the Underground. Levi remained motionless, every muscle tense, his senses picking up on every creak of the cart and every snippet of conversation.

At the entrance to the hideout, the cart came to a halt. A man stationed at the door stepped forward, his eyes scanning the driver and the cargo. "Badge," he grunted, holding out a hand.

The driver reached into his coat and pulled out a small iron badge etched with a crude emblem—proof of his affiliation with Drystan's rebellion. The man at the door studied it for a moment before stepping aside. "Go on through."

Levi felt the cart lurch forward again as it rolled into the hideout. The atmosphere shifted immediately—voices, the clang of metal, and the hum of activity filled the air. The cart finally stopped, and Levi listened closely as one of the men muttered, "Why the hell is this so heavy?"

The tarp shifted slightly as someone began to lift it. As soon as the gap was large enough, Levi struck. His hand shot out, clamping over the man's mouth before he could cry out. In a swift, brutal motion, Levi twisted his neck with precision, the crack echoing softly in the storage room.

The man's body slumped silently to the ground, and Levi quickly dragged it into a dark corner, covering it with loose sacks of supplies. He moved efficiently, pulling the man's jacket and hat from his body and slipping them on. The fit was slightly tight, but it would suffice.

Levi adjusted the hat low over his face, the shadow concealing his features. He scanned the room quickly—racks of weapons, crates of ammunition, and various supplies filled the space. The rebellion was well-stocked, far better than he'd anticipated. He made a mental note of the details before slipping out of the storage room, blending seamlessly into the flow of activity in the hideout.

His eyes flicked around, assessing every face, every conversation, every corner of the operation. He had one goal: find Kenny and Drystan. And if anyone got in his way, they wouldn't live to regret it.

Levi moved through the hideout with practiced ease. He caught fragments of conversations as he navigated the maze-like corridors, ears tuned to any mention of Drystan or Kenny.

"...just a day or two left now," one man said. He was speaking to a companion near a stack of crates filled with rifles and blades.

"Finally," the other replied. "This attack is going to put the Corps in their place. Drystan and Kenny have planned this perfectly. Once we hit that base, they'll know we're not messing around."

Levi's eyes narrowed as he absorbed the information. A coordinated attack on a Survey Corps base? It wasn't just rebellion anymore; it was war.

"You think the Black Talons will be involved?" the first man asked.

"Of course," the second one replied. "They'll lead the charge. No one's better at taking out high-value targets. They've got their sights set on this one, for sure."

The men laughed, as they clinked their mugs together. Levi didn't linger; he'd heard enough. He slipped past them, his steps quick and silent as he made his way deeper into the hideout.

Drystan wasn't just rallying the Underground for petty rebellion—this was an organized, calculated assault meant to destabilize the Survey Corps and send a message to the monarchy. And Kenny, with his brutal efficiency and personal vendettas, was a key player.

Levi clenched his fists. He needed to stop this attack before it began.

He kept to the shadows. Then he saw him—Drystan, the charismatic leader of the rebellion, standing in a small, guarded room just off the main hall. The guards at the door were chatting, their attention briefly diverted.

Levi moved silently, his steps calculated. He waited until the guards turned their backs, slipping past them with practiced ease. Inside, Drystan stood alone, pouring over a worn map spread across a makeshift desk.

Levi struck quickly, covering Drystan's mouth with one hand while holding a knife to his throat with the other.

"Don't scream," Levi muttered, his voice low and dangerous. "I'm not here to kill you—yet."

Drystan stiffened but didn't struggle, his eyes narrowing as he glanced sideways at the hooded figure behind him. Levi slowly released his grip, stepping back just enough to allow Drystan to speak.

"Who the hell are you?" Drystan demanded.

"Someone who knows what it's like to survive down here," Levi replied, keeping his knife at the ready.

Drystan's eyes flicked to the blade before taking in Levi's stance and the clean look of someone from the surface. "You live above ground, surrounded by clean walls and open skies. Down here, we choke on your dirt while you call us criminals."

Levi didn't rise to the bait. "I know what it's like to choke on that dirt. I was born in it. But this rebellion of yours isn't going to give you freedom—it's going to destroy what little you have left."

Drystan's expression shifted, a flicker of surprise crossing his face. "You're from the Underground?"

"Born and raised," Levi said flatly, adjusting his hat to reveal his face. Recognition flickered in Drystan's eyes.

"You're Levi," Drystan said slowly. "Kenny mentioned you."

"Of course he did," Levi said, his tone dripping with disdain. "He's been feeding you half-truths, making you think you've got a real shot at freedom with him on your side."

Drystan's eyes narrowed. "And why shouldn't I trust him? He's the one who brought us weapons, resources, a chance to fight back."

Levi took a step closer, his voice dropping to a near-growl. "You think Kenny cares about your survival? About your freedom? He doesn't. He's using you, Drystan. Just like he's used everyone else he's ever worked with. And when this rebellion fails—and it will fail—he'll disappear, leaving you to take the fall."

Drystan's fists clenched at his sides, but his resolve seemed to waver. "You expect me to take your word for it?"

Levi smirked, though there was no humor in it. "You're smarter than that. Look around. Do you really think this rebellion is yours? Or are you just the face of someone else's agenda? You've got weapons now, sure. But do you think that's enough? The people on the surface—the Survey Corps, the Garrison, the MPs—they're trained soldiers. They've fought Titans, survived battles you can't imagine."

Drystan hesitated, his gaze flicking to the map on the table. "If you're trying to turn me against Kenny, it's not going to work. He's done more for us than anyone from the surface ever has."

Levi sheathed his knife, though his posture remained tense. "I'm not your enemy, Drystan. But Kenny isn't your ally, either. Ask yourself this: who's really paying for all of this? The weapons, the supplies—none of it comes cheap."

Drystan's earlier bravado faltering. "We've lived under their boots for too long. This isn't about proving a point. It's about survival."

"You're not fighting for survival. You're walking your people into a massacre."

Levi could see the seeds of doubt taking root. Before he could press further, a sound made them both freeze.

...

The man who had been leading Mikasa and Farlan through the winding corridors of the Underground hideout stopped abruptly, glancing back at Mikasa with a smug grin. "Alright, Executioner," he said, his voice laced with mockery. "I brought you here, didn't I? No cheap tricks. You can lower the blade now."

Mikasa's blade pressed against his back, her grip steady. Her eyes narrowed at his tone, but after a tense moment, she relented. Slowly, she lowered her blade, keeping it ready by her side.

The man exhaled dramatically, pretending to wipe sweat from his brow. "Phew, finally. Thought you might've forgotten how to trust someone. Guess I was wrong."

Mikasa's glare didn't waver. "Move."

He turned to face her, his expression was neutral. Then, like a switch flipping, a wide, arrogant smirk spread across his face. He dashed, "Executioner, you really are stupid, aren't you?" he sneered, loud enough to echo down the corridor.

Mikasa's grip on her blade tightened. "What—"

Before she could finish, he bellowed at the top of his lungs, "I HAVE BROUGHT MIKASA ACKERMAN HERE! NOW GIVE ME MY REWARD!"

The sound reverberated through the tunnels, a call to arms for anyone nearby.

Mikasa, her dark eyes blazing with fury, was frozen for only a second. The reality of the betrayal sank in.

The man spread his arms, still yelling. "I've done my job! She's all yours now, Talons! Come out and get her!"

The moment was his last.

Mikasa moved with deadly precision, her blade slicing cleanly across his throat before the smirk could fade. Blood sprayed, and the man gurgled as he fell to the ground, clutching his neck, gurgling his last breaths, but Mikasa didn't flinch.

"Idiot," she muttered, wiping the blade clean with a flick of her wrist.

But the damage was done. The commotion had drawn attention.

...

"I HAVE BROUGHT MIKASA ACKERMAN HERE! NOW GIVE ME MY REWARD!"

The words hit Levi like a thunderclap, freezing him mid-step. His heart stuttered, his breath catching as his mind raced. Mikasa? Here? That can't be—

Levi's fingers tightened into fists at his sides. She wasn't supposed to be here. She couldn't be here.

Drystan immediately turned to Levi, his expression suspicious. "What's going on?" he demanded.

Levi didn't respond, the question barely registering through the haze of panic and anger boiling beneath the surface.

"Stay here," he ordered curtly as he turned toward the source of the noise.

"Like hell I'm staying put," Drystan muttered.

Levi's mind churned as he approached the commotion, dread and rage warring within him. How did she get here? How did they find out? Who was stupid enough to let this happen?

The corridor opened into a wider space, and the sight that greeted him brought his thoughts to a screeching halt.

Mikasa stood at the center of the chaos, her stance firm and unyielding. Blood dripped from the edge of her blade, pooling around the lifeless body of the man. Farlan stood beside her, his own stance defensive but less certain, his eyes darting nervously around the growing crowd of armed men encircling them.

Levi's chest tightened at the sight of her, anger and concern flaring in equal measure. Her hood was pushed back, her raven hair catching the dim light, and her dark eyes burned with a ferocity that was both awe-inspiring and terrifying.

"Executioner," one of the men muttered, his voice thick with both fear and venom.

Executioner? Levi thought.

The word rippled through the crowd, whispers turning into murmurs of recognition. The tension in the air crackled like a live wire, the guards' grips on their weapons tightening as they stared at Mikasa with a mix of disdain and fear.

His heart ached with a protective instinct.

Drystan stepped up beside him. "This is what you brought here? This is why you came?"

"No. Tell them to lower their weapons, they're with me." Levi said quickly. He didn't have time for Drystan's paranoia. His focus was solely on Mikasa.

Drystan hesitated.

Mikasa met the first attack with ease, sidestepping and disarming her assailant with a brutal efficiency that left him sprawled on the ground. Farlan took on the second, using his training to block and neutralize the attacker without lethal force.

The crowd surged, the air thick with aggression. Just as another wave of men rushed forward, Levi moved.

In a blur of speed, he stepped between Mikasa and the advancing guards, his blade flashing as he parried an oncoming strike. His sudden presence halted the chaos, and his commanding voice rang out.

"Enough!"

Mikasa gasped in relief at his voice, "Levi!"

The crowd froze, their weapons poised mid-strike as they registered Levi's presence. His eyes burned with fury, his gaze cutting through them like a knife.

"Lower your weapons," he commanded.

Levi? The crowd murmured.

The guards hesitated, their eyes darting between each other, Drystan, and the enraged woman before them.

Drystan crossed his arms. "Why should they? She's clearly here to cause trouble."

Levi turned to him, his gaze cold. "Because if they don't, this is going to turn into a bloodbath, and I guarantee it won't be her blood they're cleaning off the floor."

Drystan's eyes narrowed, but after a tense moment, he raised a hand. "Stand down," he ordered, though his tone was laced with reluctance.

The guards eased back, though their grips on their weapons remained tight. The tension in the air was thick enough to choke.

"You've got ten minutes," Drystan said. "After that, I expect answers." He gestured for his men to give them space, but the unease didn't dissipate.

One of the guards stepped forward and said. "But why? She's the one the Talons are looking for, isn't she? Mikasa Ackerman?"

At her name, a ripple of murmurs spread through the group. Another man sneered, his expression dark. "Who knew it'd turn out to be the Executioner? This is great. I've got some unsettled debts with her."

Mikasa's stance shifted subtly, her feet planting more firmly as she prepared for a fight. Eyes locked onto the sneering man.

Levi's voice cut through the tension like a blade. "Take one step toward her, and you'll leave here in pieces."

The raw, unrelenting force of his threat made the room feel smaller, the air heavier. "Test me," Levi continued, stepping forward just enough to close the distance between them.

Levi's eyes bore into the sneering man. The man faltered, his sneer slipping into a nervous grimace as he stepped back, mumbling something incoherent under his breath.

Drystan's gaze lingered on Mikasa for a moment. "Ten minutes. Don't waste them."

Levi led Mikasa and Farlan to the side, far enough from Drystan's men but close enough to keep an eye on the situation. He didn't say a word at first, his silence deafening. When he finally turned to face them, his expression was ice.

"What the hell were you thinking?" He didn't raise his voice—he didn't need to.

Mikasa hesitated, her hands clenching into fists at her sides. "I—"

"Not you," Levi snapped, turning his gaze on Farlan. "You. You're supposed to know better. What were you thinking, letting her come down here?"

Farlan bristled, but he held Levi's gaze. "You know as well as I do, Levi—she doesn't listen to anyone when her mind's made up."

"And that's an excuse?" Levi said, his tone slicing through the space between them. "You're supposed to stop her, not follow her into a goddamn death trap."

Mikasa stepped forward. "He didn't let me do anything. I came because—"

Levi's eyes snapped to her, silencing her mid-sentence. "I'll get to you in a minute," he said coldly before turning back to Farlan. "Do you have any idea what you've done? You brought her down here—exposed her—and now she's the reason every blade in this place is pointed at us."

Farlan rubbed the back of his neck "If I hadn't come ... she'd be down here alone. And you'd be angrier."

Levi didn't respond, but he wasn't satisfied. He finally turned his attention to Mikasa, his expression unforgiving.

"Now you," he said, his voice dropping even lower. "Explain."

Mikasa met his gaze, her own eyes blazing. "An informant came to me. He said you needed me—that the situation here was escalating, and you wanted me to join you."

