Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Petra stood soaked beneath the relentless rain, the storm raging inside her. The wind howled through the empty streets, and darkness took over the night in a heavy, oppressive silence. It was a night unlike any other—one she had decided would be her last. Consumed by despair, she had made up her mind. Tonight, Petra was going to end it all.

She stood by the roadside, watching the blur of headlights streak past like ghosts in the rain. The world felt distant, almost dreamlike, as cars rushed by unaware of her presence. Then, without hesitation, she stepped forward into the chaos, into the path of fate. A sharp screech, a flash of impact—then silence. Pain erupted through her body like fire, and then… nothing. Darkness took over. She remembered no more.

Rain poured mercilessly onto the streets as Levi and the officers made their way toward a special mission. The storm blurred the world around them, visibility reduced to shadows and streaks of light. Levi, steady behind the wheel, navigated through the downpour with sharp focus—until something sudden and unexpected broke through the veil of rain.

A figure appeared into the road.

Before he could react, the car jolted to a stop. The sickening thud said it all.

"Levi, someone’s there!" Hange shouted from the backseat.

Erwin was already out of the vehicle, his boots splashing in puddles as he rushed forward. He stopped abruptly, eyes fixed on the motionless form lying in the street.

“It’s a girl. She’s hurt—badly,” he said, urgency tightening his voice. “We need to get her to a hospital. Now.”

Levi clicked his tongue in frustration. "Tch… of all times. This is insane."

“She’s in pajamas,” Hange noted grimly, kneeling beside the girl. “This wasn’t an accident. She must have jumped—looks like a suicide attempt.”

Erwin gently lifted the girl into his arms. Her small frame was soaked and limp, blood mingling with rainwater as it ran down her skin.

Levi stepped closer, eyes narrowing as he studied her face. Despite the injuries, there was something hauntingly delicate about her. Her short ginger hair clung to her cheeks, and through the blood and rain, her amber eyes—barely open—caught the light for just a moment. They struck him, sharp and sorrowful, and for reasons he couldn’t explain, they stayed with him.

They loaded the injured girl carefully into the backseat, but as soon as the door shut, crimson streaks stained the upholstery. Levi’s jaw tightened at the sight.

“Tch,” he muttered, clearly irritated. The blood—thick, wet, and out of place—was already seeping into the fabric. For a clean freak like him, it was almost unbearable.

Still, there was no time to dwell. He slammed the car into gear, tires screeching against the rain-slicked pavement as they sped toward the hospital. The engine roared, and the city blurred past—every second counted now.

They arrived at the hospital in a rush, the storm still raging outside. Rain pelted the roof, thunder rolled in the distance, and lightning lit up the waiting room in sudden, ghostly flashes. The girl was immediately taken into the ICU, her condition too severe for hesitation.

Levi stood apart, phone pressed to his ear, already coordinating with command regarding the mission they had been forced to delay. Across the room, Erwin and Hange sat in silence, both watching the swinging doors of the ICU with grim expressions.

After what felt like hours, a doctor finally emerged, removing his gloves with a heavy sigh.

“She’s stable for now,” he informed them. “But she lost a lot of blood, and the signs of long-term physical abuse are... alarming. We’ll continue to monitor her, but she’s going to need more than just medical care.”

The words hit harder than expected.

Erwin was already dialing the local authorities, trying to report the incident and get help identifying her. But no one seemed to have answers—no name, no ID, and no guardian who could be reached.

The thought that she had been suffering alone unsettled them more than they were willing to admit.

“She’s just a kid,” Hange murmured, voice unusually quiet.

Levi broke the silence, glancing at the clock. “It’s already late, Erwin. We’ve got a critical mission. We don’t have time to sit here any longer.”

Erwin met his eyes. “We can’t just walk away, Levi. Not after what we saw. Not after what she’s been through.”

“Tch.” Levi sighed, clearly frustrated. But beneath his usual sharpness, there was hesitation. A flicker of something else.

His thoughts drifted back to the girl—small, fragile, drenched in blood and rain. And those eyes. Amber, hollow, yet strangely captivating. Even in that broken state, there was something about her that clung to his thoughts. Something that refused to let go.

He didn’t understand it. He didn’t like it.
But he couldn’t ignore it either.

Outside, the rain hadn’t stopped—it fell in a gentle, steady drizzle, as if the sky itself had grown weary. Hange stood by the hospital corridor window, speaking softly to her husband, Moblit, on the phone, updating him on the incident. Erwin had already gathered most of the information by then.

Levi sat in the corner of the room, silent and still, his expression unreadable.

“Her name is Petra Ral,” Erwin reported. “She’s twenty-one.Lost both her parents. She’s been living with a stepfather—an alcoholic, according to the preliminary file. No emergency contact available. She’s studying art.”

Before any of them could respond, a doctor approached. “She’s been moved to the observation room,” he informed them.

