Chapter 25: My War

It was all the same. Humans had always been the same. He had seen it, asleep as well as awake. Waging war and murdering and conquering and taking taking taking, out of hatred and fear and greed and prejudice. Doing the unthinkable to people they'd never even met because they thought their need for revenge was justified.

The best predictor of the future was the past.

It was impossible to say who had started it, and when, and Eren didn't give a damn. Circles had no beginning and no end. But he would break the circle, for the present, at least, and if one side had to lose and one to win, he would make sure the winning side was theirs, this time around.

Because he, and the people he cared about, sure hadn't started it. Marley had taken their freedom, and to get it back, he would take theirs.

It wasn't about revenge. It was about freedom.

His friends were still all passed out on the hard floor. He trailed his gaze over each of them, committing them to memory, before finally lingering on her.

He had kissed Mikasa, and she had kissed him back. His Mikasa, who had been by his side nearly every day since the age of eight, throughout everything. His protector, his confidante, his home. Who had stood with him, always, even before he had been able to protect her back.

Would she regret the kiss, come morning? Would she have told him, sorry, but you're like a brother to me? The thought alone turned his stomach. It hadn't felt so, but that might be his wishful thinking playing tricks on him.

He would likely never find out, anyway, if he returned or not.

I'll always wrap that scarf around you. Again and again. Forever.

He had been so stupid. Yet, somehow, somewhere so deep inside even his anger at the whole damn world could not reach, he had always known.

And it made no difference.

No, that was wrong. It did; more clearly than ever before, he knew what he had to do, what must be done, in order to protect them all.

To protect her.

Someone had to be the devil.

She was still sleeping soundly, even snoring faintly, which he attributed to the not exactly modest amount she'd drunk last night. A weak smile tugged at his lips, and his eyes were stinging, and his throat hurt.

Her scarf had come loose. He bent down, tucking it more firmly around her neck. One last time.

Then, he left.

###

"Wake up, pisshead."

The world continued spinning even once Levi stopped shaking Nora by her shoulder. Cracking her eyes open was hard work, and when the glaring light hit her retinas, a sudden, sharp pain pierced her forehead. Since when was this room so unbearably bright?

"Shit," she moaned, drawing the word out. "I feel like I've been chewed up and regurgitated by a titan."

"You also look the part. Your face is grey."

She slowly scrambled to a seat, like an eighty-year-old, clutching her head with both hands, blinking at the man responsible for her rude awakening. Levi was half leaning, half sitting on the edge of the mattress, facing her. He was already fully dressed, disapproving frown firmly in place. She must have slept like a stone.

Watching her sluggish antics, he gave a minute shake of his head. "Why would you even do this to yourself?"

"Great question, in hindsight." Nora grimaced. Her mouth felt and tasted like a dead rodent. "I suppose after the shitshow yesterday, I just figured… why the hell not?" She shrugged, immediately regretting it; she was sick and dizzy enough as it was, even without worsening her headache with unnecessary movements. "It was fun at first, though. I think. The details are a little hazy."

Levi's eyes flashed silver with an unidentifiable emotion; it could have been amusement or anger or anything in-between. No matter what it was, a vague sense of impending doom made the skin at Nora's nape prickle, even before he said, "I could jog your memory and tell you what you were prattling on about until I finally got you to sleep."

Oh, shit. Another wave of nausea hit her, stomach lurching, and it wasn't exclusively because of her massive hangover. "Please, no. That, I remember." Now that he had reminded her, anyhow. Dear, did she remember. Unable to meet his eyes, she dropped hers to a random spot near his knee. "Who would have thought alcohol could make someone so…" She was unsure how to proceed without continuing where she had left off before falling asleep, instead of bringing the painfully awkward subject to a quick end.

"Chatty? Braindead?" he suggested.

Something about his voice was off. It was almost too flat, even for him. She looked up again, finding a matching expression on his face. It was such a subtle change to his usual countenance that she might be imagining it, or…

Drat. She had messed up. She had really messed up. She had said too much, hadn't she? And now, he was providing her with an out—and if she took it, she might be able to do some damage control.

But she was too stubborn to be such a coward.

"Honest," Nora explained, cheeks warming. "Although, I usually am, so I suppose what I really mean is… outspoken."

For several drawn-out seconds, he was so silent she could hear them ticking away on the little alarm clock on the bedside table. "Yeah," he said then. "Who would have thought that booze does that." He sounded sarcastic and serious and pensive at the same time. A strange, contradictory combination that could only mean that he was saying several different things at once.

"And you were absolutely right, by the way," she said in a conversational tone, trying to diffuse the weird tension that had built between them. And admittedly acting like she hadn't spilt her proverbial guts the night before. "Given my current, sorry state, I deeply regret it, and I will never, ever drink that much again." She was mostly referring to the hell of a hangover. Mostly.

