Chapter 2: Humanity's Hottest Gets Wiped

Day 1

"The first thing you should know about Humanity's Hottest, Lance Corporal Levi Ackerman, is that he loves cleaning. He will dust the walls until the paint peels off and mop the floors until the tiles squeak for him to stop. It is unclear where the corporal's obsession with cleaning stems from, but rumour has it that his former lover, a poor but beautiful tavern cleaner, left him a cleaning cloth as a final memento that he's carried with him ever since. The corporal is also highly efficient. On one occasion, he single-handedly transformed an abandoned castle into a sparkling haven with a mop, a duster, and one bucket of water. Jesus with his five loaves and two fish would be jealous."

Picture: A headshot of Levi gazing sternly at the camera, his cravat tied elegantly around his neck.

Picture caption: The corporal's cleaning cloth, fashionably employed.

Levi stared at the column intently. The photo was a genuine one this time, but the stories in the segment were entirely made up. He swore that whomever it was sending these humiliating falsehoods to the press would die a painful death.

"Good morning heichou!" His new squad was filing into the mess hall, breakfast trays in hand, for their morning briefing. Meaning to avoid unnecessary comments, Levi tossed the newspaper under the table and out of sight. Unfortunately, his sleight of hand was rusty.

"Heichou, did you drop something?" Connie asked, firing mouth before neurons.

"No." Levi glared at Connie, willing him to ask more stupid questions. Connie took the hint and kept his mouth shut. When all were seated at the table, Levi spoke again.

"Today we'll help the Garrison squad along the southern part of Wall Rose. They need to make repairs, but to do that we will first need to clear out the rubble from the last titan attack and give them access. We will also give the surfaces a quick clean." The squad groaned in unison. Wall cleaning was unpleasant because it was dull and time-consuming. It was also a necessary evil, since dirt and moss could stop their grappling hooks from attaching effectively.

"Why can't the military police do it? They do nothing but strut on their horses all day," Jean grumbled.

"I agree with you there, Kirstein. But the squads need to work together to keep the titans out. We were told to help clean the walls, so we'll do our duties without question," Levi said.

There was nothing more to say on the matter, so conversation turned to pleasantries such as the nice weather, the latest win of Team Rosia in the football league, and the news. Speaking of the news…

"Levi Heichou, I heard you're doing a week-long segment with the Trost Tribute about yourself?" Connie's voice again.

Stupid, ill-informed brat. Levi tried to shut it down quickly. "I'm not."

This time, Connie didn't get the hint. "Well, you're featured in a column in the newspaper, they even gave you a title! What was it…ah…"

"Humanity's Hottest."

All heads turned to stare down the end of the table at Mikasa, who sported a deadpan expression. Water spurted from Eren's nose.

To Levi's chagrin, things got even worse. "Oh yeah, that's the one! But there was another nickname they gave you in the picture caption – "

"Chibi."

"No – "

"Strawberry boy." Armin was patting Eren's back. The blonde boy's face was shielded from view, but his frame was shaking suspiciously. Sasha stuffed a fist into her mouth, tears streaming down her face.

"Though we know the picture wasn't actually of you – "

"It was close enough." The table roared.

"Jaeger, stuff your snot back into your nose. Arlert, stop shaking like you've got dysfunctional ODM gear up your ass. Braus, self-cannibalism is a good contingency in the absence of meat. You're beyond saving Springer, but Ackerman, raise your intelligence by reading more sophisticated material," Levi shot.

"The Trost Tribute is the military's stock newspaper, which I read to stay updated with current affairs. There was more about you in this morning's one, but you tossed that to the floor when we came in." Mikasa said.

Gloomy brat. Levi directed another glare at Mikasa, who gave him her best 'I don't give a crap' look. Did the corner of her mouth just twitch?

Levi knew when he was beat. "We leave in ten," he snapped, stood up, and left his tittering squad.

The Scouts spent the morning helping the Garrison clear rubble. Although it was hard work, they moved efficiently, and the last of the rubble was cleared just before noon. After a quick lunch, pulley systems were used to haul platforms carrying cleaning supplies up the walls. The Scout and Garrison squads worked together to clean, and to foster camaraderie between the divisions they paired off, one Scout and one Garrison member, and divvied up the wall into sections to expedite the long task ahead of them.

Levi had looked forward to the cleaning. It served to keep his squad busy and provided a nice distraction from the horrific things he'd read about himself that morning. In the afternoon, he was paired with Emilius Nilsson, a red-bearded, robust man standing at six foot three. Levi remembered meeting him once at a social event and recalled with chagrin the man's lack of respect for personal space and his inexplicable obsession with fame.

