Year 850
The night air was abnormally frigid and Katrine rubbed her arms in a futile effort to stop her shivering on the rooftop of the inn, the metal of her gear icy against her thighs. Levi stood at the edge, evidently impervious to the cold, determining the best way to approach the bell tower. She'd been stupid and told him about Josephine and then kept going and talked about Cecily too, now overexposed like a raw wound. Thankfully the moon was invisible and the cathedral shrouded in darkness. Even so, she stared at the empty streets below because she didn't want to look at his face.
"Drop down to the western roof, then move up the tower," Levi said, pointing, and jumped off without waiting for her answer. Katrine swung off too, the usual jump in her stomach particularly strong, and followed him onto the roof and then up the cathedral spine. At the top was a belfry with a large bell, a deep brass that was blinding in the sunlight but now a dull gray. She reached out and tapped her nails on it to hear the little ring, knowing that Levi was probably shooting her a glare in the darkness.
"Drop your gear," he said. "Here."
The cramped wooden stairwell descended into darkness, but at least there were steps this time. She trailed after him, steadying herself against the cold stone walls, for what felt like ages until they reached a tiny landing with a single wooden door. Weak light eked out from the crack while the stairwell continued into the shadows. Levi crouched at the door and listened for a moment, and then pressed down lightly on the handle. It didn't move.
"Damn it," Katrine hissed through her teeth.
Levi withdrew a thin metallic pick from his boot. "This is nothing." He jammed it into the lock. In less than a minute the door popped open and Katrine couldn't help but be impressed.
"Weren't you opposed to this?" she asked. He didn't respond and pushed the door open.
This office was smaller but more sumptuous than the previous, with an elaborately carved desk and thick velvet drapes ornamenting the single window. There were dozens of shiny trinkets begging to be taken. However, Katrine was enthralled by the strange paintings on the walls; though hung in thick gold frames, they weren't like the portraits in the cathedral but instead depicted bizarre scenes and demonic-looking creatures. She stopped at one and made out a gangly furry creature stepping over a copse of trees. Unsettled, she returned to Levi, who was poking around the desk drawers. "Find anything?"
"No. Don't rush me." He opened a drawer and after inspecting the bottom, tore off a sheet of paper taped to the wood. Katrine knelt next to him as he unfolded it. It was a letter, addressed to Brother Marius, and once she made it halfway through the girlish script she cupped a hand over her mouth to stifle her giggles because it was a very descriptive, and explicit, love letter.
"These nuns get up to some shit!"
Levi pinched the top of the letter and held it far away from his face. He scowled as if he wanted to tear it up for wasting his time.
"She is a damn poet. I have to take this back," Katrine said, reaching for it.
"No, you're not." Levi waved her hand away and folded the letter.
"Oh, you're gonna keep it, since you're horny for nuns?"
He slammed it back to the bottom of the drawer harder than necessary. "No, you immature shit."
Katrine raised her hands. "I'm not judging—"
Levi suddenly clamped his hand across her mouth and before she could wrench him off and rebuke him for possibly smudging her lipstick, he raised his head and stared intently at the door. Then she heard the footsteps. How the hell is this happening twice? Do they never leave?
"Curtains," he whispered, closing the drawer, and slipped behind the dark red fabric. Katrine followed, her heart pounding, and dug her nails into her palm when she brushed his arm and felt the heat of his hand against her thigh. She looked down at her feet, making sure her toes weren't poking out, and prayed whoever entered wouldn't notice them.
Footsteps echoed inside, two people from the sound of it. "Why is the door open?" a male voice asked, concerned.
"Oh, I was just up here. Must've forgotten to lock the door," another male voice said. Katrine eased her clenched fists.
"Marius, this is no time to be forgetful," the first voice said. Her hand flew to her mouth to keep herself from laughing out loud since that was the recipient of the letter and the owner of particularly talented fingers.
"That's him!" she mouthed, pointing, but Levi pinched her arm and she stilled. His sense of humor was still nonexistent.
"Looting is getting out of control," the voice continued. "Last night was the fourth break-in this month and they somehow got into Father Anthony's office."
"I'm sure it was by mistake. I searched the entire room and the only thing I found missing was an ashtray," Marius said. Katrine pressed her lips into a thin line and shrank into herself, bracing against the weight of Levi's glare. She purposely turned her head away and stared at the sliver of a painting visible from her position.
"Have you discussed the predicament of Nick with Father Lucian yet?"
"Yes. He agrees that it was presumptuous to travel to Ehrmich without requesting permission," Marius said.