"And you believed him?" Levi said, his voice dripping with incredulity. "You believed some random guy who shows up out of nowhere?"

"I didn't trust him, but he seemed to know about the Underground rebellion. He said the Commander had approved it."

Levi took a step closer, his presence looming. "And you didn't think to verify that before charging in here?"

Mikasa hesitated, her emotions warring inside her. She wanted to argue, to justify her actions, but deep down, she knew he was right. Still, the stress of the last few days, the worry, the unanswered questions—they all boiled over.

"He wasn't at the HQ and I didn't have time!" she snapped, her voice rising for the first time. "You've been gone for days, Levi! Days! What was I supposed to do? Sit and wait while—"

"Yes!" Levi interrupted, his tone harsh. "That's exactly what you were supposed to do. Trust me to handle it, like I told you to. But instead, you've jeopardized everything."

Her anger spilling over. "I couldn't just sit there doing nothing! What if something happened to you?"

"That's not your call to make!" Levi snapped back. "Do you have any idea what you've done? You've blown my cover, brought attention to yourself, and now you've made this entire situation ten times worse."

Before Mikasa could respond, the sound of slow clapping echoed through the room. Both Levi and Mikasa turned toward the entrance, where a figure stood silhouetted in the dim light. The sound of boots tapping against the floor accompanied the slow clap, and then a familiar, smug voice cut through the tension.

"Well, well, well," the man drawled, his tone dripping with mock amusement. "Look who it is."

Kenny Ackerman stepped into the room.

Chapter Text

"Well, well, well. Look who it is."

Kenny Ackerman stepped into the room, his large, exaggerated hat tilted slightly forward, casting a shadow over his features. His signature guns gleamed at his sides, and his expression was of playful amusement. He stopped a fair distance away, his hands resting casually on his hips, surveying the scene with a faint smirk.

"Levi in the flesh," Kenny continued, spreading his arms theatrically. "And here I was thinking you might have died on me."

In an instant, Kenny closed the distance between them, his movements fast and precise. Levi's instincts kicked in immediately, and he stepped in front of Mikasa, his stance protective, his glare locking onto Kenny.

Kenny noticed, of course. His eyes flicked between Levi and Mikasa, his smirk widening. "Awfully jumpy, aren't we?" he teased. His gaze settled on Mikasa for a beat too long, and Levi shifted to block her from view entirely.

Kenny tilted his head, feigning surprise. "Well now, this is interesting," he mused. "Levi, playing the knight in shining armor. Didn't think I'd live to see the day."

His smirk grew as he stepped slightly to the side, peering around Levi's shoulder to catch another glimpse of Mikasa. With a flourish, Kenny removed his hat and gave a deep, exaggerated bow. "Milady," he said, his tone dripping with mockery. "What a pleasure."

Levi blocked Kenny's view once more. "Enough, Kenny," he said coldly.

Kenny straightened, placing his hat back on with a smirk. "Touchy, touchy. Can't even give the lady a proper greeting?" His gaze returned to Levi, and something in his expression shifted slightly. "You're awful protective of this one. Don't tell me..." He trailed off, "oh, I see now."

Levi didn't respond, but the way his posture tensed was all the confirmation Kenny needed. Kenny let out a low whistle, shaking his head in mock disbelief.

"This just gets better and better," Kenny said. "Captain Levi, caught in a web of... what is this? Duty? Honor? Or something a little more personal?" His voice dipped lower, taunting.

"Get to the point, Kenny," Levi snapped.

Kenny chuckled, stepping back slightly but keeping his hands loosely near his guns. "Oh, don't worry, kid. I've got plenty to say. But first—"

Colette's dagger came slashing down from above, aiming for Mikasa's head. But Mikasa's blade intercepted it mid-air, the clang of metal echoing through the tense room. The force of the strike sent her skidding back a few steps, creating a separation between her and the group. Colette moved to follow, a sly smirk curling on her lips as she twirled her dagger with a casual, practiced flair.

"Look who decided to join the fun," Kenny drawled in mock amusement.

"Well, well," Colette said. "The infamous Executioner. I've been dying to see if the stories are true."

Mikasa took a fighting stance. "You'll regret finding out."

Levi stepped forward instinctively, his protective instincts flaring. "Mikasa—"

"Eyes on me, kid," Kenny interrupted smoothly, stepping into Levi's path. His expression was infuriatingly smug, his hands hovering near his twin guns. "Let the ladies have their moment, eh?"

Levi's eyes flicking to Mikasa briefly before locking onto Kenny with icy precision. "She's not your entertainment."

"Relax," Kenny said, spreading his arms. "She's got the Ackerman blood, doesn't she? Built to protect and fight. She'll manage... or not."

Farlan squared off against his opponent, a wiry Talon with quick reflexes and a dagger in each hand. The man's grin was predatory, like he'd already won. But Farlan didn't flinch; his stance was steady, his hand gripping his blade tightly.

Mikasa took a step forward towards Farlan, her instinct to intervene kicking in immediately. But Colette was faster, blocking her path with a flash of steel. "Ah, ah," Colette said, "He's not your fight."

"Farlan—" Mikasa began, but Farlan shot her a look over his shoulder.

"It's fine," he said resolutely. "I've got this."

Levi's knuckles whitened around the hilt of his blades. The urge to step in burned in his chest, but Kenny's presence made it clear that any interference would escalate the chaos.

Just then, five more Talons appeared, moving into the fray with a mix of guns and daggers at the ready. Their movements weren't as precise as the primary fighters, but the threat they posed was enough to make Levi and Mikasa bristle.

Drystan's rebellion members began to stir, the tension in the room growing palpable. Murmurs spread through the crowd, and several rebels moved to join the battle, but Drystan raised a hand.

"Hold off," he commanded. "This isn't our fight. You'll only get in their way."

The rebellion members hesitated, their gazes darting to the fierce battles unfolding before them.

Drystan's voice dropped lower. "Let's see how far they can go before they tear each other apart."

Mikasa's glare locked onto Colette, who was circling her like a predator toying with its prey. "What's your problem?" Mikasa demanded.

"Oh, sweetie," Colette drawled, her voice dripping with mockery. "It's not personal. Well... not entirely. Let's just say I have a knack for cutting down 'legends.' And you..." Her gaze raked over Mikasa with disdain. "You're an Ackerman and an Oriental. Talk about rare blood. No wonder they couldn't resist hunting your kind down."

Mikasa's brow furrowed at the unfamiliar word. "Oriental?"

Colette's grin widened, savoring her confusion. "Oh, you didn't know? That's adorable. Why your family was butchered? Your mother never told you? The mark?"

Instinctively, Mikasa's free hand brushed against the wrapped area of her wrist, where the mark lay hidden. A flash of memory surfaced—her mother's hands, wrapping the fabric tightly around her wrist, her urgent voice: "Never let anyone see this. Promise me."

Colette caught the movement and laughed. "Figures. The last of the Orientals, walking around clueless. Let me guess—they didn't tell you because they wanted you to think you were normal. Well, newsflash, princess—you're not. Never were."

Mikasa gripped her blade tighter, the metal trembling slightly as her rage simmered. Colette, catching the shift, leaned in, her dagger glinting under the dim light. "You're valuable, Ackerman. You're worth more than the entire Underground put together. Shame about your family, though. Did they beg? Or did they go quietly?"

The words were a dagger to the chest, ripping through Mikasa's composure and unleashing a flood of memories: the cabin, the thud of the door breaking open, her mother's desperate cries, the blood pooling around her father and little sister. Her vision tunneled as fury surged through her veins. That dark, lethal space she rarely entered took hold, sharpening her instincts into something almost inhuman.

"Shut up," Mikasa hissed, her voice venomous.

Colette's smirk widened. "Hit a nerve, did I?"

Mikasa didn't reply. She lunged, her blade slicing through the air with deadly precision. Colette barely dodged, her smug grin replaced by a look of startled focus as their blades clashed, sending sparks flying into the stale air.

Colette retaliated with a flurry of strikes from her twin daggers, but Mikasa met each one with ferocity, her movements faster and more precise with every exchange. The vicious smile that Colette had worn faltered as Mikasa pressed the attack, her strikes relentless, forcing Colette to backpedal.

Across the room, Levi's patience snapped. His eyes caught Mikasa's duel as her blade narrowly missed Colette's throat. He moved to step around Kenny, but Kenny raised his gun, the barrel suddenly inches from Levi's face.

"I said eyes on me," Kenny drawled with a warning. "You're no fun when you're distracted."

"You really want to test me right now?"

Kenny smirked, tilting his head like a cat watching a mouse squirm. "Oh, let's test something out, shall we?"

"Kenny," he warned.

"Let's see how much she really means to you, kid." His gun whipped around, the barrel snapping toward Mikasa mid-duel.

The shot rang out before Levi could react.

Mikasa, locked in combat with Colette, saw the gun too late. The bullet grazed her shoulder, the searing pain momentarily disrupting her focus. She stumbled back, clutching the wound as blood seeped through her fingers.

Levi's body moved before his mind caught up, a burst of speed carrying him across the room. A Talon saw the opportunity and lunged toward Mikasa, but Levi was faster. His blade slashed in a clean arc, the Talon dropping to the ground with a grunt before he could get close.

Levi's gaze snapped to Mikasa. "Are you—"

"She's mine," Mikasa growled, cutting him off as she straightened, her blade already raised again. Her voice was feral, and when Levi's eyes met hers, he recognized that look—the same cold, lethal determination she had when she fought Raiden after he accidentally hurt Isabel. It was a look that promised destruction.

Colette, flipping her dagger casually, stepped forward again. "Still standing? Impressive. Let's see how long that lasts."

Mikasa didn't reply. Her lips curled into a vicious smile, and in an instant, she lunged at Colette with ferocity passing Levi.

Kenny blew a whistle. "She's got fire, doesn't she? Guess Ackermans are all the same, everywhere."

Levi didn't look back. His focus snapped back to Kenny, his blades flashing as he charged forward. "KENNYY"

Kenny's grin widened as he fired another shot, the bullet whizzing past Levi's face as he darted sideways, using the tunnel's uneven walls for cover. The sound of the gunshot echoed through the space, drowning out the clashes of blades.

"You're quick, I'll give you that," Kenny drawled. He swung on his ODM-like gear, zipping up and perching on a crumbling ledge with a casual ease. "The blood runs true, huh?"

Levi didn't respond, his focus razor-sharp as he calculated his next move. Kenny fired again, but Levi flipped off the wall, the bullet embedding itself into the stone behind him. Using the momentum, Levi launched himself toward Kenny, blades slashing in a blur of steel.

Kenny parried with his guns, the metal clanging loudly as he twisted midair, his movements almost playful. "You really don't get it yet, do you, kid?" he said, firing a shot that Levi narrowly dodged, the heat of the bullet brushing his cheek.

"Get to the point."

Kenny chuckled, swinging back down to ground level with a dramatic flourish. He landed lightly, his guns spinning before settling in his hands. "You're just like me," he said, his voice getting serious. "That strength of yours—it's in the blood. Same as the girl you're so damn protective of."

Levi's steps faltered for a split second. Kenny's smirk widened, satisfaction glinting. "Yeah, figured you'd want to know. You're an Ackerman, kid. That instinct, that drive to protect—it's what we're made for. Built to survive, built to serve."

"You're lying."

"Am I?" Kenny countered. "Think about it. Why do you think you've got the reflexes of a damned cat? Why do you think you're so good at what you do? It ain't just hard work, boy—it's in the blood. The Ackerman blood."

Levi's thoughts were racing. Kenny's words clawed at the edges of his understanding, pulling together fragments of his past that he'd ignored. That strength, the way he'd always felt his body react faster than his mind during a fight—it had always been there. But this?

"Protective instincts, inhuman reflexes... the works," Kenny continued, twirling his gun lazily. "You've got it all. Just like me. You're the real deal, an Ackerman through and through. You're wired to protect the people you care about. But don't get it twisted—it's also why you're such a pain in the ass."

Before Levi could respond, one of the Talons lunged toward him with a dagger. Without breaking stride, Levi twisted, his blade flashing as the Talon fell with a strangled cry, clutching a deep wound in his side.

"Don't interfere!" Kenny barked at the remaining Talons. His eyes shifted back to Levi. "This is family business."

"You've got a twisted way of defining family."

"Now you're catching on," Kenny said, his grin turning wicked. "I'm your uncle after all. Your dear ol' mom? Kuchel? She was my baby sister."

Levi's breath hitched for the briefest moment. Memories flickered through his mind—his mom's tired smile, the fragile warmth of her touch in the Underground's cold shadows.

"Don't tell me you didn't know?" Kenny's voice was laced with false pity. "Makes sense, I suppose. Kuchel wasn't exactly one to brag about our 'illustrious' bloodline. Hell, she probably didn't even know half of it herself. But me? I figured it out. I dug into it. And let me tell you, kid—it's a hell of a thing to be an Ackerman."

Levi's voice was ice. "If you knew all this, why the hell are you working against me?"

"'Against you?'" Kenny repeated with mock offense, raising a hand to his chest. "This ain't personal. It's business. Someone out there—someone with deep pockets—wants you out of the picture. Paid me damn good money to make sure it happens."

"Who?" Levi demanded.

