JUST A QUICK WARNING that this chapter contains fairly graphic torture. I may have to change the rating of the story to M after this one! Just keep that in mind when reading, and feel free to skim or skip this chapter entirely if you're the queasy type.
The screaming was certainly louder now that Yavena was in the hallway, and it was accompanied by the occasional whimper as well. It might have just been Yavena's imagination, but she could've sworn she was able to smell blood before even reaching the cell itself…
When she arrived, she noted that the man's face was battered and bruised. Two teeth were missing from his mouth; a stream of red ran down the right side of his forehead, matting in his dark hair. Standing in front of him was Levi, who was wearing a pair of gloves and a grimy smock, both of which were already stained with crimson.
Levi turned around as he heard Yavena approach. His eyes narrowed. "You should be resting."
"Curiosity killed the cat," she retorted evenly, stepping closer. She eyed the man in the chair, attempting to see past his mask. With only a few seconds' look, she was able to see that despite the pain, he had not broken. There was a fire of hatred in his face, but behind that, something even stronger: the desperate look of someone who believed. "And I figured I may be able to help you get something out of him."
Yavena looked back to her fellow Captain with her hands on her hips. They summed each other up: an unspoken battle. Then, like earlier, Levi sighed. It was an admission of defeat. He opened the cell door and gestured her inside.
She nodded in gratitude and stepped closer to the man. Her dark eyes trailed over his face to his hands: one of his fingers was bruised and swollen, clearly broken. It didn't seem as though Levi had attempted to peel his fingernails yet, though. Without turning around, she asked Levi, "Do we know his name?"
"No."
"Then would you be so kind as to tell us your name?" asked Yavena, still staring at the man in the chair.
He glared at her, teeth bared.
"Oh, come now. Surely that isn't too much to ask for," she sighed.
The man sighed and leaned back in the chair as best as he was able while being constrained by dozens of meters of rope—then, as little more than a spit, he said, "Djel Sannes."
Yavena's eyebrows raised. "Oh? The same man who murdered Pastor Nick? Well, Hange will be glad to see you, at least. Why haven't you answered any of our questions, Djel Sannes?"
"Because he didn't ask any!"
She blinked and, annoyed, turned back to Levi. Unable to keep that exasperation from her voice, she exclaimed, "For goodness' sake, Levi. You haven't asked him our questions?"
Levi wiped a dirty knife on his smock. "Must have slipped my mind."
Yavena rolled her eyes as she faced Djel Sannes once again. She reached out—he flinched as her hand neared his face. But Yavena did not intend to hurt him. She merely wiped away a faint trail of blood cascading down his cheek and raised his chin so he could look her directly in the eye. "Make no mistake, Djel Sannes, we do have questions for you. I can think of four, right off the bat: where are Eren and Historia? Why are you after Historia? Why are you after Eren? And what's the importance of the Reiss family?"
He stared at her, unwavering.
"Mr. Sannes, please. We don't want to hurt you any more than we have already, but we will if we have to. You'd save yourself a lot of pain answering these questions now."
But Djel Sannes did not answer. He merely took a deep, shuddering breath, and stared lifelessly back into her own eyes.
Yavena knew that there would be no getting anything out of him; or at least, not without a little more incentive. She clucked her tongue once and stepped back, looking to Levi and gesturing loosely in Sannes's direction.
He stepped forward again, holding something in his right hand. It appeared to be a wrench. Levi seized Sannes's hand and placed one of his fingers within its grasp before squeezing and twisting.
Sannes yelled out in pain and anger; it was even more disturbing to see the look upon his face. But Yavena kept her eyes focused upon him. She may not have the stomach to hurt the man herself, but she would not shy away from watching Levi do it. She needed to be stronger, to be intimidating… to get their answers.
A crack bounced off of the walls of the cell. Another broken finger.
"Where are they?" demanded Levi. But he did not wait for Sannes to answer. He discarded the wrench within his hand in favor of some pliers, forcing the man's mouth open and grasping at one of his teeth.
Yavena kept her eyes trained ahead, though in truth, she allowed herself to stare a million meters away instead of actively watch the process. In a sick and twisted way, this was almost reminding her of a morbid version of a doctor's office, even though their two purposes could not be more opposite of one another. Either way, her stomach lurched unpleasantly as Sannes's agonized moans rebounded through the cellar, assaulting her ears.