The other man tutted. "If he really believes that the Survey Corps has his best interests in mind, he must be drinking again."
"Shameful," Marius agreed. "I've already sent word to Major Sannes as Father Lucian requested."
"Might not be necessary. Evidently, the Scouts commander is in a coma."
Levi tensed, strong enough for her to feel his nervous energy, and her eyes darted to his face. His brow was furrowed as if he could see through the curtain and into the men's faces and was holding himself back from ambushing them and demanding answers. But how did the man who seemed able to make time bend to his will fall into a coma? Though she didn't care much about what happened to Erwin, panic swirled in her gut when she thought of Mila, Sara, and Elisabeth. He'd stay in a coma if anything happened to them.
"That's what happens when you resist the natural order," Marius said.
"Precisely. Now, where was that report on Edelweiss's accounts you prepared? I'm nearly certain the nuns are overspending on their embroidery thread."
"Sister Agnes claims they haven't gone over budget, but she was never good with sums."
"Most women aren't." The two snickered. Katrine rolled her eyes so hard it was a miracle they didn't fly out of her head.
"Thank you for your hard work, Marius. But remember to lock the door when you leave this time," the other priest said, and his footsteps moved to the door and receded down the steps. Marius made no sound that hinted he was leaving; instead, he moved to the desk and opened one of the drawers. Her heart sank, anticipating standing motionless behind the curtain for hours, but Marius shut the drawer and his footsteps also faded away. Holding in a sigh of relief, Katrine stepped to the side, intending to move out from the curtain, but Levi snatched her wrist and dragged her back.
"Wait," he whispered. "They might come back."
"So we'll stand here until the sun comes up?"
"Don't be stupid."
Katrine ground her teeth and turned back to the painting she'd noticed before. It was mostly blue, a lighter shade at the top darkening to navy, with a strip of gold at the bottom. She thought she could see a line of black, but wasn't sure.
"We're leaving tonight," Levi said.
"But we haven't found anything!"
"No one to blame but yourself. You taking that ashtray made them skittish."
"It was brilliant," she declared. "They thought it was just a robber."
"And I'm sure it was on purpose," he said in that awful deadpan that made her want to punch him. Instead, she remained motionless and studied the painting, counting the seconds until Levi determined it was safe to move. She got to ninety when he slipped out, and she moved closer to inspect the picture. The darker blue appeared to be water while the lighter half must be the sky. People dressed in browns and grays walked in the water toward somewhere unseen. At the bottom in the gold bar, there were two lines of black text; one was a line of the same symbols in the letter. The other simply said they marched across the seas.
Katrine narrowed her eyes. Who moved? From where? And where was this sea? She'd heard about seas before, vast bodies of water that stretched on forever, but never read anything that confirmed their existence. She then noticed the number five at the bottom left corner. Did that mean something? Was this one of a series?
"Give me the letter," she said, holding out her hand without taking her eyes off the painting. Examining it again, her suspicions were confirmed—the symbol with two triangles appeared four times, once side by side, and there were three that appeared in a sequence that must be "the." She knew before Levi even slapped the letter in her hand that this was an answer to the code. "See, the symbols repeat here and the letters do the same. This is part of the key," she said, excitement leaking into her voice.
"Are you sure?" He didn't sound doubtful, but Katrine still bristled.
"Are you blind? They're the same. Look." She tapped a symbol in the letter that appeared on the painting. He leaned forward to see where she was pointing, a line appearing between his brows.
"Hmm. Looks like you found something, then." His eyes darted back to her. "We need to go."
Katrine folded the letter and tucked it in her jacket, waiting for Levi to circle around the desk to the door. Before she followed him, she pulled open the drawer and felt the bottom for the letter to Marius. It was gone. "Asshole," she muttered.
They galloped to Ehrmich as if Titans snatched at their heels, and there learned the Scouts had gathered in Trost, so when Katrine and Levi found the mob of exhausted soldiers gathered outside the Survey Corps' compound, she had not slept for a day and could barely sit upright. But she frantically scanned the crowd for her squad members, desperate to find Mila's dark head towering over the rest, and when she found her, Katrine almost cried out in relief. She leaped off her horse and sprinted toward her.
"Mila!" Katrine rushed into her, clutching her tightly.
"Katrine! Oh, I'm so glad you're back." Mila returned her embrace. "It was bad, it was awful," she said, voice choked.
"You're not hurt?" Katrine searched her for cuts and bruises, but Mila shook her head.
