I do not own Shingeki no Kyojin
REWRITE: Read over chapter 4, I redone the conversation between Erwin and Rivaille. The plot has changed to stay on course.
"The whispers are true then?" A soldier murmured, hands busy with filling his smoking pipe. His companion, the Recon Corps stableman around the same age, had already his pipe filled and lit, he exhaled his precious smoke to the side.
The coolness of the night had settled to them, letting peace cover their bodies. The aged stableman, tall and burly, had provided tobacco for tonight's relaxation.
"Yeah, I saw'er run out on that sorrel 'oday with th' Corp' followin' not long after when I's lungin' the green bay. Once I got th' horses back in place, Corporal arrived alone, sorta of chillin' tho'. Ta'think, him bein' able'a ex'cute another soldier without'a second thought," he shuddered. The soldier did so as well once he lit the tobacco. "He mus' be really cold, ruthless even. I'can't say whether it's dedication or some sick form'a pleasure to come back without battin' an eye."
The soldier grimaced. "I saw the way he handled Eren during the military tribunal, it was pretty brutal; didn't stop for a full five minutes of beating him shitless." His friend let out a low whistle. "I've seen him nearly do in another recruit a year ago, too. Auruo told me he used to be part of the organized crime back at the Inner District...Rivaille isn't even his name, they say."
"That could be a factor, is'na' uncommon for thieves and thugs ta end up in the military to avoid jail time. Then again, who'd wanna join? They could jus' do gov'ment service, like me," the stableman proudly said as he pointed at himself.
His friend chuckled,"How long are you going to stay here?"
"Fa' life. I finished my time. I get a good pay. I got a family. Is better than doin' what these horses see on a daily basis, slayin' Titans an' all."
They exchanged a few more words. The soldier was meant to be on guard duty but few every bother to break into the Recon Corps, let alone vandalize it. It was an easy day for them and had been for weeks as an expedition would be coming up later in the month. To the soldier's shock, the stableman asked him,"Did you know they issued a search for that woman? Th' one who left with Corp' on her tail."
He nearly dropped his pipe at the news. "Who? Hanji? I didn't know, I was checking the supplies (we're missing two tanks from the stables though, I can't figure why), no one told me anything."
The stableman pointed down the barn, towards the courtyard with his thumb. "Erwin makin' a huge scene back there. Tellin' everyone to shift out, can't b'lieve ya missed it, that's why mos' the areas empty an' all. Was hell tryin' to get th' horses all t'gether for everyone. Don' make sense...ya send sum'one out ta kill 'nd then ya send out more ta search."
"Guess whey want to make sure she's dead."
"Yeah...even the Military Police got involved."
"What? Seriously- hey, someone's coming!" The soldier went to open the gate of the stable as an approaching rider atop a white steed coming galloping back. By the torchlight, the rider stopped his horse and dismounted, revealing himself to be Mike. "Sir!"
The blond man gave a strange look to him as the soldier saluted with a smoking pipe at his chest.
The stableman took the white horse's reins and lead the horse away. No words were exchanged as Mike breezed by the soldier.
He had searched high and low of a ten kilometer radius, looking for signs of where Rivaille and Hanji had sped off to. The Corporal was nowhere in sight, his efforts were wasted when night had fallen. As he entered the courtyard, he spotted two individuals that stood in the darkness rather than the torches. From where he stood, he finally found Rivaille's scent. His heart dropped when he couldn't find Hanji's. He feared the worse had happened.
"...there he is, speak of the devils below," he heard Rivaille utter to Petra.
Mike rushed over to them, his strides long and purposeful. While being second best under Rivaille, he had strength on his side.
The Corporal didn't shirk like Petra did when Mike advanced upon him with an aura that disturbed the atmosphere. Something had set the man off as though he were already a group of dynamite strapped together and then some fool let loose one small spark. The first words that Mike boomed at him were,"You fucking killed her!"
"No I didn't," Rivaille replied smugly, expression unchanging. It was like he was telling him what the weather was.
"You fucking did! She's not here!"
As if on cue, Mike had suddenly threw a fist towards Rivaille but the shorter man sidled to the side and delivered a kick to Mike's stomach. It was powerful enough to bring him to his knees and wither to the ground, groaning. Petra fell to her knees by Mike, making sure he was conscious at all, she admonished Rivaille,"You shouldn't have done that!"
