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The thought that this day simply cannot be so calm comes to Levi during lunch.
The dining room is noisy and smells like braised beans with barley - a basic dish on their not-so-varied menu. Soldiers sit at tables of five or six on one bench, and even so there are hardly enough places. From the last enlistment, many cadets joined them - and many of them survived the first expedition. Levi does not remember the last time it was so noisy here.
He sits at the officer's table, on the very edge of the bench, and finishes his tea, wincing at loud chatter. In the next place, Hange, who has not gone down to the common dining room for a long time, is talking about something with Mike, but Levi prefers to ignore them. Outside - summer is in full swing. The bright sun that has been waiting for so long is finally starting to really warm. At the training ground, soft green grass sprouted through the sand. And horses and cadets seem to be much more willing to go out to train. Under this bright, clear summer sky, Levi feels like a bug hidden under a stone, which was forcibly pulled into the light. He is unusual here. Still uncomfortable under this distant blue dome, and at night he feels much calmer, but still so - right. A person must live under heaven. Must see sunlight.
And on such calm days, it is easier than ever for him to admit to himself that he is in the Survey Corps not because he cannot leave, but because he does not want to.
The idea that this day simply cannot be so good comes to him right there, and when the figure of a soldier is shown on the threshold of the dining room, looking for someone, he knows it is by his soul. Levi turns away and finishes the last sip of hot, bitter tea and waits. Soldiers' boots pounding the wooden floor. The boy stops in front of their table, throws a frightened look at Levi, which he tries to hide.
"What do you want, Cartner?"
"The Commander calls you to his office."
Hange falls silent and gives him an expressive look. Their table is covered with silence, and the cadets sitting nearby look around almost frightened. Levi flicks his tongue irritably and sets aside the mug.
He is trying to calculate why his presence was suddenly needed, but there are no ideas. Hange barely visibly pushes her head to the side.
"Go. We'll take the dishes."
"Alright."
The boy Cartner escorts him all the way to the doorstep. Levi silently walks along the corridor, scrolling through his head suddenly alarmed thoughts.
Whatever, as long as the news from Erwin wasn't bad.
They rush to open the door in front of him, but Levi pushes the boy away and crosses the threshold of the office without knocking.
It is warm and even stuffy here - the windows face the sunny side. In the light, dust particles are spinning in the air. Levi sees a layer of dust on the bottom bookshelf right from the doorstep. When was the last time he cleaned up here? Two weeks ago? Erwin kept asking not to disturb him, immersed in business.
And now, right in the center of the sun-drenched office, sitting on a wooden chair, Erwin shifts one piece of paper after another and slowly looks up, Levi stands to enter. It seems they haven't spoken in a while. The commander's blonde hair shines with white gold.
"Sit down. We need to talk."
Levi goes deep into the room - the heels of uniform boots clatter loudly on the floor - and sits down in a chair for visitors, arms crossed over his chest. During his several years in the service, he learned something about subordination, as did what many of these points he is allowed to ignore alone with Erwin.
"I'm listening."
Erwin puts the papers aside and clasps his palms into the lock, watching with genuine seriousness. Frowning, he catches Levi's eye with his own and broadcasts:
"A sports festival will be held in a month to attract the attention of sponsors. The Garrison, Military Police and the Corps will take part in. You must participate in it."
"Alone?"
"No. There are three people in the team," Erwin pauses, letting the news digest. "Mike participates in hand-to-hand combat. In shooting - Mikasa. The last competence is overcoming the obstacle course with the help of ODM."
"Well, of course."
Levi lowers his head, breaking eye contact, and stares somewhere at the corner of the oak table, on which a layer of dust becomes even better visible in sunlight.
The problem is that he does not know how to work in a team, and even less likes increased attention to his person. All these nicknames like "the strongest warrior of humanity" and so added to him a decent headache. If Erwin wants to drag him into the heart of the circus and make him juggle balls, he will have to try.