"Sara, Katrine's here." Mila pulled Sara away from a conversation with a handsome soldier. She seemed unfazed.
"How was he?" Sara whispered conspiratorially.
Katrine shook her head. "Where's Elisabeth?" There were a number of ways Elisabeth could react to her brother's predicament.
Sara and Mila exchanged a glance, and Sara tilted her head away from the crowd. "Follow me."
"She's not with Erwin?" Katrine trailed them past huddles of soldiers, through an alleyway into an empty street.
"She didn't want to see it," Mila said quietly. "It's...gruesome."
They were silent as they walked down the street to another alleyway. Elisabeth sat on an empty crate in the shadows, face pale but stoic, bouncing her knee ceaselessly like if she stopped she might explode. She stared at the ground, waiting for it to swallow her. Though she must have seen them, she made no acknowledgment.
Elisabeth, Katrine knew, did not want assurances that everything was going to be fine, that Erwin was going to wake up soon and return to business as usual. Nobody knew if that was true, and she was not going to lie. Katrine wasn't even sure if Elisabeth necessarily wanted her older brother to open his eyes. But if he didn't, then Elisabeth's entire purpose for being in the Scouts was gone, and then what would she do? Katrine understood the fear of uselessness, of losing her purpose.
She took a deep breath, steeling herself, and wrapped her arms around Elisabeth. Not wanting her comfort, Elisabeth struggled and attempted to push her away, but Katrine planted her feet and squeezed her harder until she went limp and hot tears soaked into her shirt.
"I was supposed to make sure he didn't do anything stupid again," Elisabeth muttered.
"Everything he does is stupid," Katrine said.
Elisabeth exhaled sharply and Katrine released her. She turned her face away to wipe her tears. "Leave me alone, I'll be okay," she said shakily after a moment, but there was no spite in her voice. She'd stopped bouncing her knee.
Katrine nodded. "Find me if you need to complain." She motioned to Sara and Mila and they walked back to the main road.
Sara grabbed Katrine's arm. "But really, how was it?"
"It was fine." Katrine kept her voice neutral and brushed her away.
Mila threw up her hands. "Fine? That's all you're going to say?"
"The really interesting thing is what these Cult priests are up to," Katrine said, trying to deter them.
Sara shrugged. "Who cares about them?" Mila nodded in agreement.
Katrine groaned. It had been a mistake to tell them anything. "It was very boring. All he did was whine about the weather. Now I have to go crack a code, which I'm sure you don't care about." She nodded back toward the alleyway. "Keep an eye on her."
"More details later!" Mila demanded. Katrine waved a hand back at them, already running toward the compound.
She burst into her room and ripped off her boots, tossing them away, and pushed her bag and the other pairs of shoes littering the floor into a corner. Now there was only a blank wall in front of her. Perfect. She yanked open the single drawer in her tiny desk and grabbed her thickest black pen, and then wrote each symbol of the code on the wall with enough space between each. Then, over each symbol that appeared in the painting, she wrote the corresponding letter. Eleven letters, three of them vowels. Not bad.
Throwing herself on the floor and extending one leg, Katrine spread out the pages of her copy of the letter. Carefully she wrote the letters she already knew above the symbols and then assessed the sentences. She already knew "the," "they," and "that," which would be helpful, and she had three of the letters of "Titan." She was confident in her ability to solve it but had no idea how long it would take.
Katrine stared at the wall, and then at the papers, and tested different combinations in her mind until her eyes turned dry and the sun was setting outside her window. Then she rushed down the hallway into the kitchen and made herself two cups of tea, diluted with the last of the milk that someone would whine at her for using. After walking as quickly as she could back to her room without splashing herself, Katrine downed them both in quick succession to keep herself focused.
Back to it. Candles lit, she puzzled over the sequence of symbols that appeared over and over again on the first few pages but had no corresponding letters. It was entirely possible that she was beginning to hallucinate the pattern since it had been two days without proper rest, but her muscles were tense and Katrine knew she couldn't sleep until she had made sufficient progress. Instead, she stumbled back down to the kitchen for two more cups of tea, this time bitter and watery, and set the empty mugs beside the first two.
There was more written on the wall, but most of her guesses had little question marks beside them, and she hadn't found anything that looked like it spelled "Titan." Katrine took a slow breath, placing a cold palm on her forehead, and rose to her toes on the sturdy floor beneath her. Right as she closed her eyes and felt the sting of tears, only because her eyes were dry and she'd partly tamped down the frustration growing in her stomach, her door creaked open and someone entered. She kept her eyes closed.