His memory was vindicated as he was ambushed with an inappropriate bear hug by the soldier and asked about the triumphs, trials, and tribulations of being both Humanity's Strongest and Humanity's Hottest. Restraining the urge to beat his partner to a pulp, Levi promptly relegated Emilius to the farthest segment of their assigned wall section to avoid further undesirable interactions.

As he settled into his task, Levi admitted that the infernal article did get two things right about him. The first was that he enjoyed cleaning, and the second was his efficiency at it. He darted from one end of the wall to the other, eagle eyes scanning for cakes of dirt and grime. He scoured and scrubbed at the stone, allowing the soothing repetitiveness of the chore to numb his mind and help him regain some semblance of normality.

The rest of the day would have passed without incident had Emilius not peered over the wall as they loaded the cleaning equipment onto the platforms. "Hey, it looks like there's a crowd gathered over there – it looks like they're waving at us!" Levi's heart sank and he tried to pull the giant from sight, but it was too late. "Hullo, what's happening over there!"

Like a scene from a cartoon, the crowd made its way with surprising speed towards the wall, leaving a large cloud of dust in its wake. A sea of women gathered beneath Levi and Emilius.

"It's Humanity's Hottest!"

"We love you, Lance Corporal Levi!"

"You're our hero!"

Levi reached for the handgrip of his ODM gear, but his hand was arrested by Emilius'. Emilius used his free hand to wave to the crowd. "Hello ladies! Lance Corporal Levi is so pleased you all came to see him. What do you want from him?"

"His passion!"

"His love!"

"His cleaning cloth!"

At the last suggestion, the crowd screamed.

The first two were beyond Emilius' ability to give, but the latter certainly was not. "Levi, throw your cravat to them. They'll go wild!"

"That's exactly what I want to avoid," Levi hissed back, livid. "Wait, what?"

"Your cravat!"

The image from the morning newspaper and its fanciful caption shot into Levi's head.

"You're kidding. Let go, now!" Levi snarled and pulled back, but was soon to learn that under some conditions, humanity's strongest do not always conquer humanity's biggest.

Emilius' eyes flashed with hunger. Hand still wrapped painfully around Levi's wrist, Emilius leant closer to the corporal's face until his lips hovered next to Levi's ear.

"I know the cleaning cloth story is fabricated, but they don't," he whispered huskily.

"Cut it with the bad puns and let go!" Levi struggled, but his partner held a vice grip.

"I'll get you another cravat and we can make it mean something." Levi felt a tap on his buttocks, and Emilius' meaning hit home.

He froze, his brain processing. The crowd, masterfully interpreting the suggestive pose struck by the two figures on the wall, cheered wildly. His captor stared at him with burning intensity.

In battle, a complete victory is never truly attainable. As an officer rises in the ranks and accepts responsibility for their own squad, they soon realise this inconvenient truth. Mediocre officers accept it without question and take only low-risk missions where possible, but those who are great learn how to quickly calculate which sacrifices are necessary to achieve their primary objective. To Levi, the situation was clear: the sacrifice was his cravat, the primary objective his successful escape.

With his free hand, Levi loosened the white cloth around his neck, already feeling the loss of its silken texture, and flung it towards the crowd. A scuffle ensued, but soon a white cravat was waving triumphantly in the hand of its new owner. Levi stared dejectedly at the symbolic white flag of surrender. But the corporal still needed to complete his primary objective. He noticed Emilius' grip relax around his wrist.

Levi took a step back and yanked his wrist free. Without wasting a moment, he jumped, twisting his hips and using the powerful momentum generated to swing forward and smash his fist into Emilius' face. The force of the punch sent the large man crashing to the ground. Levi rolled to the ground, then straightened, observing his handiwork. Somehow, the violence only stoked the crowd further and caused the cheering to grow louder. Levi noticed his blood-stained knuckles.

"Tch, filthy." He produced his actual cleaning cloth and wiped the gore off his fist.

Emilius glared at Levi, blood streaming from his nose. "You broke my dose!"

"I would kick you down the wall, drag your ass back up and kick you down again, but the grime you'd create isn't worth my time. Plus, we have witnesses." Levi indicated to the spectators below, then flashed his bruising wrist at Emilius. "Tell a single soul about what happened here and I'll report you for sexual assault."

Activating his ODM gear, Levi fled quickly, reflecting on the day's proceedings. First the loss of his dignity at breakfast, then the loss of his cravat.

Two losses for Levi, he thought glumly. But he had escaped alive and would live to fight another day.