After a month has passed, Levi has more or less settled in his new routine: Irregular sleep, as always. Beginning of the day at six with a shower, followed by shaving, tea, then breakfast. Opening the Sparrow at half past seven to the bakery's delivery. Closing it at seven in the evening. Dinner at eight. Bookkeeping on Mondays with closing and eating his meager dinner an hour early. Going to bed whenever fatigue demands it. Cleaning whenever the nightly rest won't come. Constantly battling his memories of Eren that won't let Levi rest.
Eventually giving in to Hanji's well intentioned badgering, Levi bought a bed. It's a big one, because Hanji swore it was the right choice to make. Yet every night Levi stands before the odd thing, it feels too big for one single person. Soon he imagines the bed judges him whenever he slips under the comforter Hanji presented him, despite Levi's protests. Claiming that several soldiers insisted on reminding him that he's still one of their own, Levi lost the argument. The Survey Corps colouring of the thick blanket reminds Levi where he comes from. Naturally, it also reminds him of Eren.
Levi's gaze inevitably wanders over to the drawing on his nightstand. The mere knowledge that it looks at him from this close brings the voice back, and with it the longing. Still, Levi keeps on looking at it, telling Eren goodnight every day.
It takes two months for Levi to decide this latest habit is stupid. He first bans the picture into the living room. After catching himself brooding over it in the evenings whilst sitting in his chair, he takes it down into the Sparrow. He can't bring it over himself to lock it away in his old military trunk.
"He looks good down here!" Hanji says on the next morning and adds with a wink: "You should have more drawings in this place."
"Then draw them yourself," he snaps defensively, arranging a new pile of napkins into a neat pillar.
Slapping her palm onto the counter, she jerks up on her bar stool. "You know what? I will."
She keeps her word, bringing a sketchbook with her the next time she visits. Supplied with coffee and cherry pie, she sits down at one of the tables to pencil some quick expressions of the café.
The results are good. With the thought in mind that if he has multiple reminders of Eren all over the Sparrow, he probably should add more things that are Hanji, and solely Hanji's contribution, Levi buys three frames. When Hanji enters the Sparrow the next morning, her drawings already hang on the wall opposite the window front, and on the wall facing the counter. She grins.
Sometimes Hanji still comes over at night, mostly on Fridays. On rare occasions, she manages to drag Levi into a pub. Mostly they sit in their respective armchairs in front of the fireplace and talk. They share a simple dinner, or sometimes try new samples of pastries for the café. Most often, latter are due to Levi's ongoing attempt to find the exact right cinnamon rolls. He tells Hanji about his week, mostly they are all not that bad. She returns the favour, including the latest evolutions happening within the Survey Corps and the Military in general.
News reached headquarters on a stormy late September day that the Exploration Team has found an ocean. Samples of everything are being brought back, along with detailed map information. The Scouts have begun their return trip.
Levi spends the next morning between serving his customers, and staring at the picture of Eren on his counter. He tries to imagine what Eren's eyes must have seen, and how he must have felt. Levi hopes Eren is well; and misses, always misses him.
Eren has never stopped slipping back into Levi's mind like a ghost, like an unfathomable menace lurking around the next corner. Too often Levi's imagination places him sitting on one of the bar stools at the counter. He appears in flashes of scent, or images, or sounds, completely unpredictable, making Levi falter in his movements.
The day after Hanji's news it feels like Eren is about to walk through the café's door any moment. He'd smile at Levi like he used to, and order Gunpowder tea and chocolate cake, to eat it with a pleased hum—the one sound Eren always makes that seems to settle deep in Levi's stomach without ever wanting to fade. It doesn't matter that it's all happening within his head. Time has made these episodes normal to Levi, so he shrugs them off as best as he can.
Another month has passed when Hanji tells Levi that the recent developments and discoveries have convinced the higher-ups to expand the Survey Corps.
"Expand it?" Levi asks from his leather chair. It's another one of their Friday nights together, and they sit in front of his hearth.
"With the world wide open now, we need more Scouts," Hanji explains. She lounges in her corduroy chair with her feet dangling over one of the arm rests. "And since the tasks are a lot different from what the Military Police do, and the Garrison used to do, they want us to train them ourselves."
Levi snorts. "They don't want to change their curriculums and training structures."
"Yeah, my thinking exactly," Hanji agrees.