"Heard you— Woah, what is all this?" It was Hange, and Katrine opened her eyes, relieved.
"The Cult's secret code. And I'm gonna crack it." Katrine turned to Hange with a sure grin that was partially to encourage herself, but it faltered when she saw Hange's swollen, red face. "Shit! You look awful. What happened?"
"Steam. The Colossal Titan! It was amazing, all that power, boiling me alive—"
"And you're not concerned it ruined your face?" Katrine winced.
"Ah, I'm sure it's fine. What're you still doing up?"
"I should be asking you that, you should be resting."
"I've been sleeping for hours and already wasted too much time!" Hange tugged at her pajamas. "Another 104th cadet is an intelligent Titan! I need to organize for the rest of them to be tested. Who knows how many more they'll be!"
"Count me in," Katrine said.
"That's why I'm here! Also, one of them returned to his home village and claims he saw a Titan that looks just like his mother. It apparently was able to communicate with him, too. Not much, just mumbling, but it sounded like 'welcome.'"
"Are you sure he's not lying? What if he can turn into a Titan too, and this is all some elaborate plot?"
"Worth the risk. A Titan replicating human language? I need to hear it for myself." Hange adjusted her glasses. "Tell me if I sound crazy, but if a human could turn into a Titan and back again, then isn't it possible someone could turn into a Titan permanently?"
Katrine considered the theory. Certainly, Titans resembled humans in many ways, but they just destroyed and devoured mindlessly. She'd never seen anything that looked like intelligence or depth in their eyes before she slashed them. But Hange didn't sound crazy. She sounded like she was onto something. "I can see how this kid could help. Just don't let him eat you."
Hange smiled. "I'll try. So, what's this you're writing?"
Katrine explained how she and Levi had found the Cult's letter, and then where she'd discovered part of the key. Hange raised her eyebrows when Katrine described the strange painting depicting people walking across the sea.
"Are you sure they're people? What if they're really Titans?" Hange asked.
"They looked like regular people, not Titans. They had clothes on."
"But, people can't just walk through lakes. If seas are supposed to be so much bigger, then that's impossible."
Katrine tapped a finger against her chin and was silent for a moment. Hange was right.
"Probably a good idea for you to figure out if they say 'Titans,'" Hange said, pointing at the wall.
Katrine slapped a hand against her forehead. "Really? This whole time I was looking for 'tits.'"
Hange snickered, but flinched and brought both hands to her cheeks. "Ow, ow! I can feel my face cracking!" She moaned and fanned at her face. She looked so ridiculous that Katrine couldn't help giggling too, and soon the two of them lay sprawled on the floor, cackling. Katrine laughed so hard she couldn't breathe and felt like she was drunk.
"You look like a tomato!" she said, wiping tears away from her eyes. "I'll let you borrow my lipstick, then no one could keep their hands off you!"
"You have such dark circles under your eyes that you look like a raccoon!" That sent them howling again.
The door banged open and they both jumped, hiccuping on their laughter.
"Hange, get the hell back to bed—" Levi stepped inside, voice harsh and demanding as usual, but then he faltered. He took in the letters and symbols covering the wall, his disbelief turning into horror and then indignant wrath. She bit down hard on her tongue, stifling her giggles, because she was dying to hear what was going to come barreling out of his mouth. She hadn't even intended this to happen, but it must have been fate, that lucky doll poking out of her bag, because this was the only way she was ever a thorn in his side.
"What the fuck is this?" Every word was a bullet.
"Hey, Hange, Hange," Katrine said, elbowing her. "Looks like he saw the writing on the wall!" They collapsed into snickers, and she imagined that Levi was glaring at them.
"Who's painting over this when you're done? When even are you going to be done?" His question seemed more like a rebuke.
"Don't rush me," Katrine said, clearing her throat. "Genius takes time."
"At the pace your genius is going, this'll take a year."
"Lay off, Levi, you'd take a decade," Hange said, still smiling. She fanned at her face.
"How do you know that, four-eyes? And your priest's a dead man. Cult's suspicious." He gave her the same critical stare.
"What?" Hange asked, hands still and serious again.
"Cult thinks he talked too much."
"But he—" Hange frowned. Levi folded his arms. She stood and pushed her glasses up her nose. "Is he still in Stohess?"
"Assume so."
Hange darted past Levi and out the door without another word. He watched her run down the hall and then turned back to Katrine. Normally his expression ranged from bored to irritated, but this was neither. Still seated on the floor, Katrine brought her knees to her chest. It was a pointed look, one that made her feel pinned, but it was inscrutable. Then he turned on his heel and was gone just as quickly as Hange.
