What excuses murder?

Is it self-defense? Defending strangers or relatives? Maybe to some extent, catching your husband cheating on you in your marriage bed. Maybe you'd do well using insanity as a argument or that you did it by mere accident. To a degree, these things excuse killing.

But would those things also excuse you from feeling guilty?

You sighed deeply, you pulled the now messy bind of your hair and massaged your scalp, finger-combing your hair from the oily roots, down to the dry tips. It felt so good freeing them after being bound so tightly. For a while, you forgot the coldness of the night during your lookout, or that you massacred people today.

You massacred people today. By mere hours, you massacre people yesterday. Then the day after this, you massacred people two days ago. They could have families. Lovers. Friends. Someone who loved them. They spent lives you never knew, and you took that away.

You snivelled, feeling the corner of your eyes stung again. Suddenly, you felt disgusted being touched by your own hands. The very same hands that did it. You were grateful at how numbingly cold your fingers felt because at least tonight, they didn't feel like they were a part of you. And maybe if you tried hard enough, you could forget it ever happened.

You caught your tears before they fell. It was the cold that made you shiver, not your thoughts. You did it out of anger. You did it to defend the people you love. Yada yada yada. Did that feel better? No, not even close. Denial was your shield against the war inside your head, but a shield wasn't what you needed. You needed relief. Comfort. Some form of rest, even if you didn't deserve it.

So you hugged your legs and buried your face between your knees. This was the closest semblance to comfort that you could get.

"Oi, Johnson," You heard Oluo's groans while climbing the roof. Immediately, you unlinked your entwined fingers, loosening your arms around your legs and wiped your face in an attempt to look okay.

"Yeah?" You extended your good hand and pulled him up. "Is it time to change already?" It surprised you that he took it. You've always thought Oluo felt some disdain for you.

"No, Eld was getting his shoulder stitched. Petra told me to look out after you. Can you believe that? A man in a committed relationship being told to look after another woman? Ridiculous." You smiled a bit. The way his mouth moved resembled that of a camel's.

"Here." He tossed you a fist of stale bread. "Dinner."

"Thanks." You said, just looking at the pastry in your palm. Somehow, you didn't feel like eating. After what you pulled today, it felt wrong to reward yourself with food.

"You better not be thinking: 'I don't feel worthy to be treated so kindly!' Now are you? Eat! Damn brat, she thinks bread's some cheap food nowadays…" Oluo jeered as he sat beside you. Yeah, it did, and it showed to your face. You let him see it; you just stared at him, and by the slow change in his expression, even in the dark surroundings, you saw the short look of pity.

"We don't need you fainting on us again, ya know?"

That made you take the first bite. It felt like eating soil.

"The captain says if you want hot coffee, there's some inside." It was awkward staring at each other while you ate alone.

"They made coffee?" You couldn't help but ask. A cup could soften this bread. This was just eating bricks at this point.

"The captain did. Weird right? He always drinks tea… maybe he forgot to bring his secret stash."

"Right." You now wanted that coffee. "Can I…?"

"The nails," He gestured with his chin after he glugged from his wineskin. "You got them from the Military Police?" His question caught you off-guard, but nevertheless, you answered.

"Yeah."

"Then that scar in your arm too?"

"No, Trost breach."

"Then today…" He burped, "One in the shoulder, one in the hip." Just where was he going with this?

"The hip was just a graze. The shoulder—"

"That's on you jumping in the open area. Only an idiot would do that."

"Well, I thought I had to." You mumbled. "Though I did more damage…"

"Point is," Oluo emphasized, clearing his throat. "A lot of people have hurt you already. Why add yourself on the list? Take care of yourself." You felt tensed at Oluo's wisdom. That was supposed to comfort you? Was he trying to? What was this— it's okay to feel hurt because you killed somebody?

"I'm not the victim Oluo, I'm—" The word plugged your throat, you choked on it. You knew the right word, but it was difficult to say it nevertheless. "I'm not the victim." You resigned with a sigh. "I killed… today."

Whatever he was doing, it just… it didn't make you feel better. For now, it was just a bunch of words meant to justify why you did it. He should know that things like this worked when you accidentally hit someone too hard during practice, or you sent a risky text message or you had a wardrobe malfunction and you looked terrible. Those are the mistakes that call for Oluo's words.