Kenny's smirk turned sly. "Now, where's the fun in telling you everything? Let's just say you've been a bit of a nuisance, boy. And that little gal over there?" He tilted his head in Mikasa's direction, where she was locked in a vicious duel with Colette. "She's more than just a pretty face with a blade. An Ackerman and an Oriental? Oh, they're gonna have a field day with that one."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

Kenny took a step closer, his gun still raised. "You really don't know, do you? That little firecracker of yours—she's not just any Ackerman. She's from a different branch of the clan that lived separately, one that split off long before you or I ever saw the light of day. Her branch married into the Orientals—a line so rare and so hunted, they might as well be ghosts now."

Levi's gaze flicked toward Mikasa for the briefest moment. "That's got nothing to do with me."

"Doesn't it?" Kenny said. "Think about it, Levi. You and her—same clan, different paths. Your branch, the ones tied to the monarchy, built to protect their rulers like loyal dogs. Hers? They lived outside all that, free from the chains of the monarchy's control. But it didn't save them, did it? Not from what happened to the Orientals."

Levi raised an eyebrow.

"Persecuted. Hunted. Wiped out. All for being different, for being special. Her family's murder? That wasn't just a random act of violence. It was a damn purge."

"You're saying she's the last of them?"

"Bingo," Kenny said, snapping his fingers for emphasis. "A living, breathing relic of two dying bloodlines. An Ackerman and an Oriental. That's why she's worth more than anything you or I could imagine."

Levi was ready to strike. "She's not worth anything to you."

"Oh, relax, kid," Kenny said with a dismissive wave of his gun. "I'm not the one putting a price on her head. But you better believe there are people up top who'd sell their souls to get their hands on her. And you? You're just in the way."

"Try me."

Their fight resumed with a renewed intensity, Kenny firing his pistols while swinging on his gear, the tight confines of the tunnel forcing Levi to rely on quick reflexes and creativity. At one point, Levi grabbed a broken piece of debris, hurling it to block Kenny's line of fire. It worked, forcing Kenny to drop down and engage in close-quarters combat.

Blades clashed with the barrels of Kenny's guns, the sound of metal on metal ringing out as Levi ducked under a wide swing and countered with a precise slash. Kenny twisted away, firing a shot that grazed Levi's ear, but the captain didn't falter.

"You're good," Kenny admitted. "But you've got a soft spot, don't you? Makes you predictable."

Levi's reply was a blur of steel, his movements faster, sharper, and more relentless. The fight had become a deadly dance, each move calculated. But beneath the skill and precision, there was an undercurrent of rage—rage at Kenny, at the lies, and at the danger Mikasa now faced because of it all.

Kenny, Colette, and the Talons fought with reckless abandon, their movements leaving destruction in their wake. Crates of weapons and supplies brought in for the rebellion were overturned, spilling their contents across the floor. Some were crushed underfoot, others shattered entirely as stray blows or gunfire hit them.

Kenny grinned as he swung through the air on his ODM-like gear, firing his pistols without regard for what—or who—was in his path. Levi darted after him, a blur of speed and precision, narrowly avoiding a falling crate that crashed into the ground, scattering ammunition everywhere.

"You're a menace," Levi growled as he closed the distance between them.

Kenny only laughed. "What's a little collateral damage, huh? Gotta make a statement."

On the other side of the room, one of the rebellion's boys, a younger recruit, tried to intervene in Levi and Kenny's fight, hoping to help. Kenny didn't hesitate—he grabbed the boy, using him as a human shield against one of Levi's strikes. Kenny then tossed him aside as though he were nothing, his body hitting the ground with a sickening thud.

Drystan, watching from the edges of the chaos, felt his stomach twist. His eyes darted between the destruction—the ruined supplies, the dead boy, the reckless violence of Kenny and his Talons. This wasn't what he had envisioned for the rebellion. This wasn't liberation—it was senseless carnage.

Kenny, noticing Drystan's expression, smirked as he fired another shot that narrowly missed Levi. "Don't look so shocked, Drystan. Sometimes you gotta break a few things to make progress."

Drystan's men, unarmed and standing by his orders not to intervene, exchanged uneasy glances. The rebellion was supposed to be about rising up, taking back their freedom—but the destruction unfolding before them felt like sabotage.

"You're destroying everything we've worked for," Drystan muttered.

Levi, catching the flicker of doubt on Drystan's face, found a brief opening in his fight with Kenny to call out. "Look at them, Drystan! This is what they're really about—chaos, not freedom. You're being used."

Kenny snorted, swinging his gear to perch atop a damaged crate. "Oh, don't listen to him, Drystan. He's just mad I'm better at this than he is."

But the cracks in Drystan's resolve were growing, his earlier confidence waning as he took in the scene. One of his men approached hesitantly, whispering, "Drystan... what are we going to do?"

Meanwhile, Farlan ducked under a wide swing from the Talon in front of him. His blade lashed out in a clean, precise arc, catching the man across the thigh. The Talon stumbled back with a grunt of pain, and Farlan drove his blade into the man's chest.

Before Farlan could catch his breath, two more Talons appeared, their weapons glinting in the dim light. One held a dagger while the other aimed a pistol at him.

"Great," Farlan muttered. "Just what I needed."

The Talon with the pistol fired, but Farlan had already moved, twisting his body to the side as the bullet whizzed past his shoulder. Using the momentum, he closed the distance to the gunman in an instant, slamming his shoulder into the Talon's chest. The force knocked the man off balance, and Farlan's blade followed, cutting through his arm and forcing him to drop the gun with a cry of pain.

The second Talon lunged at him with the dagger, but Farlan sidestepped smoothly, his blade coming up to parry the strike. The clash of steel rang out, and Farlan shifted his weight, using the Talon's forward momentum against him. With a swift pivot, he drove his elbow into the man's ribs, forcing him back.

"Come on," Farlan muttered, his eyes darting between the two.

The one with the knife dagger lunged. Farlan's blade met each strike with a satisfying clang, analyzing his opponent's patterns. When the Talon overreached on a strike, Farlan's blade flashed upward, catching the man's wrist and forcing him to drop the dagger. In the same motion, Farlan brought his blade around striking him dead.

The gunman lunged again, but Farlan turned, grabbing a broken piece of debris from the ground and hurling it into the man's face. As the Talon recoiled, Farlan moved in, delivering a quick slash across his chest that ended the fight.

Breathing hard but steady, Farlan scanned the room. His eyes caught a brief glimpse of Mikasa and Levi locked in their respective fights, their styles vastly different but equally relentless.

"Mikasa!" Farlan shouted, his voice cutting. Another Talon had his gun raised, aiming directly at Mikasa. Her attention remained locked on Colette, but something shifted in her peripheral vision—a flicker of movement that demanded her attention.

In an instant, Mikasa shoved Colette back with a powerful strike, sending her staggering. With a burst of speed, Mikasa closed the distance between herself and the armed Talon. Her blade sliced through the air with a deadly arc, cleaving the weapon in half before it could fire. The man barely had time to register his shock before Mikasa's follow-up strike ended him, her blade piercing through his chest with ruthless efficiency.

She turned back to Colette, her dark eyes blazing, her lips curled into a smile—a vicious, chilling smile that didn't reach her eyes—a smile that promised no mercy. Colette's smirk faltered for a fraction of a second before she steadied herself, her dual daggers spinning deftly in her hands. "Oh, the Executioner's really showing her colors now, huh?"

The two women clashed again, blades meeting with a shower of sparks. Mikasa's strikes were heavy, her fury translating into raw power. Colette, however, was fast, her movements almost serpentine as she dodged and countered, her daggers slicing through the air in precise, fluid arcs.

Mikasa adjusted her stance, her mind racing as she calculated her next moves. Colette's agility was a challenge, forcing Mikasa to push beyond brute force. Her focus narrowed, her strikes becoming more deliberate as she aimed to corner her opponent. Colette lunged, her daggers aiming for Mikasa's ribs, but Mikasa sidestepped, catching one blade with her own while using her free hand to grab Colette's wrist and twist it painfully.

Colette hissed, using her other dagger to slash at Mikasa's exposed side. Mikasa let go just in time, spinning out of reach. Her boot hit something solid—a chunk of debris—and an idea formed. Without hesitation, she kicked the debris toward Colette's feet. The move was unexpected, and Colette stumbled slightly, her balance faltering.

Mikasa pressed the advantage. She swept in low, grabbing the knife tucked into her boot. With a fluid motion, she feinted high with her blade while the hidden knife slashed toward Colette's leg. The blade found its mark, grazing Colette's thigh and drawing a sharp cry of pain.

"You're not so fast now," Mikasa said coldly, her voice steady despite the adrenaline coursing through her.

Colette's glare hardened, blood trickling down her leg. "Oh, I like you," she said, breathing hard. "Too bad you're such a damn goody-goody. You'd make a hell of a Talon."

Mikasa didn't answer. Instead, she surged forward, using the momentum to slam Colette into the wall. The impact reverberated through the narrow space, and Colette groaned as her head hit the stone. Mikasa's blade was at her throat in an instant, but Colette twisted out of reach, retaliating with a wild slash that Mikasa dodged by inches.

The fight continued, their movements a deadly dance. Mikasa used the limited space to her advantage, forcing Colette into tight corners and using the environment to trip her or block her escapes. Each clash of blades was punctuated by Mikasa's unwavering determination, her killer smile never leaving her face.

Colette, for all her skill, was starting to falter. Her breathing grew heavier, her strikes less precise. Mikasa, on the other hand, seemed almost energized by her rage, her movements aggressive.

"Give up," Mikasa said, her blade knocking one of Colette's daggers from her hand. "You can't win this."

Colette laughed, though it was tinged with frustration. "You think I care about winning? This is just fun for me."

Her remaining dagger darted forward in a last-ditch effort, but Mikasa caught her wrist, twisting it until the weapon clattered to the ground. Colette's smirk faded as Mikasa shoved her back against the wall, her blade hovering dangerously close to her throat.

"You should've stayed down."

Levi's blades twitched in his hands as he glared at Kenny, his eyes scanning every move the older man made. Kenny twirled his gun lazily, a smug grin plastered on his face as if he was enjoying the chaos unfolding around them.

"You're dancing for someone else now," Levi said coldly. "Who's pulling your strings?"

Kenny chuckled. "Oh, now that's rich, coming from you. You're always so curious, huh? Let's just say... I'm helping with bigger plans."

"What plans? Who's paying you?"

Kenny tilted his head. "Now, now, kid. You think I'd just tell you? That'd ruin the fun. All you need to know is—he's not your biggest fan. Paid me a pretty penny to make sure you disappear."

"Who?"

Kenny's eyes gleaming. "Let's call him... a man with a grudge. Deep hatred, in fact. Especially for our kind. Ackermans have a way of pissing off the wrong people."

Levi's brows furrowed, the weight of Kenny's words sinking in. "If this guy hates Ackermans so much, why hire you? You're one too."

Kenny shrugged nonchalantly, spinning his gun once more. "You don't get it. I don't give a damn about bloodlines or grudges. I'm in it for the money. And this guy? He knows I'm not a threat to his little plans. You, though? You're a pain in the ass, just like always. Came down here to play the hero, didn't you?"

"And you're just his lapdog."

Kenny's grin twisted, a mix of mockery and something darker. "Lapdog? Nah. I'm a businessman. I see an opportunity, I take it. And right now, the price on your head is too damn good to pass up."

Without warning, Kenny tossed a smoke bomb at the ground, the dense cloud erupting and filling the space. Levi's instincts kicked in instantly, his body moving on autopilot. He dodged to the side as a gunshot rang out, the bullet grazing the edge of his cloak.

Through the smoke, Kenny's voice taunted him. "But let's not make this boring, huh? Show me what you've got, Ackerman."

Levi's instincts honed in on the faintest sounds—the scrape of Kenny's boots, the cocking of his gun. He darted through the smoke. Kenny fired again, but Levi was already gone, his blade slicing through the air as he closed the distance between them.

Kenny swung his gun like a club, blocking Levi's strike with a loud clang. The two clashed violently, their movements a blur of steel and speed. Kenny's grin didn't waver, even as Levi forced him back with relentless strikes.

"You're good," Kenny said, his voice breathless but still smug. "But not good enough."

Levi's reply was a flash of silver as his blade caught Kenny's arm, drawing blood. Kenny hissed, his grin faltering for the first time.

"You talk too much," Levi growled.

Kenny swung his gun again, but Levi anticipated the move, stepping inside Kenny's guard and slamming the hilt of his blade into Kenny's ribs. The older man staggered, coughing but still grinning through the pain.

"Damn, you've gotten better," Kenny admitted, straightening with a wince.

Levi didn't respond. His blade flashed again, faster this time, and Kenny barely managed to block with his gun. The force of the strike sent him stumbling back, his grin finally fading as he realized he was losing ground.

In a last-ditch effort, Kenny reached for another smoke bomb. Levi anticipated the move, lunging forward to intercept. His blade pierced through the cloud just as it began to form, slicing the canister in two and sending sparks flying.

Kenny snarled, blood seeping from a wound on his side as he staggered backward. "You think it's that easy to take me down?" he rasped, pulling both pistols from his holsters.

Levi's instincts kicked in as Kenny fired. He launched off a nearby crate, flipping in the air as another shot narrowly missed his chest.