And he, as if hearing his thoughts, continues:
"Let me be clear. Further sponsorship of expeditions directly depends on whether we win or lose."
Levi purses his lips and grunts with displeasure.
"So I have no choice," he muses aloud. "You command me to participate and win."
"You got it right."
Erwin's broad-shouldered figure appears even larger in the light of the midday sun. Here he is, having a conversation, solving his commander's questions, and Levi sees that his thoughts are far from here, and asks himself - how much is human in this Erwin now, and what is only the thirteenth captain of the Survey Corps without a soul?
"Well," he tosses up his chin and squints thoughtfully. "If you want the win, I'll bring it to you," nods barely noticeable. "But it surrenders to me, with Mike and the girl Ackerman you did not have such a conversation. Are you more sure of them?"
Erwin continues to look directly, as if trying to read something bruised under his eyes.
"I'm trying to show you respect with a conversation like that. As commander."
"Next time don’t do that."
"As you wish."
Erwin is in no hurry to chase him away, and Levi takes this as a green light to continue the conversation. He sees endless fatigue in blue eyes, and seems to have to save the commander from his own thoughts.
"Why don't you offer me to participate in hand-to-hand combat? Afraid, I will lose?"
Erwin pulls the corner of his lips in an attempt at a smile and shakes his head lightly.
"You know how to fight, but your skills isn't suitable for demonstration fight. Also, Mike and Mikasa are great soldiers. I'm confident in them in those positions."
He covers his eyes and slowly leans back in his chair, finally relaxing his shoulders. His voice drops, and his speech becomes a little slower.
"But in Military Police too many skilled fighters. In the end, only the best cadets are taken there. So I'm not going to underestimate them."
It's been about a month since they last slept.
The memories of that night are played in my head surprisingly clearly - Levi enters the same office without knocking. Time - somewhere after midnight. He can't sleep again. He leans over Erwin's shoulder, still signing documents from a pile that doesn't think to shrink - and in an even voice says he wants him in bed. He says "Erwin, I want you right now." He bends down and almost affectionately clings to someone else's auricle with his teeth and calls: "Erwin." Then again. There is more. Crawls with cold hands under the the uniform shirt. And again - "Erwin."
He's taken right on that wide oak table. Erwin impress his chest into a spread pile of documents and breathe heavily in the ears, and then whisper something so well-fed and rather, so affectionately, that the knees begin to tremble.
Levi sighs wearily and decides - enough for today.
He rises from his chair and looks away, hiding all the alarmed demons under strands of hair that have fallen on his forehead. Better to translate the topic. Better not to complicate.
"I know about your collection. Me, Hange, boy titan, girl Ackerman, even your horse. We are tools to achieve your goal," he comments casually. "I'm fine with that. But don't say that to youngsters. Everyone already believes that you are insane."
Levi leaves the words hanging in the warm air and is about to leave as he is stopped:
"Thank you for worrying about my reputation. But I have to correct one inaccuracy."
Levi holds the door, already standing on the doorstep, and glances over his shoulder.
"And where was I wrong?"
"You are the crown of my collection."
He leaves the office, slamming the door louder than he expected. So be it. Let Erwin remember that there is no need for eulogies between them. They both go the same way. They are equal. Levi takes his orders, but they both serve the same purpose.
The thirteenth commander of the Survey Corps is not a devil or a god who sentenced him to serve for the rest of his life. Levi is here - with him. He stands by and holds this heavy weight on his shoulders just like Erwin. No one is to blame and no one is a victim and there is no room for "thank you" and "sorry" between them.
But when Erwin says he's his best weapon, it's hard to keep drowning that almost dog-like devotion and desire to serve him until the last hour.
Levi, however, almost succeeds.
It takes a whole month - exactly before the start of the festival.
He spends all thirty days on the training field - the sun is shining, the rain is drizzling, the sky is tightening with clouds and again - the sun. He uses the opportunity to prepare for the competition as an excuse and spends all his free time in silence in a small line behind the military unit. A couple of times he goes to a hand-to-hand duel with Mike, during which they play out to such an extent that Hanji has to personally pull them apart in different corners of the parade ground, breathing heavily and pressing wooden knives to each other's throats.
