Your quarters in Mitras was pretty roomy for one sleeper.
The walls, decorated with embossed flowers wrapped in explosion of colors. Corners were carved like one of those Renaissance architecture. White borders. Solid pillars. Grand but cozy. It was difficult to believe that hints of your shabby presence was everywhere on these corners.
You gently skimmed the pages of the Encyclopedia you brought with you. Heavy, you knew, an inconvenience, but you thought it might be useful for Paradis' flora and fauna once you arrived here... and it did. You followed its random soap and ointment recipes and made a living out of it.
You smiled at the memory. Jean and Connie. The series of bullying. Your month-plotted revenge...
"Armin will like this." You muttered to yourself. That boy always loved to read.
A knock on the door. Marlowe peeked from the wide doorway.
"Come in," You replied, wrapping the heavy book with some of your tattered, useless clothes.
"Ah, this is new," Marlowe noticed scanning the room, "I haven't seen you tidy up your room. I almost thought you're leaving."
"What's that suppose to mean?" You smirked.
"Nothing offensive." He grinned. "But are you sure you're the Phoebe I know?" Marlowe crossed his arms, leaning his entire weight on the wall.
You chortled. "Don't worry, she'll be gone one of these days."
"Not a good joke, Febe."
You giggled at his sudden seriousness.
"Well," Your hands didn't pause working whatever, but nevertheless carried on the conversation with the boy who had been working with you for weeks.
"No just..." He visibly holding his breath, maybe even contemplating if what he was going to say was too soft for a soldier. "I didn't see you walking around town or anywhere so..."
"So?"
"It felt weird, not seeing you."
"Marlowe," you called, tossing him a box. He caught it so expertly, while anticipating the weight that didn't come. Regardless of the size, the box was actually light. You met Marlowe's family- quite often, actually, and you thought that dress would fit his sister just right.
"Her birthday's coming up right? Your sister?"
"Ye— how d'you know?" He was stunned; slowly inspecting the gift, his wide eyes stared into yours until they softened to what you could see was gratitude.
"Your mom." You walked across to reach him, patting his head with another box, one smaller but a bit heavier than the first. "And this one's for Hitch."
"Why?" His face twitched with disgust. "And you could've just walked here. Look, the box is all deformed." He pouted.
"Don't be picky and don't ask why, just take it." You replied, having an inkling Hitch would love a corset. She had always been a corset wearer during day-offs.
Marlowe shot you a suspicious look, reading your actions, putting meaning behind them.
"What?" You gave the young man a bewildered look.
"Nothing," He hesitated. You paused to wait. "Just—"
"Well, whatever it is," You said, grunting at the weight of your knapsack containing a bunch of rolled paper. "I'm sure it can wait."
"Wai—" He walked briskly to catch up to you who's already by the door. "Where're you goin'?"
"Out!" Your loud reply echoed within the granite hallways, "Look after the Queen!"
"But where exactly?" He matched your volume, his pitter-patters trying to catch you when you were already out the door.
"Everywhere!"
"Nanaba?" You knocked at her door. You could hear movements inside. Boiling liquid. Slow footsteps. Wooden ladles grinding against metal pots.
Her child would be comfortable lying on this soft blanket, you thought, hugging the thick, woolen comfort that made you better even in the worst.
"Nanaba? It's Phoebe. Are you in there?" You knocked again.
"Phoebe? Coming!"
The knob opened, revealing a homely Nanaba with the most casual clothes you ever saw her in.
"Did something happen?" Nanaba looked... not like Nanaba. Somehow, you imagined her to be happy to see you. Not this alarmed, ready to fight Nanaba anticipating the worst.
"No." You cracked a laugh.
"Oh."
"Well, I'm here for this." You did a little wiggle on her the rolled blanket to your bosom. "May I come in?"
And there came her confused, yet obviously interested expression as she made space to let you in.
And her house smelled like the Survey corps kitchen. The dried lemon grass, humidity that came from the boiling pot, the subtle scent of charcoal...
The chatter of the soldiers. That's all that's missing. So different from the hectic, complicated life in Mitras.
"It's almost ready." Nanaba proudly showed the playpen in the center of the house. "Miche ordered this from Reeves, but they gave this to us for quarter the price. They said it's the biggest they have. We're still planning to put more cushion to the floor..."
"And I think your baby can use something softer." You shrugged. She didn't say anything, so you continued to talk.
"I'm downsizing my stuff. I know it's not much and it's kinda worn down now, but you can put this under the baby's bed." You smiled awkwardly, tucking a loose tendril of hair behind your ear. The lack of response was starting to get to you. Is she not happy because it's... used?
"But it's fleece so it will keep her warm. It has extra cushion too, so yeah, think of it as a baby shower kinda thing."
Nanaba eyed the voluminous gift. "Phoebe..."
"It doesn't have major holes on it or anything and it's good to— oh."