The door slammed open behind them, prompting both Levi and Yavena to turn around. It was Hange, who cried, "Sorry I'm late!" as she strode into the cell. "What have I missed?"
"Not much," said Yavena, casting a dispassionate look back to Sannes.
"Nothing yet, then?" asked Hange with a frown.
Levi shook his head. "Not yet. I'm pretty new to this."
"Ah. Well, then! You should know I'm also a novice at human torture, so please bear with me!" exclaimed Hange. She walked forth to grab some of the tools that were arrayed across a board in the middle of the cell. After poring over all of the instruments at her disposal, Hange chose one that had a drill at the point and sauntered back over to Sannes. "Shall we?"
The two of them went to work while Yavena stood in the corner of the room, her lips downturned and her arms folded across her chest. Like Levi, Hange was not shying away from causing pain; in fact, the screams almost seemed to be louder when Hange took over. Yavena could only suppose this was their way of venting their anger and desperation—and in Hange's case, vengeance for the murdered man who had done his best to help them.
After every round of torture, they would allow Yavena to ask him questions. She found more things to ask, such as, "Why were Eren and Historia targeted now, of all times?" or, "It's possible you don't even know the answers to what we're asking. If you can't tell us these things, who can?"
But just like he had with the other questions, Sannes did not answer.
Seconds turned into minutes, and then Yavena had lost track of time. Purple welts decorated Sannes's face, clashing with the red of his blood. Five of his teeth were missing; four of his fingers were broken; three of his fingernails peeled away.
And still, the man had not broken.
"Sorry that I can't peel nails as well as you," sighed Hange, brushing her hair away from her forehead. "Just how many did you peel to get so good?"
For the first time in a long while, Sannes spoke. "Too many to count," he said, little more than a rasp. But then he glared up at the three of them again, with the same hatred and tired resolve as before. "Within these cramped Walls, do you know why war has never broken out? It's because the First Interior Squad dirtied our hands to protect the peace. A teacher too smart for their own good… a stupid couple who tried to fly… a whore from some ranch in the sticks! Humanity has only made it this far because we erased them! You should be thanking us! I've never seen anyone get more pleasure out of torture than you two—you're monsters! And you!" With this last, he glared back to Yavena, who watched him with emotionless eyes. "You're just a coward. Willing to ask the questions, but not willing to get your hands dirty."
For a moment, Hange, Levi, and Yavena simply stood, staring bemusedly at the man.
But then Yavena stepped forward, a leer upon her face. Something dark had opened up in her heart; that swirling vortex of black that seemed to consume every aspect of her soul. It was the same feeling she'd had when firing cannons into the Titans at Trost District, while fighting the quadruped Titan on the way to the old headquarters, when trying to break open the Female Titan's crystal.
She stepped forth, lowered her face to be within mere centimeters of Sannes's own, and whispered, "You want me to get my hands dirty? Let me tell you something, Djel. I am not normally one to make close friends very often. But somehow, impossibly, I made five incredible friends; and I lost four of them in a single day only a few short months ago. I carry their names with me everywhere I go, because I can hardly stand the thought of being anywhere without them."
She seized Djel's jaw and began to squeeze; her hand was trembling, and yet the corners of her mouth were slowly creeping upwards. "Eren Jaeger is the only one of those five to survive that day. He is one of four people that I hold dearest to my heart. And now, you and your soldiers have taken him from me."
Her other hand clasped around Djel's throat, crushing his wind-pipe. Yavena did not care that he was beginning to gasp, desperate for breath. Her own mania was driving her now, and neither Levi nor Hange would stop her from speaking her piece. "My friends mean more to me than you could ever imagine. So when I say that I will do anything—anything—to save Eren, to have him back by my side, then you'd better believe I mean it. If you want me to get my hands dirty, then I will. But before I do, I will ask you one more time, for your own sake more than anything else: Where. Is. Eren. Jaeger?"
Yavena forced her hand away from his throat, despite how badly she wished to keep it pressed there, to force him to pass out and choke on his own spit. Her dark eyes stared into his, knowing full well that he could see the mania there. Now she was the one yelling. "WHERE IS HE?"
No answer.