He trains in shooting with Mikasa - but only once, because the girl already shoots like a damn sniper, and his skills remain firmly at the "excellent" mark, and he does not care more. He doesn't have any heat for firearms.
On the last evening before the competition, in order to somehow fall asleep, Levi covers the desktop in his room with a white handkerchief - only it, as befits the captain - and disassembles the ODM, carefully lubricating every detail. Methodically, slowly. He disassembles parts of the installation one after another and carefully examines for damage. Cleans. Lubricates with oil from a small pipette.
So the head gets rid of unnecessary thoughts, but it is still far from complete enlightenment. He knows he won't be able to sleep for much longer. He can, of course, try to visit Erwin, but the last time they met a couple of days ago at dinner, he looked like it was better not to touch him. He can get to Hange's laboratory - she definitely doesn't sleep, but then he will have to forget about any dream, because the woman will clog his head with only new information. She's probably got even bigger sleep deprivation problems than he and Erwin.
The quiet knock on the door. Twice. And silence.
Levi lays down the protective plate from the trigger and throws up his head.
"Who?"
The door opens quietly - Erwin stands on the threshold, leaning his shoulder against the door frame.
"Am I interrupting?"
"What? My insomnia?"
Erwin grunts amusingly and walks into the room, locking the door behind him. He steps softly, almost silently, and sits on the edge of the bed, resting his elbows on his knees.
"I thought maybe you'd rather be alone."
He is in a civilian thin turtleneck and some crumpled trousers. On the head is a crow's nest. On the bridge of the nose - a trace of glasses.
"What have you granted? Decided to check if I was shirking from preparation?"
"No," he runs his palm over his head, trying to put his hair in order, which makes everything worse, and suddenly says: "I just wanted to see you."
His voice sounds so tired that Levy can't stand it. Puts details aside. He rises from his chair with a quiet sigh.
"You look shit. Bureaucrats ate your whole brain?"
"You have no idea."
Levi knows that he is the only one with whom Erwin allows himself to look weak. The only one to whom he can come almost at midnight in such a form as if his carriage had moved, and sigh hard, sitting on someone else's bed. He knows that always - even behind the stone mask of a heartless commander - Erwin stands in front of him, who allows himself to be stroked on the head like a small child.
He knows that this Erwin, sadly looking into his eyes, and he - in an even voice giving orders on the battlefield - is the same person. Two sides of one coin, which turns to it either by edge or by minting; the coin that he tosses into the air every now and then, trusting fate and agreeing in advance with any side that falls out.
Levi runs his palm through the blonde hair once more, and Erwin catches his wrist, dragging him onto the bed. They fit on their sides, facing each other, and then he decides to speak:
"Is our commander worried?"
"Not at all," blinks slowly, glancing sleepily at Levi's face. "This may be the first time we get sponsorship so easily."
"You sound like we've already won."
"It's only a matter of time."
Erwin lazily blinks and raises his hand, tucking Levi's short hair behind his ear. He runs his fingertips over the thin skin behind his ear several times before lowering the hand, slowly stroking the shaved scruff. Levi sees - almost falling asleep.
The commander had terrible bruises under his eyes during the time they did not see each other. He himself, he is sure, is exactly the same. They plunge back into work duties, forgetting that loneliness deprives themselves of their sanity.
"You should sleep more," Levi grumbles, moving closer. "You can stay here."
"Your smell," Erwin whispers confidentially, still staring at him, "calms me down."
"I'm from the shower recently," he frowns.
Erwin smiles at the lip edge and continues to slowly stroke the back of his neck. Levi involuntarily holds his breath. This is a short movement - back and forth, along delicate skin, along short hairs. Erwin's palm is large and warm, and he himself is a real stove, and Levi gets closer, falling into a warm cocoon of the smell of ink, fresh papers and someone else's skin.