Massacre will never be one of them.

You kept silent as he rambled on and on about why you shouldn't be too hard on yourself because in the battlefield, people die and get hurt. That some lives were collateral damages. That some things need to happen for the greater good. That what you did was a necessary evil and without it, nothing could move. He went on and on until the words themselves plugged your ears, his logic and principles were lost in the quiet, night air.

"Do you understand?" He concluded. You smiled and nodded, hoping he would climb back down and leave.

"Well, that's what Petra wanted me to tell you." That made you turn to him.

"Okay…?"

"Do you want to hear what I think? Well, what Eld and I think." Oluo linked his index fingers; his wrists rested on his knees. It was not a hard guess that Oluo imitated Levi. But tonight was something so distinctly of him and not that try-hard rugged fanboy. There were slight changes in the way he sat, the way his face twisted to a scowl. It was not Levi at all.

"As someone who has been in the business longer than you have, I'm not happy about it."

One shallow breath escaped from your mouth and since then, you found yourself clinging to what Oluo might say next.

"I don't like that we're killing our own but…" Oluo bit his lip, eyes avoiding you at all cost. "Saving the captain and getting us out of there…"

You thought you forgot how to breathe. No— you did forget.

"I'd be a hypocrite if I say I'm not happy to be alive for another day." You were intently listening now, sitting so still. You felt like if you spoke, you might miss the words that made your eyes sting so much you could hardly see.

"So… we're grateful that you did what you did." He pulsed his eyebrows, winked and got up. "Oi, don't cry! Mother of— I swear, women who cry so easily are the hardest to deal with!"

"Well, sorry!" You chuckled while crying. "I'm becoming more sensitive nowadays!"

You didn't know what to say, but your eyes spoke for you, and they refused to shut up no matter how hard or frequently you wiped your face. Maybe this was the relief you were looking for. Not someone to take the pain away, but have the people whom you pulled the stunt for see the sides you weren't ready to look at.

"But," Oluo wasn't done talking. He regarded you with a serious expression, "We won't forget their names. You shouldn't either." You nodded, your lips slightly tightened.

"It's embarrassing to say this but, if we were better, you wouldn't have to go through that. It was— " Oluo paused, and the unexpected happened: He bowed his head. The sting in your eyes was back once more.

"As your senior, you shouldn't have gone through that— making decisions you'll regret for the rest of your life."

"Sir Oluo—"

"And we're very sorry."

Oluo Bozado. The guy who had the second highest titan kill among his peers with 39 solo kills. Haughty, self-confident and a big talker. The guy who seemed to do no wrong. He let his strength show in every swish of his blade, then amplified it with his loud, big mouth. That guy was now apologizing to you. The apology didn't surprise you as much as this uncharacteristic behaviour no one must've known he possessed.

"Oluo, it's not your fault—"

"Nanaba just got here." Levi suddenly popped out of nowhere, blindsiding Oluo that he jumped up from his polite bow. The younger man staggered; the sudden change of gravity must've made him lightheaded. Good thing you pulled him close before he could fall.

Somehow, you could sense something dark and acidic and scornful around Levi, even when he looked amused. There was a dangerous glint in his eyes that he didn't even seem to bother hiding it at all.

"Oluo, you could get back inside."

"I thought it's my—"

"I'll take your shift, you've done well today. You deserve a rest." You glanced at Oluo, who looked unsatisfied at the abrupt end of the conversation. But Levi's presence itself was a force of nature.

"Don't you think?" And this was Levi showing him that.

Oluo gave you a nod— a cool, friendly one, and hopped back down. Now that you've seen him up close, Levi's fresh set of clothes didn't hide the bulge of bandages wrapped around his chest. So he wasn't only injured at the back?

"I thought you were just—"

"Anything interesting our dear Oluo was saying?"

"Yeah, you were making coffee." You sat back down again, crossing your legs to a lotus sit. "You hate coffee."

"You love it. Here." He handed you a cup of freshly brewed coffee. Now you wondered how the heck did he manage to come up without spilling a single drop?

"I could've gotten them inside." But you inhaled the rich, nutty, smoky aroma.

"And miss a chance to talk to you alone? No." Levi responded as he watched you put the brick-bread on the top of the steamy coffee.

"You wanted to talk about something?"