She rubbed her arms, but shook her head. Obviously, since she was teasing out this code, she was seeing hidden meaning in everything. Overthinking things, she decided, and resumed her work.
Blinking away the bright morning sunlight, Katrine flicked her forehead. She'd nodded off. There were now more letters above the symbols, but also more question marks. Eight empty mugs stained with red marked her progress.
They were tricky, these priests. There was no pattern that suggested a series of symbols that said "Titan," or the names of the Walls. Interestingly there was a regularly repeated string of symbols in the first few pages, but it had no known letters. It always preceded about ten other symbols, but the ones with letters she knew seemed unfamiliar and didn't lend themselves to easy guesses.
Katrine slapped her thighs to wake herself up and, deciding to take a new approach, dragged herself down the hallway for another two cups of tea. Her exhaustion amplified the bitter taste and she held her nose to drink it. Only slightly rejuvenated, she analyzed the symbols she already knew. Were there any clues in the shapes themselves? If she tilted her head to the left the "A" symbol maybe did look like the letter "A." She thought about that, and all the other associations she could make with the symbols no matter how tenuous, until the sky was dark and she found herself upside down with her heels against the wall, draped over the edge of her bed pushed in the corner opposite the writing. She had an "M," and that flipped was a "W," so would the Cult do the same? Or was that too obvious?
"Don't do that, you'll get the wall dirty."
Katrine blinked, eyes dry, and saw Levi standing in the doorway watching her with a wary expression. How long had he been standing there? "It's my room, I can do what I want."
He assessed her work and said nothing. Katrine wondered if he was going to crack and start wiping it away with his sleeve, but instead, he surprised her by sitting on the bed, his weight causing her to shift closer. She pressed her feet into the wall to keep herself from sliding into him.
"You think being upside down is going to help your genius?" he asked, peering down at her.
"New perspectives always help." She raised a hand to her neck to touch her hair but realized it was dangling on the floor, so she folded her arms and set her gaze at the wall until she couldn't feel his eyes on her. Then she looked up at him, at his jawline, for the little scar she knew was there but too faint to see. The cut on his neck was still bandaged. "Erwin still out?"
"Yeah. Sure taking his sweet time." Levi's tone revealed nothing but Katrine knew he was anxious. She looked back at the wall, where every promising idea seemed like nothing.
"Do you need anything?" he asked.
Suddenly her heart floated out of her chest. "Um. No," she said, furious at herself for not thinking of some absurd quest like two still-warm eggs freshly laid on the other side of Trost.
He nodded and stood, and with one last glance at the wall, he was gone. There was no longer a depression in the bed, no hint that he'd even been there, but the buzzing in her chest remained and she stared at the ceiling instead of the letters. She was energized, jolted awake, but thoughts of the symbols and words scattered. There was no way she could focus again. Unmoving and never taking her eyes off the little clock on her desk, Katrine waited fifteen minutes and then tugged on her boots and stormed outside.
Twenty minutes later Katrine was past the Wall and at the clearing with the wooden stage Erwin liked to use for recruitment speeches since it was big enough to hold all the cadets. No one ever came by at night, though, and it was hidden away by enough tall trees that no one could find her. She could see the floor and her hands in front of her, though, and that was all that mattered.
Katrine peeled off her boots and her socks and grimaced at the sight of her feet. Years of dancing had left them calloused and rough. It was ironic that everyone marveled over ballerinas' toes, but underneath the satin, their feet were actually hideous. It was true about a lot of pretty things.
There was no point in dancing. Even if she wanted to go back to the Mitras Company, which she would rather cut off her feet than do, they wouldn't want her back. It was impossible to return from eight years gone and compete with girls half her age hungry for the spotlight. She was never going to be as streamlined and pretty as she used to be, certainly not with the little scar on her temple that was easily hidden with makeup but not one anyone wanted to see in stark daylight.
And yet she rose to the edges of her toes and lifted her arms toward the night sky because it was the only way her mind quieted. She was no longer herself, but something light and ethereal, a string of movements and leaps. She also wanted to be perfect, needed to make herself perfect, something she still wanted more than anything even though it was impossible. Some logic could be ignored. Besides, she told herself, it was good to have a skill that could make money in the new places she'd find one day. Maybe they'd want to see her dance and paint on her smile.
