The mess hall buzzed with low chatter, the warm clatter of spoons and laughter weaving through the flicker of hanging lanterns. The long table at the far end—their table—was already filling with steam from fresh stew and the fading heat of the day. Beatrice sat near the middle, her goggles tucked in a cloth pouch at her side. She was relaxed. Quiet. The afterglow of a well-fought day still warmed her limbs.

Levi sat to her right, eating silently, as usual. He barely touched the bread. But his ears were tuned in.

Isabel plopped into the seat across from Beatrice and immediately slapped a hand on the table. "Put. Them. On."

Beatrice blinked. "...Put what on?"

"The goggles!" Isabel said, pulling them out of the pouch like she was revealing a legendary artefact. "C'mon. Just for a minute. You look like a tactical soldier with those on."

Beatrice gave her a long, patient look. "They're for missions."

"Yeah, but like—imagine the intimidation value if you walked into the next officer review with those on."

"She doesn't need goggles to look intimidating," Farlan chimed in from Beatrice's other side, plopping down with a full plate. "Have you seen her when she's disarming titans midair? It's a graceful murder."

Levi sipped his tea and muttered, "Her goggles make her less likely to miss. That's what matters."

Beatrice glanced at him. "You think I miss a lot?"

"You're better with them," he replied simply. "That's all."

Isabel leaned forward dramatically. "So you admit she looks cool."

"I said nothing about 'cool.'"

"She's got moon-assassin energy with them on, Levi, don't lie."

"She's not here to play dress-up."

"But the intimidation value!"

Farlan laughed. "You just want her to look like a Final Boss."

Levi looked up at Beatrice, calm and unshaken. "Put them on or don't. Doesn't change the fact that you were the best flier out there today."

That made her pause. The air shifted just slightly around the table.

Beatrice reached for the goggles quietly. But before she could put them on—

"I read something," Isabel said, in that way that usually meant chaos. "About albinism."

Levi's eyes flicked toward her.

"I looked it up in one of Hange's books," she went on. "It's not just a look thing, y'know? It's sensitivity. Like, to light. Movement. Focus. All that. Beatrice—your eyes aren't just pretty—they've been hurting you this whole time, haven't they?"

Beatrice lowered the goggles slowly, her expression softer now. "Sometimes."

Farlan looked over, clearly affected. "You never said anything."

"There was never a point. I didn't want it to be… a thing."

Levi's voice cut through like a quiet blade. "It's a thing if it puts strain on you. It's a thing if it hurts. You don't hide that."

Beatrice looked at him, stunned by the weight in his voice.

He didn't back down.

"You adapt," he added. "But you don't suffer for the sake of comfort."

Isabel gave her a playful shove on the arm. "Exactly! We're supposed to have your back, right? So let us."

Beatrice looked around the table—Isabel's bright eyes, Farlan's quiet concern, and Levi's calm, steady presence beside her. And then, without a word, she slipped on the goggles. The lenses caught the golden lantern glow. The tint softened her expression but sharpened her silhouette.

"Whoa," Isabel whispered, stunned for real this time. "That's it. That's the final evolution."

"She's gonna start floating next," Farlan murmured with mock reverence.

Levi didn't speak. But he watched.

Watched how her face relaxed. How her shoulders shifted ever so slightly. How her smile came more easily this time—not small or polite, but real.

Visible.

She looked like someone who didn't feel like a burden anymore.

Levi stood slowly and set a small folded pouch beside her bowl.

"Lens cloth," he said. "For the goggles. Silk."

Beatrice looked up at him, wide-eyed. "You… got me one?"

"You think I'd let you use your sleeve?"

Her cheeks turned pink behind the lenses.

"Thanks," she said softly, touching the pouch with both hands. "Really."

Levi sat back down, tea in hand. Didn't speak again.

But the silence between them felt warm. Full. Like a conversation still happening without words.