"No," Erwin rumbles. "I'm talking about your smell. You smell like soap. And something familiar. Like home even."
Levi covers his eyes and swallows the accumulated saliva along with the echo of the spoken words - they settle somewhere in the sternum, winding around the ribs.
They lie alone on the same bed and smell each other like fools - or rather like wild animals. They do not have the right words to express their feelings and what is raging inside. There are only instincts. A set of basic feelings, like anger or hunger. Desperate need to be around. Silence, one for two. And a chest void filled with the other's heart.
But, if you still choose the words, "home" - it sounds really sick. Too close to the left lung. Too hard, so that it falls into a vein - and immediately death.
Levi rolls this word on his tongue with a touch of shock.
A few years ago, he watched Erwin from the windows of the barracks, planning his murder. Then he would be glad to feel the hot blood of the thirteenth commander on his hands. Now - he runs the same hand on someone else's cheek, and knows that he will protect his life even at the cost of his own.
Erwin covers the eyes, dark eyelashes cast long shadows on his cheekbones. So delicate with his fluffy lashes and soft lips. Cold, with a sharp, stubborn look and a strong-willed chin.
And suddenly he opens his eyes, turns, trying to lie down more comfortably, and then lowers his eyes and says:
"Levi, you're hard."
Levi puts his head down - bloody hell. This is noticeably much stronger than he had hoped. Sighs, again darts under his breath.
"We haven't had it for a long time," gives out. "And now you, warm, bed... just don't worry."
But Erwin is already reaching for the button on his trousers, tangled in the floors of his uniform shirt.
"Let me help you."
"No need. Erwin."
Levi fights back - almost. Holds his hand. Grumbles. Knows - Erwin is out of shape now. He would have a warm shower and a strong sleep for ten hours, or even more. He is tired, rumpled, squeezed like a lemon - he doesn't have it today, and this is not news. Erwin has bad days when he stays somewhere on the frontier, somewhere in between his own life - and the death of all the soldiers that died for him. Levy knows today is just such a day.
But Erwin still reaches into his pants. Fiddles with the clasp, kisses wet somewhere on the forehead, whispers:
"Let me."
And Levi gives up. He covers his eyes and laps at the warm palm, breathing quietly. They touch him so carefully that you want to howl in your voice. Erwin squeezes his nose into his temple and drives his hand in some kind of medium rhythm, from which all the air freezes in his lungs. He puts Levi's second hand under his head, presses it to himself, chastely presses his lips to his cheek, to other people's lips - sleepily, affectionately, unusually gently.
Levi recalls - "home."
Erwin called him that.
He bites his cheek, breathes heavily, clings to his shoulders.
Thinks again.
Home.
There is something prohibitively close about it. Something fleeting - just for them, just for this bed and this night. Only at this second, just for a moment, does he allow himself to think of that word for the first and last time.
Tomorrow they will return to service again, and they will be divided by ranks, and connected - an oath to go towards a common goal. Tomorrow, under the daytime sun, there will be no place for these fragile, shameful feelings for a man, from which Levi breaks so desperately in the Erwin's arms. Tomorrow he will forget about everything. And then, under cover of night, they're going to fuck a little dirty and rough again and never remember that minute.
But now Levi turns this word in his head again and ends in a hot palm, wheezing like a dying dog in the owner's arms. Erwin kisses this sound, holding him by the shoulders, clutching it in his arms as Levi experiences a shiver all over her body.
A little later, when he comes to his senses, he discovers that Erwin has already fallen asleep. Levi carefully wriggles out of stained trousers, wipes the sperm from his palm, soaking the rag in cool water from a drinking jug, and extinguishes the lamp on the table. Then he climbs back onto the bed and covers them both with a blanket - Erwin tosses and turns, but does not open his eye, and Levi leans closer to his chest and falls asleep with a trail, listening to the measured sound of a beating heart.
