Chapter 25: First Day

"Captain." Edie held her hands behind her back, concealing the nervous scrunch of fabric between her fingers. "You look…different."

So this was a Scout without his armor. The captain left his swooping cape and regal markings at home. Edie didn't know what she expected. Of course, military men wouldn't wear uniform on the off hours, but what was a man without his title? Apparently, Captain Levi was simplistic yet stylish, with all the benefits of his size and demeanor. He wore a black suit, with no special stitching or adornment. His boots, shiny as a widow's silver, added an inch with the heel. All cuffs, above the feet and wrists, stood just a tad higher than the usual style. His tailor knew their client. The only addition was a pleated collar, which puffed over the jacket's folds, but subtly. It was an outfit meant for good impressions, business meetings, and lounging wisely in the corner with Earl Gray. The look exclaimed professionalism, class, and a hint of superior sarcasm. It was the memory after an unsuccessful lineup, when the investigator sighs and says, "It's a shame we can't catch the killer, but at least we got a fashion lesson out of this one."

Such was the impression on the parents, and it reinforced their opinion: unapproachable, successful, but beyond handsome. Edie, who knew better than to be deceived by well-dressed men with empty heads, smiled sweetly and picked up her shawl.

"Thank you." His eyes surveyed her, too. "You're…beautiful.'

"Thank you."

The captain blinked and looked to Larmie and Hajule. He shook the former's hand and nodded at the latter. "How have you been?"

"Well, Jamie began training nearly a week ago, so…strained." Hajule carefully chose her words. She moved to her husband and gently took his hand. "Even though he won't join your regiment for another three years, the training is so dangerous, we've heard."

"Yes, and we're supporting Jamie all the way." Larmie gave a bright smile. "But that's not why you're here! You kids have fun." He pulled his wife into the kitchen and began preparing dinner, distracting her with empty cooking questions that he knew the answers to.

The captain moved to the door and opened it for her. "Are you comfortable riding double?"

"So long as there's no titans."

"That's easily done." He untied his horse, helped her up (her extended skirts allowed her to ride regularly), and boarded easily. "We're staying well within the walls."

At the road, he heeded right, then left again, heading toward Sina's gate. He'd have her see the city after all, despite the rather uncivilized men she'd heard on the last trip, and terrible traffic. But she'd heard often that military men lived in the city, especially high ranking ones. Surely the captain knew his way around, and perhaps even had reservations. A few scenarios flew through her head, mostly based on how sophisticatedly he was dressed. Maybe they would intentionally eat on the outskirts of the city so no one would recognize him and wonder what the captain was doing with a country bumpkin. Maybe he was rushing to the fanciest restaurant in town, and there, trapped by social convention, she wouldn't make a scene when he broke it off. He'd gently yet simply explain how he didn't know what he was thinking, that he'd gotten swept up with the wedding and sunset, that there wasn't much in common after all, and they should part ways as acquaintances. She could've told him to slow the galloping horse, forget the reservation, and get it over with outside the Wall. He didn't need to be honorable and uphold his word about a first date, no matter how disappointed Jamie would be. A million thoughts sped through her mind as the trees turned to streaks, the road bled into oblivion, and the sky bade farewell to the Sun. The horse was intent, and a Scout itself, so it thought not of its second passenger when it leapt over a rut in the road. Edie lurched backward and grabbed on tightly as the steed continued maneuvering. Soon, the road smoothed, the Wall closer than ever. She gazed up at its glory, taller than any pure titan. They really were protectors, and she imagined no cannon fire could break them. While she noticed nothing mystical about them, there was that vibrating feeling in her palms.

But it was dampened: Edie realized she was clutching the captain's waist.

Oh, she'd made a promise to keep her hands to herself. No contact whatsoever: disappoint him enough to break it off while still keeping her promise to Jamie. But the jacket and dress shirt barely masked his muscles straining with each stride. Other soldiers might be bigger, but she could feel exponential power hidden under the surface, ready to be harnessed with a moment's notice. His sights stayed focused; he probably had a hundred girls put their hands on him. Lovely looking city girls, or brazen Scouts who could relate to his horrifying experiences on the front line, far more than someone with a largely normal life. The Commander didn't know what he was talking about. Dates or no dates, no one stayed that cool under pressure without practice.

"Are you alright?"

Edie sat straight up and drew back her hands. Her palms glowed pink. "Just surprised." She coughed to get rid of a lump in her throat. The feeling that settled in her stomach. "Your horse is intent."

"Hm? Oh, sorry." He pulled on the reins, and it slowed to a canter. "I didn't notice."

"It's alright." She swallowed. "So, what's the evening hold?"

"You said you hadn't seen the city, so…" They were nearing the gate. "There's this one café with an incredible jasmine tea. I always bring some on missions, to keep calm. Besides that, they have a menagerie of nearly forty blend, with soup and breads. Then, there's always some new art display or garden show in the center square, but if you get tired, let me know."

