Mr. Ackerman would prefer to not have a caretaker at all.
Karma poked her head around the grand black door and scanned for signs of life. As usual, the penthouse was a furniture display room. There wasn't so much as a condensation ring on the coffee table. The white pillows were square and stiff. Every thread of the sheepskin rug was undisturbed.
The quiet was welcome though—New Marley hadn't been kind that morning. She slipped off her shoes and tucked them against the wall, a fresh wad of tobacco-stained spit on the laces. Yesterday was chewing gum. The day before that was dog urine.
He certainly dislikes anyone who compromises his independence.
Karma knocked with one knuckle and eased open the library doors. Dim lamps and flames cast the mahogany walls in an orange glow. There were no windows. Without the grandfather clock by the maplewood desk it would be impossible to know the time of day.
A familiar wall of newspaper greeted her from that same leather seat.
The man is too stubborn for his own good.
"Mr—um, Levi?" Karma's toes touched the edge of an oriental-style rug. She paused here, waiting for an answer. The newspaper lowered an inch. She met those cold eyes for a split second before he lifted the paper again.
"Karma, the unorthodox caretaker."
Some caretaker. In the week that she'd been working here, Karma hadn't so much as refilled his tea kettle. Despite Yelena's insistence that he was dependent, he never asked for her assistance. She plastered on a smile and hedged with her usual question. "Anything I can do today?"
She heard him scoff.
"Still?" Karma tightened her lips. "Did you just hire me to—?"
"Beardface hired you."
"Right." Beardface must be Yelena. The nickname had to be some inside joke, though Karma couldn't picture brooding Levi and uptight Yelena sharing jokes. "Well, if you think of anything, I'm here till 6:00." Hand on the door, she added, "Even if you just want some company."
Two fingers lifted off the page in a partial wave.
She closed the doors behind her and returned to the main sitting area, deflated. The sofa felt stale beneath her like it was brand new.
This was her prestigious New Marley job. Nothing.
She wouldn't pester him. That was sure to get her fired. She just needed to tolerate the boredom until her audition for the MSA, June 26th. Once her spot was secured, Levi could fire her all he liked. She tapped her knee and eyed the grand piano, wishing she were brave enough to break the silence of the penthouse.
When she couldn't stand sitting any longer, Karma wandered the room's perimeter along the walls of windows, kicking her heels.
New Marley sparkled like an iron crown on the horizon, Marble Estates as its central peak. She could admire the world from the fiftieth floor. The world Levi Ackerman rescued and Ackerman Enterprises rebuilt.
A tragedy that he could only see half of it.
And just how does one live at the top of the world after saving it? Hunkered in a dim room, staring at a wall of nonsense?
Something wasn't right about that.
It wasn't snooping—examining the shelves and peeking into the end table drawers was basically her job. Levi wouldn't care that she happened upon his loose pens and notepads. An unopened box of tissues. A bookend of a horse rallied on hind legs.
But he might not be as tolerant of the tucked away picture frame she dusted with her sleeve. It was a photo of smiling soldiers in brown leather jackets with crisscrossing wings.
She studied it closer. She recognized Jean and Mikasa from all the media coverage. Then there was a blond headed boy and another with a buzz cut. The middle one had brilliant green eyes and dark hair that Levi was knuckle-scrubbing. It was strange to see Levi whole. Uninjured. Happy.
She jolted at the sound of an unexpected voice.
"Toss it."
Levi usually stayed in the library until lunch, but he must've run out of tea. He was in the kitchen refilling the kettle, his expression shadowed by strands of neatly parted dark hair.
Karma's face blossomed red. "Toss what?"
"The picture."
She stared down at the wood frame and water-stained glass. Throw it away? It was clear he loved the people in this picture. By the way he was clenching his jaw, she knew better than to pry.
"Okay," she said with a head dip.
"Careful where you stick your nose." This was the extent of her reprimand.
Once the library doors closed behind him, she tucked the picture frame into her tote bag.
Karma's face slumped into her palm. She had no appetite for the NM Chow she'd salvaged from lunch that day, but she forced herself to eat. She hated wasting food.
"I'm so glad you bring home the leftovers. I hear New Marleyans just toss them. It's disgusting," Sage said, mouth full of teriyaki chicken. "You've crushed the record for longest caretaker, by the way. What's it been? Three weeks?"
"He probably just forgot to fire me. I doubt he even remembers I'm there." Karma plucked out the mini corns and dropped them in Sage's outstretched box. The man fires people for blinking—how she had made it this far doing absolutely nothing but nosing around his penthouse was a mystery. But maybe that was it. Unlike other caretakers, he could just pretend Karma wasn't there. She didn't coddle him. Didn't linger. Didn't compromise his peace.