"Lazy bastards," Levi grunts before taking another sip from his tea cup. At least Rita will probably be happy about it, he muses. This way she can even skip the regular Training and become a Scout Trainee right from the start.
Yawning, Hanji stretches her arms in the air before flopping back into her previous position. "It shouldn't surprise me as much as it does, I guess. Ever since we arrived here at the original HQ, I've been wondering why they would relocate us here when our Exploration Teams would head out soon. Even with everyone at home, we weren't even half full."
Levi grunts approvingly. "Will they assign you Trainers, or will you have to look for them yourself." A part of him wonders if she's planning to ask him for help, since she brought the subject up.
"Latter, as it seems. It's better like this, though," Hanji answers in a distracted tone.
"Mm. Sort out the crap right away," Levi advises.
She grins. "I thought about asking for support from our Exploration Squads when they get back."
Levi takes a sip of his Assam. He knows what's coming. Hanji has not asked him for assistance, so that leaves her only with one option, and it's clear she's going to ram it down his throat.
"Eren would be perfect as an Instructor. Don't you think?" She beams like back then when Erwin allowed her to play with Titans. "He's good with kids, and wouldn't it be nice to have him back to stay?"
Answering with nothing but silence, Levi watches the flames of the fire licking on a freshly added piece of wood. Of course it is exactly as he predicted. She always brings up Eren one way or the other.
She sighs. "Your enthusiasm is stunning as always."
"Drop it," Levi growls. "When do you have to start?"
"Winter," she replies.
Levi nods.
Rearranging her legs, Hanji shifts in her seat to sit properly. "Oh, Levi. How often do I have to say that they're all fine before you can believe it? Because they are. Eren will come back safe. I know it."
It's a rather foolish attempt to deflect when she's in one of her moods. Levi tries anyway. "I said fucking drop it. What will you teach?"
Hanji relents with a pout, folding her arms. "Wildlife and survival lessons, alongside some cartography essentials. Usual gear training and cardio drills. Fighting techniques are required and I also want them to be able to defend themselves since we don't really know what's out there."
Staring into the flames in the hearth before him, Levi hums absently.
Hanji sighs again and eyes Levi sternly through her glasses. "Why don't you ever want to talk about him, Levi?"
"Why haven't you seen water since I don't even know how long ago?" he fires back.
"Denial doesn't suit you," she insists.
"How is this denial?"
"You clearly miss him. Why don't you talk to me? It would help," Hanji tries again, leaning forward.
"What exactly would that help?" he snaps.
"I don't know." She shrugs. "We could make a plan?"
"To what! To lure him here and lock him up? I won't help you to hold him where he doesn't want to be, four-eyes. He deserves better than what the old Government tried to do to him."
"And what about you, Levi? I can't even remember the last time you laughed. And believe me, I tried."
"I'm not your latest fucking Titan project!"
"No, of course, you're not! But you should have someone who looks out for you, since you clearly don't do it yourself. And how do you know he won't want to be here?" she asks, jaw set in an angle of tenaciousness. "I know, he cares about you too."
"Shut the fuck up," Levi orders, seizing his last weapon. "Or I swear, water and soap. Today. Right here, right now."
Leaning back in her seat, Hanji shakes her head. "This is not good for you, Levi. You can't continue to live like this. With the expansion, Eren can choose to stay here wi—"
"Okay, that's it." Putting down his cup, Levi lunges from his chair.
"Oh, no. No, Levi, please!" Shooting up from her chair too, Hanji tries to escape. She doesn't get far.
As has always been the case, it's ugly. Months of disregarding Erwin's longest standing orders to take care of Hanji cannot overrule years of practise. It only takes Levi five seconds to have pinned her flailing arms. She screams and fights her fate tooth and nail, yet no matter her strength, or panic, Levi is still stronger. Kicking the bathroom door shut behind them, he hurls her into the tub.
As he turns on the water, Hanji keeps lashing out, spattering the spray into every direction possible until she, the bathroom floor, and not to mention Levi himself, are soaked. Her fists automatically pummel Levi's saturated shirt-covered chest, each hit accompanied with soggy splashing sounds.
It's during her hysterical shrieks that Levi realises, he's actually been missing this. He's always been a creature of habit and it's been too long since this routine has gotten attention. Another thing lost with his retirement.
"You're an arsehole," Hanji bubbles, looking like misery going wild.
"Good," Levi growls back. "I guess we're even then." He shoves her head under the spray.
Hanji coughs and splutters. "Such an arsehole to keep doing this when Erwin's long dead! I hate you!"