Nora had meant everything she'd said—and that was exactly what made it worse. She had behaved like a smitten, thirteen-year-old girl. Except that she had never acted that dumb at that age.

She might not be thirteen, but unfortunately, she was very much smitten.

That was when she saw the look on Levi's face change in reaction to her lighthearted comment. Each and every small muscle seemed tense, from the jaw up to his forehead. She was at once sure she didn't imagine it.

It vexed her, worse than his previous lack of expressiveness, and it made her say, defiant, "I won't take it back, though." When his expression remained unchanged, she added, "Anything I said, I mean."

At last, the tension of unknown origin drained from his body. He met her scowl with an unexpectedly serene gaze and said, after a moment's pause, "You don't need to, idiot."

And that was it, his tone indicated, subject clearly concluded, moving on. Thankfully. Nora nodded at her knees, relaxing a little.

"My head feels like it's about to explode," she said, finally trusting herself enough to stand up. "Where's that titan regeneration when I need it?" Even shifters were cursed with a somewhat normal metabolism, she supposed.

"You'd probably have puked your guts out if you weren't such a freak," Levi told her. "Give it a few more hours and I bet you'll be fine."

"You aren't better at all in this regard," she murmured, miffed. It was then, as she was getting her clothes, hung neatly over the only chair in the small bedroom—not her doing—that another unpleasant memory came up.

Yesterday had really been a wild ride.

"They can hear us through the walls, by the way," she informed him. "Here in Marley, whoever gets a room next to us."

Levi's brows knitted. It took a moment until they eased in understanding. "What the hell did you guys talk about yesterday?"

"I obviously didn't start that conversation," she said, turning her back to him as she pulled on her trousers. She had to focus hard on her balance. "But I wasn't the only one who was completely battered, and we played some stupid drinking game…" The memory made her flush a little. Not that knowing about this little issue changed anything. "Anyway, just thought I should make you aware of this."

"Wouldn't have been necessary. First, it's not exactly surprising, and second, it's not my damn problem."

He was smarter than her. Really, it should have been obvious; they always got a bit carried away when they were intimate.

Nora arched a brow at him. "You really have got no sense of propriety whatsoever, do you?" Sometimes, the extent of his sheer and utter indifference surprised even her.

"I just don't give a shit," Levi said, apposite to her thoughts. "Does no good and is such a waste of time." He rose once she was done dressing, capturing her by the wrist. The baritone of his voice low and seductive, he added, "And I'm too much of a realist to suggest we try being quieter. And that goes especially for you." He poked her in the chest, staying like this, his eye contact intense and relentless.

"No need to point that out," she mumbled, taking hold of his hand to put it down. It was frustrating enough as it was.

Still, she couldn't bring herself to let go of him without an instant of hesitation.

#

Breakfast was always held in what was called the parlour. The room's furnishings were of a tasteful, decadent mix of ebony, red, and silver: dishes, decor like vases, sculptures, little trinkets placed on nearly every available surface, the luxurious carpet, and even the chairs that looked cosy with their burgundy padding, but were, oddly enough, hard and uncomfortable.

"I didn't know shifters could get that drunk," Hange remarked once Nora and Levi had joined her and Kiyomi Azumabito left them to their own devices.

"Well, if one could manage it, then it would be me," Nora said, grimacing at the food on the plates. Fresh bread, cheese and butter, croissants, and four kinds of marmalade. Quite the selection.

She was normally a croissant kind of girl—in part because she rarely got to eat the delicacy at home—but today, she'd stick to the tea, no matter how much Levi scolded her.

"True," Hange answered. "Though Eren was just as sloshed as the rest of you dingbats, judging by his comatose state. After I'd seen that they all lay on their side, I just left them be. They're probably still sleeping it off."

On cue, the door was thrown open with so much force Nora startled.

Mikasa entered in a frenzy, followed by the whole squad, all of them still in yesterday's clothes.

"It's Eren," she cried. "He's gone!"

And she handed Hange a letter. Levi and Nora jumped up, reading over her shoulder.

"Shit," the two of them said at the same time.

The letter explained little. Eren said he had to do it. "You know why." No apologies, no doubts, not a single word about what he was planning to do. Only that he wouldn't come back anytime soon, but would get in touch when necessary.

And one sentence—an afterthought—that caught Nora's eye like no other.

"You should listen to Nora about the facility, Hange."

The silence in the room stretched for minutes. Nora regarded her comrades, took in their shocked expressions and the stony mask that was Levi's. Last of all, filled with apprehension, Mikasa.

Her eyes were glistening with unshed tears, lips trembling, fingers digging into her upper arm. The last time Nora had seen her this upset was when Eren had been caught by the Female Titan.

"When I woke up," she said, "he was just gone, even though we—" And she broke off with a shaky sob, averting her gaze.