"Then he shouldn't have taken that swing at me." He unsheathed the blade and brought the tip down to Mike's nose as the taller man tried to regain control of his stomach. "Sniff that, pooch, and tell me that's human blood."
Mike scowled and reluctantly took a few whiffs. His face, once contorted by anger, turned into bewilderment. He dumbly asked between gritted teeth,"G-goat?"
"The shitty Four-eyes decided to play dead, Erwin bought it, now we need to figure out what to do."
"So...you let her live?" He sounded relieved as the pain he was feeling had slowly begun to ebb away. He sat up with the help of Petra but he stayed on the ground to catch his breath; Rivaille had knocked it out pretty hard.
Petra assured him,"He said she's waiting at the Flora for us."
Mike exhaled as though a burden had been lifted from him. "Do we go meet her now?"
He brought the blade back into his sheathe and leaned against the wall, arms folding on his chest with one leg bent to prop himself in place. "Not yet, not until you tell me what's going on."
"Alright," Mike huffed out as he got to one knee, he winced but Petra was by his side,"if Petra didn't tell you, there's a massive hunt going on for supposedly Titan-shifters, traitors, and so on. It was an order released after you left. Unlike Hanji, no one was told to kill on sight or execute, just arrest."
Rivaille took a moment to think about the specifics of that order. After a minute, he scoffed,"I have a feeling that Hanji was specifically targeted simply because of her involvement in researching the damn shits. No tribunal, just an order on faulty accusation, and Erwin didn't bother to ask for a body when I reported killing her. What does that say to me? The government has decided to become paranoid."
He gave a low "Hm" as his mind trailed off for a moment. Hanji was right to fake her death and avoid facing arrest or confession, she had some insight in this...I guess her paranoia has its uses.
Mike and Petra both nodded at his assumption. It made sense to them as it did to Rivaille. After a moment of silence, he took a quick glance down and saw the distinct boot print on his shirt. Lips twitching in annoyance, he let out an aggravated breath.
"I'll be back," he finally told them,"this damn shirt..."
The Corporal walked away towards the living quarters. Mike gathered his bearings and stood up with the help of the smaller woman. She brushed off his jacket as he held his abdomen. "Damn," he cursed,"thought I wouldn't get another kick for a year."
"You know better than that," she chided him for his lashing out. As her hand went to dust off his stubble, he grabbed her wrist to gently nudge her away, telling her that he could take care of himself. She took a step back to lean against the wall, the very spot Rivaille was. "Tell me, Mike-" He threw his back against the wall and sank down to sit. "-you have feelings for Hanji, don't you?"
His mouth opened to speak but no words came out. He closed it as he decided to not say anything.
"Helping Hanji leave on time before Rivaille can get to her, you did it not because you saw it as wrong like you reasoned, you did it because you didn't want her dead," Petra reasoned,"you care for her more than you think."
At this, he let out a low chuckle, he brought his hand up and ruffled his fingers through his golden hair. "I would have done it for you too...but I guess you got me there, Petra."
"She may not have noticed it, but I do. You're always popping by to her lab, I doubt it's for any conversation with us though. I think it's sad, y'know...all of us work at Death's door, we're just inches away from knocking it it when we're beyond the Walls. Eventually, you find someone you love but then they're...gone," she sadly relayed to him. It was a fact. "She acts like she's socially inept but if you get her to focus on you instead of her work, you'd be surprised at how accepting she is."
Mike let a chuckle,"I know that part, that's why I like her. I just...hadn't been able to get around to telling her yet."
"Squad Leader Mike Zacharias," she began her teasing,"can kill Titans without flinching, can sniff them out a mile away, can conquer all living things, and is just one man below Rivaille...yet he can't fess up to Hanji Zoe, Titan-enthusiast extraordinaire."
"Hey! What about you? I see you staring at Rivaille sometimes." He reached out to quiet her down but she stepped away. His voice went up high to tease her,"Oh, Corporal, I didn't see you there. Corporal, Corporal, Corporal~"
"Shut up, I don't sound like that!" She whined. "I only call him Corporal because I respect him."
"You can't utter his name."
A blush spread on her cheeks. "Yes I can! It'd...it'd just be out of place! I don't hear you calling Hanji by 'Zoe'."