"You'll go with Nanaba after this. You'll stay with her in the meantime."

"What?" You couldn't believe this. Was he dismissing you? "Why? I don't think I'm that injured to be dismissed."

"Because it's an order."

"By who?"

"Me." Levi flatly said before sipping from his cup. You scoffed but nevertheless tried to control the annoyance. Maybe he was dismissing you because you fucked up. Maybe he didn't need that many people and since he knew how things were going to turn out and he didn't need you in it now.

You didn't try to argue, you didn't even say anything. You let silence draw out whatever he had to say.

"Well that was easy," You could hear the amusement in his tone. "I thought you won't leave it at that, not without a fight."

"Coffee is good." You huffed.

"Damn right, I made that."

"Look, I know what you're thinking—"

"You can't even tell me half of it."

"You're dismissing me because of what happened."

"You need to rest. That's all there is to it. I want you to rest." He calmly started but you were long past calm at this point. You wanted to hit him for some reason. Why? You couldn't possibly tell. You just… do.

"No, you want me to brood over something I don't want to think just yet because you think I'll fuck up tomorrow the same way I did today."

"No—" Levi insisted.

"You could just tell me straight in the face instead of making it sound like a vacation. Like I have power over a captain's orders anyway…"

"Phoebe, that's not it." Levi adjusted his body to face more of you. He looked hesitant for some reason. Hesitant, but sincere. Did he feel sorry for what he just said? "I just…"

You gave him an impatient look.

"I don't want you to become like me."

LEVI ACKERMAN

"I don't want you to become like me."

"What?" She scoffed. She must be thinking where the hell was this conversation going. She struggled to find the words, often looking down and anywhere to look for the right ones. "I don't understand…"

Somehow, the roof was more comforting to look at, than realizing Phoebe had not yet grasped the full weight of what she just did.

"When you kill, you don't just feel guilty over it. They stay with you, Phoebe. Every last one of them. The more you do it, the easier it is to slash someone's throat and get it over with. The power it gives you… it makes you feel safe. Knowing you could stop someone by just cutting them up— it gives you a false sense of control."

"Levi…" I caught a glimpse of her fingers that wanted to tug the hem of my sleeve. I didn't distance myself, but I didn't want it either. Was she thinking just how many people I've killed to think like this? Too many, for the wrong and selfish reasons— just far too many. And if titans were actually humans once, then what does that make me? I understood when the last thing she wanted were comforting words. Those things never helped. It only makes the truth all the more muddy when what actually comforts you is the pure, brutal truth. Looking how it was then and now, It didn't feel any different. If there was an actual difference, it was how I've accepted that I became like this. Filthy to a point that no bath or deep cleaning would wash their blood away.

"And at some point, it becomes the solution to all your problems. Then the next thing is, it's the only way to live."

"Levi, I did that because I thought they…" She trailed off then bit her lip. "It was just a one time thing."

"One time, twice, thrice… it doesn't matter. It became your solution, did it not?"

"I did that for you, you know?" The coffee cup long forgotten, it rolled over the roof, down to the sandy ground of the hut. I could tell she wanted to hit me, but she scoffed her anger instead. "I did that because I can't—" A sharp inhale, "I can't—" She was crying now, she was crying again. "I did that because I don't think I could bear to lose you."

God, she's so beautiful. A beautiful woman crying for me, what did I do right to even deserve the care? There was no salvation nor comfort to the likes of someone where violence was all he knew.

"Levi…?"

But I couldn't help myself. Too late to realize that my hand moved on its own, craving to feel the soft strings of her hair and the cold feel of her cheek. Allow me once to wipe the tears. Just this once, then gods help me— I wouldn't know how to get by the moment I completely let her go.

This is where I draw the line. To be like the rotten, dirty, machine meant to kill to get what he wanted was how she would truly lose herself.

"Neither can I." I said, though in truth, as selfish as this might sound, I wanted her to see the very things that I am, and still find something worthy to care about, even if the last thing it was, was love.

Too cheesy...? No...? I don't know. I felt like I needed to include Levi's POV or else, his actions during the coronation might be interpreted as douchey. :) Hope you like this chapter! I think we'll go straight to Historia's coronation after this, or I might include some Nanaba-OC interaction, but I wanted to go straight to the coronation and post coronation.

Thank you! Hope you enjoyed it! :)