She wasn't a caretaker at all. She was just another expensive decoration, moldering away in the background with the rest.
Karma sighed. "I'm fine not doing caretaker stuff, but our longest conversations don't even last two minutes. Like, what am I doing wrong?"
"Maybe he's intimidated by you."
"I barely clear five feet—I couldn't even take Jean in a fight."
"Yeah but you're pretty and you speak your mind." Sage leaned forward, suddenly serious. "What if he's built all these walls to protect you? Underneath he could be a total psycho."
"None of the rumors about him are true."
"Well he doesn't even go outside, so how are we supposed to—hey! Knock it off." Sage swatted away Jean, who was balanced on the arm rest, peeking into her box.
"I get why he doesn't leave, to be honest. New Marley is ruthless if you don't fit in. My ribs are bruised from all the elbows. Sucks making the trek everyday just to sit around. If he wants me to do nothing, I'd be a lot more successful from home." Karma tossed a chunk of chicken across the room. Jean leapt after it.
"Karms, that cat is gonna have a heart attack one of these days. He's doubled in size since he got here."
"Oh, he's fine. Did you see him jump just now? That cat's gonna outlive all of us." Karma tossed him another bite.
"Whatever." Sage dabbed her mouth with the side of her hand. "If anyone has any right to complain about work, it's me. Some dude full-on groped me then puked on my shoes. I had to throw them away and wear Greg's nasty gym shoes for the rest of my shift. They were so moist."
Karma's laugh spurted into her wine. "That sucks. Did the guy at least apologize?"
"Nah, he was too drunk to say his ABCs forward. But his friend felt bad and gave me a tip."
"Not enough to replace your shoes though, right?"
"Yeah. Those shoes were from New Marley. They cost me a whole paycheck." Sage's lash extensions fluttered. "Think your friend Levi would be charitable enough to sponsor a new pair?"
"We're hardly acquaintances."
"What are you hoping to be? Lovers?"
"Wha—No, I can't date my boss."
"Ah, still saving yourself for Wickham Moriano, I see."
Karma ignored Sage's comment.
"Well, if you wanna be more than just acquaintances with Levi, there's only one way." Sage made a motion with her hands like she was shoving open a set of double doors. "You gotta force your way through his barriers—do something dramatic."
"Hm." Karma tapped her chopsticks. "Okay. I have an idea."
"Let's hear it."
"He likes to keep out of sight in that library behind a big-ass newspaper. What if I waltz in there and yank the newspaper out of his hands? He'd have to talk to me then."
"Is there a fireplace? You should totally toss it in the fire while you're at it."
"Yeah, there is. That's a good idea—"
"No, Karma, that's a horrible idea."
"How the hell else am I supposed to bust through his barriers?"
"Well he isn't much of a talker, right? So maybe he's a listener. Have you tried playing your music? That'll go straight into his little heartstrings."
"Sage, that's exactly it!"
"I know, it's called wisdom. How do you think I got my name?"
"Your parents had unprotected sex."
The following morning, New Marley couldn't phase her. Elbows. Cigarette butts. Nasty glares. Hissing invectives. None of it dampened the skip in Karma's step that hadn't been there since her first trip to the big city. She even greeted the apathetic doorman with a grin and small talk about the overcast weather.
Karma swung open the door to the penthouse like she was flinging the curtain off a grand reveal. Straightaway, she settled herself on the piano that had been taunting her for weeks. It was strange to feel a cushion dimpled with buttons beneath her rather than a plank of wood.
With a deep inhale, her song began—the song that would touch Levi Ackerman's impenetrable heart. She had imagined this melody all night. It had washed her dreams. She let the music capture the nostalgia as she pictured her happiest memories. For some reason, all of the memories were of Granny Angie.
Sitting on the porch in those creaky rocking chairs to watch the thunderstorms. Hot chocolate and frosted windows. Granny Angie smiling at Karma's wonky crochet oven mitts. The colorful peppers at the farmer's market. The slow metronome of the walker.
Karma lost herself in the memories woven in the music. She saw a white braid and yellow paisley nightgown. She felt the warm embraces, vibrating with hearty chuckles. She smelled the dry perfume that reminded her of a dusty rose.
From the corner of her eye, his wheelchair came into view. Karma grinned. She'd done it. Her sweet song had lured him out of his shell. She could see him wheeling closer until he was right beside her. She felt his stare on her fingers, and her heart pattered.
Levi shut her up in one swift motion.