Mike was taken aback. "No one calls Hanji by the name of 'Zoe'! The last guy who did it got a test tube shoved so far up his ass that the queer guy from Auruo's Squad suddenly turned straight!"
Her eyes widened in shock. "When was that?"
"Five years ago, everyone figured that out," he said with a shudder,"she went bat-shit too. Even Rivaille couldn't get near her for a while."
It grew quiet between them, she looked over into the darkness of the courtyard. "I would tell Rivaille-" His eyes flickered over to her "-if I could...but I'd rather stay the way I am right now. I write to my father about this and he tells me to try and sit down to talk with him."
"You should if your feelings are that strong," he advised her.
They had known one another for three years after being promoted to Squad Leaders. Often they would speak to one another, like they were now, as friends, both realizing they had interests in someone else. Both at home and out in the front lines, they helped one another, just as comrades would. Idle talks were enough to keep them content.
"Yeah...but since Eren came along, I lost my chance. At first I thought there would be an upside to helping Hanji in the lab, hopefully she'd be the type to gossip-"
"Y'know she isn't."
"-but getting her to tell me about Rivaille, well, it's hard enough to get her to speak at all when she's working. Even if she does, it's just about Titans, experiments, Eren as of late..." She let out an empty sigh. "I'd be awkward to ask her of anything directly."
"I guess it can be a touchy subject. It's hard to get anything of Hanji out of Rivaille, he just tells me 'Shitty Four-eyes' can't focus on things for shit, God, sometimes I hate his vulgarity towards her," he stated.
She nervously chuckled,"He's brash as he is vicious."
Then his nose picked up on something. "He's back."
Rivaille appeared from the shadows, his scent was masked by the nicotine, preventing Mike from sensing him beforehand. Not only had he changed his shirt, he had also removed his Gear and changed into civilian clothes; he wore a white shirt with the familiar ascot; his shoulders were draped by a black long coat; his pants were exchanged for slacks; the boots were swapped as well for plain ones for riding.
They grew quiet as he drew near. He was carrying a crate, he carefully placed it in the center of them all. They didn't question what was in it.
"You're dressed well," Petra commented.
"I want you two to change to civilian clothes, it'll make us less noticeable to the patrols, should we encounter them. Leave your Gears in storage too, engaging in a fight now isn't going to help," he instructed.
Mike looked down at the crate. "Then what's in there?"
"Something we're going to need, I'll give it to you once we get to the Flora. Hurry the fuck up."
-...-
Under the feint light emitted from the street lamp, Hanji dismounted at the stables of the Flora.
It was unusually quiet, as if the tavern was empty. She hesitated and contemplated on whether to get back on her horse and seek refuge elsewhere.
No, I need to stay where Rivaille can find me.
Mentally pushing herself, she removed the tack of her horse, tied it to one of the many empty stalls, and stored her equipment in the closet provided by the owner. Soldiers would often drop by the tavern so there was a designated spot for Gears, unfortunately, she couldn't trust herself to part from it, especially not now.
She had no money, she wasn't able to snag the cash she needed.
Her coin purse was in her room.
If only Mike gave me money...
Her hand consciously drifted down to her belt, she felt the leather pouch. It was small and was the size of her hand. Throughout the day, she had forgotten he had given it to her. Thankful that he provided her a means of being able to room comfortably, she quickly went to the tavern doors that was around the corner of the stable.
It had been three years since she entered the old tavern.
Everything was different. The heavy, wooden tables that were spread near the walls to allow room for dances and parties should the need arise now lined in neat rows like that of the mess hall; chairs were propped in tables due to no occupants (odd to her as she found the place packed before); the piano where the proprietor's daughter would sit and play was empty and collecting dust; a lazy, white dog splayed itself in the center of the floor, near the entrance, he looked half dead.
The Flora had gotten its name from the amount of flowers that used to line the walls; the wooden surfaces were now bare with baskets and wires, some had flowers but were withered and falling to pieces.
"Tobias?" She called out timidly, her voice echoed in the seemingly empty building. She knew of the barkeep, everyone did. He was the proprietor who was claimed to be the gayest (happiest) one in the land. She went in and the dog didn't even bother to look up or even jump as he would normally greet guests.
