10.
Eren watched the man for a long time as he scrubbed those blades clean of blood. His movements were brisk and meticulous, as though the previous encounters with death did not exist. If he hadn't known better, he would have thought Levi was just a normal swordsman who came across some filthy weaponry. But even from the back, the boy could sense just how fatigued the man was. He gazed at Levi sadly: what he had witnessed about the Survey Corps before was simply the glorious façade. He had no idea what lied behind those heroic actions. What he and the rest of the world saw were supermen who could conquer even the most atrocious monsters. Yet the real people lived behind the masks of valor; and unveiled underneath were dulled calamity, numbness, and hands stained with never-ending blood.
Sleep did not come easy for Eren. Especially not when the wound of losing a friend was still strikingly fresh. Back in the orphanage, whenever he couldn't sleep, he would ask the nuns for a bedtime story. If they were in a good mood, they would tell him one, and both Mikasa and Armin would scoot over on his bed to listen in. His eyes lowered wistfully when he realized that would never happen again. Armin was gone; and he didn't know when he'd be able to see Mikasa again, if ever at all. He doubted he was allowed to go back to the orphanage.
Levi saw the boy's gloomy reflection in the waters but made no intension to turn around. Ignoring his presence, Levi continued to wash the blood smudges on his blade. For a couple of times, he saw the boy open his mouth and struggled to say something, but it always ended with him hastily closing it again.
Finally, Eren let out a small whine of bleakness.
"Levi…? I can't sleep…"
Levi stopped disrupting the waters so he could see the helpless shadow of the barefoot boy on the fluctuated currents.
"Come make yourself useful then." He said dispassionately.
Eren hesitated before making his way to Levi, dragging his feet. A part of him regretted speaking up. He knew nothing about fighting tools; and he wanted absolutely nothing to do with the knife that stabbed Armin. He didn't know what he had expected. Of course Levi wasn't going to snuggle him and tell him a story. The man was a fighter. A gladiator. …A killer.
A handful of bandages were thrown in his face, catching him by such surprise that he almost dropped them. The man watched coldly as the young boy fumbled clumsily, trying very hard not to trip over.
When Eren finally picked up the entire load, he saw Levi raise his large hand in front of him, palm up. Those green eyes focused on the deep cut on it and a small gasp escaped before the boy could swallow it down. Eren was only a kid, and he had never been face to face to a serious injury like this. Albeit mischievous, the kids from the shelter only suffered light abrasions from their own playfulness, never a gash like this. The flesh on the man's hand had been completely sliced open, leaving nothing but a dark red gap exuding blood.
"Bandage it." Levi told him.
Eren gulped. "I-I don't know how…"
Levi sighed exasperatedly, "Fasten it here. Good. Now bind it. …Tighter." Though he was intensively annoyed by the kid's ineptness, his tone still softened as he directed the boy.
"Like this?" Eren asked earnestly, hoping he was at least some use to the man; a man who had both saved and destroyed him in the same day.
"…Yes."
As the boy carefully secured the bandages' end, he took a step back to examine his own work. It was sloppy, but it had at least stopped the bleeding.
Levi flexed his fingers a couple of times to make sure the wraps had been tight enough before slowly taking off his jacket and unbuttoning his shirt.
"I need you to pull the glass out and wipe the cuts with this." The man handed over a clear bottle of medical alcohol.
Eren watched in both anxiety and concern as the man revealed his bare torso. The boy gasped again loudly as he saw the cuts on the muscular back – there were still shards of glass lodged in his skin from his previous fall through the window, in addition to the many other uneven disfigurements.
Trembling fingers traced over the scarred skin and hesitated by the sharp glass. Hot tears fell down, scorching Levi's back as the boy wept. He had never even dared to imagine how broken the man was under those decent clothes he had once yearned. He felt something bitter wedged in his throat. The wounds that the man had gone through – they had all been because of him. If he hadn't gotten captured by those scoundrels… if he hadn't been standing in that titan's attack range… then Levi wouldn't have been hurt at all…
And to think that he had actually tried to cause the man more pain because he blamed him for Armin…
"I'm s-sorry…" Drenched in guilt, the boy wailed softly, "It's a-all my fault…"
Yet Levi simply sat there on the uncomfortable riverbank with his marred back to the child, silently enduring his burning tears and saying nothing in return.