Her fingers recoiled on impulse as the black key cover slammed like a clam shell, the air around her trapping that residual clang. Karma's mouth dangled as she watched him disappear into the corridor without a word or apology or explanation. The library doors shut somewhere far away. Her shoulders wilted. Her chin fell.
How can we trust our money to a man of loss?
A man of loss. Now she understood why the doorbell never rang. Why not one person from that picture in her tote bag ever stopped to visit. He lost everyone. And he would lose her too. Not that he would even notice.
June 26th arrived.
"I'm leaving for my audition. Yelena gave me permission." Karma's toes scrunched on the edge of that oriental rug again. This was the first time she'd spoken to him since he'd silenced her.
The newspaper hardly budged, but she glimpsed his eye briefly. She tried not to be bothered by the coldness directed at her. There was no need to be; this was the last time she'd ever have to see him.
When he didn't respond, she prodded. "Anything I can do before I'm gone?" Forever, she wanted to tack on.
Levi lifted two fingers in a partial wave.
"Great." Karma slung the tote bag housing her sheet music snug on her shoulder and whirled to leave.
"Karma."
She blushed at the sound of her name spoken in his voice. "Yes?"
Levi put down the paper, and it was just as striking as the first time. She marveled at the white streak that cut through his pale iris all the way to his lips. The white dress shirt cuffed midarm, adorned with a cravat. Karma wondered how often he must get his undercut touched up to keep it that pristine.
He held her eyes like he was trying to commit them to memory. As if he knew this was the last time they'd see each other. All the better for him. Maybe he'd finally convince Yelena to drop the caretaker thing. Then he'd finally have the house to himself like he clearly wanted.
Karma swallowed, watching his lips move.
"Break a leg."
The wall rose up again and the doors closed between them.
Karma studied the auditioner on the spotlit stage, a girl with sleek dark hair and a sparkly red dress. Ballad of the Birds, an original Moriano. A bold choice given the judge. Her trills were a little sloppy, but otherwise she had excellent control. She would most likely get a spot.
The next auditioner took the stage. Three more and it would be Karma's turn.
This was it. This would determine the course of her future. Her knees were competing to see which could bounce the fastest when her phone buzzed in her pocket. Karma tossed whispered apologies as she rushed into an alcove and answered.
"Yelena?" she said, keeping an eye on the stage. The blond boy in a tuxedo took a bow. Two more until she was up.
"Miss Karma." Yelena was curt as usual. "Mr. Ackerman broke his leg. You need to return immediately."
"I'm just about to audition. Can it wait—"
"He broke his leg."
Break a leg.
"What?" Karma finally ripped her eyes from the stage. "Oh my god, I'll call an ambulance—"
"The last thing we need is a media circus. You will drive him to the hospital. Immediately."
"Is there anyone else—"
"You're his caretaker. This is your job."
"But it's my audition. I just need ten minutes—"
"Your job comes first. Your hobby comes second." Yelena hung up the phone, finalizing her point.
Karma stared at the end call screen, vision blurring like she was looking through a glass of water. Leaving now would mean immediate disqualification. She wouldn't be able to audition again for six months. A tear splashed onto the black screen.
She needed to find a way out of this.
There must be someone else who could drive Levi. Or maybe if she sprinted to Marble Estates when she was finished it would be the same as walking there now. If his pain became too severe, he would certainly suck up his pride and call an ambulance. That's what he should've done anyway.
Her gut objected, filled with a heavy brick. It didn't matter how upset she was at Levi for slamming the key cover and treating her like a decoration, he needed her.
But didn't she earn the right to audition? Hadn't she filled her end of the bargain? All those chaotic trips through New Marley. The hours of nothingness. Why should she disqualify herself from her future because Levi refused to call an ambulance?
He could wait ten minutes to spare her waiting six months.
And maybe he deserved to wait. Teach him better than to take her for granted. It wasn't like he wouldn't keep her waiting if the roles were reversed.
It was just ten minutes.
"Karma Adornato." Her name touched the lips of Wickham Moriano. He stood from the judges table, scanning the foldable velvet chairs. She felt her heart tremble. He was as tall, dark, and handsome as she imagined. Cinnamon curls, caramel skin, dark lashes longer than her own. Karma pocketed the phone and approached.
"My composition." Her confidence surprised her as she handed the sheet music to Wickham. He flipped through the pages with a curious expression. Karma held her breath.
"An original." A dimple dug into his cheek. She could have melted to goo. "Whenever you're ready."
The eyes of her competitors followed as Karma took the stage and settled on the piano bench. She blew out a deep breath. Her hands floated to the keys. She had only ever practiced this song on the crappy keyboard tucked against her bedroom wall. This was the first time her music would ever echo through the chambers of a concert hall. She'd expected a bout of crippling stage fright, but it never came.