She heard the clatter of dishes coming from the kitchen. Soon after, a man with red hair came out. She almost couldn't recognize him, for he seemed to have aged quite drastically since she saw him last. His hair had grown out and was tied back by a hastily done bow, a visible beard had wildly grew like a bush of weeds to his face, and his expression, once so bright and clean, now held only emptiness and despair.
He wore a messy apron that was smeared in oil and drink, his limbs looked thinner than usual, and there was a visible scar peeking down his right arm, disappearing up into his forearm; there were marks of stitches.
"Zoe?" His croaked out.
The sound of her name being uttered lit a spark but then her shoulders dropped at the sight of him. He looked delicate, not like how she remembered him before. She wouldn't lash out at him simply because she pitied him.
"I thought you'd never be back," he said in disbelief,"c'mere, let me look at you."
She went to Tobias and he examined her. She gently asked,"What happened to you?"
"Edith passed away...Maike got kidnapped during a break-in...business went down after that," he murmured.
"I'm sorry," she said, offering condolences. He gave a brief smile but then it disappeared as he turned away to go behind the bar.
"You're the first customer I had in a year," he told her with a heavy sigh, he carried himself as though he were a burden,"would you want the usual?"
Hanji shook her head. "No, I would like to have a room."
His eyes lit up. There was more revenue for lodging. "How many nights?"
"As much as this can give me." She took out Mike's coin purse and the placed it on the dusty bar. Tobias's bony fingers undid the leather strip to unravel the purse, he dumped the contents on the dirty surface of his counter and counted it. She pitied him.
The tavern used to be alive with songs, with laughter, with smoke, with friends, with happiness. It was like everything had been sucked away and replaced with death. The look on Tobias's face, his body, even his dog, told her that he could be at death's door by the end of the week. She stood there, watching him as he counted it. When he was done, his tired eyes looked up at her and he told her flatly,"A week."
"I need it for one night," she told him, he nodded, taking five gold pieces and then returning the rest to her pouch. She took it back as he gave her a key.
"Managed to keep the rooms clean," he informed her,"so don't worry about it being an eye-sore such as this. Room 3, upstairs."
Her hands took the coin purse. "Thank you...do you provide clothes?"
Tobias gave her a gentle, yet brief, smile. "Sure, yes...in fact, Room 3 is where I store Edith's dresses; they're in the wardrobe. You're free to take them, I don't have use for them myself. Here."
He handed a newly lit candle and placed it on the holder for her to take upstairs; a key was given as well.
"Thank you." She walked for the narrow staircase that was around the parlor. Just when she took one step, she glanced back briefly for a moment to look at the sad scene and then traversed up the creaking stairs. The little candle flickered with her movements, lighting the way for her when she got to the second floor. The hallway spaced out for her, giving her room to turn with her Gear.
She reached the end of the hallway and found her room.
She stuck the key through and entered, her small flame lighting the room. Wearily, she lit the candles on the wall and a nearby lamp to provide more light. After doing so, she settled her small flame at the bedside.
The room was fairly smaller than the one she had at headquarters, though it didn't feel cramp as her books weren't scattered and stacked haphazardly in here. There was a medium sized bed propped at the corner, it would fit for two people. A working desk and chair sat under the window that overlooked the street. Finally, the wardrobe that Tobias spoke of stood parallel of the bed. She would check it later if time permitted.
Her body wasn't tired though her mind was strained, it was starting to take a toll on her. Her mind was desperately telling her to sleep but instincts were yelling at her to do otherwise. If she fell asleep now, someone may come after her. She hadn't felt this uneasy since she was younger.
Instead of undressing, she undid her Gear and rested it by the edge of the bed. She settled the sheathes on the ground by the edge of her bed, then removed her jacket to toss it at the hair. She needed to lay down, and she did. Hanji threw herself onto the bed, laying on her back and looking at wooden ceiling. Slowly, her eyes closed.
She began to drift off for the next hour or so.
Out of nowhere, the sound of horses running down the pavement outside caught her ear. Fear suddenly coursed through her, it was like she was hiding once again. She shook away the feeling, along with sleep, and stumbled out of bed to check out the window.
Much to her relief, Rivaille, along with Petra and Mike, had arrived on a supply wagon driven by two horses. Knowing that her plan of deception had worked, she ran out of the room and sped down the stairs.