"I know." He lets her emerge to gasp for some air, then shoves her right back.
She coughs more water, still fighting him with everything she's got. "Why do you keep on doing this!"
Levi snarls. "Well, someone has to make sure you don't get some fucked up skin rotting disease and fucking die."
The first whiny sob escapes her, and her fists begin to slow down. Knowing that the worst racket is over for now, Levi gives her a moment to breathe before he strips her. Sometimes he wonders if she's always having a meltdown when she showers, or if it's because of his ongoing efforts to clean her up. Perhaps she has a fear of water. It at least would explain her aversion to body hygiene.
"Why are they all gone?" she gargles suddenly. "Erwin, and the rest. Even miss you being a cranky old bastard. Dragging me into the showers every month. Or making me eat when I didn't realise I stayed in my lab for a couple of days and even Moblit couldn't get me to eat." With the last sentence, the familiar hitting stops completely while her hands bunch Levi's shirt inside her fists.
"I'm still here," Levi points out.
Her fist hits him again with one final, weak splash, alongside a shake of her head. "Why won't you let me help you?" she wails, shuddering with tears, and inhales more water. Coughs again. "Why?"
"I can't," he replies mildly. "I did that to myself, glasses. Now close your eyes. Soap is coming and I don't want to make you even blinder than you already are. We'll need a scrubbing brush too this time. Fuck, you're caked."
She whimpers. "Please don't use the same soap as the last time."
"I'm not. I've got the one you don't mind," Levi concedes, reaching for the bar and foaming it up with the brush.
"The milk one?" she sniffs. Shivers.
"Yes."
In the end they just stand in the tub, her sobbing and shaking against his chest, while Levi holds her close, running his fingers over her neck and freshly washed hair.
"I only want to see you happy," she blubbers.
"I know," he huffs.
"And you're not. You're not even fine."
Water rains down on the both of them.
"No," he admits.
Hanji weeps even harder. Knowing it's all on his behalf doesn't make it easier, or better. Still Levi lets her cry it out against his shoulder and closes his eyes.
He's never said it out loud before, and hearing it now aches all over again. It's been almost seven months to the day since he bought this house and moved in. No matter how much he struggles to forget, no matter what he tries to turn this place into a home, Levi still feels like a stranger in it. Despite all his efforts, he feels oddly adrift. Practicalities and work help keep him busy throughout the day, but it's enough for a customer to laugh or talk with a similar voice to Eren's, for someone to mention Titans, or sometimes even a simple glance against the sun, and all of Levi's efforts to move on go to waste in an instant.
His flat is cold, and no summer heat, no fire, no hot water, not even Hanji's visits can change things. The memories he's been trying to flee in buying this place still remain, lurking everywhere, waiting for him to be alone. Surrounded by quiet, and nothing but tea that tastes much too stale, Eren's presence always returns. Maybe this is how things will be for the rest of his life. Levi has never belonged anywhere anyhow. He has always been the one left behind. He isn't someone who can reach out and find happiness, as simple as that may be to others. Probably he wouldn't even know what to do with it once it was his, and would destroy it. Again.
If he only knew how to forget. Maybe it would stop Eren from having this much control over Levi's life. Even when Eren is so many days, weeks, and paces away. It certainly would help to make Hanji stop crying on his behalf.
Mentally recapitulating their argument, Levi wonders what Eren is doing now. Wonders if he is fast asleep, or looking into a campfire, or standing in a rainstorm of his own. Find your laughter, Levi thinks once more. Then he turns off the water, wraps Hanji into the big towel that she likes most, and fetches them both a set of clean, dry clothes.
Back in front of the fireplace, Hanji sinks down in her chair, and rubs at her red puffy eyes with a final sniff. Levi hands her a glass of whisky. She doesn't bring up Eren again. Instead she lets Levi engage her in a discussion about gear training and survival drills for twelve-year-olds. When the fire is gone out very late that night, Levi fetches her his blanket, and lets her sleep in the chair next to him.
At least they still have each other.
"I'm sorry, Norman," Levi says, looking at the latest batch of cinnamon rolls. It's the tenth time he's said this since they set out on this mission, and he's sick to the back teeth of apologising to this man. Not that it's anyone else's fault than Levi's own.
Admittedly, he truly is anal about this topic. He even begins to suspect that he's chasing an ideal of something that never was quite as he remembers. Maybe the cinnamon rolls simply lack Eren's presence. Just like everything else.
