A/N: This is mostly based around Levi (I don't know, I might continue this story and add in Mikasa). I'm not including Kenny in the "not awakening his Ackerman powers" ordeal because I personally think he should keep his badassery status. Also, Kuchel is referred to as Olympia during the Levi's POV part of the story because it's just a little headcanon of mine that he didn't know what his mother's real name was, and only heard people refer to her as her pseudonym. Enjoy.

"We should make him do the same job as his mother."

Is that the only thing that people cared for in the word? The only thing that was ever on their minds?

It sickened Levi. It sickened him more than that man's filthy hands that were touching him, fists pounding into his head over and over. It felt like his brain was being knocked around against the walls of his skull. Said skull was probably breaking into pieces with each hit that returned to his face. He could taste the blood seeping into his mouth, smell the blood clogging up his nose, and feel the blood streaming down his face.

What was strange was that he couldn't see or hear anything. Wasn't he supposed to have five senses? Well, he did have his eyes closed shut, but shouldn't he be hearing that man's knuckles smacking against his face? Now that he thought about it, that sound had stopped for a while. All he heard now was silence. And also the clip clop of a horse's hooves. Wait, horse? Since when did he own a horse? Something wasn't right. He needed to open his eyes.

It took about a minute, but Levi was finally open to pry open his eyelids. They had probably been sealed shut by dried blood or something. Glancing around, he realized he was in a horse wagon. Several boxes caged him inside of it. There was an unusually bright glow surrounding him. Where was that coming from? Was there a fire somewhere? Why would those disgusting men take him through a fire, unless trying to kill him?

He had to have been with those men that had beaten him earlier. He could recognize their raspy voices coming from outside of the wagon, mixed in with the other hundred voices he could hear. There were lots of people around. Where the hell was he?

Although, those men were some sketchy merchant guys. They were trying to sell a bunch of goods taken from the underground, and they were headed for…the surface.

No way. Was he on the surface?

Levi forced himself to sit up a bit better. He had a massive migraine that trailed from the top of his head all the way to his neck. He winced as he tried to stretch out his aching limbs. Geez, those pigs really had gotten him good. What would Kenny say when he found out that even after everything he taught him, he still couldn't defend himself? No, this wasn't the time to be thinking of Kenny.

Well, his thoughts of that old man were temporarily paused as he continued absorbing his surroundings. He had access to many crates filled with merchandise, and one of them contained his mother's tea set. Could he consider himself lucky? Maybe a little.

He had seen where they had kept it: in a metal black box. He craned his neck so he could analyze all of the crates to find the one he was looking for and…bingo. It was right on the floor pretty close to him too. This was just too easy. He extended his arms to pull the box closer to him, pried open the lid and…

Prostitution was never something Levi ever wanted to subject to anyone, including himself. But was that really all he had left to remember his mother by? Because sitting there on the hard wooden floor of the moving wagon and looking down into the box, he saw pieces. Broken pieces of his mother's once beautiful tea set. It must've shattered during the bumpy ride to the surface and wherever they were headed to next. Were those pigs that careless to just let their merchandise fall apart during shipment?

Well, what did he have left now? That tea set was practically the only good thing that reminded him of his mother. It symbolized her elegance and grace even in the dirty slums of the underground. And now her charm was sitting in pieces in front of him.

So what was next? Prostitution? Levi didn't like to admit it, but some of his earliest memories of his mother had been of her doing that job. He would be hidden underneath the bed and could feel every shake of the mattress from the acts the people above him were engaging in. Or sometimes he'd be tucked away in the closet, but even then there were cracks in the wood that allowed him to see through it and get a full view of the room. And of course, he could never escape the sounds. The sounds of his mother feigning pleasure and her clients whispering vile things into her ear as they roughly handled her body.

Levi would sometimes look at himself in the cracked mirror in their room and compare himself to those clients. He had some of the same features as those men when it came to their bodies. He wondered if he would one day do those same things that they did to his mother. Was he supposed to?

Ever since he learned to speak, he would inquire his mother of the issue, "Am I like them?"

Olympia would shake her head and tell him no, he was different. She always reassured him. But he couldn't help but have a feeling that she was acting, like she always did.

Kenny served as a bit of a wakeup call. That there were men out there in the world that didn't have their mind on just sex. Because right when they met, the man had no intention of ripping the clothes off of his mother's dead body and taking her like Levi thought he would. It was almost a redeemable trait for him. Not Levi that Kenny was much of a redeemable person. But he gave him solid reassurance that he wouldn't have to be like his mother's clients.

That is until he started growing older. And as he walked down the streets of the underground alongside Kenny, passing the many brothels with all the women walking, sitting, or hell, even breathing in a suggestive manner, something stirred within him. Something unfamiliar that he wasn't enjoying. It felt like he should, but he wasn't. And his pants grew tighter as he walked by those women.

