Chapter 6.5 – Sweet Tooth
Hange was not a fan of most of their new duties, but the review of recruit applications was her most hated task by far. The influx of requests to join the scouts had grown massively over the past year. The people's attention moved from titan fighting to defending Paradis from the outside world. A part of her missed when only those brave enough to venture beyond the walls applied for the scouts – the threat of titans seemed so manageable in comparison to what they had to worry about now. As she flitted through the papers, she wished to memorise each and every name like she used to, but the number was overwhelming. Things were no longer simple. They craved simple.
Hange put her head in her hands, wishing to tease out the stress in her head with her fingertips. It was not often she wanted to be alone with her frustrations, but a sour meeting had left her deflated. A knock at the office door failed to rouse her, continuing to stare at her desk.
"Not now, Levi," Hange muttered, assuming her visitor. She heard a quiet clearing of a throat that certainly did not belong to Levi Ackerman. The familiar visage of Levi balancing a large basket of freshly washed laundry in his arms was replaced by Cynthia. She had one knee brought up underneath the basket to distribute the weight while waiting on confirmation she could enter.
"Oh. Cynthia," she said dumbly. The woman's appearance was much less dishevelled than when they last spoke – her thin silvery hair was in a long braid reaching the middle of her back, the shorter pieces that usually framed her face pulled back. The skin of her sunkissed face was less sullen than usual, a healthy flush of pink in her cheeks. Her eyes still held weight, however, unfocused and sad.
"Yes. It's me. Where do I put this?" Cynthia asked flatly, referring to the basket of uniforms.
"My room. Upstairs," Hange said, a smile pulling at her lips. Cynthia reflected it, breathing life into the room. Cute, Hange thought unhelpfully. Too many unhelpful thoughts as of late.
"Soooo not your office?" Cynthia asked sarcastically.
"Not my office", Hange laughed slightly.
"Where is your room again?"
"You can leave them here if you like; I'll take them with me later."
"I'm inclined to not believe that. Just tell me where." Cynthia pushed back.
Recruits rarely had the gall to speak to her in such a way these days, being Commander and all. Another element she missed being a captain. Only Levi would say such a thing, making her wonder what impressions he had left on Cynthia. He probably told her she couldn't take care of herself, she bet.
"You're likely right," Hange conceded, "Don't worry about it."
"You made it my job to worry," Cynthia said, a sudden sharpness to her words. Hange met her gaze, recognising frustration. Right, she wouldn't be stuck with you if she had a choice. All because of a stupid drawing.
"Right. In the East wing, third left," Hange said flatly, trying not to sound disappointed to see her leave. Her eyes shifted between the paperwork and Cynthia as she turned to leave.
"Can I ask you something? Real quick, I promise," Hange said.
"Yes?" Cynthia asked somewhat dully.
"How old were you when you were conscripted?" Hange asked, unable to help her curiosity in Marley once more. Or was it her curiosity in Cynthia, she wondered. The woman's jaw clenched, but she turned her attention to Hange, basket still balanced in her grip.
"Sixteen, no older than your squad", Cynthia answered quietly. Hange had expected the answer, but it didn't pain her any less.
"So it's the same across the ocean. Our youth are so expendable," Hange said sourly. She could see a young Cynthia so plainly, unscared, fresh-faced in her mind. More alive. Hange swore she saw it once, the sparkle of intrigue that hid underneath Cynthia's stiff exterior, and it was when they were standing in the plains, watching a rabbit seeking shelter from the wind. Such wonder over something so inconsequential made her heart arche. She wanted to see it again, capture it and keep it. It was when the ashen haired woman was at her prettiest.
"It's different here," Cynthia said. Hange stared at her, wordlessly prompting her to continue. "The kids here… they chose this. Freely"
"Is it really a choice if they feel like it's this or obliteration?" Hange said sadly. 'Obliteration' was a heavy word, but no other sufficed.
"If you're questioning if you're any better than Marley, you should know – The fact you care enough to make the comparison means you are better. By miles," Cynthia said, her words soft. Hange was surprised, considering Cynthia's predicament.
"Seems contradictory, coming from you," Hange said. Cynthia should hate Paradis. Hate her. But she got the impression she didn't.
"My life is kind of a mess right now. Contradiction is the least of my worries," Cynthia sighed, thinking over her words, begrudgingly saying, "It's good. That you care enough."
That put a smile on Hange's face. She couldn't help it.
"Thank you. For trusting me." Hange said, the stupid grin still stuck on her face.
"You don't like being Commander, do you, Hange?" Cynthia asked suddenly. It threw Hange off their guard - what little of one they had anyway. The way Cynthia said her name was direct, like a blinding light in her eyes – it woke her up, her heart beating faster. The promise of understanding on her lips was intoxicating. Say my name again.
"I'll admit, trying to determine the potential medicinal properties of titan snot was much more fun than this. But it has to be done. It's a burden, but one I have to live up to," Hange explained.
"I'm sure the person who passed on the position chose you for a reason," Cynthia offered. Hange scoffed, a strange feeling overcoming her at the thought of Erwin. Loss. Heartache. Longing.
"They were a fool to pass it to me. A brilliant fool, but a fool nonetheless," Hange said quietly, her anguish ill-disguised.
"I'm sorry. They must have been important to you," Cynthia said, words sweet. How was she so god-damned sweet? And strong too – she had been holding that basket for a while now.
"He was… I miss him. I try to honor his memory everyday, to make up for the loss. It just never feels like enough," Hange said, chewing her lip in thought. Her words must have unsettled Cynthia, who was suddenly restless and brooding.
"Hange?" Cynthia asked slowly, "The night we met, the Marley man I was with on the beach. What happened to him?"
Hange searched her eyes, seeing a spark of fury buried behind icy iries. At the time she hadn't questioned why Cynthia had targeted that soilder – she couldn't even remember his name now. Whatever greivence he had casued her, Hange was certain she was thinking about it now. She could not help her inquistiviness. Maybe he was the one who conscripted her. Or maybe they friends and he betrayed her? Maybe an old lover? She's too pretty for that old fart.
"Why do you want to know?" Hange asked, wanting to treat Cynthia like a multi layered candy – to suck on her until she reached the sweet centre.
"I… I followed him here. To honor someone's memory." Cynthia said, eyes averted. Too crypitic. Though she could guess.
"He hurt someone you care about?" Hange asked quietly. Cynthia simply nodded, not interested in elaborating.
"He's now in the custordy of the milatry police. He's either working for the volunteers, or inside of a prision cell. I wouldn't worry about him anymore" Hange said, trying to be reassuring. Cynthia processed the info, face sour.
"Good" she eventually said.