It's a few days after Hanji's enforced shower, and the golden October sun sends its hazy afternoon glow through the window front of the Sparrow. Norman, who's come in for a weekly checkup if everything is alright with the cake and bread, sits at Levi's counter on a bar stool, enjoying a cup of tea.
At Levi's words, his bushy face assumes an expression of cheerlessness. "I'm sorry, Levi," Norman says in his deep, sonorous voice. "And no need to apologise on your side, it's my fault. I just can't get them right, can I? Should be easy, one could assume, but making them as you want…" he shrugs, scratching his fire red head that matches his beard.
"They are good," Levi concedes. "Just not quite as I remember them. And my description lacks detail too."
Norman shakes his head, his eyes going mild as he takes a sip of his tea. Amongst all of Levi's customers, Norman is one of the few odd men out when it comes to the preferred choice of what goes into their cup. "Well," he says, "I promised you, we'll get them right eventually. I would understand if you wouldn't want them for your café, when they're not as you want them to be. So if you want a refund for this batch, that would be no problem."
"Out of the question. I'll take them all," Levi insists. He doesn't want them to go to waste, and besides: "My friend likes them, and the other customers as well. You've got to live too and you're doing good work. It should be appreciated."
"Truly would have been alright, but good then. I'm glad they find their way into some happy stomachs. Let's get today's problem sorted out, though." The smile is back on Norman's features as he produces a notepad out of his pockets. "Fire away. What do you want to be different?"
"The cardamom is too strong," Levi explains and bites into one of the rolls to examine it more closely. His teeth easily sink though the soft yet firm yeast dough a moment before the flavour of spices, enhanced by crunchy sugar, explodes in his mouth.
"Too strong, eh?" Norman scratches his head with his pencil. "Last time was too weak, you said."
Levi looks at the roll in his hands as he first chews, then swallows. "Yes. It's closer to what I want this time and better than too little. The texture is better too." He gives the roll a careful squish and tears experimentally at the end of a string. "Right amount of sticky. Still a bit too big. I've got children here sometimes, and let's say a ten-year-old should be able to manage it so nothing goes to waste. Cinnamon seems to be alright. Sugar too. But adjusting the cardamom might change that, so I'll leave that up to you."
Scribbling it all down in a handwriting that matches Levi's art skills, Norman nods. "Alright then. Anything else I can do for you?"
"A multi-grain bread and a loaf of wheat bread tomorrow morning," Levi replies. "The soft one that Frey brought over to test two weeks ago."
"That brioche," Norman booms. "Yeah, that was a lovely batch, wasn't it? Rather proud of myself, if I may say so. Consider it done!"
"Thank you." Despite Levi's initial hesitance when Evelyn first offered to add personal orders to his morning delivery, it's quickly become a welcome easement.
"Is everything working out with Frey and the morning deliveries?" Norman asks, closing the notepad before he stores it away in his pockets again. "I hope he doesn't give you any trouble."
"He's not," Levi assures, noticing the proud gleam in Norman's eyes.
"Good. And how are Arne and Katinka treating you? Arne is a nice guy, yet he comes across as peculiar and rough to most people."
Levi smiles. Arne is silent, until he begins to talk. He likes to cool his beer in the earth in the colder months and has enwrapped Levi in a long lecture about firearms. Levi, in return, talked about knives. Arne isn't a problem. Katinka isn't either. Running her farm with her bad hip as she does, has long earned Levi's respect, and despite her busy days she always finds time to bring over cheese once a week.
"They're alright," he says.
Norman blushes faintly. "I still owe you an apology for Evelyn's persistence there. She likes to take care of people and make everyone feel comfortable. Lovely woman," he smiles to himself. "She deals with my stuff every day, old fart that I am, with the patience of a saint. She was seventeen when we met. I was already close to thirty. Fell for that smile right away. Couldn't believe my luck when she looked at me, still can't." His voice has become scratchy with emotion, and he reaches for a napkin to rub his eyes.
Politely looking away, Levi refills Norman's tea. Naturally Eren slips back into his thoughts again, alongside the question if Eren is looking forward to his return, or if he wishes he could stay at his ocean to watch the endless waters.
"Don't mind about Evelyn," Levi assures after the sniffing on the other side of the counter has abated. "And it's not like I can't defend myself if she overplays it."