"It was an early morning," she admitted. "Do you live in Sina?"

With the slower page, she could hear him clearly. "I move with the work. We have missions on all sides of the walls, especially where titans are scarcer, for study."

"No home base?"

"The Scouts haven't required one for decades."

"All those soldiers, stuck in limbo," she mused, "until the next escapade."

"Well—others go home between missions, mostly. We venture beyond the walls every two or three months, and pause to train and plan. That's just my and Erwin's style, to stay put. Both us don't have people to go home to."

"You seem close."

"Very."

Edie wiped her hands on her skirt. There were different kinds of friends, she knew, and many things she would never tell Jamie. So, how close? But she squeezed her eyes shut for a moment and reset her mind. There was nothing to learn about tonight, and no boxes to check off. He'd get bored, get it out of his system, and let her be. Jamie would be satisfied, the Commander would be pleased, and no one would get hurt. And, in future, she'd be more careful.

They reached the gate and dismounted. Levi tied his horse within the wall, checking with a few Garrison members to make sure it'd still be there when he returned. They recognized him and agreed, but as he took care of a bit of paperwork, she heard a few snide remarks about the little captain and his free pass. Maybe Jamie was onto something about the other branches.

Ehrmich was a brighter place at night. All the produce vendors had gone home and were replaced with scented candle stands, luxuriously painted pottery, and lush plants with flowers. All the housewives had gone back to their rural homes, and all the noblewomen perused the town, ears cocked for someone whispering, "one of a kind." She and the captain seemed unmatched for this street's crowd, filled with elegant gentlemen (some even wore capes) and lovely ladies, who wore satin as if it were nothing special. Candles flickered on pedestals, and combined with a clear night, no glorious detail went unseen. These were the women at the church's and military's parties—perfection itself. Edie swung her hem so the stitching showed and thought about throwing her hair's flowers in the ditch. Hajule and Larmie wouldn't think to ask where they went, and the Captain might assume they fell out in the tumultuous ride. She tugged on her sleeves. All the girls around had jewels or elaborate braids. Not that it mattered—another set of hands deserved the credit, so why did all that beauty suddenly seem brighter than the moon herself?

Thankfully, the captain turned on a side street, and they climbed down some steps to a calm area. Some restaurant patrons sat outside, but at least they were quieter, and still. The pair finally walked side by side, and she kept both hands clasped at her waist. The captain kept his behind his back.

"Do you enjoy living in the country?"

She nodded. "Maybe it's just Ehrmich, but city life feels so…artificial."

"The people look painted."

"Exactly! Like they're all on display in a clothing store." She felt her stomach sense start to quell. "But what's your opinion?"

"I enjoy the open air, and space. You have a fantastic area, with the forest so close to farmable land."

"There's a hidden lake there, too. It's small, but Jamie and I spent a lot of hours in that clearing."

"Mm." He stepped aside to avoid a puddle. "Have you received any word?"

"Just that he arrived. But he won't visit home until the end of cadet training, even for birthdays. The only exceptions are funerals and weddings, and even then, only for immediate family." She cocked her head. "It couldn't have been that long ago that you were in the Cadet Corps."

"It took an alternate route to join the Scouts. Erwin and I sort of…struck a bargain."

"So, you skipped it."

"Essentially."

Edie meant it as a joke, but the captain's demeanor hadn't budged. She cleared her throat. "Do you have any hobbies?"

He thought for a moment. "Occasional reading."

"I guess you don't have much time off."

"It's moderate." He was quiet for a moment more. "A lot of cleaning."

"…of?"

"Living quarters, clothes, tools, anything. Poor living conditions are responsible for more disease than genetics."

"Is that so?"

"Combined with lazy architecture and low exercise, which most communities can't help, poor health is inevitable."

"Like a cramped city." She surveyed the three-story buildings.

"Exactly."

"So, why are you a soldier instead of an architect? Or a teacher, for that matter."

"Less government interference, believe it or not."

"Really? Than the army?"

"In the military, you follow the higher-ups, that's it. For any other job, you've got supply, demand, laws and regulations by the dozen, and partners that stab you in the back."

"Sounds brutal."

"And often fruitless. After all these years, we still have…" The captain linked and raised his head. "But enough about me. Do you…" He stopped and looked up, a quick sigh escaping. "We're here."

The swinging sign above read, 'The Dragon's Jasmine' with a copper engraving of the mystical beast. The shop sat on a corner, with windows on two sides. The café was moderately busy. The captain chose two menus and a table at a window. They sat across one another, with her back to the door. One look at the menu, and she had her order: broccoli cheese soup with salted potatoes on the side, and one of those jasmine teas due to the good review.