She did not wait. Yavena raised her knee and bashed it directly into Sannes's face. Blood squired out of his nose, staining her pants—she did not care. She collided his face with her knee again. Then to his chest; then into his stomach. Her hands were clasped around his throat as she stomped and kicked and punched at every bit of skin that she could see, because all she could think about was Eren and how, despite Levi's reassurance earlier that afternoon, it was possible she would never see him again.
Yavena knew that her screams were mingling with Sannes's with each blow she landed, but it was not something she could help. It was like a revenant had possessed her, some odd spirit full of hatred and fury and desperation. "Where is Eren? Tell me where he is! GIVE ME AN ANSWER!"
Over and over, until someone grabbed her raised arm, still enclosed within a fist, and pulled her back.
It was Levi, whose silver eyes were exhibiting that careful neutrality. "Time for a break," he said.
Yavena exhaled sharply, glaring back to the battered and beaten man in front of her. She had definitely left marks on him; marks that would not go away anytime soon. Based on the ragged way he was breathing, she had been close to knocking him unconscious. Even though rage continued to course through her, she was no longer so fully consumed to realize that Levi had stopped her for a reason.
"Fine," she spat. Then she turned on her heels and began to leave the cell.
She did not check to see if Hange and Levi were following after her; she burst into the main floor of the house to see Armin, Sasha, Jean, Mikasa, and Conny were all awaiting her approach. Sasha gasped and threw a hand to her mouth upon laying eyes on Yavena—Jean had blanched as well.
Yavena glanced down. Her hands and clothes were spattered in blood.
"Damn it," she whispered. She crossed into the kitchen of the house and began splashing some water across the new stains, doing what she could to wipe them off.
Tears stung her eyes as she did this; a horrid well of guilt was blossoming within her chest as she stared at the mixed scarlet, crimson, and ruby colors upon her clothes. Djel Sannes's screams had been seared into her memory, as had the picture of his beaten, broken face. And part of that had been because of her; because she was so desperate to find Eren again, she was so worried about him that she was willing to bestow unimaginable pain and terror upon a stranger in exchange.
A sob escaped her mouth—she promptly threw a hand to cover the sound. But it was too late; her squad-mates had already heard it. Yavena could feel their eyes boring into the back of her skull as she leaned over the countertops and wiped at her face, unable to keep her shoulders from shaking.
Footsteps approached, and then someone had placed their hand upon Yavena's shoulder; her eyes widened to see it was Mikasa. The young woman's countenance as calm as ever, she said, "Captain, blood is seeping through your bandages."
Yavena glanced down. Sure enough, Mikasa was right. There were a few red splotches upon the second of her three shirts; it was clear that she had overstrained herself while laying into Sannes. With a defeated sigh, she repeated, "Damn it."
Before she could move, however, Mikasa stepped forth and grabbed a wet handkerchief and a new roll of gauze. "Keep standing," she said.
The next few minutes were spent with Mikasa carefully tending to Yavena's newly reopened wounds. Yavena was grateful for three things: the first that she was still wearing that green binding around her breasts from earlier in the afternoon, the second that Mikasa was being so careful, and the third that Levi was not yet present, for surely he'd give her a look that screamed 'I told you so.'
As the two women stood in the kitchen, the others soon joined them. Once they were all gathered with those same bleak looks from earlier, Yavena was once again aware of the balloon of remorse reaching up for her.
"I'm sorry," she said, though she was unable to look any of her squad-mates in the eye. "You probably think me a hypocrite, and you wouldn't be incorrect. Only an hour ago, I was trying to tell you that we must press on… and while I still hold to that, I wish I was stronger so I could… could set an example."
Armin crossed the room. He filled the two kettles with water again before turning back to her and saying, "With all due respect, Captain… the fact that you feel guilty makes me feel better. It's proof that you haven't lost your humanity."
Yavena blinked as the other three nodded in agreement. Something lifted from her shoulders upon seeing Sasha's, Conny's, and Jean's saddened smiles.
Just as Armin finished making everyone tea and Mikasa was finishing up changing Yavena's bandages, there was another scream from downstairs.
All six of them looked back to the doorway. Yavena couldn't keep herself from frowning. "So much for taking a break," she muttered, lifting her teacup and taking a small sip.