Kenny's grin widened despite the blood on his lips. "That's more like it!"

Levi's eyes darted to the chaos around them—the shattered crates, spilled weapons, and a fallen heavy rifle within arm's reach. Calculating quickly, he pivoted midair, landing just inches from the gun. As Kenny fired again, Levi grabbed the rifle.

Kenny hesitated for a fraction of a second, his eyes narrowing. "You wouldn't—"

Levi didn't hesitate. He aimed the rifle with precision, squeezing the trigger. The deafening boom reverberated through the space as the shot hit Kenny square in the chest, sending him crashing back into a pile of debris.

For a moment, silence reigned. Levi stood still, the rifle still raised, his breathing steady despite the adrenaline coursing through him.

Kenny coughed, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth as he slumped against the broken crates. His hat had fallen to the side, and his once-dominant aura now seemed dimmed, though the defiance in his eyes hadn't faded.

"You're... not bad, kid," he wheezed, his voice weak but laced with something almost like pride. "Guess you... learned a thing or two."

Levi lowered the rifle, stepping closer. His eyes bore into Kenny's. "You talk too much."

Kenny chuckled. "Damn right."

With one last effort, Kenny's hand twitched toward his gun. Levi didn't wait. The rifle's butt slammed down onto Kenny's hand. Levi raised the rifle again, pointing it at Kenny's heart.

"You think this changes anything?" Kenny rasped. "He's still coming... for you. For her."

Levi's voice a low growl. "Let him try."

The final shot rang out, and Kenny's body went still, his hat rolling into the shadows. Levi exhaled slowly, lowering the rifle as he turned away, his focus shifting back to the chaos surrounding him. There was no time to linger—he needed to check on Mikasa and Farlan.

...

"You should've stayed down."

Colette gasped for air, glaring at her captor, but Mikasa wasn't finished. Without hesitation, she yanked Colette forward by her hair, forcing her to look her in the eye. The vicious smile on Mikasa's face was unnerving, a haunting contrast to her usual stoic demeanor.

"Don't talk about my family like that," Mikasa hissed. The earlier taunt about her family's final moments echoed in her mind.

Colette, even in her state, sneered. "Oh, the poor little princess of the Orientals," she spat with venom. "Shame your family couldn't handle a real fight—"

The words never finished. Mikasa's blade slashed across Colette's throat with surgical precision, silencing her mid-insult. Blood gushed from the wound as Colette collapsed, droplets falling on Mikasa's face. Mikasa stood over her, her breathing heavy, the vicious look still etched on her face.

The world seemed to hold its breath as the last echoes of the battle faded into silence.

"Mikasa."

Levi's voice cut through the stillness, snapping her back to reality. Her grip on the hilt of her blade loosened as her head turned toward him, her expression shifting from that of a predator to something more vulnerable—though her guard didn't drop entirely. Farlan watched from the side.

Levi's eyes met hers.

The silence that followed the chaos was deafening. Mikasa turned to face Levi, her chest still heaving from exertion, her wound on the shoulder still bleeding. Before she could say a word, his cold glare locked onto her, freezing her in place.

"What the hell were you thinking?" Levi's voice sent a chill through the space. His tone wasn't loud, but the intensity behind it was far more cutting than any shout.

Mikasa opened her mouth to speak, but Levi didn't let her. "No, don't. You don't get to explain right now," he snapped, taking a step closer. "Do you have any idea what you've done? What you've risked?"

She flinched, but his words kept coming, each one hitting like a blow. "You exposed yourself," he continued. "You put yourself and Farlan in danger. And for what? So you could feel useful? So you could follow some shady lead without thinking about the consequences?"

Mikasa's lips parted again, but the fury in his gray eyes silenced her. "You don't even realize what you've done," he said. "Do you know how many people heard what Colette and Kenny said? Everyone here knows now. You've painted a target on your back."

Farlan, standing a few paces away, hesitated before stepping forward. "Levi, it wasn't—"

"Stay out of it," Levi cut him off, his glare slicing through the space between them. Farlan froze, his hands raised slightly in surrender, and took a cautious step back.

Levi turned his attention back to Mikasa, his frustration boiling over. "You're reckless, Mikasa. Reckless, and you don't think about the bigger picture. You just react. And now, because of that, you've made things worse. Do you know how close you came to dying today?"

Her hands clenched into fists at her sides, her own anger bubbling under the surface, but she didn't interrupt. Levi's chest rose and fell sharply, his control barely holding as his emotions warred within him.

"This isn't just about you," he said, his voice softer but no less intense. "It's about what happens next. It's about what you've set in motion."

For a moment, the only sound was the faint drip of blood from Colette's lifeless body onto the stone floor. Mikasa's gaze dropped. She wanted to explain, to defend herself, but the weight of his words—and the truth in them—held her back.

Levi exhaled sharply, raking a hand through his disheveled hair. "You need to listen to orders, Ackerman."

She looked up at the use of her surname. The anger in his eyes was tempered now, but it didn't disappear. It simmered beneath the surface, waiting.

The sound of hurried footsteps echoed through the tense silence. All heads turned as Jace emerged from the shadows. He froze mid-step, taking in the shattered crates, lifeless bodies, and the trio of Levi, Mikasa, and Farlan standing amidst the aftermath.

"Well, this is... cozy," Jace said, his tone attempting levity but betraying his unease. He glanced at Levi. "You were taking forever, so I figured I'd—"

Before Jace could finish, Drystan stepped forward, and his followers moved behind him in solidarity. The rebellion's ragged fighters stood in a loose formation, their eyes wary but determined, their faith still clinging to their leader despite the chaos around them.

Drystan's gaze landed on Levi, his expression torn between anger and contemplation. "You've caused enough damage," he said. "You think killing Kenny changes anything?"

Levi straightened, his blade still in hand but lowered. "Kenny didn't care about your rebellion. You saw it yourself," he said coldly. "He used you, just like whoever's pulling the strings above him. If you keep going down this path, you'll lose everything."

"And what's the alternative? Sit back and keep choking on your dirt while the surface forgets we exist?"

"I'm not asking you to sit back," Levi countered, stepping closer. "I'm asking you to think. You're being played, Drystan. Your rebellion—your people—it's a pawn in someone else's game. You keep this up, and you'll end up with nothing but corpses and rubble."

The crowd murmured behind Drystan, doubt flickering in their eyes. Drystan glanced at his people, then back at Levi, his resolve wavering. "You expect me to believe the surface will suddenly start caring about us? That the Survey Corps—your Corps—will do anything for us?"

Levi's expression didn't change, but his tone softened just enough to sound sincere. "You want proof? I'll get you proof. But this needs to stop. Now."

Drystan hesitated, the weight of his decision clear in his furrowed brow and clenched fists. After a moment, he exhaled sharply, nodding. "Fine. I'll pause the rebellion. But don't think for a second that this means I trust you. If you want us to stand down, you'll bring us real solutions. Not empty promises."

Levi nodded once, firmly. "Fair enough. I'll bring something real. I'll be back to discuss this with you."

Drystan's men exchanged uncertain glances, their loyalty to their leader holding them back from questioning his decision. Drystan stepped back.

Jace, who had been standing awkwardly to the side, finally spoke. "So, uh, does this mean we're not killing each other anymore? Because I'd really like to get out of here in one piece."

"Shut up, Jace."

Jace raised his hands in mock surrender but then noticed Mikasa, standing with her face pale and a hand pressed against her wounded shoulder. "Wait a second... She's hurt," Jace said, his voice dropping the usual humor. "What the hell happened? That looks bad."

"I need stuff for stitches," Levi said curtly, his focus shifting back to Jace.

Jace frowned. "I can get some basic stuff. Nothing great, though."

Levi nodded, already motioning for Mikasa and Farlan to follow, but before they could leave, Drystan stepped forward, blocking their path.

"Wait," Drystan said. "I've got supplies. We have a medic here who can patch her up properly."

At the mention of her name, murmurs rippled through the remaining rebellion members. The whispers started low but grew louder as they passed through the crowd.

"The Executioner," one muttered, venom dripping from the word.

"Ackerman and Oriental?" another said, disbelief in their tone.

"I don't care what she is," someone else muttered. "She's still the one who broke my brother's arm years ago."

The low hum of resentment swirled, and then came a voice louder than the others, dripping with sleaze. "That pretty face of hers would fetch a nice price down here."

Levi's entire body went rigid, his head snapping toward the direction of the voice. The man, a scruffy-looking rebel with a smug grin, was leaning casually against a wall as though he hadn't just signed his death warrant.

Levi moved faster than anyone could react, his blade at the man's throat in an instant. The crowd fell silent, the tension in the air thick enough to cut.

"You're lucky you're still breathing," Levi growled, his voice deadly. "If anyone so much as thinks about touching her, they won't live long enough to regret it."

The man froze, his smirk vanishing as Levi's steely gaze bore into him. Around them, no one dared move or speak, the weight of Levi's threat hanging heavily in the room.

Drystan, watching from a few feet away, raised a hand to signal his men to back off. "Enough," he said. He turned to Levi. "The supplies are yours, but if you're not staying for treatment, take them and go."

Levi lowered his blade but didn't step back, his glare still locked on the man who had spoken. After a tense moment, he turned. "We'll take the supplies, but we're leaving."

Drystan gestured to one of his men, who quickly retrieved a small pack containing medical supplies and handed it to Levi. "This should be enough for a field dressing," Drystan said.

Levi snatched the pack without a word, his eyes still sweeping over the gathered rebels as if daring any of them to try something. Then he turned to Mikasa and Farlan. "Let's move," handing the pack to Farlan.

The trio left the hideout in silence, Levi storming ahead like a thundercloud ready to strike. His every step radiated tension, while Mikasa, Farlan, and Jace trailed behind, their boots crunching softly against the damp ground of the tunnel.

Farlan, ever the opportunist for banter, cast a sideways glance at Mikasa, who looked as if she could bite someone's head off.

"So, uh... you gonna kill me too, or is today my lucky day?" Farlan quipped, his grin half-nervous, half-teasing as he glanced at Mikasa.

Mikasa didn't flinch. Her eyes stayed fixed forward, her face stony.

"Cool. Cool. No talking," Farlan muttered, throwing his hands up in mock surrender. "Got it."

He shifted his attention to Levi, who was still fuming in the lead. "Uh, Captain Sunshine? Care to share where exactly we're going?"

Levi didn't answer. He didn't even turn his head.

"Right. That's classified information now," Farlan said, nodding to himself. "Totally understandable. We're on a need-to-know basis."

Beside him, Jace grinned nervously, sneaking a glance at Mikasa.

Jace cleared his throat, his face already pink as he sidled closer to her. "So... uh... you're the Executioner, huh? Gotta say, didn't picture you being, uh... you know... this intimidating."

Mikasa didn't even glance at him.

Undeterred, Jace tried again, his voice stumbling awkwardly. "I mean, not that intimidating's bad! It's, uh... kind of impressive, actually. Like... deadly but cool? In a good way?"

Farlan coughed, struggling to hold back laughter, while Mikasa's silence only grew colder.

Jace, his blush deepening, pressed on. "Right, okay, maybe I'm not explaining it well. What I mean is—"

"Shut up, Jace," Mikasa muttered finally, her tone like ice.

Jace blinked, but the grin creeping across his face betrayed that he wasn't taking the hint. "Got it. Less talking. Totally. So... where'd you learn to fight like that? It's kinda—"

"Jace," Levi's voice cut through the air, dripping with irritation. "Get your head out of your ass before I make you carry it in your hands."

Farlan burst out laughing, clapping Jace on the shoulder. "And there it is. That's what you get, buddy."

Jace groaned, his face a fiery red as he mumbled, "I was just trying to make conversation..."

Mikasa's glare darted toward him, and he immediately held up his hands in surrender. "Right! No more talking. No talking at all. Got it!"

Farlan leaned toward him with a smirk. "Welcome to the 'Don't Talk to Mikasa' club. Membership includes humiliation and death glares."

Jace shot him a look but wisely kept his mouth shut, trailing behind Levi with his face still burning.

Sometime later, Jace was having his existential crisis again. Finally, unable to contain himself, he whispered to Farlan, "Okay, but seriously, how the hell did you two end up with her? Like, she's—"

"Careful," Farlan cut in with a warning smirk. "She's got ears like a hawk and a temper to match."

Jace, however, seemed committed to digging his own grave. "I mean, she's the Executioner. That's badass and all, but also terrifying. You heard the stories, right?"

Farlan sighed. "Jace—"

"No, no, I need to know!" Jace pressed, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Is it true she cut a guy's—"

"Don't," Farlan warned again, his smirk widening as if he couldn't help enjoying Jace's impending doom.

"—dick off?" Jace finished, wincing as the words left his mouth. "I mean, that's gotta be exaggerated. Right?"

Levi's steps faltered for a fraction of a second. His head didn't turn, but his shoulders tensed ever so slightly, betraying the fact that he'd heard every word. Farlan noticed and bit back a laugh.

Mikasa, on the other hand, stopped abruptly. Her glare turned toward the two men like a laser, freezing Jace mid-step. "Shut. Your. Mouths," she hissed, her voice so icy it felt like the tunnel temperature dropped.