“Okay, thank you,” Erwin replied, then turned to the others. “Let’s go check on her.”

Without a word, Levi followed them, his usual cold glare present as always.

As they reached the room, Erwin paused. “One of us should stay with her until someone from her family shows up.”

“I’ll go check in at the Scout Headquarters,” he added.

“Tch. I’ll go,” Levi muttered.

“No. I’ll handle it,” Erwin said firmly, then turned and left.

Inside the observation room, Hange and Levi sat quietly beside Petra. The young woman lay unconscious on the bed, her face pale and body unnaturally still. Bruises covered her arms and legs, some fresh, others older. Worse were the cigarette burns—small, circular scars on her skin that spoke of deliberate cruelty.

“What could’ve happened to her?” Hange whispered, eyes scanning Petra’s injuries.

Levi leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. “Who knows… maybe bullying, maybe worse. Don’t dwell on it, Hange.”

“What?! Levi, just look at her.” Hange’s voice trembled slightly, caught between anger and disbelief.

Levi clicked his tongue. “Tch. Okay.”

But his eyes never left the girl. Petra looked fragile—her features soft, but drained of any light. There was something about her, something quiet and broken.

“She’s cute,” he thought absently. “But it’s like all the energy’s been sucked out of her… What the hell happened to this girl?”

By afternoon, Levi had already left the hospital. Hange remained behind, quietly keeping watch. Her husband, Moblit, soon arrived and joined her. It had been more than fourteen hours, and still, no one from Petra’s family had shown up.

Meanwhile, Levi was navigating the slick, rain-soaked roads, his hands steady on the wheel as the city blurred past. The tires occasionally hissed against the wet asphalt. Just then, his phone rang.

“Hey, Levi,” came Hange’s voice through the speaker.

“What is it, four-eyes?” he replied, keeping his gaze forward.

“Someone finally showed up for Petra,” Hange said. “An older woman and her friend.”

“What’s their relation to her?” Levi asked.

“They’re her neighbors. Long-time friends of the family,” she replied. Then her tone dropped slightly. “And… I found out something serious about her.”

There was a brief pause before Levi responded. “Alright.”

“Oh—and Petra’s awake now. She regained consciousness.”

Levi’s grip on the steering wheel tightened slightly. “Good to know.”

“So… does that mean we’re done here?” he asked.

“No,” Hange answered firmly. “She’s still admitted and will be here for several more days. And don’t forget—we’re the ones who hit her. We need to keep checking in on her. It’s our responsibility, Levi.”

“Tch. Okay,” he muttered, not entirely pleased, but not arguing either.

“I’m heading to the regiment now,” Hange added before ending the call.

Levi tossed the phone onto the passenger seat and turned his attention back to the road. Petra was awake.

Her amber eyes surfaced in his mind—bright, haunting, unforgettable.

He wanted to see them again.

At the Scout Regiment headquarters, the mission briefing had already begun. The room was filled with a quiet intensity as the soldiers gathered around the central table. Erwin stood at the front, confidently outlining the objectives of their next operation. Levi stood off to the side with arms crossed, his expression unreadable. Hange, too, was present—though her attention drifted more than usual.

Everyone’s eyes were fixed on Erwin, but Hange’s thoughts were still in the hospital.

---

Back at the hospital…

Petra’s eyes fluttered open slowly, her vision blurred. Light stung her gaze as she blinked several times, trying to focus. Voices drifted into her awareness, soft but familiar.

She turned her head slightly—and saw her elderly neighbor standing at her bedside.

For a moment, Petra froze. She had truly believed she wasn’t going to survive. She thought the pain would be over, that she would finally escape. But now she was awake, alive… and still here. Still trapped.

Tears welled up in her amber eyes.

“Petra… are you okay?” her grandmotherly neighbor whispered, gripping her hand gently. “Why did you do this?”

Petra didn’t answer at first. She simply stared at the ceiling, her body trembling. Then, as her friend Sasha stepped forward and embraced her, the dam broke. Tears streamed down her cheeks.

“I just wanted it to end,” Petra choked out. “I didn’t want to live like this anymore. I just wanted to die.”

Sasha held her tighter, voice trembling. “Don’t say that, Pett. Please don’t. You’re not alone. We’re here for you. Everything’s going to be okay. Just rest now.”

Petra nodded weakly, her tears still falling as she leaned back into the pillows. She said nothing more, curling into herself as sleep slowly pulled her under again.

From the doorway, Hange watched in silence. She hadn’t meant to intrude, but she couldn’t look away. The raw emotion in the room gripped her, leaving a heaviness in her chest. Petra’s pain was deeper than any wound Hange had seen on the battlefield.

Later, after returning to the Scout Regiment headquarters, Hange still couldn’t shake the memory. She sat quietly during the mission discussion, staring at the floor, barely registering the voices around her.

Levi, standing nearby, glanced at her. His sharp eyes narrowed.