She stretched her legs to warm herself up and then slid into a center split, relishing the familiar twinge in her muscles, and sighed, resting on her elbows. Slowly she inched her fingers forward, and then the rest of her torso so that her stomach was flat against the stage. Classes often began this way with girls splattered on the ground, complaining about their sore muscles. Little pancakes, they called themselves, legs extended and pressed against the cold wooden floor.
There was a snap in the woods to her left and Katrine immediately raised her head. Probably an animal, but it sounded too heavy. Then there was a gasp, definitely human, and Katrine pressed her hips down harder, irritated.
"Are you sure this is the right way?" a female voice asked.
"Yeah, I'm pretty sure," a male voice answered.
Katrine lowered her head and gently smacked her forehead against the floor. She did not want to be the unwilling audience to a couple's rendezvous. Three dark forms materialized in the trees and then walked out into the clearing.
"Here, I see it...Oh! Captain— I mean, Katrine," Jean said.
"Johan," Katrine said flatly.
"I, well, we, had something to ask you," he said. He seemed to have given up on correcting her.
She scowled at them. "Did you follow me?"
"Yeah," the brunette girl admitted. Katrine recognized her from that first meeting in Ehrmich, which she realized was not long ago, even though it felt like months. The other was a short man with close-cropped hair who stared at her legs and looked both amazed and intimidated. Katrine decided she didn't like him.
"Sasha." Jean threw her an exasperated look. He turned back to Katrine with a more apologetic expression. "We wanted to ask for your help. Training, I mean. You're so efficient with ODM."
"You trying to show off for Mikasa, Jean-bo?" The shorter man had a smarmy grin.
"Shut up," Jean snapped, but his face betrayed him. "You remember almost dying three days ago? I'm going to get better and you should, too." At that, his companions fell silent.
Katrine considered the trio before her. She'd wanted to be alone and let the night air clear her head, but this would make for a much better distraction. And it would be selfish to reject someone asking for help. Besides, Jean had been very cooperative in Ehrmich, and she was curious about this Mikasa, who sounded like unfortunate news for Mila. "Okay, okay, Johan, who're your friends here?"
"Connie," the other man said, jumping forward. "Connie Springer. And that's Sasha Braus."
"She can talk for herself, Conrad," Katrine said.
"Connie," he corrected. "Somebody told me you were a dancer, in Mitras."
Katrine shook her head sadly. "Nope. Sorry." She pointed and flexed her right foot. "This somebody's playing a mean trick on you."
Sasha looked confused. "A lot of people said that."
"Well, it must be a group effort."
They exchanged puzzled glances. Katrine stifled a yawn and rested her chin on her palm. "How do you all know each other?"
"104th," Jean said, right as Connie cut him off and exclaimed, "The new Levi squad!"
Suddenly she was wide awake. "Really, now?" she asked, cocking her head. This was certainly a distraction.
"Yup. Best of the best," Connie said with a grin. Sasha and Jean looked nervous.
"Good enough for Captain Levi, wow," Katrine said. "All right, Johan, can you promise me that neither you nor your friends here are actually Titan shifters? I can't trust anyone from your corps."
"No!" Jean said.
"I don't know why I bothered asking, of course you'd say that. Anyway, if you want my help you have to pass the test first."
"What test?" Connie asked.
"Run five laps and let me think about it."
The three set off running while Katrine hoisted herself to her feet. If she wanted to do this right, she'd have a barre and mirrors and a cane like Mr. Kaiser to smack a wandering leg. But she had none of these, and she didn't want to beat the life out of them just yet.
Jean, Sasha, and Connie returned to the center of the dirt plot and Katrine hopped off the stage. She assessed them with the sternest expression she could muster. "All right, we're starting with pliés," she said, standing straight with her feet facing outwards, heels touching. "Copy me. Heels together, bend your knees into a diamond. I want thirty clean ones." She demonstrated, sinking and rising, and held her bent arms in front of her.
"A what?" Sasha asked.
"Plié. A basic step but one of the most important. All your leaps start and end with one and it also starts most of your turns."
"But how does this help with ODM?"
"Good question, Sasha. This helps open your hips and condition your muscles so you're less likely to injure yourself when you land."
Sasha smiled while Connie jutted his chin.
"Johan, knees over your toes. You look like you're trying to break your legs instead of using them as springs." Katrine was appalled at Jean's poor form.
"What does plié even mean?" Jean asked, his knees creaking.
Katrine shrugged. "Dunno." All the ballet terms were strange flowery words that she never heard outside of the practice hall, but no one, not even Mr. Kaiser, knew where they came from. She always kept an eye out for them in the books she read, but found nothing.