Jace froze, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. "Uh—uh—right! No talking. Got it. Lips sealed."

Farlan rubbed the back of his neck, trying not to laugh. "Told you."

Mikasa's glare lingered for a moment longer before she turned on her heel and stalked forward, her boots striking the ground a little harder than necessary.

As they walked, Jace leaned closer to Farlan, his voice dropping to a barely audible whisper. "Still terrifying. Even scarier in person."

"Yeah, she does that," Farlan replied, grinning. "You'll get used to it. Or maybe not."

Jace tilted his head. "You think Captain Doom-and-Gloom heard that?"

Levi, still walking ahead, didn't break stride, but his voice cut through. "Keep talking, Jace. You're about five seconds away from regretting your life choices."

Jace froze mid-step, visibly paling. "Noted."

Farlan, biting back a laugh, clapped him on the shoulder. "Welcome to the squad, buddy. Hope you've got a will written up."

Jace's eyes darted nervously between Mikasa, who hadn't even spared him a glance, and Levi's steadily retreating back. "This is a very hostile work environment."

"Should've read the job description," Farlan said with a grin.

"Does it come with hazard pay?"

Farlan snorted. "Oh, it comes with hazards, alright."

Ahead of them, Levi's shoulders twitched ever so slightly, and Jace flinched like he'd just been shot.

"I'll shut up now," Jace squeaked, walking faster to put distance between himself and the inevitable consequences of his big mouth.

Levi led the group through the dimly lit streets before stopping in front of a small, decrepit building wedged between two larger, equally run-down structures. Liam's place was closer than Jace's. He crouched slightly, knocking on the weathered wooden door with a practiced rhythm. The faint sound of shuffling came from inside before a cautious voice called out.

"W-Who is it?"

"It's me," Levi replied.

The sound of a latch being undone followed, and the door creaked open just enough for a small face to peek out. When Liam recognized Levi, his cautious expression melted into wide-eyed surprise and excitement. "It's really you!" he said, throwing the door open completely. Then his gaze shifted to the group behind Levi, and his enthusiasm faltered into wary hesitation.

"We need a place to stay for a bit," Levi said matter-of-factly. "Can we come in?"

Liam's eyes darted nervously between the four of them, lingering especially on Mikasa, who was standing just behind Levi. He swallowed hard, then nodded, stepping aside to let them in. "Y-Yeah, sure," he stammered.

The group filed into the cramped hideout, Mikasa offering a soft smile, "Thank you." Liam, who had been staring at her with his mouth slightly agape, nearly tripped over his own feet. "N-No problem," he mumbled, his face flushing red.

In the corner, the other two kids—the girl and her younger brother, Ben—watched with wide, intimidated eyes. The girl clutched Ben protectively, her small fingers gripping his arm as her gaze flicked nervously between Mikasa and Levi.

Farlan glanced around, taking in the small, dimly lit room. It was sparse, with a makeshift table and mismatched chairs in one corner and a pile of threadbare blankets serving as a bed in another. "Cozy."

Jace leaned in, whispering to Farlan, "Kid looks like he just saw a goddess walk in."

Farlan smirked, muttering back, "Honestly? Can't blame him."

Mikasa ignored their whispers, her focus shifting to the girl and boy. She offered them a faint smile, trying to soften her presence, but the children just huddled closer together, their expressions wary.

Levi, meanwhile, gave Liam a pointed look. "We won't be long. I just need a place to sort things out."

Liam nodded quickly, his voice barely above a whisper. "Anything you need, sir."

"Good," Levi said, stepping aside to let the others settle in. His gaze swept over the room once more, lingering briefly on the trembling girl and boy in the corner. "You've done alright for yourself."

Liam straightened slightly at the hint of acknowledgment, his pride battling with the nervous energy radiating off him. His gaze kept darting back to Mikasa, his face flushing deeper every time she so much as glanced his way.

Mikasa finally turned her attention back to Liam. "Thank you for letting us in," she said again.

Liam's jaw worked uselessly for a moment before he managed to squeak out, "Y-You're welcome." He fidgeted with the hem of his shirt, glancing quickly at Levi for reassurance.

"Relax, kid," Levi muttered. "She doesn't bite."

Jace snorted quietly. "Unless you cross her, that is," he whispered conspiratorially to Liam, who looked like he was ready to pass out on the spot.

Levi grabbed the pack from Farlan and dropped it onto the rickety table, the chair scraping noisily against the floor as he pulled it out. His expression was a mix of irritation and exhaustion as he turned to Mikasa. "Sit."

Mikasa bristled, her anger flaring up again. "I can do it myself."

"Sit. Now."

Her defiance burning in her gaze. She crossed her arms, ready to argue, but her eyes flicked to the corner where the two younger kids were huddled. Their wide, frightened eyes darted nervously between her and Levi, visibly recoiling at his tone. Mikasa exhaled sharply, her lips pressing into a thin line. She didn't want to make things worse for them.

With a frustrated huff, she plopped into the chair, crossing her legs and leaning back with exaggerated defiance. "Happy?"

Levi didn't dignify that with a response. Instead, he turned to Farlan and Jace, jerking his chin toward the door. "Get out."

Jace blinked. "Why? What did I do?" he asked, genuinely clueless.

"Out."

Jace opened his mouth to protest again, but Farlan, who had picked up on Levi's intent, grabbed him by the arm. "Let's go, genius."

"But—" Jace began, only to be silenced by the glower Levi shot his way. "Alright, alright, I'm going."

As the door creaked shut behind them, silence settled in the room, broken only by the muffled shuffle of the younger kids shifting in their corner. Levi pulled a stool closer to Mikasa. "Take off your jacket," he said, reaching into the pack for the supplies.

Mikasa glared at him for a moment, then with a huff she shrugged out of her jacket and dropped it onto the chair next to her. Her fingers hesitated at the buttons of her shirt, her movements slowing when she caught Liam staring.

The boy's face was practically glowing red as he let out a startled squeak and spun around, nearly tripping over himself. "I'll get out too"

Mikasa's lips twitched in a smirk, continuing to unbutton her shirt. The girl and her little brother remained in their corner, their gazes averted out of a mixture of politeness and fear.

Levi barely glanced at Liam's retreat, his focus already shifting to the task at hand. "Hurry up," he muttered, pulling out a needle and thread.

Glaring at him, she shrugged her shirt off one shoulder, exposing the grazed and bloodied wound.

As Levi threaded the needle, Mikasa braced herself, her fingers gripping the edge of the chair tightly. The first touch of the needle against her skin made her flinch, and she let out a quiet hiss through her teeth.

"Stay still," Levi muttered, his movements were careful.

"I am," she shot back, her voice low but irritated. Despite her best efforts, her body tensed each time the needle pierced her skin, the sharp stabs of pain making her wince involuntarily. Levi didn't comment, as he worked quickly to close the wound.

Her eyes wandered to the corner of the room where the two younger kids sat huddled together. The girl's arm was draped protectively over her younger brother's shoulders, whispering something softly to comfort him.

The sight tugged at something deep within Mikasa, and her gaze softened. For a moment, the dingy room around her blurred, replaced by her memories.

She saw herself, Eren, and Armin as children, huddled together in a dimly lit corner of a similar rundown space in the Underground. Eren's fiery determination always masking the fear they all felt, Armin's quiet reassurances and brilliant ideas.

She wondered if these kids had any chance of escaping the life they were trapped in, or if they would grow up hardened and angry like so many others here.

As Levi finished stitching her shoulder, Mikasa gritted her teeth against the pain. He didn't say anything, his movements efficient and precise, but she could feel the tension radiating off him. Once he was done, she muttered a quiet "thanks" and buttoned her shirt, pulling her jacket back on with a slight wince. The stitches pulled uncomfortably, but she ignored it.

Levi didn't comment. He gestured for Jace, Farlan, and Liam to come back in. "Get in here. We need to talk."

The three entered cautiously, Jace still looking a little nervous. "We good now?" he asked, glancing between Levi and Mikasa. When neither responded, he scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. "Right. Just gonna stand over here."

Levi ignored the comment, catching Farlan and him up on what had transpired in the hideout. His tone was clipped, all business, as he laid out the next steps and the situation they were now in.

Mikasa, still bristling from Levi's earlier scolding and her own simmering frustration, tuned them out. Her gaze drifted to the two younger kids sitting quietly in the corner. Mikasa took a breath, pushing aside her own anger, and walked over to them.

The girl stiffened slightly as Mikasa approached, her protective instincts kicking in. Mikasa crouched down to their level, softening her expression. "Hey," she said gently. "What's your name?"

The girl hesitated before answering. "Mari."

"And him?"

"He's Ben..."

"Hi, Ben," Mikasa said, offering a small smile. The boy peeked out from behind Mari, his wide eyes curious but cautious. "How long have you been here?"

"A while," Mari said hesitantly. "We... we stay here with Liam. He helps us."

Mikasa glanced around the room, taking in the worn blankets and meager supplies. The sight tugged at something deep in her chest.

Her gaze landed on a small, cracked bowl sitting in the corner. She reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out a small piece of waxed cloth she'd been carrying. She unfolded it to reveal a chunk of hard soap she'd kept for emergencies. "Here," she said, holding it out to Mari. "You can use this to clean that bowl and anything else you need. It lasts a while if you don't waste it."

Mari's eyes widened as she took the soap, her fingers curling around it like it was a treasure. "Thank you," she whispered.

"It's not much, but it helps."

She shifted her attention to Ben, who was staring intently at her wrist. Her bracelet—the one Levi had given her—had slipped out from under her sleeve when she'd taken her jacket off and now hung loosely, the small silver bird charm catching the light. She followed his gaze and then brought her hand closer to him.

"Do you like it?" she asked gently.

Ben's small face lit up with curiosity. "It's shiny," he said, his voice small but filled with awe.

"You can look at it," Mikasa said, holding her wrist out. Ben hesitated, glancing at Mari for approval, and when she nodded, he reached out tentatively. His tiny fingers brushed the charm, turning it over carefully as if it might break.

"It's pretty," he murmured.

Mikasa's smile softened as she watched him. "It was a gift," she said quietly, her gaze drifting briefly to Levi. "You can play with it for a bit if you'd like."

Ben looked up at her, his face lighting up with excitement. "Really?"

"Really," she said.

As Ben carefully examined the bracelet, Mikasa glanced at Mari again. "You're doing a good job looking after him," she said quietly. "It's not easy down here."

Mari's expression shifted, a flicker of pride breaking through her guarded demeanor. "We just... do what we can."

Mikasa nodded. "I know the feeling."

Mikasa's gaze drifted toward Levi, her expression softening as memories of their quiet moment in the town came flooding back—when he'd given her the bracelet.

Mari, watching her closely, tilted her head and then pointed toward Levi. "Is he your husband?"

Mikasa's eyes widened, her composure momentarily shattered as heat rushed to her cheeks. "W-What?" she stammered, completely caught off guard.

Mari gasped, bringing her small hands to her mouth. "He is, isn't he? He's handsome." she whispered.

Still blushing furiously, Mikasa quickly regained her composure, forcing a small, playful smile. She glanced toward Levi, who was still engaged in his conversation, seemingly unaware—or perhaps deliberately ignoring—their exchange.

Mikasa leaned toward Mari slightly and raised a finger to her lips. "Shh," she whispered conspiratorially.

Mari's eyes grew even wider, and she nodded vigorously, her grin almost splitting her face. "Okay," she whispered back, giggling as if she'd just uncovered a monumental secret.

Levi's ears didn't miss the soft snickering. He glanced over, catching the faint blush still lingering on Mikasa's cheeks and the way Mari was giggling into her hands. His lips twitched, but he said nothing.

Just then, Liam stepped up beside Mikasa, clearly trying to muster up his courage. He cleared his throat loudly, puffing out his chest a bit. "Hi! I'm Liam," he blurted out.

Mikasa looked down at him, her expression softening again. "Hi, Liam," she said gently. "I'm Mikasa."

Liam blinked, trying to process how to keep the conversation going. "Uh—cool name," he managed, his face turning a bit red as he scratched the back of his head.

Mikasa chuckled. "Thanks."

Ben, still playing with her bracelet, looked up and chimed in. "Liam's cool! He helps us."

Mikasa ruffled Ben's hair lightly. "I can tell. You're lucky to have him."

Liam straightened up a bit at that, his chest puffing out again with pride. "Yeah, well, I try," he said.

Farlan, catching the interaction, muttered to Jace, "Poor kid doesn't stand a chance."

Jace smirked, leaning closer. "What are the odds he's trying to impress her?"

"Every single one."

Levi, still watching out of the corner of his eye, sighed quietly but let it pass.

As the group stepped out of Liam's hideout, the cold air of the Underground greeted them again. Levi scanned their surroundings before turning to Farlan and Mikasa.

"You're going back to HQ," Levi ordered curtly, his tone leaving no room for argument.

"What?" Mikasa looked up.

"You heard me," Levi said, his gaze shifting to Farlan. "Both of you. I'll stay and finish negotiations with Drystan."

"No," Mikasa said firmly, stepping closer to him. "I'm coming with you."

Levi's patience visibly thinning. "Absolutely not."

Her rage bubbled up, her hormones amplifying the emotions that had been simmering all day. She stepped closer, her glare like daggers. "You're going to leave me out of this after everything that's happened? After what we've been through today?"