Before the captain generated another question, a bumbling old man came over, with a pristine pointed bears, an apron over his cheery belly, and a sincere smile spread on his face. "Welcome to The Dragon's Jasmine! Captain Levi, good to see you tonight." He set down two forest green mugs with engravings around the rim, and a teapot stand in the middle. His attention turned to the lady. "It's a pleasure to meet you. My name is Hori, and I am the owner of this establishment."

"It's wonderful."

The captain gestured to his date. "Hori, this is Edie Cartwell."

"Oh, I remember that name. Captain Hange comes in from time to time." He joined her side of the table and pointed to the menu. "I'm sure Captain Levi has already tried to convince you of the jasmine tea, but several others are well worth your while. Each tea is perfectly suited to a different demeanor, and I can see that you are an interdependent young woman who seeks to…protect those around her, both internally and externally. The Camellia Black would agree with you. But, if the two lovebirds look to share a pot of tea," Hori clasped his hands together, "than the Honey Rose Tea would split excellently."

The captain hesitated, looking back at the menu briefly, so Edie handed hers to Hori with a serene smile. "I think I'll stick with the jasmine tea, but I will be back. They sound excellent. And I'll have the broccoli cheese soup, please."

"An excellent selection." He shook his head with mock sadness. "That's what I get for having one famous tea. We need to have more!"

A crashing sound came from the kitchen, followed by angsty shouting. Hori laughed, but he sounded worried. "If you'll excuse me, my nephew sounds in need of assistance. Your usual, Captain Levi?"

"Thank you, Hori."

"Of course." With a final wink at the couple, he went to investigate the sounds.

Without a menu in his hand, the captain set his hands on the table. "It's nothing fancy."

"It's lovely. Much better than any dining room with a chandelier."

"Good." They both took a glance to the kitchen as the clearly teenaged nephew began discussing his life philosophy. Distance scarcely muted the tones. "Hori seems friendly."

"He's got quite the intuition."

"So, what's your demeanor tea?"

"Phoenix Oolong. His blend has hints of honeycomb along with plum and lychee leaves."

"Let me guess." Edie leaned forward. "It's…calming, but alert, because that's a black tea, if I'm not mistaken. You…help people around you to not be so anxious."

He leaned back, nodding. "You know your tea."

"Did I miss anything?"

"Mm…if I remember correctly, Hori also said Phoenix Oolongs tend to be loyal. The taste lingers for a few hours, which led to the symbolism."

"Does it match?"

He shrugged. "I never liked the flavor."

"The popular ones are popular for a reason."

Another server approached their table, cradling a pot of tea with a towel. He set it on the holder, lit the candle with a match, and adjusted the lid. "Here's your Jasmine tea," he mumbled and sighed, with standoffishness that Edie equally amused and concerned. He didn't seem to want to be noticed, so she kept her eyes on the tea and thanked him. The walking angst gave a smothered goodbye and slunk away.

The captain poured them both and drank his immediately; Edie added a swirl of honey before sipping. "Yeah, that hits the spot." She smelled the mist for a moment, then sipped again. "I do not envy being a teenager."

"No kidding." The captain drank as if all his tastebuds were already burned off. "Lee has a very unique temperament, though."

"I can see that."

Both went through two cups of jasmine, enjoying the murmur of conversation all around and still-dimming sky. Mostly enjoying. Edie could see the captain wringing his hands every now and again, eyes sitting on his teacup or the tablecloth, tapping impatiently as the food took quite a while. Another couple provided a bit of drama as they debated whether the man had looked at one of her friends wrong, but they simmered down and left the restaurant to their devices. Edie found herself content in all circumstances, but she regretted their location. Perhaps the captain would be less likely to share his hesitation where he was a regular. People would see. All she could do was rack her brain for something, anything, to talk about, while avoiding a million other topics. He did pour her tea when it ran dry, sharing little more than a polite, "you're welcome." Oh, god. Just say this isn't working, she tried to share. I swear, I'm not going to make any scene. I'll even walk home, if you've got places to be. But he was a captain, an honorable soldier, and would at least give the whole night. She fidgeted with her skirts. Thanks, Jamie, this is going great, she transmitted to that little interferer, hundreds of kilometers away. She waited for the captain to speak, to give that indication that he was reconsidering.

"I'm sorry," he eventually said. "Small talk has never been a strong suit."

Edie blinked. Perhaps they were both…no, she was the out-of-practice one. He was just being polite. "That's alright. Mine neither." She drank again. "I did like hearing your opinions about the government and military, though. You speak so eloquently about all of it."

"Thanks." He poured a third cup. "Most people don't generally welcome it as table conversation."

"Well, most people prefer to live in ignorance." She jerked up. "Not to say that people you know are—I mean—they're not—"

He laughed—actually laughed, not some faux polite laugh or way to end her jabbering. He seemed to actually be enjoying himself. The captain brushed back his hair, assured her that, "I know what you meant," and went on to share more of his opinions.