"But if you're a dancer how do you not know—"
"No back-talking your instructor. Ten more." Katrine shook her head but choked when she saw Connie's atrocious attempt. "I don't want to see you on your toes! Glue those heels to the ground, Ronnie!" Connie dropped his heels but toppled backward, making her sigh. The only one with even halfway decent pliés was Sasha, who got a nod from Katrine. When they finished, shaking out their legs, she pounced on them again.
"I wouldn't call these beautiful but I'm not working with much, am I? And these were just demis. Now we're moving to grand pliés." Katrine demonstrated the same movement as the first plié but sank deeper, knees fully bent, heels off the ground and on the balls of her feet. "Now I want you on your toes, Conroy."
"Connie!" He was turning red, obviously frustrated.
Katrine scratched her head. "Wasn't that what I said? Thirty clean ones."
"This was a terrible idea," Connie grumbled.
"Quiet, Constance, a good dancer keeps her mouth shut and her hips pliant like wildflowers in the meadow," Katrine said, repeating what Mr. Kaiser had told her so many times she'd lost count.
"But I'm not a dancer—"
"Did I ask for excuses? Ten more from you."
Connie scowled. "I told you asking Levi would be better," he muttered to Jean.
"Oh, I'm not good enough for you, Constantine? Make that twenty." Connie finally pressed his lips together and continued moving up and down.
"Levi isn't human," Jean said, breath labored. "Better to ask a normal person."
Katrine's eye twitched. Even though Jean was right, she hated being compared, and she searched for something to correct. "Johan! Smooth! Continuous! Not choppy!" She bit her tongue to keep herself from giggling. Mr. Kaiser never looked like he was enjoying himself when he screamed at them, but maybe she'd been wrong all this time.
They finally completed the exercise, hands on their knees and panting, and Katrine shook her head at their sorry state. "Time for leg lifts." She pointed her right toe and raised her leg, extending her hands to her sides. "Keep it up for a minute."
"Easy!" Sasha said, smiling.
"Don't get too confident," Katrine said, knowing their thighs would be quivering after thirty seconds. As expected they all grimaced and their legs sank to the ground. She smirked and slid into a right split. "So, how did you all end up with the misfortune of being in Levi's new squad?"
"Erm, I don't really know," Jean said, wobbling on one foot.
"Because we're amazing! We're at the top now, Jean." Connie lifted his chin. "Just you wait, I'll have my own squad in a year."
"If you can't handle some pliés, Connie, that's never happening," Katrine said. He looked elated and she wrinkled her nose. Too easy.
"Connie can barely get himself on his horse," Sasha said, giggling.
Connie slammed his foot down. "Not true, Taters. One day you'll all be taking orders from me. Levi included."
"You're not scared of him, Connie?" Jean asked, smug. "If not, you're stupider than I thought."
"Ah— Well," he said, laughing awkwardly.
Sasha's expression turned thoughtful. "Levi might be scary, but he's not heartless."
Jean nodded. "You know, one time I was trying to buy bread at Old Nan's but I didn't have enough on me, and right when she was starting to scream Levi popped up out of nowhere and spotted me," he said. "I tried to thank him but he told me to get lost."
"I think he's lonely," Sasha said. Katrine looked up from the blade of grass she was picking at, and from the corner of her eye saw Jean and Connie turn to Sasha in surprise.
Connie snorted. "That's impossible."
"He seems too tired for someone who's that strong. And he's always staring off at something, but it's not like he's looking for anything."
"I don't think he has time to be lonely, Sasha," Jean said.
"That doesn't matter." She lowered her leg.
Jean and Connie looked at each other with narrowed eyes but didn't say anything. Katrine, suddenly cold, stared at the blade of grass in her hand. An uncomfortable silence settled over them. "Switch legs," she said, voice distant. They complied.
"When are you going to Ragako, Connie?" Jean asked.
"Tomorrow." His voice was quieter than before.
That's the kid Hange was talking about, Katrine realized, and felt a little sorry for him. He was obnoxious, but no one should have to go confirm or deny that their mother had become a Titan.
She led them through battements, arabesques, and different arm holds until their limbs shook and the sun peeked through the trees. The entire time Sasha's words echoed through her head, though she knew that couldn't be right. Levi had made clear that it wasn't a good idea to be anywhere near him. Her eyelids grew even heavier. If he was lonely, he sure wanted to keep being lonely.
"When're you training us on ODM, Katrine?" Sasha was the only one who still looked enthusiastic. Connie and Jean could barely stand straight.