No one seemed to have anything to say to that. They simply followed in her lead, redirecting their attentions to their beverages.
It took only a few more minutes before Hange and Levi reappeared. The moment that Levi ascended the stairs and noted that everyone was congregated around the kitchen table, he froze, his silver eyes upon Yavena, whose shirt had not yet been buttoned up again. Then his gaze flickered towards the bloodstained bandages within Mikasa's hands.
Before anyone could say a word, Levi stormed over to the other side of the room. Everyone scampered out of his way; he pulled a chair out from the table, and—still glaring at Yavena—pointed to it.
Yavena sighed and sat. There would be no arguing with that face. She'd only seen Levi wear it a few times, and the aftermath from anyone who continued to push their luck was never pretty.
Trying to escape this fearsome glare, Yavena directed her eyes towards Hange and said, "Sorry about that. I got carried away… almost made us wine."
Hange chuckled at the morbid joke, but there was no mirthful gleam in her eyes. "Don't be. Your actions may have helped pave the way to our success, as it were." She held out a slip of paper, upon which a script of some sort was written. "Levi and I were able to make this while you, ah… kept him busy."
She held out the script to Yavena, who took it and looked over its contents. It seemed to be some sort of interaction between Levi, Hange, and someone else.
"Sannes came with a subordinate named Ralph," said Hange, noting the confused expression on her friend's face. "We thought emotional manipulation might prove to be a more useful form of extracting answers than physical torture. But it also doesn't hurt to have the threat of you losing control hanging over his head like that."
Yavena handed the parchment back to Hange. "Were you already able to put this into place? Or are we going to have to go at it again and wait for an opportunity to do so?"
"You are not going to do anything," said Levi, his voice sharp. "You're going to sit here and rest." Even though he sounded angry, when he placed a hand upon Yavena's shoulder, it was not a terse or forceful gesture. "Mikasa. How badly were her wounds bleeding?"
Mikasa's dark eyes flickered between Yavena and Levi. And then she answered, "Not that badly, Captain."
Even though Yavena knew that Mikasa was lying on her behalf, it did not seem that Levi picked up on it. His thumb unconsciously made small, circular gestures upon her back, hidden so that no one else could notice. He did not say anything in response to Mikasa's testimony.
Hange and Levi remained upstairs for only ten minutes or so, and no one spoke for the entire time. Everyone was simply gathered around, drinking tea, attempting to take what strength they could from company. Yavena spent this time thinking: and only after a few more minutes, came to the conclusion that while she did feel guilty for what she had done to Sannes, she had still meant what she'd said.
She would do anything to get Eren back.
Right when Yavena had thought this to herself, Hange stretched and rose from her chair, saying, "Let's go see if our gamble paid off. Come on, Levi."
Levi said nothing, though he too rose from his chair and glared at the rest of the squad. It was a clear message, an order: they were to keep Yavena sitting and not let her overexert herself. Then he too descended the stairwell.
Only a few minutes passed before they returned, and now with tense shoulders and incredulous looks striking their faces.
Yavena noticed this change instantly. Leaning forward in her chair—which she hadn't dared to move from for fear of Levi giving her a lecture—she asked, "You've learned something. What is it?"
Looking as though she was actually leagues away, Hange said, "The current king is a fake. Reiss is the real royal family."
"Huhh?" exclaimed Sasha, her dark eyes widening. The other members of Squad Levi seemed just as startled by the news as she had been, Yavena included. In her case, however, she kept that shock restrained purely to the depths of her eyes.
Armin paled as he took a hesitant step forward. "So you're saying… that the true royal successor… is Historia?"
"Aye. And that also means both Eren and Historia are likely are wherever Rod Reiss is," said Hange.
There was a thwack from the table. Levi had just slammed down a poster of the man in question; Rod Reiss did not quite strike Yavena as royalty so much as he did every man she'd associate with a lord of Wall Sina or Wall Rose. He was depicted as wearing a fancy suit-jacket and an expensive hat, with a thin mustache.
"That's him," said Levi, clearly holding back a number of remarks regarding the man's pompous appearance.
"Historia told us that his lands are to the north of Wall Sina," said Yavena, narrowing her eyes. "Do you think it possible that he, Eren, and Historia are currently somewhere within Orvud District?"