Norman beams and chuckles, eyes still slightly glossy, yet sparkling again. "I'm glad then. What is this tea anyway?" He asks, glancing into the cup before him. "It's lovely."
"Oolong." Levi fetches the caddie and opens it for Norman to examine the leaves.
"Oolong, eh? Pretty." He strokes over his long, shiny beard. "Is this for sale too?"
"It is," Levi says.
Norman nods and gives a considering hum. "You can infuse the leaves multiple times?"
"Yes," Levi answers. "Just as the Gunpowder you bought the last time. Same procedure too, but it has to infuse a bit longer."
"Wonderful!" Blue eyes shine with an anticipation that Levi has come to recognize over the last months.
He closes the big can and heads towards the staff department. "I'll fetch you a caddie then."
"Ta! Honestly, I thought I'd never live to see the day. Evelyn and I always liked tea, but never tried too much apart from the dark ones. Your café is like the land of milk and honey to us. Full of little wonders." Norman sags slightly in his seat, eyeing the cinnamon rolls with worry.
"No need to be concerned," Levi says as he writes the brewing instructions onto a provided label of the can. "Like I said, they're good."
Norman nods, and then suddenly smiles at the frame on Levi's counter. "Are they for him?"
Closing his pen, Levi holds back a sigh. Well, he guesses, they'd want to know as soon as they saw the picture. It's not as if he'd make a secret out of it by bringing it down here. He also should have been prepared for Norman and his wife to put two and two together. "Maybe," he evades.
"Is he that Titan shifter everyone's heard of? The one from your old Squad?" Norman asks in a curious tone that matches his wife's. He might be excusing Evelyn's zealous altruism and penchant for gossip, but Norman himself doesn't fall far from that tree either. "He's one of those out there, isn't he?"
"He is," Levi replies, looking at the drawing now as well. "And yes."
Norman's blue eyes widen as his cheeks swell with an eager expression. "Oh, you must tell me about this lad. I heard he joined your Squad right after Training."
"He did," Levi says, reaching for a sheet of wax paper from under the counter, alongside the black sealing wax and his seal. Norman's gaze pleas for more, so Levi continues. "They didn't trust him and were close to dissecting him."
Norman face is a picture of sorrow. "They were?" Levi assumes the man has seen enough misery in his years, especially in this town, yet that obviously hasn't broken his sympathy.
Folding the smooth paper around the rectangular caddie, Levi nods. "Yes. We got him out of there. Fortunately. It was close enough as it was." He uses a knife to cut off some parts of the wax stick, then collects the black pieces in a spoon to heat them over a flame. Instantly the resinous scent of sealing wax spreads in the room, mingling with the flavour of coffee and wood polish.
"Is it true that he was one of your best?" Norman asks, hanging on Levi's lips.
Long gone moments flash through Levi's head. Furious eyes behind bars. Eren bleeding from his hands in a well. Eren asking for guidance in the woods. Eren training until he'd faint to get stronger. Eren raging against injustice. Blank, green eyes staring far beyond the mist.
Holding the wrapping in place, Levi pours the melted wax onto the edge of the paper's flap and presses his seal onto the spot. As he lifts it from the hardening wax, it reveals a simple 'S', standing out on smooth black. "He always gave his all," he says finally.
"Well, I'm curious about what they'll have to tell about the world when they come back." Norman says, expression dreamy. "I heard they will return soon?"
"In about a month, apparently," Levi says with a frown.
It's still odd to even think about it. They usually never come back. That's how it used to be, at least. Trust Eren Yaeger to surprise him with everything until Levi's world stands upside down.
"You must miss him." Upon Levi's lifted eyebrow, Norman shrugs and folds his massive arms. "Don't give me that look, young man. One can see, you know?"
Snorting at the comment about his age, Levi relents. Norman is heading towards sixty, although he doesn't look like it one bit. "Yes, I thought so," he admits.
"His eyes seem nice." Norman smiles, glancing back at the drawing. "Are they truly this big, I wonder?"
Placing the neatly wrapped caddie with Norman's new Oolong on the counter, Levi smiles too. "You have no idea."
"Can't wait to meet him, then." Putting on a conspiratorial grin, Norman leans over the counter. "Speaking of which. What kind of cake does your lad like?"
"Norman," Levi says sternly, leaning forward as well. Knowing Norman and Evelyn, he has to put things straight right away. "He doesn't look back."
Norman's grin widens. "No reason not to spoil him, eh? Who knows what might happen."