Dear Levi,
I've spent the last two days gathering information (and before you lose your temper again, fear not—I was quite discreet), and based on what I've heard, I am very concerned. From what I can piece together, this is what happened:
As punishment for your various infractions, Section Commander Flagon handcuffed you to one of the poles out in the courtyard and left you outside all night. He released you in the morning to perform your duties throughout the day, and then imprisoned you again at curfew. This apparently happened for three nights in a row. Although I have received some conflicting reports, at least one of which claimed that you stayed awake all three nights yelling obscenities out of pure spite (which is not impossible to believe), it sounds like he bound your arms stretched out above your head so that you could not fall asleep without breaking your wrists. Apparently, you also spent your last two nights outside in freezing rain, which (in combination with the sleep deprivation) is how you fell ill.
If this version of events is true, it is very serious and completely unacceptable. While the Scouts take our code of conduct seriously, we are not savages and do not tolerate treating our recruits like animals.
That being said, could you please confirm or deny this report for me? I intended to speak to you about all this earlier today, but when you saw me coming, you immediately ran in the opposite direction. (Speaking of which—grow up, Levi, you're not a child and there's no good reason for you to behave like one.) Of course I ran after you, which only seems to have made you run faster. I must admit, after chasing you around the training forest, over the hill, across the pond, through the stables, past the barracks, and under the outer fence, I was too chagrined to follow you up the tree you climbed to get away from me. I do have some dignity to preserve, and therefore I resigned myself to communicating my questions in writing instead.
But I digress. I also meant to ask—if the story I've heard is true, why in the world did you just stand there and take it? Clearly your constant threats of violence are not empty—you've caused bodily harm to your squad mates for far less. Why allow Section Commander Flagon to treat you like a dog?
On a less important topic (for me, if not for you), I have persuaded Commander Shadis to sign off on your requested list of cleaning supplies. You ought to know that I did so against my better judgment. Indeed, I must confess that upon initially opening your letter and seeing the sheer length of the list, my first instinct was to laugh. I assumed you must be joking. But upon further reflection, I came to my senses. Surely a man unwilling to joke about cobwebs is also unlikely to joke about needing fifty-three gallons of assorted cleaning chemicals.
At any rate, the supplies should arrive here at headquarters within the next few weeks. I know better than to expect any thanks, nor do I want it. Think of this as some small, admittedly insufficient recompense for your ordeal in the courtyard.
I am sorry that you are not enjoying your classes on the Long-Range Scouting Formation. I can see why you might find them tedious, but that cannot be helped. Since we have never actually used the long-range formation in practice before, we must drill it thoroughly before taking it out into the field on this next expedition. If it is any consolation, I doubt you will need to bother with the formation again after that—at least for the foreseeable future. The Regiment Council is only considering the use of the formation because I persuaded Commander Shadis to propose it, and they are unlikely to approve it for regular use, no matter how successful it is on this next expedition. Ah, well. An unfortunate reality, but reality nonetheless. So much for my supposedly being in charge.
You are correct that I designed the formation with defensive maneuvers in mind. After all, the goal is to limit casualties as much as possible. However, questioning your own place in the formation may be getting ahead of yourself a bit. You claim to be the best Titan weapon we have, and yet you have never faced a real Titan in combat. Seeing as living Titans are somewhat different from Senior Team Leader Hange's wooden monstrosities, I will reserve final judgment until you have killed a Titan that is made of flesh and bone. If you are as good as you say you are, Levi, then believe me—I will have no difficulty finding a place for you.
You say that you have nothing to open up about. Forgive my bluntness, but I do not believe you. Even so, I can see that you will not be telling me the truth about yourself until you are good and ready. I am satisfied. Answering to Commander Shadis for all these years, I have developed rather a talent for patience. I am perfectly willing to wait.
As for why I joined the Scouts, there is both a simple and a complicated answer to that question. Since I do have some secrets of my own, I will not be telling you the complicated answer at present. However, I shall do my best to give you the simple one.
I became a Scout because I wish to see humanity freed from the Titan scourge one day. The Military Police swear to protect the peace within the innermost sanctum of the walls. The Garrison soldiers train to defend the walls in case the Titans ever break through. But the Scouts accept a beautiful and impossible burden, all the more beautiful because of its impossibility—the burden of hope. We leave the safety of the walls because we believe there is a future beyond them. We carry the torch of hope that one day, we will be free. Even as a child, I saw that hope as worth fighting for.
But I am far more interested in the reasons why you have joined the Scouts. I know, I know—you first donned the Wings of Freedom under duress. But no matter why you first came to us, I should like it very much if you stayed for different reasons. I suppose only you can sort out those reasons for yourself, but if you don't mind my saying: I've watched you fly, little bird. You were never meant to be trapped in a cage. The sky suits you much better.
One final note—I have begun to detect an ominous undertone in your letters which you can hopefully clear up for me. You seem to make frequent references to your murdering skills, my vulnerability to those murdering skills, and threats to dismember or "end" me. I do hope you are not hiding any foolhardy plans, Levi. I should hate to see you try anything that you might come to regret.
Best,
Erwin Smith
P.S. Wonder of wonders, it appears that you do know my name after all. You would just rather bestow it upon a cat than upon me.