A/N: Prompted by an anon on tumblr.
I'm sorry I've been so lazy with review replies lately. I'll get around to them! eep.
It has only been a few weeks since his new squad was formed, and already their habits and quirks are as familiar to Levi as his own. He knows how Erd can never fall asleep on his back, why Gunter flinches whenever a spider scuttles across the floor, what it means when Auruo wipes blood off his mouth again and why he should not be alarmed.
And Petra—Petra Ral, the only female on his squad—he knows her daily routine as well as if she has been around all this time, brewing coffee for them every morning, brushing her horse in the stables at noon, writing letters to her father by candlelight at night. She is all smiles, bright corners and soft angles, good-natured and eager to please; she has easily become a new constant in his life, and he thinks he knows her pretty well already.
Which is why he is confused right now, frowning ever so slightly as she walks into the room, hair messy and eyes still swollen with sleep, uniform rumpled and a scowl on her face.
"Slept in today?" Auruo says around a mouthful of breakfast. "I think Gunter made the coffee; it's shitty compared to yours."
Levi raises an eyebrow at him over his cup. "I made it."
Auruo chokes. "It's… still good though, captain! It's good; Petra's is just—" He breaks out in a fit of coughing and Erd has to pound him on the back.
Gunter chuckles and Levi glances at Petra, expecting amusement from her as well. Instead, she is glaring off into space, her eyebrows drawn and lips puckered.
"You okay, Petra?" Erd asks.
That seems to snap her out of her daze; she blinks and her eyes focus on them. "Yeah, I'm fine," she mutters, and heads for the kitchen, her steps listless and dull.
Gunter, Auruo, and Erd share a worried glance; Levi takes another sip of his coffee and tells himself there's nothing to be concerned about, but he can't help wondering what's gotten the most cheerful member of his squad in such a bad mood.
The training routine today is the same as it always is—Levi plans to change it after another week, just not yet—but something is off about Petra's performance. Her turns are slightly wider than usual, her reactions a bit slower, her movements not nearly as fluid as they usually are as she pulls herself through the air like it is a chore and not a natural motion she does dozens of times every day. She grimaces as she lands in a tree and hunches over slightly, gripping the branch until her knuckles turn white.
"Is something wrong?" he finally asks her after the morning is over and they are putting their equipment away. "You did much worse than usual today."
A bit blunt, perhaps, but he already filtered the words (what's wrong with you? You did terrible was what first popped into mind). Petra sighs a little and raises her eyes to his, suddenly looking sad and weary.
"I'm fine, captain," she says. "I just… don't feel too well right now."
"Are you coming down with a fever?" Perhaps he worked them too hard in the past few weeks. He silently curses; he knows his stamina is much greater than most people's and he should have taken that into consideration. "If you're getting sick…"
"No, it's not that." She smiles weakly and looks away, curling one arm over her abdomen and rubbing her side slightly. "I… my stomach hurts, that's all."
He blinks. That's it? "Why don't you go take a shit then?"
He is perfectly serious, but her cheeks flush instantly—a dark, angry red. "Maybe I will," she bites out, and then storms past him, leaving the rest of her gear in a messy heap on the ground.
He watches her go, then turns back to his own 3DMG, feeling rather perplexed. Was it something I said?