"Well, now that you've got some basics down we can assess later," Katrine said, tugging her boots on. She didn't want to commit.
Jean elbowed Connie. "Your basics sucked, man."
Connie slapped him away. "You know what sucked, Johan? Your abra-esque. I am the king of abra-esques."
"Arabes—" Katrine started to correct him but stopped, shocked, because that was the word. King. That four-letter word that kept repeating in the letter, before the other strange words she couldn't figure out, because they must be names. She gasped, clapping her hands together. "That's it!"
"That's what?" Jean asked, but she was already sprinting away.
"Later!" she shouted.
Katrine burst into her room, panting, and after consulting the pages, carved the new letters over their corresponding symbols on the wall. Then she flew down the letter, filling in the new words so quickly her wrist began to sting, and then reread her work. The gaps in the sentences shrank, recognizable words appeared, and she crossed out the question marks.
As light began to stream into her window, every symbol had a corresponding letter and the words were translated. She collapsed on the floor, elated, but so exhausted it felt like her muscles had disappeared and she could no longer stand. Grasping for the pages, she attempted to understand the sentences but her mind refused to register their meaning, and before she realized what was happening the pages slipped out of her fingers and she was asleep.
When Jean, Sasha, and Connie showed up for surprise morning training limping and moaning, Levi suspected something was amiss.
He wanted to start out his new squad on the right foot, because they were a group of troublemakers, so that meant training at the crack of dawn. Of course he was already up by then, and if he was ready to start the day, then shouldn't they be as well?
But after their piss-poor laps and pathetic excuses for push-ups, Levi heard the three muttering to each other.
"Why'd she keep getting my name wrong? It's not hard," Connie huffed.
Sasha sighed. "That's not the point."
Then he knew, and decided the first thing he was going to do when training was over was chew her out. A shower and tea could wait.
Once the sun was up and all of them were heaving and whining, Levi stalked up the stairs, insults prepared, ready to berate her for wasting time tormenting his new subordinates when she had a much more crucial task. The curiosity of how she was coming along bit at him too, but that was less important. Her door was cracked and he kicked it open. "The hell are you doing with my—"
Katrine was curled up on the floor, knees to her chest and arms shielding her face, surrounded by paper and candles and empty mugs. She didn't stir. He turned to the wall and saw that each symbol had a corresponding letter carved into the wood, and he gave a low whistle.
Levi wasn't surprised that she'd solved it, but that she'd done it so quickly. All he'd been useful for in Stohess was for picking a few locks and smacking some MPs upside the head, but what she did was incredible, something he didn't think anyone else could do except maybe Erwin. He looked down at her, clad in a thin jacket, and felt cold for the first time that morning. Her hair was unkempt and a few blonde strands rested over her forehead.
Shaking his head, Levi let himself be distracted by the mess. She'd left candles burning like she wanted the whole place to burn down, and she certainly didn't need more than one mug. But then he looked back at her again. It was wrong to see her asleep on the floor. People like them had already slept on floors enough. And, if she spent however many hours asleep there, she would complain about her stiff back for days. That was it.
Don't get involved. But Levi crouched down next to her, aware that his hands might be dirty though he'd already washed them.
"Go away," Katrine murmured and he froze. He shifted to his back foot and the creak was deafening.
"Mom! I said, go away." His fingers relaxed, but only a bit, and he still held his breath.
She was silent for a long moment. "No, he's not," she finally muttered, with more force. Levi didn't know who this was, and hoped it wasn't him, but also didn't want it to be anyone else, either.
He quickly stood, blew out the candles, and brought the mugs back to the kitchen, carefully avoiding the red stains. But instead of washing them like he should, he could only think of how pained she sounded, how cold she looked, and he strode back to her room where she hadn't moved at all.
What a stupid idea. She still had her boots on. Those were definitely dirty. He could spend all day debating with himself until she woke up and asked him why he was standing there, and for that he did not have a good answer prepared.
Setting his jaw, Levi crouched down again and in one swift motion picked her up and deposited her on her unmade bed. She was lighter than he anticipated; she had an aggressive confidence that made her seem more substantial than she really was.
Katrine didn't wake up, but she shifted her arms and Levi could then see her face. Her expression didn't look peaceful, but troubled, like she was continuing to worry about whatever problem she should have left behind in her waking hours. She looked like she was thinking too hard, considering every possibility that could come her way and how best to fight it. It was too familiar, a fear he knew. And he'd seen that face on her before, stained with the hurt that he'd caused.
He suddenly felt awkward, like an intruder, and silently left.