She hugged you. Suddenly wrapping her arms around your neck, but slowly pulling you in. tighter embrace until you could feel her warmth and the gentle pitter-patters of her swollen belly.
"Thank you."
And your response was slow. Slower than Nanaba's. The soft thumps in her belly made you stay put at the moment. She feels so alive and something about the movement inside her belly made your chest clench and ache and you couldn't explain it.
Your eyes stung.
"Phoebe, really, thank you."
"No worries." You choked, sniffling the tears back inside before she let you go. She would get it, why you're downsizing. She would get considering she witnessed soldiers come and go in the barracks; their properties out as fast as they got in. "Seriously— no worries."
"Phoebe," She pulled back to look at you, an automatic smile graced your lips. "Why the sudden..?"
"I have to go now." You chuckled, hoping a light parting would threw her off and not worry anymore. So you smiled your best, making sure nothing slipped by her keen eyes. "Survey's waiting for me."
And it was pretty empty, the Survey Corps barracks. The soldiers must be spending their two days off with their families, before the anticipated Retrieval Operations.
Your hands began to grow cold. Damp. Echoes of your heels, rhythmically beating the wooden floor. The knot in your stomach back once more. Short bouts of air to calm your nerves worked for a while, but as the showdown got nearer, the stronger the dread had gotten.
Would it hurt, getting hit by boulders? Would you feel it when it already crushed your head?
When you die, would it be like in the movies where you appear somewhere nice?
How about your family, are they looking for you? Would they stop?
Would someone miss you?
Would your death make a difference?
"Would you miss me?"You murmured, now noticing you just voiced out your thoughts. You stopped walking now; gone were the thuds of your heels, your thoughts led you to the kitchen where Armin was the cook.
You were never that close with the three, you admit. You never really tried to associate yourself with them— survival was your priority. And now that you were thinking about it, you wished you actually took some time to get to know them more. Not as the main characters of this story you're in, but because you wanted to.
Armin clumsily put the boiled tomatoes on the counter and began to peel them one by one. You snorted when he burned his thumb, instinctively sucking it, before going back to peeling.
If Levi saw him touch the potatoes after he sucked his thumb...
The picture in your head made you smile.
"Armin!" And now that it's back, you skipped to approach the young man. Startled, he gawked at you as you found your way seated in front of him.
"Yes?" He uncertainly answered.
"Just wanna drop by and offer you something," You fished out the heavy Encyclopedia on your bag, watching his expression turn from curiosity to sheer delight.
"Do you... want it?" You nudged the book closer, inviting him to inspect.
"You can check it, Armin."
"But," He looked up, predicting what he was suppose to say. "But why?"
"I knew you're gonna ask that." You smiled, flipping some pages for him. "Because you can't go out freely yet."
"Yet?"
"Yeah, yet." You nodded. "Someday, when titans are gone and defeated."
He chuckled darkly, "I don't think I'll live that long to see that day."
"Maybe, so look here for now."
"Where did you get this?" He suddenly said, alarmed. "You're not suppose to have a copy— the language, it's different... " He scanned the space for possible passerby or eavesdropper, "Phoebe hide this before the government found out!"
"So you don't want it?" You were so ready to chuck it on the fire.
"No!" He may be hissing, but he grabbed the book faster than you could drop it on the flame. "I..."
"You...? Say it." You teased. The boy turned red.
"... want it."
"Hm?" You pretended like you couldn't hear him. "What was that?"
"The book," He murmured, fidgeting the corner of hard cover. You waited for like... 30 seconds before he finally had the guts to tell you what his heart trully desired. "I want the book."
You grinned, satisfied with his answer and rewarding him of the linen you used to cover it with.
"Good boy Armin."
He scratched the back of his neck, heat emitting from his now pinkish cheeks.
Your tote was lighter now that the encyclopedia was gone, it left you with one more thing to do:
"Please, register this under the proposer's name of captain Levi, captain Levi Ackerman." You surrendered thick rolls of blue prints to the city registrar. Sliding the rolls of paper on the slab of cold granite. The middle aged lady— probably not older than you for another 5 years, received them, and gave it a quick glance.
"Does this have an appointment?" A middle-aged woman asked while her hands were busy looking for a pen.
"No, but the Majesty Queen wants this top priority." You replied, making sure your metal badges gleamed to exert some power on your end.
"Alright." She chirped, taking the blueprints back, and binding them with violet and red tie. A symbol of urgency and order from the Queen.
"What is this for?" The attendant asked.
"Renovation for the Underground City."
"But it says here..." The middle aged woman scanned the right top corner of the blueprint before getting back to you. "... that one named Phoebe Johnson is the proposer."
"It's being endorsed." You informed her right back.
"Do you have a certificate of death for miss..." She read your name on the blueprints once again, before adjusting her glasses. Her fingers spread wide to receive the document she asked for.
"... for Miss Phoebe Johnson?"