His gaze bore into hers, but behind his cold demeanor, there was a flicker of concern, worry. "You've already caused enough chaos down here. You're going back."

Her anger flared even hotter at his words, and she jabbed a finger toward him. "You think I'm just going to sit back while you go off again? No. I can handle this."

Levi stepped closer, his voice dropping to a dangerous level. "Do you have any idea what kind of attention you've drawn to yourself? Those men looked at you like you were prey. They heard you're an Ackerman. They know you're Oriental. You've made yourself a target."

"I don't care," Mikasa spat, her defiance unwavering.

"And I'm not giving you a choice," Levi shot back. "The last thing I need is for you to be anywhere near them again."

Jace, sensing the tension building to a boiling point, hesitated before stepping in. "Maybe—"

"Stay out of it," Levi said sharply, not even sparing him a glance.

Jace sighed, stepping back. "Right. I'll just... let you two hash this out."

Mikasa glared at Levi, her rage battling against the part of her that understood his reasoning. "You can't order me around like this."

Levi's gaze didn't waver. "I can, and I will."

They stood there, the tension crackling like a live wire between them, until Farlan broke the silence.

"You know," he began with a half-hearted chuckle, "this really takes me back. Remember when we first recruited you, Mikasa? You and Levi were glaring at each other just like this—"

Two pairs of piercing glares turned on him simultaneously, cutting his sentence short. The combined weight of their icy stares made him falter.

"Right, bad timing. I'll just... keep quiet."

Mikasa's voice trembling with barely restrained fury. "I am not—"

Levi's voice dropped into the cold, commanding tone he reserved for his squad. "Enough, Ackerman. This isn't up for debate."

The use of her last name stung, and Mikasa's fiery gaze locked onto his. For a moment, it seemed like she might lunge at him instead of leaving.

Her next words came out venomous. "Understood, Captain." The title was spat like an insult as she turned on her heel.

Farlan scrambled after her, shooting Levi a wide-eyed look as if to say, What the hell was that? He caught up with Mikasa just as she stormed ahead.

Jace hesitated, his gaze flicking between Levi and the retreating pair. "So, uh... should I—"

"Go," Levi snapped.

Jace swallowed hard and hurried to catch up.

"Stubborn as hell," he muttered under his breath and made his way towards Drystan.

Levi entered the hideout, the once-chaotic space now eerily quiet after the earlier battles. The remnants of the Black Talons had either retreated or been eliminated, leaving Drystan and his closest followers to pick up the pieces. Drystan sat at a crude wooden table in the center of the room, his expression a mix of exhaustion and guarded curiosity as Levi approached.

Without a word, Levi pulled out a chair and sat down opposite him, scanning the room. "Talk," Levi said flatly.

Drystan exhaled, running a hand through his disheveled hair. "Food. Water. Clothing. Medical supplies. Those are our most immediate problems. Every time we scrape together enough to survive, something or someone takes it from us. The monarchy doesn't care, and the MPs—" He broke off. "They see us as trash."

Levi's gaze didn't waver. "I'm not going to promise you citizenship on the surface. That's not within my power."

Drystan remained silent, waiting for Levi to continue.

"What I can promise," Levi said, his tone firm, "is aid. Erwin will negotiate with the monarchy and MPs to put together something for the Underground. Food, water, medical supplies—enough to stabilize things. But it won't happen overnight."

Drystan leaned back in his chair, as he considered Levi's words. "And what's the catch? You don't do anything for free."

"The catch is you promise not to do this rebellion nonsense again. You saw it yourself—Kenny didn't give a damn about your people. He was using you. If you try this again, all you'll do is bleed yourselves dry for a cause that isn't even yours."

Drystan's lips pressed into a thin line, but he gave a reluctant nod. "Fine. We'll hold off."

Levi leaned forward. "And what about the weapons? The supplies? Did Kenny ever tell you where he got them?"

Drystan hesitated, glancing at the men lingering nearby as if weighing his words carefully. "He said it was a friend of his. Someone who'd had enough of the Survey Corps and claimed to sympathize with us down here."

Levi's eyes narrowed. "Did he mention a name?"

"No," Drystan admitted. "But the way he talked about it, it was like this person had money—connections."

Levi's gaze swept the room, his eyes landing on a stack of crates in the corner. Rising from his seat, he moved toward them, his boots crunching softly against the dirt floor. He crouched down and examined one of the crates, his fingers brushing over a faint emblem burned into the wood. He recognized it—the mark of the Military Police.

He stood slowly, turning back to Drystan. "These weapons—they're Military Police issue. High-grade stuff. This isn't something they'd just lose or let slip through their fingers. Someone in the MPs is behind this."

Drystan's eyes widened slightly. "You're sure?"

"Positive."

Drystan cursed under his breath, his hands balling into fists on the table. "Why would the MPs help us? They've always treated us like rats."

"They're not helping you. They're using you. Whoever this 'friend' is, they're playing you and your rebellion to serve their own agenda. And I'm going to find out who."

Levi was halfway to the exit when the low murmur of voices caught his attention. Two men from the rebellion were leaning against a wall near the stairs, their conversation carrying in the quiet.

"Idiots," one of them muttered, shaking his head. "Three brats sneakin' into the Underground like they own the place."

The other chuckled, a sneer on his face. "Loud little bastards too. The Talons scooped 'em up fast."

Levi froze mid-step. His eyes narrowed, his senses prickling. Three brats... loud and rowdy? His mind immediately went to three of his recruits specifically. The pit in his stomach deepened as the first man spoke again.

"Two boys and a girl. All mouth, no brains."

The second man laughed. "Bet the Talons'll shut 'em up quick."

Levi turned sharply on his heel, as he strode toward the men. They noticed him immediately, their laughter dying in their throats. His earlier fights, threats—and his ruthless takedown of Kenny Ackerman—had left an impression. Their postures stiffened, their gazes dropping under the weight of his piercing glare.

"Those brats you're talking about," Levi said. "Describe them."

The first man hesitated, glancing nervously at his companion. "Uh... one of the boys—dark-haired, loud, had a mouth on him. The other was smaller, blond, looked like he'd rather be anywhere else. And the girl..." He swallowed hard, his voice faltering under Levi's icy stare. "Red hair. Fiery type. Couldn't stop talkin' even when they were caught."

Levi was sure. There was no mistaking it now—Eren, Armin, and Isabel. His heart hammered in his chest, but his expression remained calm, cold as steel.

"Where are they?" Levi demanded.

The second man stepped back instinctively, stammering, "I-I don't know. But if the Talons got 'em, they're probably in the lower-level cells."

Levi's eyes narrowed further, the deadly edge in his gaze making the men shift uncomfortably. "Which way?"

The first man raised a shaky hand, pointing toward a dark corridor that spiraled deeper into the Underground. "That way. Leads down to the lower levels."

Without another word, Levi turned and headed in the direction they indicated, his steps quick and silent. The men exchanged nervous glances but didn't dare say anything more, the ghost of his earlier wrath still lingering in the air.

As he descended the spiraling corridor, his mind was racing. What the hell were those idiots thinking?

Meanwhile, Mikasa and Farlan made their way through the tunnels as they were on their way back to HQ. They walked in silence.

Farlan had been trying to fill the void with idle chatter, but Mikasa's senses and anger from earlier kept her on edge. Her instincts prickled as a stumbling drunkard approached, laughing obnoxiously to himself. The slurred words tumbling from his mouth caught her attention.

"Three loud little brats... black-haired boy, red-haired firecracker, and some tiny blond genius. Hah! Dumb enough to get caught by the Talons," the man chuckled, swaying on his feet as he staggered past them.

Mikasa stopped abruptly, her body tense. "Wait," she called, her voice steady but commanding.

The drunkard turned, squinting at her through bloodshot eyes. "What d'you want?" he slurred, his words almost unintelligible.

She took a step closer, her tone calm. "Tell me about the three kids you mentioned. Where did you see them?"

The man laughed, a hoarse, guttural sound, waving her off with a dismissive hand. "Not my problem, bitch. Don't got time for nosy questions."

Mikasa's patience wore thin. She reached out, her grip like iron as she grabbed the front of his coat and slammed him against the damp wall. The force of the impact rattled through the tunnel, instantly sobering the man. Farlan, standing a step behind her, winced.

"I'm not asking again," Mikasa said coldly, her face inches from the drunkard's. "What did you see? Where are they?"

The man's eyes widened, the haze of drunkenness replaced by fear. He stammered, his hands trembling as he tried to pull away from her grip. "I-I saw 'em! A few levels down! The Black Talons caught 'em near the east passage. Took 'em to the cells, I swear!"

Mikasa's gaze didn't waver. "What else do you know?"

"N-nothing!" the man sputtered, his voice breaking. "Just that they were makin' a racket, shoutin' somethin' about someone named Mikasa!"

Her blood ran cold at the mention of her name, but she didn't let it show. Instead, she let the man go, and he stumbled to the ground, clutching his chest.

"Get out of here," she snapped. The man scrambled to his feet and bolted, his earlier bravado completely shattered.

"Mikasa..." Farlan began cautiously, his eyes on her rigid posture.

She turned to him, her expression set in grim determination. "It's them. Eren, Armin, and Isabel. We're not going back to HQ."

Farlan sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I figured you'd say that." He paused, glancing in the direction the drunkard had pointed. "Alright, let's go. But if Levi finds out we didn't head back..."

"We'll deal with it later," Mikasa interrupted, already moving. "They're more important."

"Ackermans... never a dull moment."

...

Levi moved through the dim, damp corridors of the lower-level cells. The faint sound of laughter and muffled voices grew louder as he approached. His eyes quickly took in the scene: three familiar figures locked in separate cells, their wrists and ankles shackled to the walls.

Eren thrashed against his chains like a wild animal, his fiery temper radiating through the small, dank room. "Just wait until I get out of here!" he roared. "You're all dead! Every last one of you!"

Isabel was just as loud, if not louder. "You think these stupid chains can hold me?!" she snapped, jerking against the metal restraints like they'd insulted her personally. "I'll rip your faces off and feed them to the rats, you bastards!"

The guards surrounding them snickered, clearly entertained. One particularly smug Talon leaned against Eren's cell. "This one's got a mouth on him. Thinks he's some kind of warrior."

Eren's eyes shooting daggers. "Come in here and say that, coward!"

"Yeah, big man," Isabel chimed in, rattling her chains with a wicked grin. "Bet you wouldn't last ten seconds in here with us."

The guards burst out laughing, one of them pointing at Isabel. "You're half the size of a kid, and you think you can take me?"

"Try me!" Isabel spat, her teeth bared like a feral cat. "I've taken down bigger idiots than you!"

Meanwhile, in stark contrast to the chaos unfolding around him, Armin sat in his cell with his head slightly bowed, his lips moving silently. He seemed to be muttering a plan under his breath, his expression one of intense concentration.

One of the guards noticed him and laughed, nudging his comrade. "What's this one doing? Praying?"

Armin's gaze snapped up. "Plotting," he said with unnerving calm.

The guard blinked. "Huh?"

"Plotting your demise," Armin clarified. "It's just a matter of time, really."

The guard took an uneasy step back, but his companion slapped him on the back. "Don't let the little brainiac scare you. He couldn't plot his way out of those chains."

Another guard sauntered over to Isabel's cell. "You've got a foul mouth for such a tiny thing," he said. "Maybe we should teach you some manners."

Isabel's lips curled into a feral grin. "Sure, come in here and try. I dare you."

Eren snorted, his glare never wavering. "You're gonna regret saying that."

The guard sneered. "Big talk from little brats."

Armin, now leaning casually against the wall of his cell, added dryly, "They've been saying that a lot. Wonder if it's part of their training manual."

The guards' laughter faltered slightly, and their bravado dimmed as a cold presence filled the air. Levi stepped into the room, his expression calm but his aura deadly.

One of the guards turned to him, frowning. "What do you want? This is Black Talon business."

Levi didn't respond. Instead, his hand moved to the hilt of his blade, and the guards' smug smiles evaporated. The room grew silent as Eren and Isabel stopped thrashing.

Isabel's face lit up with relief as she spotted him. "Big bro!" she shouted. "About damn time!"

Eren grinned. "Took you long enough!"

Armin exhaled a quiet sigh of relief. "Captain Levi."

The guards, however, were less thrilled. "Who the hell do you think you are?" one of them barked, trying to mask his unease.

Levi's blade flashed in the dim light, and the guard's question was answered before he even realized it as the blade slashed across his throat in one fluid motion. The guard crumpled to the ground, and chaos erupted.

The remaining Talons drew their weapons, but they were no match for Levi's speed and precision. He darted between them like a shadow, his blade a blur of silver in the dim light. One by one, they fell. Two dropped unconscious from precise strikes to the head, while three others were left clutching deep wounds, groaning in pain as Levi drew his blade through them.

The last two hesitated, their bravado faltering as they realized who they were up against. One of them raised his blade, but Levi's cold eyes stopped him in his tracks.

"I wouldn't," Levi said flatly. The guard's hand trembled, and he dropped his weapon, backing away before collapsing to the floor in a faint.