***
Especially for a sports festival, a huge site the size of an entire field is cleaned. A large semicircle installed stands. In the afternoon, the sun begins to burn simply mercilessly, but, fortunately, the festival itself is nearing completion.
People make joyful noises, shouting and laughing, shouting the names of the participants, and Levi frowns displeased, looking around. He doesn't remember ever seeing a crowd as big as it is now. The entire metropolitan elite gathered to look at the competition, as, indeed, the entire population of the walls. From the noise and bright sun, whiskey squeezes a bad feeling of headache. Levi adjusts the ODM straps and steps closer to the starting line, glancing over the box for the elite. Among the bright women's dresses and solemn shirts, he notices Erwin. He and the commanders of other units occupy several places among the nobility.
Erwin stands at the very edge of the fences, talking with a group of already middle-aged countesses, or maybe the Marquis, who stuck to him from all sides. They say that rich women love the military, and the commander of the Reconnaissance Corps, the youngest among the top officers, attracts special attention. Yet with another look at him, Levi realises that Erwin is staring back, straight at him - without looking up.
The tension in the air increases. The beginning of the last test is about to be announced. The crowd screams, whistles, rages as best they can.
The Survey Corps and the Military Police have the same number of points. In hand-to-hand combat, Mike wins. In shooting - points are deducted by the Military Police, because in the last shot Mikasa slows down with the trigger pressed. So everything is decided. The girl returns to the waiting bench with her face crimson with anger, and reports that the rifle misfired. Levy understands - they put sticks in the wheels. He looks at Erwin through half the stands, hoping to make out his expression, but he only nods calmly.
Erwin understands everything from one lip movement. Erwin orders the festival to continue. Levi turns to the girl and gloomily promises - our victory.
"Pull yourself together, cadet."
Levi takes the field to a standing ovation from the crowd. He hears "it's him! The strongest warrior of mankind!."
He hears a piercing "Captain Levi!" from the side of the stands where his special squad is sitting. It seems that the children are having fun at all. He's almost smiling.
Levi approaches the starting line and meets his eyes with soldiers from Garrison and the Military Police, who have already taken their positions.
"Look, Erwin Smith released his chain dog."
This noise rushes past him, rustle in his ears, like the flow of a fast river. Levi twitches his chin and looks forward, beyond the fenced area, where there are red flags marking the route for the race on UPM. The rules are simple - pass the obstacle course faster than your opponents and collect all the blue flags on the control points. Levi kneads his shoulders as he watches his rivals. Healthy men under a six feet look at him as an outlandish bug. Of course, none of them saw him in action.
Levi stands up to the starting line and squeezes the trigger devices in his palms. The heart beats about the ribs. Boom boom boom.
The cries of the crowd merge into a single white noise.
Garrison's soldier shouts something at him, but he can't hear.
Boom boom boom.
He has an order. That's all.
When the whistle sounds, the participants take off. Levi squeezes the handles empty of the blades and presses on the trigger levers - his body rushes forward, driven by gas emissions. Flying among trees without titans climbing from all sides is a pleasure.
His ODM was modified with Erwin's serve. The handles are smaller, the cables are longer. The torque of the motor increased several times, and the master who assembled its device swore that not a single normal person could withstand this speed and would simply break into a tree. Levi, with his light weight and instant reflexes, this speed fit perfectly, like his own, but very rarely did he manage to spin these pieces of iron so carefree to their limit values.
He flies over crooked branches, twists with a top and slides a centimeter from the blocks of stone, taking flag after flag. Observers waiting for participants at control points barely have time to launch flares into the sky.
When the forest thicket ends, the strip continues in open space directly in front of the stands. Flags are set on high spires - Levi clings to wooden partitions with cables and throws his body into a blue height, tearing the blue triangle from a height of ten meters.
Another flag is near the ground itself, squeezed by walls of wooden boxes, so close that those healthy barns from the Garrison and the Military Police will not crawl through, even if they really want to. To the cries of the crowd, Levi sigs down from the gained height and slips between the boards, almost turning the boxes with his shoulder.