With a final shoulder roll, her song began.
The melody was tangled with lullabies and nursery rhymes. She was a child. Her tongue dug into the metallic-tasting holes of lost teeth. Her single braid became two. Her shoes switched feet, curving her toes strangely.
Grandma's old, dusty box was in their living room. It made noise under her sticky fingertips. Then melodies. Two hands together made songs. Then stories.
Now those hands were strangled in green rubber gloves. No white keys, only white coats. Heart monitors for metronomes. Stale bleach. Lysol. Tongue depressors. Bed baths.
Everything darkened. The earth began to rumble. Her feet and thousands of feet kicked up dirt, but the red feet were faster. Her lungs were heavy. Her throat choked with sobs. The train was far away. A never-nearing horizon. Grandma fell. The earth bounced her body. Karma kept running.
Kept running.
The train hissed. The wheels rolled. Her legs hurt. Mom and dad joined Grandma. Another minute and she too would join Grandma. Her hand gripped a rod. Her feet slipped on ribs and shoulders. She rolled inside. It was over.
It was over.
The final chord clung to the air like the smoke of a firework. The audience waited until Karma lifted her hands to erupt in cheers. Wickham Moriano clapped with them, standing. The chairs folded in waves as the audience followed.
But Karma didn't have time to revel. She scrambled to stand without bowing, the bench screeching beneath her. She held up the hem of her borrowed dress and ran.
"Miss Karma?" A hand stretched toward her before she could reach the exit. It was Wickham Moriano. He blocked the double doors. Karma wavered under the attention of those hazel eyes. "Won't you stay for a moment?"
"Um…" Did she really need to go back to her caretaker job? She just secured her MSA spot. She had no reason to go back. But her heart was as heavy as an apple in her chest. She chewed her lip. "No, I'm sorry." She shoved past Wickham through the exit.
Karma's legs were trembling by the time she burst into the penthouse. She shouldn't have auditioned. That was wrong. She left Levi to suffer. He was probably writhing in a puddle of his own blood, screaming her name.
But when she entered the library, she found him in his wheelchair reading the paper.
"What are you doing here? I called Yelena." Levi folded the paper and tucked it to his side. He wheeled to the library door frame where Karma was still panting.
"I hope that's the shock talking." Hunched over her knees, Karma studied his face. He was placid as always.
"Don't you have an audition?"
"Don't you have a broken leg?" She looked down and confirmed that his right ankle was bent at a strange angle. How was he stomaching the pain so well? "What happened?"
Levi gestured to the wheeled ladder with a splintered foot tread. "Wanted a book and the damn thing busted." He waved a hand as he wheeled past her. "C'mon. Floor G."
The city blinked through the windows of a sleek red sports car. Ironic, seeing as the whole point of Karma driving was to not draw attention. But here they were, weaving around cars like a whiteboard eraser.
As they pulled into the ER on Main Street, Levi finally looked up from inspecting his nails. "You sure took your time."
"Did you not see that asthma attack?" Karma shifted the interrogation before he could press her further. "If you were that desperate you could've called an ambulance."
"I wasn't."
"Good." Karma pulled into a parking space and killed the engine. "By the way, I'm not technically licensed."
"That would've been nice to know beforehand. Good thing driving doesn't require much brainpower."
"Neither does being an asshole."
A nurse took Levi's vitals then whisked him off for an x-ray. Karma waited in the lobby, gritting her teeth. She should've talked to Wickham—Levi was fine. He definitely could've waited.
She blew off her idol for nothing.
The nurse returned to update her that Levi was in surgery. An hour later, Karma was brought to his recovery room. Levi's eyes were closed. Below his right knee to the tip of his toes was a thick cast. An IV dripped fluid into the crook of his elbow. Tangled wires connected him to beeping monitors.
"The surgery went well. It should be a quick recovery. He'll be a bit nauseated and maybe a little loopy from the pain meds."
"Thanks, doctor."
Karma watched the woman in scrubs close the door, leaving her alone with Levi whose eyes slit open.
"Karma?" His words were gummy like he didn't have full control of his tongue. He looked down at the wires and IV line and moved a heavy hand toward them.
"No, no. Don't mess with that." She grabbed his hand before he could yank out the IV.
"You held my hand." Levi started sputtering with laughter. It was so endearing. Karma's anger fizzled away like bubbles on a soap bar. She even found herself smiling.
These pain meds were a game changer.