He didn't like it at all. It made him want to cut off his privates entirely and live the rest of his sad life like that.

Kenny eventually had to educate him and tell him it was normal to have certain feelings as you mature. It was an uncomfortable talk to have. Levi asked if Kenny ever had such desires, and was met with a nod of confirmation. But then the older man explained that he never acted on them. He had made a promise a long time ago to someone that he would never touch a street whore, or something along the lines of that. Levi could barely remember at this point. But he also sort of wanted to do the same.

That is until he was sitting in the wagon and staring at his mother's broken tea set. He honestly couldn't believe that prostitution was the only way to remember his mother. Was he really going to subject himself to that? Being touched and violated by someone he didn't even know. Being put through inappropriate acts all for some pig's pleasure. Was he willing to go to such lengths?

But his mother was the only good thing he had ever had in this world. And now that she was gone, well, he really wanted something to remember her by. Levi didn't want to wake up one day and struggle to recall the color of her eyes or the shape of her face. So yeah, he decided. He could go to such lengths for Olympia. To have someone's hands on him, shoving him onto a bed, ripping off his clothes…

His clothes. His shirt…

Was he stupid? How could he forget about his shirt? He brought a shaky hand up and clutched the neckline, feeling the wrinkled cloth material of it. It was his mother's. A part from her dress, that is. And since they were the same clothing size, he could fit into the top of it. Back then, when cutting apart the fabric to wear, he had been deciding to wear it so he could remember her…

And god, he had really just claimed he wanted to remember his mother by prostitution instead? Had he really dumbed down Olympia's entire life when he'd known her to her career as a whore and decided that was the only memorable thing about her? Being around these pigs was really infecting him.

Levi gave his shirt one last squeeze before setting the lid back onto the box. No, he wouldn't disrespect his mother by subjecting himself to that.

Now, he just needed to figure out how to avoid it. The men hauling the wagon had claimed they were going to sell him, and if they had taken him with them, they were definitely going to keep their word for it.

He flexed his muscles again, trying to determine if his body was in usable condition. Everything still hurt like a motherfucker, but he could still move and had control. Meanwhile, his mind was also coming up with a strategy to get away from these bastards. He was in a moving wagon with crates trapping in. They were probably moveable but the men would notice him doing so. Not a good idea.

But these were crates filled with all kinds of valuable goods to be sold… So what did one of them probably have? A knife. At least one had to have a knife.

So Levi searched. It was a long process; trying to make little to no noise and not move anything too much, while also attempting to hold back his grunts that came with using his still injured body. Finally, at long last, he found what he was looking for. A kitchen knife. Well, it was a set of them, packaged away neatly so that none of them got damaged. He grasped the handle between his fingers, trying to position in the way Kenny had taught him.

With that in place, Levi slowly moved a few boxes out of the way so he could see the opening where the driver had been sitting. And wouldn't you know it, it was the same man that had pounded his skull in. The guy was lounging around on his fat ass, loosely gripping the reins of the horse, and not realizing that he was about to have a knife shoved down his throat – or something of that sort. Levi was still coming up with how he would finish the man off.

He gripped the knife handle a little tighter. Wait, was he nervous? Well, he had good reason to be. He had never been in a life or death fight with someone without Kenny's supervision. The only fight he had been in without Kenny watching from the sidelines was the previous one where he had been beaten to a pulp, causing his current predicament.

Whatever. He had to shove those feelings down. He had the element of surprise, meaning he had the upper hand. He could do it.

And so he did. Levi crept up behind the man, and once he was close enough, held the knife with two hands back over his head, and then swung, bringing the blade crashing down straight into the pig's skull. Specks of red gushed out, leaving Levi even more bloodied than he already was. He didn't care. He brought a foot up to the man's back, pushing on him and simultaneously pulling on the knife to yank it out. The body slumped forward, the man's head resting on his knees.

With the man for sure dead, there was no one controlling the horses. Should he take the reins? But then people would see the dead body. And the other members of the man's gang were probably trailing behind somewhere. The wagon was about to collide with a carriage. Maybe that was a good thing. It could provide a distraction.

Levi retreated back further into the wagon again, shoving crates out of his way to get to the back opening of it. Knife still clutched in one hand, he summoned up all the strength he could to get past the last of the boxes and leapt from the wagon just as it crashed into the carriage. Shrieks and dust filled the air, creating a dirt fog that panicked the people nearby. Levi tumbled onto the ground behind the destruction, grunting as he hit it. If he wasn't injured before, he definitely was now. And he could feel it.

Levi didn't think to look back at the crash that had occurred, he just needed to get out of there. Or something along the lines of that. He realized he hadn't exactly planned for what he would do next after his daring escape from the sketchy merchants.