The other turned to run, but Levi's boot caught his knee, sending him sprawling. With one final strike, Levi rendered him unconscious, leaving the room eerily silent except for the sudden sound of clapping...

Eren, chained but grinning ear to ear, started the applause. "Hell yeah, Captain!" he cheered. "Show those bastards who's boss! They wouldn't shut up."

Isabel joined in with her enthusiasm. "Big bro, that was amazing! I mean, did you see that guy's face when he fainted? Priceless!"

Eren nodded vigorously. "And the way you dodged that dagger? Badass! You would make a hell of a Titan."

Armin, however, didn't clap. Instead, he gave Levi a long, measured look, his expression shifting from cautious relief to dawning horror. "You two should probably stop now," his gaze darting between his two overexcited friends and Levi, who was standing stock-still, his back to them.

Levi turned slowly, his eyes cold. The intensity of his silence was enough to make Isabel and Eren's clapping falter, their hands awkwardly freezing mid-motion.

"Oh no," Isabel muttered, her grin fading as she met Levi's icy stare.

"Oh yes," Armin murmured under his breath.

Levi's gaze swept over the three of them, his expression somewhere between utter disappointment and barely restrained fury. "You think this is a joke?"

Eren, trying to salvage the moment, chuckled nervously. "Uh... no? I mean... you did great, though. Really... great..."

Isabel offered a weak smile. "We were just... appreciating the rescue! That's all."

Levi stepped closer to the cells, his slow movements making them all shrink even more back to the walls. "You three," he said with cold disdain, "are lucky you're still breathing."

Armin exhaled a shaky breath. "We're sorry, Captain."

Levi was mid-sentence, his scolding cutting into them. "You three better start explaining what kind of idiocy possessed you to sneak into the Underground, or—"

The sound of hurried footsteps echoed through the tunnels, and Levi's gaze darted toward the entrance.

Mikasa and Farlan came rushing in, Mikasa leading the way. Her breathing was uneven, and her expression wavered between horror and frustration as her eyes locked onto the sight of Eren, Armin, and Isabel chained and locked in the cells. "What's going on here?"

The tension in the room shifted instantly. Levi's scolding of the three captives was cut short, and he turned to face Mikasa and Farlan.

"What are you two doing here? Let me guess. You ignored my orders. Again." His tone was full of accusation.

Mikasa's steps faltered slightly, but her resolve held firm. "We heard something."

"You heard what?"

She stepped forward, her breathing still heavy from the rush. "We heard rumors that three kids had been captured by the Talons. The descriptions matched." She said. "We couldn't just leave them."

Levi studied her for a moment, his eyes flicking between her and Farlan.

Eren, who had begun thrashing against his chains again, couldn't help but chime in. "Yeah, we're fine, by the way! Thanks for asking!"

"Shut it, Eren," Mikasa snapped, her anger spilling onto him for a moment.

Isabel, watching from her cell. "This is kind of like a family reunion, huh?"

"Keep talking, Isabel," Levi said without looking at her. "See what happens when you're out of those chains."

Isabel immediately quieted, but clearly amused by the unfolding drama, "I think we're about to witness World War Levi."

Armin sighed. "We're already in it."

Levi silenced their whispers with a single glare before looking back at Mikasa. "This isn't over," he said coldly. "Right now, get these idiots out before anyone else shows up."

Farlan let out a small sigh of relief. "Thank the walls. This went better than I thought. No one's dead. Yet."

Mikasa hesitated for a brief moment before nodding, though the tension between her and Levi was palpable. She moved to assist, as Levi yanked the keys off one of the unconscious guards and moved toward the first cell.

Farlan, tried to lighten the mood with a chuckle. "This really brings back memories, huh? Just like when we first recruited—"

Both Levi and Mikasa turned their glares on him simultaneously, shutting him up mid-sentence. He raised his hands in mock surrender. "Okay, okay. No nostalgia trip. Got it."

As Eren, Armin, and Isabel were freed one by one, they rubbed at their sore wrists and ankles, their expressions shifting from relief to immediate regret as they realized what was about to happen.

Isabel was the first to test the waters. "Big bro, we were just—"

She was the first victim. "Don't. Speak."

Eren, rubbing at the raw skin on his wrists, opened his mouth to say something, but Mikasa was already moving. She stepped forward, her anger momentarily giving way to concern as she inspected each of them individually.

First, she knelt in front of Armin, her hands reaching out to touch his face gently. "Are you hurt?" she asked, her tone softer than expected.

Armin shook his head quickly, his cheeks reddening slightly. "No, I'm fine," he murmured, though he avoided her piercing gaze.

Mikasa's eyes lingered on him for a moment longer before she turned to Isabel. The redhead tried to put on a brave face, but Mikasa caught the faint tremble in her hands. "What about you?"

Isabel shrugged, her usual bravado slipping just a little. "I'm fine," though she winced as Mikasa grabbed her wrist to inspect a forming bruise.

She said nothing, moving on to Eren.

Eren met her gaze with a defiant glare, but it faltered as she stepped closer. "I'm fine," he said stubbornly, crossing his arms.

"Show me," Mikasa demanded, her voice leaving no room for argument.

Eren huffed but reluctantly uncrossed his arms, revealing a small cut along his forearm. She reached out to inspect it.

"It's nothing," Eren muttered, trying to pull away.

Satisfied that none of them were seriously injured, Mikasa straightened, her gaze sweeping over all three of them. Her hands rested on her hips as she took a deep breath.

"You three—" She stopped herself, closing her eyes briefly to steady her rising temper. Then, with a deep inhale, she exploded.

"ARE YOU COMPLETELY OUT OF YOUR MINDS?!"

Eren flinched, actually flinched, as Mikasa's voice echoed through the room. Armin looked like he wanted to melt into the floor, and Isabel tried her best to muster her usual bravado, only to shrink back under Mikasa's fury.

"First of all," Mikasa started, her finger jabbing toward each of them in turn, "what were you thinking sneaking into the Underground without a plan? Did you even consider for a second how dangerous this was? No, of course you didn't, because you were too busy being idiots!"

Isabel, braver than the other two, opened her mouth to respond, but Mikasa turned her glare on her. "Don't even try, Isabel. I don't care what you have to say right now."

Eren crossed his arms, trying to look defiant. "And you!" she snapped. "What were you planning to do, Eren? Yell at them until they let you go? Because clearly, that worked great!"

Eren's arms dropped. "I—"

"No!" Mikasa interrupted. "No excuses! None of you are allowed to speak until I finish. Do you even realize how close you came to being killed? Or worse?" Her voice softened slightly, but her anger didn't fade. "Do you think we could live with that?"

The three of them exchanged guilty glances, clearly cowed.

"And Armin," Mikasa continued. "You're supposed to be the smart one! Where was that brain of yours when you agreed to this?!"

Armin looked like he wanted to cry, "I-I was outvoted..."

"That's no excuse!" Mikasa's finger jabbing toward the exit. "Get it through your thick skulls—this isn't a game! You don't get to risk your lives because of some half-baked plan to 'help.'"

Levi crossed his arms and leaned against the wall, slightly amused as Mikasa tore into them.

"And another thing," Mikasa continued, her momentum unstoppable. "Do you know how much trouble you've caused for everyone here? I don't care if you're bored or reckless or just plain stupid. If I ever catch you pulling something like this again, you will regret it."

Isabel, Eren, and Armin were now fully cowed, their heads hanging low.

When there was a brief pause in her yelling for her to take a breath, Levi chimed in coldly, "You done?"

Mikasa whirled on him, her fiery glare now directed at him. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Levi pushed off the wall. It was her turn. "It means you've got a lot to say to them when you pulled the same crap."

"What?"

"You heard me," Levi said. "Charging into the Underground, ignoring orders, and putting yourself and Farlan in danger. Sound familiar?"

Mikasa's glare intensified, and she took a step toward him. "That was different."

The trio exchanged wide-eyed glances, their heads swiveling back and forth like they were watching a tennis match. Isabel leaned closer to Eren, whispering, "Is it just me, or does this sound like Mom and Dad fighting?"

Eren groaned under his breath. "Please don't say that."

Levi raised an eyebrow, his gaze unyielding. "Different how? You ignored orders, put yourself at risk, and made yourself a target. Congratulations, you're no better than these brats."

Her rage simmered. "I didn't have a choice," she hissed through gritted teeth.

"And neither did they, apparently," Levi shot back.

Armin cleared his throat hesitantly. "Um... maybe we should—"

"Shut up," Levi and Mikasa snapped simultaneously, not even sparing him a glance.

Isabel elbowed Eren. "See? Definitely like parents."

Levi and Mikasa were still locked in a gaze. Then his tone shifted, "we'll talk later."

The weight of his words silenced her, but she nodded curtly, her respect for him keeping her from pushing back. She knew better than to let her emotions spill out here, where everyone could see.

Isabel, sensing the tension, whispered, "Yikes, Mikasa's in trouble too."

Levi finally stepped toward the three of them. "You heard her. If you think this is over, you're sorely mistaken. Now, move."

Isabel muttered to Eren and Armin, "I think I'll stick to being yelled at by big bro. Mikasa's a whole other level of scary."

They nodded solemnly. "Agreed."

The three captives scrambled to their feet, eager to escape the combined wrath of Mikasa and Levi.

Everyone's focus was on preparing to leave. Unbeknownst to them, one of the unconscious Talons stirred on the ground, his hand inching toward the pistol holstered at his side. Blood dripping from a cut on his forehead as eyes locked onto Farlan's unguarded back.

Armin caught the movement. The Talon's hand was steady as he raised the gun, his aim centered directly on Farlan.

There wasn't time to think. No time to warn anyone. Armin's eyes darted to a fallen weapon lying just within reach. His hands trembled, but instinct drove him forward. He snatched up the gun, its cold weight foreign, and without hesitation, he pulled the trigger.

The deafening crack of the shot rang out, reverberating through the cell block.

Everyone froze.

The Talon fell back, lifeless, the weapon slipping from his grip as blood pooled beneath him. Armin stood motionless, the gun still raised, his arms shaking as the reality of what he'd just done hit him all at once.

All eyes turned to Armin, standing stock-still with the gun still gripped tightly in his hands. His eyes locked on the body as his chest heaved with uneven breaths.

Farlan, wide-eyed, turned to look at the body that had been behind him. His mouth opened, but no words came out.

Levi was the first to move. He stepped forward and stopped just in front of Armin. Without a word, he reached out, carefully taking the gun from Armin. The boy didn't resist, but his fingers clung to the weapon until Levi gently pried it free.

"Breathe," Levi said quietly.

Armin sucked in a ragged breath, his body trembled uncontrollably, and before anyone could react, he doubled over, retching violently onto the floor.

Mikasa was at his side in an instant, she crouched next to him, her hand rubbing soothing circles on his back.

As Armin straightened, wiping his mouth with a shaking hand, he looked up at Mikasa with tears and sweat. "Is that... is that how you felt the first time?"

The words faltered halfway out, and he froze, realizing too late the weight of what he was asking. Guilt and regret flooding his features. "I'm sorry," he stammered quickly, his voice cracking. "I didn't mean—I didn't want to make you—"

"It's okay," Mikasa interrupted gently, her hand still steady on his back. Her voice was calm but distant, and though her eyes flickered with something, she gave him the reassurance he needed.

Farlan finally found his voice. "Armin... you just saved my life."

Eren, standing on Armin's other side, looked ready to say something but stopped himself, his fists clenching in quiet frustration at his inability to help.

Isabel wanted to say something too, but Levi's voice broke the moment. "Enough. Get up. We're moving."

****************************

The night had settled heavily over the town by the time they emerged from the Underground. Jace had arranged a carriage for their return, and it awaited them at the agreed-upon spot.

The six of them climbed into the carriage, the interior dimly lit by a single lantern swaying gently with the movement. Eren, Mikasa, and Armin settled on one side, while Levi, Farlan, and Isabel took the opposite bench. The atmosphere was thick with unspoken words.

Armin sat hunched, his gaze fixed on his hands resting in his lap. They still trembled, the phantom sensation of the gun's recoil echoing through his fingers. His mind replayed the moment over and over—the sound of the shot, the sight of the Talon collapsing, the realization of what he'd done.

The silence stretched, until Levi's voice cut through it. "Armin," he began, "if your hands were still clean, Farlan would be dead."

The bluntness of his words shattered the quiet, and all eyes turned to him in shock. Mikasa, sitting across from Levi, straightened. "Why would you say something like that?" she demanded, protectively.

Levi held up a hand, forestalling further protest, and continued speaking. "This is the reality of the world we live in. Hesitation can cost lives. Today, Armin made a choice—a difficult one—but it was necessary."

Armin flinched, his fingers curling into fists as he whispered, "But I..."

Levi's eyes pinned him in place. "You think this is the first time I've seen someone pull the trigger and lose sleep over it? You're not special, Armin. Killing someone for the first time isn't supposed to feel easy. It means you're still human."

"Captain—" Mikasa's voice warning, but Levi cut her off with a look.

"Don't coddle him," Levi snapped.

His tone softening just slightly as his gaze returned to Armin. "What you did saved a life. You can sit here and hate yourself for it, or you can accept it for what it was—a necessity."

Mikasa looked at Armin, her protective instincts warring with the truth in Levi's words. She reached out and placed a hand on Armin's knee, grounding him. "You're not alone," she said gently. "We've all been there."