"I've never heard you laugh before." Karma settled on the green pleather seat beside the bed and rested her arms on the railing. "You should do it more often."
"I'll think about it."
"You even gonna remember this conversation?"
"Of course."
"You're not gonna go back to hating me when the pain meds wear off?"
Levi laughed again, eyes slightly unfocused. He patted her arm on the railing. "Karma, I like you."
She scoffed. "I'd hate to see how you treat the people you don't like." Then she paused. Toss it. "Do you like those war heroes?"
"Of course."
"Then why did you want me to throw that picture away?"
"I didn't have the right kind of pain meds."
"What?" Karma leaned closer.
"That picture hurts to look at."
"What happened?"
"What?" Levi blinked, scrunching his face like it was bright.
"What happened to your friends?"
"Which ones?"
"All of them." Karma's words poured out in a rush. She could tell the pain meds were wearing off, but she wasn't ready for their conversation to end.
"They're dead."
"No, Jean and Mikasa aren't. Neither are Armin and Connie. Why don't you ever see them? They don't call or stop by or anything—something happened."
Levi laughed, but it was a pained sound. More like his usual scoffs.
"Levi?"
He blinked again, this time as if waking out of a dream. He glanced around the room like he was seeing it for the first time. "What's going on?"
Karma's shoulders drooped. "Nothing. You just came out of surgery."
He studied her proximity on the bed railing with a suspicious look. Karma reeled back into her seat with a muttered apology. Had he even meant what he said? That he liked her? It must've been the pain meds talking.
"Do you remember our conversation?" she said, picking at the skin around her nails.
"Which one?"
"Nevermind."
They listened without speaking to the beeping of the heart monitor until a nurse came in with his dinner. Levi peeked at the plate under the heat cover and grimaced.
"Gross." He poked at the brown-toned mush and choked down a bite.
"Need help?" Karma said, picking up the other utensil.
"I don't need you to feed me."
"I mean do you need help finishing it?"
Levi gave her a weary side-eye.
"I hate seeing food go to waste," she said.
Levi scooted the tray closer to her. "That explains why you've been taking home the catering leftovers. It's been interfering with my midnight snacking."
Karma was surprised that he'd noticed. "Call me Old Marley scum."
"I'd never call you that."
Karma took a bite of slop and made a face. "You know, I can make an exception. I don't think this is technically food. Want me to order takeout?"
"No." Levi shoveled a big bite of pea paste. "I don't waste food either. Call me an Island Devil."
"I'd never."
When the plate was empty, Karma put the spoon down on the rectangle of napkin. She'd been weighing her options during their meal. Part of her wanted to put this whole thing behind her and focus on the MSA, but another part of her was still curious about this handsome war hero.
"Levi," she said. "You're gonna need a caretaker for real this time. Now both of your legs suck."
Levi craned his neck against the pillows. "Don't remind me."
"Do you plan on hiring someone a little more qualified?"
"Too much hassle."
"Well, if you want to keep me, then give me an explanation. You know what I'm talking about, right?" Karma folded her arms and tried to give him a firm glare but it was a bit forced.
"I'm not apologizing for the ladder breaking."
"Okay, but the piano?"
"What about it?"
"You slammed the key cover. I could've lost a finger—one of us needs to keep them all. There's nicer ways to tell someone to shut up, and you know that."
"I'm not good with words."
"I've got two for you: I'm sorry. Can you manage that?"
"I'd rather eat hospital food." Levi sipped his water. When the cup hit the tray again, he took a breath. "If I tell you why, can we skip the apologies?"
"Better be a good reason. Unless your ears were bleeding, I doubt you'll convince me to wave anything."
"Your music reminded me of my friends." Levi hesitated to say more. He fiddled with the ID wristband.
"Your friends from the photograph?"
"Them too."
"What happened? You all looked so happy together."
Levi shook his head. "You'd quit and run if you knew."
"It'd save you the trouble of firing me."
"Why would I fire the least irritating caretaker I've ever had?"
Karma smiled.
"But I won't stop you from quitting." He met her eyes. "It's too bad you had to ditch that audition."
"Well…" Karma looked away, cheeks hot. "I didn't ditch my audition. That's why I was late."
"Figures. I wouldn't have come running to save me either." Levi scoffed through his nose. "Beardface won't be too happy, but she can't fire you."
"I'm sure she'll give me plenty of reasons to quit."
"I'll keep her in check." Levi's eyes flickered to the clock. "You should get home before the tram stops running."
"Right." Karma shouldered her bag. The corner of the picture frame jutted against her side. "I'll be back in the morning. You'll manage until then on your own?"
Levi gave her a wan smile. "Always have."