…
…
…
Chevell Babineaux examined the man front of him, a little shocked at his appearance. He had heard from many others that Corporal Levi was a formidable man; the strongest soldier in human history. He had pictured a tall, burly man in his early thirties, with scars all over his face. Yet the man that had arrived looked nothing like who he had imagined. Corporal Levi looked almost too young to be Corporal. He was quite short, and nowhere as muscular as Chevell had thought. The most surprising element was the fact that he was carrying a wrapped up bundle that looked suspiciously like a sleeping child.
"Corporal Levi. It's an honor to meet you in person, Sir." Chevell nodded his head respectively, "We…thought you'd be arriving yesterday."
"I came across some complications." The man replied coolly.
"…Yes, of course." Chevell's eyes travelled to the brown haired child. His youthful face was filled with light bruises. Chevell looked at Levi again. There was blood seeping out the bandages on the left hand that was holding the boy. Chevell wondered how strong Levi could actually be if he had allowed both himself and his child to be hurt to this extent. Then again, Chevell wondered whether Levi himself had beaten this child.
Clearing his throat, Chevell forced a polite smile on his face, "We only prepared one room for you, Sir. We weren't aware you'd be bringing your...son."
Levi's cold eyes swept up lifelessly, "My nephew."
As if hearing his cue, the child spoke up drowsily in a barely audible murmur, "...Arm...Armin…"
Levi frowned and patted him lightly on the back, and the boy fell silent again.
This all seemed very conspicuous to Chevell. He had always been a strict follower to the rules, and he had received very clear orders to prepare one single room for the Survey Corps official.
"I would need to send word to the authority in order to add essentials for your nephew, Corporal." Chevell stated.
"There's no need for that."
Chevell paused for a moment, "Um…well, that's not quite up to you, you see. We only have enough provisions for you, Sir. I need to check with the authority to know whether they'd be able to distribute more for your nephew. It's my job to – "
Levi had closed his uninjured hand around his neck, his grasp so stringent that it had closed the airway to his lungs. Pathetically, Chevell struggled and gasped, saliva dripping from the corner of his mouth. His eyes had bulged comically at the force the man had held. His feet were barely touching the ground due to the man's hold on his throat. He had experienced, firsthand, how intimidating Levi could be.
"You report nothing. You will turn a blind eye towards my nephew. If you write to the authority," Levi tightened his grip on Chevell's neck, making him splutter even more incoherently, "…I will make sure it's the last order you ever adhere to. Do you understand me, Soldier?"
Chevell forced himself to nod, as he could make out no words. His entire body was trembling at Levi's unemotional attitude, as if only stating a fact instead of threatening his life.
Levi let go abruptly, and Chevell fell to his knees. Coughing, he massaged his neck. From his peripherals, he saw Levi walk away, no longer the violent attacker he was just a second ago.
Levi had been at war for as long as he could remember. Whether it was with the titans, or with the Military Police. He had been the youngest soldier to join the Survey Corps years ago, and it had been the only life he had known. His past had been sealed, but he had lost almost everyone along the journey to point where the little humanity left behind in him had been reduced to smithereens.
It had been a long time, too long, since anyone had broken into the prison he had incarcerated himself within. Yet the simple-minded child was starting to do so, somehow.
Levi was suddenly extremely aware of the boy's cheek on his shoulder. The kid had sobbed himself to sleep after he saw the wounds on Levi's jarred back. Whether if it was because the scars had been too terrifying, or the longing for the kid's friend had been too excruciating, Levi was not sure. The boy had been inconsolable, and Levi wasn't one to offer comfort in the first place. He had gotten too tired of the consistent cries. Tears solved nothing. Crying was only a form of expression, which, to Levi, had always been redundant. But he knew there was no way a 5-year-old would come to comprehend that.
Eren shifted lightly and mumbled a few other inarticulate words. Levi glanced at the sleeping child, taking in his puffy eyes and swollen cheek.
Subliminally, Eren's thin arms around the man's neck tightened. As if he were petrified the man would vanish into thin air if he let go, and leave him with nothing but an armful of tragic hollowness.
…
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Thank you for your time!
To TheActualF**k and Kurogane Tsubasa, I really appreciate your feedback ;p thanks for taking the time to review.