Eren, sitting next to Armin, finally spoke. "You did what you had to do, Armin. That guy... he would've killed Farlan."

Isabel, who had been uncharacteristically silent, leaned forward. "It doesn't get easier," she said softly, "but we learn to live with it. And we lean on each other to get through."

Farlan nodded in agreement, his expression one of gratitude and understanding. "You saved my life, Armin. I won't forget that ever."

Armin swallowed hard. "It doesn't feel right."

"It never does," Levi said, leaning back against the side of the cart, his tone quieter now. "And if it ever does, that's when you should start worrying."

The cart fell silent again, but this time, the quiet felt less oppressive. Armin's hands still shook, but his breathing began to steady, the weight of Levi's words sinking in.

The arrival at HQ was subdued. As the cart came to a halt, Levi stepped down first, and turned to the others.

"Go get some rest. We'll talk tomorrow."

Mikasa lingered, her gaze trailing him as he turned. She expected him to call her name, to gesture for her to stay, but he didn't. His back rigid as if he were holding himself together through sheer force of will.

Everyone else dispersed, heading toward the boys' and girls' barracks. Mikasa hesitated, her feet rooted to the ground. Her heart ached with the weight of unspoken words, the tension between them gnawing at her. She couldn't let it end like this, not tonight, now that they were finally back inside the safety.

Levi's shoulders tensed as he heard her footsteps following him. He stopped just outside his office door, turning slightly to see her standing there.

"Mikasa," he said, almost a warning.

She opened her mouth to speak, but under his intense gaze, the words caught in her throat. She looked at him, her frustration and longing evident in her eyes, but still, she said nothing.

For a moment, he simply stared at her. His own restraint was unraveling, the sight of her pushing him closer to the edge he was desperately trying to stay away from. He knew if he called her now, if he let her stay, he wouldn't be able to stop himself. He still needed to get through to her without letting his emotions cloud his judgment.

But the silence stretched on, and her presence chipped away at his resolve.

Finally, Levi opened the door to his office, gesturing for Mikasa to go in first. She hesitated briefly, before stepping inside. The door closed behind her with a soft click.

"Levi," she began, an attempt to ease the tension hanging thickly between them. "I know you're—"

She didn't get to finish.

Before she could say another word, Levi moved. In an instant, he turned her around and pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly while being careful with her wounded shoulder. The suddenness of the embrace stunned her, her breath catching as her cheek was pressed against his chest. His hands moved gently—one settling firmly around her back, the other threading into her hair, pressing her closer to him as if he couldn't bear even the smallest distance.

Mikasa froze for only a moment before her arms lifted, wrapping around him just as tightly. She could feel the steady, rapid thrum of his heartbeat against her own, a rhythm that mirrored the emotions she hadn't been able to voice.

Neither of them spoke. For now, the anger, the frustration, the chaos of the past days melted away, leaving only the quiet, shared relief of being together again.

Levi's chin rested lightly against the top of her head as he finally exhaled, his breath warm against her hair. "You have no idea how close I was to losing it."

Her own emotions bubbling to the surface. "I missed you."

His hold became firmer. For now, everything else could wait.

Moments later, Levi's hold on her loosened as he stepped back, though his hands lingered briefly on her shoulders. The warmth replaced by the tension. Levi moved to his desk and leaned against it, arms crossed over his chest. Mikasa stepped forward to the desk, mirroring his stance.

Levi broke the silence first.

"You shouldn't have ignored my orders," he said, devoid of any anger. "You put yourself in unnecessary danger."

Mikasa glanced down, the edge of her boot scuffing the floor. "I know," she admitted quietly. "But I couldn't just stay behind when I thought you were in trouble."

"That's the problem," Levi said, calmly. "You acted without thinking it through. That's exactly what they were counting on."

Her eyes snapped to his. "What do you mean?"

Levi straightened slightly. "That informant wasn't just some random Underground dweller. It was a setup. The weapons the rebellion had—Military Police issue. And whoever sent that informant knew you'd take the bait."

"Military Police? How can you be sure?"

Levi leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees as he stared at the floor. "I inspected the weapons myself. The brand, the serial marks—everything points to the MPs. Someone within their ranks orchestrated this."

"You mean... they wanted me there?"

"Think about it. They figured out I was going Underground alone, and they used that to lure you down there. Whoever's behind this knows us. Knows how we operate. And they gambled—correctly—that you wouldn't stay put."

Mikasa processed his words. "So they knew about us?"

Levi gave a curt nod. "It's the only thing that makes sense. If they were just targeting me, there's no reason to involve you. But they knew using me as bait would work on you. That kind of tactic doesn't happen by chance."

Anger bubbling beneath the surface. "And now they've seen me. Everyone down there knows who I am. My name, my face—it's all exposed."

Levi's voice softened, though his words remained cutting. "Now you're a target."

Mikasa was silent for a moment. Slowly, she began unwrapping the cloth around her wrist, revealing the intricate mark etched into her skin—the symbol of her Oriental lineage. She stared at it for a moment before speaking, her voice tinged with bitterness.

"Do you think... this has something to do with them wanting me?" she asked, lifting her wrist. "My lineage—being Oriental?"

Levi's gaze shifted to the mark. "Most likely one of the reasons," he admitted. "It's rare. That alone makes you a target."

Her lips pressed into a thin line, and she let her arm fall to her side. "So it's because of this," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. "The reason my family died... it's because of the blood running through my veins."

"Don't go there," he said quietly. "You can't blame yourself for that."

"What's so special about it, anyway?" she asked bitterly. "I didn't even know anything about it until today. What could possibly be worth all this... ?"

Levi didn't answer immediately. Mikasa's mind drifts as her fingers brush over the mark.

"Maybe Armin can poke his nose through old books and find something," she continued.

Levi pushed off the desk slightly, turning his head to look at her. He reached over, his hand sliding to the back of her head and guiding her closer. He bent down slightly, and pressed his forehead against hers.

Their eyes locked, and in the quiet, the weight of his words hung between them before he even spoke. "Special blood or not," he said, his gaze boring into hers, "they're not getting to you."

Mikasa felt her breath hitch, the intensity in his eyes chasing away any lingering doubt. It was just them and his quiet promise anchoring her in place.

"I know," she whispered, letting the moment ground her before she spoke again. "And I'll make sure they don't get to you either."

At that Levi's lips twitched in a smirk before he let go of her and straightened. "Mikasa, I would never, ever willingly put you in danger or call for you to a place like that. Not without damn good reason."

She nodded silently, understanding the depth of his words. Levi's tone shifting to one of authority. "The move they pulled—sending a false informant, planting the idea that I needed help—it worked too well this time. The Corps needs to be on alert for anything that smells like a setup. If it's not us, it'll be someone else they might target."

Then Mikasa spoke. "I didn't mean to cause trouble for you," she said quietly, her gaze dropping to the floor. "It's just... that day, and even before that, I've been feeling so on edge. Not entirely because of you, but... I don't know. Everything's been getting under my skin, like it's all amplified."

Levi didn't respond right away. The silence stretched as if he was weighing his words carefully.

"When I saw you there," he began, "surrounded by those bastards in the rebellion, I knew you could handle yourself. You're more than capable, and I trust that. But it doesn't matter how strong you are—it doesn't stop the feeling."

He paused briefly before locking eyes with her again. "It felt like my chest was about to cave in. I shouldn't have yelled at you there, not in front of everyone, but when I saw you in the middle of that mess..." He looked away for a moment. "I was furious. At them, at the situation, and yeah, at you too—because you could've been hurt. And I wouldn't have been able to stop it."

"I'm not saying you were right or wrong," his tone still gruff. "But I shouldn't have let it show like that. Especially not there, not in front of all those people. It wasn't fair to you."

Mikasa blinked, the tension in her chest easing at his admission.

"When you left," she said softly, "you didn't tell me everything. You left without telling me what you were doing, what you were walking into."

He didn't interrupt as she continued.

"I hate being left in the dark, Levi," she admitted. "I don't care if it's dangerous or complicated—I don't want to be kept out of it. Not when it's you."

Levi let out a soft sigh, "I didn't want to drag you into this mess," he said, his tone quieter now. "If I'd told you everything, you'd have followed me, and I couldn't risk that."

"Not knowing was worse," Mikasa shot back. "It left me imagining the worst."

For a moment, he said nothing, the weight of her words hanging heavily between them.

Finally, he exhaled, his tone gruff but sincere. "You're right. I should've told you." He paused, meeting her eyes. "I'll try not to keep you in the dark next time. But you have to promise me something too—don't run headfirst into danger without thinking it through."

Mikasa nodded. "Alright. But don't think that means I'll sit back if I know you're in trouble."

He huffed out a faint chuckle. "Wouldn't expect anything less."

Levi leaned back slightly as a flicker of humor crossed his stoic expression. "So ... Ms. Executioner, huh?" he said. "Didn't know I had a legend from the Underground in my wing."

Mikasa groaned softly, pinching the bridge of her nose. "It's just a name. I don't even know how it started."

"Uh-huh." His eyebrow arched, enjoying her discomfort. "So you're saying you have no idea why people are whispering about you like you're some mercenary hitman?"

She crossed her arms defensively. "It was Eren and Armin's fault. They thought it'd make us sound scarier during one of our jobs. It was supposed to be a joke." She shook her head. "I didn't think it would stick, but apparently the Underground loves gossip."

Levi smirked, his tone turning sly. "Speaking of gossip, though...I caught some of that. Something about Jace whispering if the Executioner really cut off a guy's d—"

"Don't," Mikasa interrupted as her face turned crimson. "Don't even finish that sentence."

Levi leaned forward, his expression mock-serious. "So it's true, then?"

"It's not," Mikasa said quickly, though her voice lacked conviction.

Levi didn't let up, the glint of amusement in his eyes making her squirm. "Doesn't sound like a no."

Her arms tightened around herself as she turned her gaze away, muttering something under her breath.

"What was that?" Levi asked, feigning curiosity. "Speak up. Didn't catch that."

"It was one time!" Mikasa blurted, her face now completely red. "The guy wouldn't stop running his mouth, so I... I might've threatened him, okay?"

Levi's brows shot up, his smirk widening. "Threatened him?"

She groaned, glaring at him. "Fine. I may have... nicked him a little. Just enough to shut him up."

Levi blinked, then let out a low chuckle that turned into a genuine laugh. "Nicked him a little? What, like a warning shot for his pride?"

Mikasa buried her face in her hands. "Can we not talk about this anymore?"

Levi shook his head, still grinning. "No wonder they were scared of you. 'Executioner' is starting to make a lot of sense. But I've got to admit—cutting someone down to size? Living up to the Ackerman name."

Mikasa groaned louder. "I hate you."

In a swift motion, Levi stepped in front of her, one hand on each side of her, caging her against the desk as he leaned down to her face. His gray eyes bore into hers, a flicker of mischief lighting up their usual intensity.

His voice dropped to a low murmur, his breath ghosting against her ear. "You hate me?" His tone was teasing, edged with sly amusement. "Doesn't seem like it."

Before Mikasa could respond, his lips quirked upward. "Or maybe," he continued, leaning closer, "you were just missing me. That's why everything's been getting under your skin, isn't it?"

Mikasa blinked, momentarily stunned by his audacity. "Don't flatter yourself," she shot back, though betraying her flustered state.

Levi tilted his head slightly, his smirk widening. "That's not a no," he murmured, his lips brushing lightly against her neck before trailing toward her collarbone.

"Levi," she said firmly, placing a hand on his chest and pushing him back just enough to create some space. "No. We are not doing this right now."

He quirked a brow, his amusement not fading. "Why not?"

"Because we just came from the Underground, and we're filthy," she retorted, straightening her posture, her cheeks still faintly flushed. "You, of all people, should know better."

Levi's mouth twitched as though suppressing a grin. "We can fix that. Together."

Her eyes widened slightly. "Absolutely not. I want a long, peaceful bath. Alone," she scoffed as she pushed him back slightly to walk towards the adjoining bedroom.

"Why alone?" he asked, his tone teasingly innocent. "A husband can wash up with his wife, can't he?"

Mikasa stiffened, her head snapping back toward him as her blush deepened. "I knew you heard it! Do you have supersonic hearing or something?"

Levi's smirk grew smugly. "Of course I did. Mari wasn't exactly subtle. Something about me being 'handsome.'" His tone was deliberately teasing, making Mikasa want to simultaneously hide under a rock and smack him.

"She's nine," Mikasa shot back. "She's not a credible source."

"And the whole 'shh' thing? Very convincing."

Mikasa groaned again, throwing her hands up in exasperation. "I was trying to keep her from giggling all night, alright?"

"Noted," Levi replied with a low chuckle. "But I have to admit, it has a nice ring to it. Husband and wife, huh?"

Mikasa paused at the doorway, her hand resting lightly on the frame. She glanced over her shoulder, her eyes locking with Levi's. A faint, teasing smile played on her lips as she tilted her head slightly.

"So... Mr. Handsome, why are you still standing there?" she asked, her tone casual, despite the challenge in her voice.

Levi's brows lifted for a fraction of a second, caught off guard. But then his lips curved into a slow, knowing smirk.

"Cheeky," he muttered, already moving toward her.