Should he go back to the underground? Find Kenny, get the old man to beat the shit out of the rest of those pigs involved in the whole merchandise scheme, and then continue on with life wherever it took him. He supposed it was a solid ploy. He just needed to find out how to get back to the underground. He looked up and…

Eyes. Hundreds of pairs of eyes were staring at him.

Back in the underground, Levi didn't care when people eyeballed him. For one, those bums rarely ever did, just minding their own business per usual, but on the rare occasion someone did, he just didn't care. Perhaps it was because he knew those low lifes were no better than him. Their judgment was hypocritical.

The people above ground were a different story. They held themselves high. They dressed nicely: the men in pristine blazers and hats. The women were beautiful, with their flowing dresses, snow-white gloves, and parasols with intricate designs perched on their shoulders. And all these people were gawking at him. Levi felt the sudden need to fix his tousled hair or smooth out his clothes. He wished he didn't look so dirty and bloodied at the moment.

Why was he so focused on people's opinions all of a sudden? No, he had to lock in. Get the hell out of there. Levi forced his injured limbs to pick himself up, dusting off his clothes, and then making a run for it to an alleyway. He pushed past a random lady on the sidewalk, the woman yelping as she was shoved.

And so, Levi ran. Navigating his way through the alleys and backroads of the land above ground, not knowing where he was going next. All he knew was just that he didn't want to go back.

The whiskey that seeped into his throat had a slight burn to it as he swallowed it down, sighing briefly afterwards and putting the glass back down onto the table. There were two seats on either side of the man that were unoccupied. People always seemed to distance themselves from the terror that roamed their streets.

Kenny didn't mind. He didn't want to be bothered by the ruffians that lived in these parts. He liked to think of himself as a bit higher than them in status, intelligence, skill, you name it. And that was mostly true; compared to him, they were incompetent. At least they could still get their hands on some good alcohol down here. Otherwise Kenny probably wouldn't have stayed as long as he had.

But he was still waiting. Waiting at the same bar each evening for the kid. He said to himself to give it a fortnight. If the runt didn't show up, then fine, whatever. He wanted to be independent now? Go ahead. He wasn't responsible for the boy.

Oh, but what would Kuchel think if he ever saw her again?

Somewhere in heaven. Or, maybe not, since Kenny knew he was going straight to hell.

But again, his sister would definitely tell him off. Interrogate him, "Why didn't you take care of my baby?" He never understood her immense love for children. Even when she was younger, she happily played with the younger kids on their street. He was honestly surprised that after getting impregnated from some stranger because of her whorish job, she didn't resent the child. No, she loved him so dearly. It was honestly admirable.

And Kenny supposed he could slightly see her appeal. Perhaps it was just the little humanity he had left in him. The poor runt had been starving to death when he found him. And there was no way he would've been able to survive amongst thugs and criminals if he didn't have basic knowledge of survival. So Kenny kept him around and taught him a few things. So what?

And now he still sat at that bar, waiting for the boy to make his choice. Did he personally think the kid was ready for the world? Not necessarily. But that runt sure did catch on fast, so maybe he would pick up a few things along the way without him. Though if Levi did eventually show up, he would teach those things to him.

"You waitin' for someone, sir?" a voice sounded from the other side of the bar. Kenny looked up to see the bartender leaning against the counter.

"What's it to ya?" came his gruff reply.

"With the space you're hoggin' up, yer scaring away my customers," the bartender gestured to the still empty seats beside the man. "You do this every damn day you're in here."

Kenny just scoffed and rolled his eyes, grinning to himself. "You know who I am, tough stuff?"

"Don't know, don't wanna know. I want customers."

"With your shitty drinks? Yeah, keep on dreamin' fella."

The bartender glared at him and slammed the towel that had previously been resting on his shoulder down onto the counter between them. "You got a problem old man?"

Kenny let out a huff and shook his head. He didn't feel like beating someone to a pulp today. "Nah… Not worth my time. Been to this place too many times anyway. Pass me a cig, will ya?"

The man in front of him scowled yet still dug out a pack of cigarettes from behind the counter and tossed it at him. "And don't come back, y'hear?"

Kenny let out a huff, pinching the cigar between his index and middle finger as he got up from the barstool. "Trust me, I won't be back to your rusty ass excuse for a pub." He didn't bother reacting to the bartender extending his two middle fingers, or the whispers of other customers trying to tell the man that he was the feared Kenny the Ripper. Kenny just walked outside, leaning against the outer wall beside the door.

Once lit, he brought the cigarette to his lips, inhaling before exhaling out the smoke a moment later. He stared off into the distance, contemplating.

So Levi was really gone, huh? He thought he could take care of himself, so he upped and left. But Kenny knew that boy wouldn't survive a day in the real world. Well, maybe he could, for a few days or weeks. But everything eventually comes back to bite you in the ass again, no matter how far you try to run from him.

Kenny sighed and took another puff of his cigar.