Counts prey in his bosom - one, two, three. Ten in all - he picks up the last flag and crosses the finish line to a loud ovation. Slides his feet on the ground, raising a cloud of dust. Twists the boot marks with a crooked figure eight and finally stops, frozen under the scorching sun. It breathes heavily, driven, the heart pours somewhere in the throat.
Looks around, shakes off uniform trousers. His rivals still cross the finish line and almost bite into the sand with their knees, barely standing. The crowd welcomes them, too.
While the Survey Corps is declared the winners of the festival, Levi stands up to his full height and spreads his shoulders, catching Erwin's gaze. The expression on his face cannot be made out exactly, but his gaze is as clear as ever. A heavy, patronising, proud look from the man whose horse first came to the finish line. This is not understood in another way.
Another way is not needed.
Levi looks intently, almost with a challenge, they say, you better never doubt me. Erwin nods back slowly, respectfully. Gives him credit.
Erwin didn't even think it would be any different - Levi reads in the look. They both knew it. They both did only what they had to. Erwin - did not doubt him for a second. Levy - brought him the promised victory, as a hunting dog brings the owner shot game. On his shoulder, the Survey Corps emblem burns furiously and appears to morph into Erwin Smith's personal initials, driven under the skin in permanent ink.
Levi never swore allegiance to the Scouts. And he did not put his fist to his chest. He serves neither the king nor the god.
He is an ordinary person, and destroys titans - for the sake of people inside the walls. He chooses a world in which people are killed by other people rather than devoured by titans. So he's still here.
Because the thirteenth commander of the Corps will do everything to make this world a reality. Will give anything - even his humanity. If Erwin has to become the devil to make the right decisions, he is already trying on this role.
He will not back down, no matter how many people die. He will not stop, no matter how many victims the future threatens them. He will never give up his mission.
The victory of humanity is the highest goal.
So Levi gives Erwin Smith his heart. Therefore, he kneels without a fight and follows orders without question. Participates in these stupid competitions and flaunts in public, as he was told.
Therefore, he does not mind being his sword and wings - and even another item on the list of his collection. Because nothing he has done or will do will be in vain. Erwin will continue to walk toward their goal even on pain of death. And to him, only to him, Levi - can not hesitate to hand over his life.
Because one day their actions, their ideas, their followers will save humanity.
When Levi discovers himself on stage with Mikasa and Mike, time is running out for the evening. It's weirdly easy and calm in his head, and he watches with undiluted satisfaction as Erwin, to a standing ovation from the crowd, rises to them. Straight back, shining look.
The three of them brought him to this stage - even if it is only a temporary stage in the middle of the field. They did it - he did it and can now watch Erwin being handed the winner's cup. Then they will have a gala dinner for the entire battalion, but now - they are still here.
The presenter continues his eulogy, women throw small flowers from the stands, hoping that the Commander of the Corps will give them at least one look. But Erwin himself remains half-turned and watches as the three of them - the main circus dogs of this stupid show, hang gold medals on their necks. Levi lowers his head, accepting the medal - and looks, looks Erwin in the eyes, choking in completely inappropriately flared devotion to this man.
He accepts this medal from Erwin. A dummy, no more expensive than a glass of beer, but he fought for it, for his king, and if he says that for the victory of humanity he, Erwin, needs to sit on the throne, Levi will go and behead the old man in the capital. Immediately.
Levi thinks - they're both crazy, damn it.
Levi throws up his chin and looks somewhere over the crowd, over the treetops, ignoring everyone around, and knows that Erwin is still staring at him, smiling at this low-key aristocratic half-smile of his that makes women's knees weak.
But neither of them knows that Erwin Smith has already given him his heart once, and now Levi carefully carries it through the battles, warms in his own empty ribs. And he remains the only person who knows that the thirteenth commander of the Survey Corps has this very heart at all.