Hange sighed, placing a hand upon her chin. She did not take the cup of tea that Jean had placed in her vicinity. "It's possible. But we don't have time to speculate or be wrong. Eren was taken only this morning, but based on a conversation that he transcribed for me… if we don't hurry and get him back, Eren is going to be eaten."
Something exploded in Yavena's mind; a blindingly white light seared across her vision. She threw a hand to cover her eyes, hardly able to process the news. Her mouth was dry, her fingers trembling—it was like she had been thrown straight into the sun, and was burning from the inside-out.
Armin gasped. "Eren is going to be eaten?"
"Aye," Hange said. She lowered her gaze and took something out of her pocket, placing it carefully upon the table. It was the little slip of paper that Eren had given her just the night before.
Yavena and the others leaned forth to get a good look. There were only a few words written:
Ymir: Do you resent me for it?
Bertholdt: I… don't know. You probably didn't want to eat a human either.
Noting that everyone else was staring at her with wide eyes, Hange sighed, adjusted her glasses, and quietly mused, "If we speculate based on that, Ymir was a Titan outside the Wall. Bertholdt, Reiner, and Annie had a comrade that she ate. When a Titan eats someone, they don't change back into a human—but what if a Titan ate one of Reiner's comrades? They're humans who can transform into Titans."
Yavena exhaled slowly. The searing of fear had gone, to make way for that horrid balloon of guilt once again. If they didn't hurry… if they didn't find Eren soon… he would be eaten. And it would be her fault, for not having grabbed him when she'd had the chance.
Despite knowing this, when she looked towards Levi again… she could not make herself feel like she had made the wrong decision. He could've been killed had she not changed her direction, and leaving Levi to his own devices was not a risk that Yavena had been willing to take.
And yet, that almost made it worse: knowing that no matter how badly it hurt, that Yavena could not—or would not—regret her decision to save Levi over Eren, even under threat of Eren being eaten.
She sighed and clutched her fists to her chest.
Some friend she was.
"In other words, if a Titan eats someone with that power, they revert back into a human," Hange continued with a sigh, her voice hauling Yavena back to the present. "Furthermore, they obtain the power of those they eat. In the other day's battle, Reiner was throwing Titans at Eren, who had escaped. Eren has the power to control Titans with his scream—Reiner was trying to snatch that power with those Titans. In that case, Eren is just a vessel who is bound to be replaced. If the government has a Titan of their own… they'll be the one to eat Eren."
With these last few sentences, Mikasa's face had grown stony. She turned towards the door as though to leave—but Yavena grabbed her hand and stared into her dark eyes. Yavena did not say anything; she knew that Mikasa saw just how worried she was for Eren as well, and exactly how dedicated she would be in retrieving Eren once more. Especially now that Yavena knew she had made her choice: she needed to make up for it somehow.
Mikasa's expression was still hard.
"Keep your calm," said Levi, his eyes narrowed as he watched the two women. "Even if you go on a rampage, they're not going to give Eren back to us. We need to ride for the lands of this Rod Reiss. Get ready to leave at once."
"Aye!" everyone shouted; within seconds, all of the Squad Levi members from the 104th were gone, leaving Hange, Levi, and Yavena still in the kitchen.
The members of Squad Levi were gathering their things, preparing the horses, and checking in on one another. It was looking to be another sleepless night, not that Yavena was surprised or would argue with the decision. Her fists clenched at her side as the fact sunk in: they were now on a time-crunch to rescue Eren.
"I'll go tell Erwin what we learned about the Reiss family. I'm sure he's waiting to hear from us," said Hange. She rose from the table and grabbed her cloak from the back of her chair, sweeping it over her shoulders.
"Right," said Levi.
"We can meet up on Reiss's land."
Levi nodded again, but did not say anything this time.
As Hange was heading towards the doorway, however, she looked back to Yavena and managed a small smile. "How is it that two days ago, you were almost shot, and today, you were shot?" She sighed and shook her head before walking back to the table and giving Yavena a quick embrace.
"It's a gift. I can see things before they happen," joked Yavena, though she grabbed onto Hange's arm and nestled her head underneath her friend's chin.
She was met with an exasperated smile; one that cracked through Yavena's discomfort. No matter what adversity lay ahead, she could always count on Hange to make things at least a little better.