No one voiced the obvious.

If Eren got caught or died, it would be their death. It would be over for all of Paradis. Maybe even meeting up with Zeke would suffice, if that was one of his intentions.

"What are we going to do?" Nora asked, her pitch elevated in desperation, squeezing Hange's wrist.

She got no answer.

#

They waited a whole week before they departed. Once they arrived at Paradis Harbour, Nora stayed in bed, reading Marleyan books without absorbing a single sentence, or just staring into space. She only forced herself to get up for mealtimes—which had become sullen affairs—to eat nothing more than a few bites.

Her mind went in circles. We are done for. The thoughts were intrusive, impossible to turn off, gutting her each time and leaving nothing more than a bottomless pit. We are fucked. We are well and truly fucked.

Why even keep trying, at this point?

Levi didn't utter a word of complaint. She knew he would, eventually, would force her to get her useless arse up if she didn't pull herself together. But in fact, they barely talked at all. He likely didn't know what to say, had nothing to say, and neither did she.

She felt bad about her pathetic state, but she couldn't help herself. For once, she was unable to keep herself busy enough, mentally and physically; without their biggest hope, the constant fear gnawing at her had become paralysing, sapping all her energy.

Levi had been sitting next to her in bed from time to time, like a silent guardian. Sipping a cup of tea and staring at the wall, expression inscrutable.

On the third day, he broke the silence.

"It's a shame, really," he said. "He did the best cleaning job out of all of you brats."

Nora flinched at the sudden and unexpected conversation opener, but heaved herself up into a sitting position, fighting the weight of the stones that were her throat, her chest, her stomach. "What's wrong with my cleaning?"

"I'm surprised you even have to ask. Half the time, you forget to do it because you're so scatterbrained you're a menace to yourself. Always with your mind on whatever shit you've read last." He tapped her forehead with two fingertips, softly. "Or brooding over everything and anything that's coming up."

That hit a little too close to home, right now. It seemed Levi could read the misery from her face, because he looked away from her, scowling at his knees.

He must be angry because she had been sulking in bed, a waste of space and air. Shit. She couldn't fault him; she was angry at herself, too.

"I'm shit at this," he said out of nowhere.

She blinked at him, baffled.

Maybe he wasn't angry. Maybe, he had been trying to help.

And he didn't realise that it had been working, at least the tiniest bit. Even before his verbal intervention. It always did. He was always doing it.

By now, he should really know: he was exactly what she needed.

Yes, he didn't do any of the typical stuff. He did not take her to dinner. He did not shower her with gifts or praise. He definitely did not comfort her with pretty words or empty promises. His pet name for her was 'nutcase'. He never, ever went easy on her; not during sparring, verbal or physical, not in bed, not on missions.

That was simply who he was, how he—no, how both of them—ticked.

And when she was nose-deep in research, he put down a steaming hot cup of tea right beside her notes without comment. He was her rock. His incessant, dead reliable honesty was the biggest constant in her life and made every day just a little easier to bear. Especially because he usually dished it out with his signature mixture of morbidity and dryness, adorned with an endless supply of profanity, never failing to entertain her.

When they sparred, or were on missions, or fucked, or when he did literally anything else he deemed worth doing, he blew her away with his unwavering, uncompromising determination. Dedication, even.

He understood her like no one else. He saw and wanted her for who she was.

Nora scrambled for something to say, anything to show him. To make him see what she saw.

It should be so easy. Just say what you're thinking, like he does. But her vocal cords betrayed her. Maybe it was a good thing that Levi always seemed to be able to read her mind, as much as it horrified her.

She poked him in the shoulder so he would look at her again. "Hey, it could be worse. At least you're not telling me to cheer up."

The crease between his brows smoothed a little as he studied her face. "That wouldn't do shit."

"Best case, it would annoy me enough to distract me."

He patted her head. "There, there," he said dryly. "Everything's going to be alright."

"Really?"

"No."

She burst out laughing. His expression did not change—and yet. A strange glint entered his eyes, warming up the cold steel. The crinkles at their outer corners deepened slightly. It was a bit like the way he looked when his gaze swept the pristine room after a cleaning job well done.

He was pleased, Nora realised all at once. Pleased he'd made her laugh. Her heart did a little flip.

They fell silent once more, gazes locked. It wasn't enough to quiet her mind for long, however. On the contrary: looking at him was a painful reminder of what she had to lose. What she was more likely to lose than ever before.

The gaping chasm of despair inside her opened out again.

Levi caught her before she could fall, before it swallowed her whole. "Hey." With his hand on her jaw, he tilted her head up, waited until she made eye contact again. "It's not over yet."

"Yet," she repeated with a mirthless smile.

He nodded. "One way or the other."

The day after, she left the safety of their quarters and went back to training.