"Take care of her, Levi," said Hange, lifting a delicate eyebrow. "I expect her to be in one piece when I see you next."
He sighed and rolled his eyes. "I don't think that will be up to me."
Hange chuckled; Yavena soon joined in. They looked at one another again, and Yavena took the opportunity to say, "Give Erwin my best. Something tells me that Rod Reiss and his Interior Military Police are going to try and make life hard for us in the Scout Regiment. And be careful."
"I will," said Hange. The bridge of her nose was wrinkled in a determined yet concerned frown; a look that suggested she was leagues away. But then she squeezed Yavena's shoulder and was off.
The door was shut with a hasty slam. Outside, Jean and Sasha were bickering at each other to get a move on and saddle up the horses because they needed to get moving—Armin was charging through the house, hauling their bags outside, barely able to see over the giant pile of supplies.
"You will ride with me," said Levi, not as an offer or a question, but as an order. "And you will attempt to rest as well as you are able. We will be traveling through most of the night."
Yavena looked up at him to see that he was crossing to the window, glancing out at the night sky. She could see his silver eyes reflected in the glass pane; he seemed to be searching for something… likely for any sign that someone was watching them, just as that single member from the Interior Military Police had a few nights ago.
"I don't think the Interior Military Police knows we're here," she said in an attempt to reassure him. There was nothing to indicate that their position was compromised; no worms in her stomach were wriggling like they had the last time there had been an unwelcome visitor. "Although I wouldn't be surprised if they find out we were here in a few days."
Levi nodded without looking back at her.
Figuring it was safe enough now, Yavena rose to her feet and joined him. She saw her own face staring back at her: dark eyes, thin lips, pale skin. She wriggled her nose as if to test that it was really her—and of course it was.
But after all that had happened through the course of the day, after everything that she had done… killed, tortured… it was surprising, to see that she still looked the exact same.
Despite her somber attitude, next to her, Levi's face had a slight upturn upon it. "What's so funny?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.
He smirked. "The last time you did that, you were disguised as Hange."
An irritable sigh escaped her; she placed a hand to her head, having quite forgotten about the less-than-convincing disguise that Erwin had prevailed upon her to wear only a few weeks ago. Once more, Yavena was stunned by how quickly things were moving—after going through so much together, it felt as though she had known Eren for years… but it hadn't even been four months.
Disconcerted by the realization, Yavena pushed those thoughts aside and returned to the topic of conversation at hand: her impossible disguise. It was certainly better than thinking about the day's events. Rolling her eyes, she muttered, "I still can't believe the first time I ever heard you laugh, it was at me."
"It was hard to take you seriously. Especially when you were doing such a fine impersonation of a rabbit."
That made Yavena grin, even if the gesture was slightly unwilling.
A sudden crash outside broke her concentration—she started and peered out the window to see that Jean was berating Conny for having dropped some of the supplies. Armin and Mikasa were already hard at work picking them up, while Sasha was doing what she could not to laugh.
Levi scoffed. "Tch. Miscreants."
"Like it or not, they're your miscreants now."
He glared at her. "They're just as much yours as they are mine. You're the one who decided to get all chummy with them."
Yavena did not have a retort to this, because he was right. But as she watched Conny make a face at Jean behind his back and noted the way that Armin was trying to keep from smiling, she could not help but smile herself.
Just as she was about to turn away from the window and go assist with the last of the departure preparations, something in the reflection of the windowpane caught her eye. It was the door that led to the cellar. Glancing sideways at Levi, she asked, "What will we do with Djel Sannes and his friend?"
"Leave them here. As you pointed out, it's likely the Interiors will know that we've been here in a few days and rescue them."
While this was a reasonable enough answer, Yavena could not help but worry that maybe her guesses were not correct; after all, if she was wrong, that meant Sannes and his subordinate would rot away in the tiny cell until they thirsted or starved to death.
That feeling was back again, that distressing guilt. It was as though she was about to be sick, without actually suffering the wooziness of nausea. Her eyes were fixed upon the door in the reflection… without meaning to, she blurted out, "Would you be against me tossing them the keys, once we are clearly ready to leave? They would be in no position to follow us."
Levi's expression did not change. He leaned sideways against the window and remarked, "This from the woman who would've beaten Sannes to a pulp without a second thought."
She sighed and looked down, biting the inside of her lip. "Maybe," she admitted. "But not without remorse after the fact. I lost control, yes: because I care about Eren and as I said earlier, am willing to do anything to get him back."
Yavena swallowed hard and placed a hand upon her jacket pocket, but there was not much comfort to be found from the gesture after all that had happened during the day. "I killed people today, Levi. I laid into Sannes, too, with the wish and intention of causing him pain. Murder, torture… These are two things that I never would've expected to do, ever in my life. For so long, all we've fought against have been Titans: not even in my darkest dreams did I ever think we'd be fighting people, but I will still continue with what we're doing. I've defended and doubled down on our actions today because I believe that in the end, we will be vindicated for them. But after all that, choosing to leave Sannes and his friend here, subjecting them to the risk of starvation…"
She trailed off, uncertain with what exactly she wished to say. Yavena simply looked back up from the ground and into Levi's eyes. "I just can't help but feel like… like it's different."
He mirrored her expression and kept his arms crossed, clearly unwilling to be the first to look away. He watched her carefully, prying into her own eyes—and Yavena, exhausted as she was from the day's events, found herself unable to put up any walls.
But then he stopped, and took a slow breath. "Tell me what you're thinking. Why do you want to set them free?"
Despite the tragic situations that surrounded Squad Levi, the unyielding pressure squeezing her body, Yavena found herself unable to resist the slightest pull of her lips. He was making an active effort to talk: to communicate.
Slightly reinvigorated by this discovery, she answered, "In truth? A lot of it stems from my own guilt about what I did. I know that it could be construed as necessary, but that does not make it easier to swallow. I'm hoping that, in some arbitrary way… setting them free might help me feel better."
"It would be risky. Sannes could send his lackey to follow us, and put the rest of us in jeopardy. Would you risk that for your own conscience?"
She sighed and looked down to her hands. Fortunately, the bloodstains were gone; there was no tangible reminder of her brutality from earlier in the evening, at least.
Yavena glanced back outside the window to see Armin, Sasha, Jean, Conny, and Mikasa all continuing their preparations for leaving this second house. There were a variety of emotions running across their persons, some of them restrained, some rampant and free. But in one thing they were all the same: they were following orders with a desperate haste, ready to do what they needed to do.
That had always been the mark of a good soldier: the ability to commit oneself to do what needed to be done. That was one of the things Yavena prized so highly about herself; the way that she was able to put aside all of her personal feelings to do what was best for humanity.
In a way, what she had done today—killing five people and torturing another—constituted as the same thing. It had to be done.
So it was time to stop feeling guilty. After all, Yavena still had five young squad-mates to look after and protect, and Levi was with her as well.
"No. No, I would not," she finally answered, looking back to Levi.
He nodded; some of the tension left his shoulders. "Good," he said, and now one or two of those shields, those layers, was gone from his eyes. "You will have to push past it. Just as we have done in the past."
While the words themselves were not comforting, it was the way in which they were said that brought Yavena some additional peace of mind. It was a statement of solidarity: one that said she was not alone, and that like they had so many times, they could push past their doubts together.
Before she found the words to reply, Levi reached out and placed a careful hand upon the side of her face. He rested his forehead against her own for the briefest of moments before saying, "The world is a cruel place. And we will have to fight back against it."
Then he moved away.
Yavena smiled somewhat at the reminder. Her fingers were still positioned over the jacket pocket, within which her tangible reminders of their friends were resting. While their presence had not brought comfort to her earlier, with Levi's words now, with this remembrance… she once again found that familiar tranquility.
Grateful for his interjection, for his help, Yavena leaned forward and kissed his temple.
"Disgusting," Levi said, beginning to turn away.
But she was not fooled. She noted the light that had run through his eyes at her gesture. "Shall I do it again?"
"Yes."
So she did, and her smile grew more distinguishable.
"Come on," said Levi. He grabbed Yavena's cloak and draped it around her shoulders. "We should get moving."
Knowing that he was right, she moved to follow him outside. Even though the bitter winter air was quick to greet her, Yavena would not recoil. She knew that each step she took to the north was one step closer to Eren, and until he was with them yet again, she would do whatever else needed to be done.