Something had happened—he could see it in her face.

And he knew she wasn’t ready to talk about it just yet.

After the decision was made, they all sat down to share a quiet dinner. But Hange remained withdrawn, her thoughts clearly elsewhere.

Noticing her silence, Erwin leaned forward slightly. “Hange, is everything alright?”

She hesitated before answering. “Yeah… I’m okay. It’s just… that girl.”

Levi looked up, his expression sharpening. “What about her?”

“Like I mentioned earlier, people from her side came. She… she really tried to take her own life,” Hange said softly.

“Tch,” Levi muttered, clearly agitated. “That brat... Life is important. Do you know how many soldiers are out there, dying—desperate for just one more chance to live? And yet there are people trying to throw theirs away.”

“I understand, Levi. But her situation is different,” Hange replied quietly. “She’s going through far more than we ever realized.”

Levi frowned but didn’t interrupt.

“She lost her father when she was just seven. Her mother remarried a man who had a son older than her. At first, they lived peacefully. They were a happy family… until her mother died.”

Hange’s voice began to tremble.

“After that, everything changed. They started abusing her—in every possible way. Her stepfather… he tried to rape her more than once. They stopped feeding her properly. Treated her like she was nothing.”

She paused, her eyes dark.

“That night, she tried to end her life because both her stepfather and stepbrother tried to rape her again. She managed to fight them off… but they beat her. Badly. Then they threw her out.”

Silence fell over the room. Hange sighed heavily and pushed her untouched food away.

“I can’t keep talking about it. That was only the beginning, and already it’s too much,” she said, standing up from the table. “I just… can’t.”

Without another word, she left the room.

Levi sat in stillness, staring out of the window, the weight of her words pressing down on him. He didn’t know the girl personally, but something about her story struck him deeply. A quiet ache settled in his chest.

Breaking the silence, Erwin asked, “Levi, do you have any work tomorrow?”

“No. I’m free,” he replied.

“Then go check on that girl.”

“Tch… okay,” Levi said, nodding faintly.

Even after dinner ended, and the conversation was over, his mind lingered on her—on the pain she carried and the life she almost lost.

It was late, and the Scout Regiment's headquarters was quiet, save for the soft sound of rain tapping against the windows. In the dimly lit dining hall, Hange sat alone, restless and unable to sleep. Mobility, her trusted companion, stayed close by, quietly trying to comfort her.

Levi entered the room without a word, his eyes drawn to the falling rain outside. He stood near the window, silent, his presence grounding. Hange glanced at him, then spoke again—her voice low, carrying the weight of sorrow.

“She was an art student, Levi. She didn’t have much money for college, so she started working when she was just sixteen. She’s been fending for herself ever since.”

Levi turned slightly, listening.

“Her brother…” Hange paused, anger flickering in her eyes. “He used to bring strange men home. He let them touch her. She was so scared, she would lock herself in her room every night.”

Levi’s expression darkened.

“Now, he lives away for college, but he comes back on weekends… and he still tries to assault her. I don’t know, Levi. It’s so painful to hear all this. She’s just a kid.”

Levi sighed, quietly, almost to himself. “Yeah…”

He looked down, searching for the right words, but none came. Instead, he stood in silence, the rain continuing to fall—soft, steady, and unrelenting, much like the grief that hung in the air between them.

Chapter Text

The next day, Levi and Hange made their way to the hospital under the steady patter of rain. The monsoon was fast approaching, and the city had begun to drown in its rhythms. Hange was on the phone with someone, her voice muffled by the sound of rain against the car windows. Levi remained silent, eyes fixed on the road ahead.

They arrived at the hospital to find that Petra had been moved to a new room. As they stepped inside, Levi saw her seated by the window, gazing out at the rain. Her expression was distant, as though lost in another world. Beside her, Sasha was casually eating, the only liveliness in the quiet room.

Hange knocked gently.

Petra turned slowly, her eyes beautiful but veiled in something unreadable.

"Hi, Petra. Do you remember me from yesterday? I'm Hange," she said with a warm smile. "And… I'm sorry for waiting to see you."

Petra shook her head. “No, it's okay. I should be the one apologizing—for dragging you all into this mess. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t blame yourself,” Hange replied kindly.

Levi said nothing, but he couldn’t stop staring at Petra. There was something different about the way she spoke now—something softer, more vulnerable. Petra met his gaze, and for a moment, time seemed to still. The silence between them wasn’t uncomfortable—it was something else entirely.

They sat there in quiet company until Hange received a phone call and excused herself from the room. Sasha had also stepped out to get coffee, leaving Levi and Petra alone.

Moments later, a doctor entered the room holding a syringe. “She needs to sit up for the injection,” he explained. “Can you help her, sir?”

Levi nodded. “Okay.”

He stepped toward Petra, placing a firm but gentle hand on her shoulder. She reached out instinctively, grasping his shirt as he helped her sit. For a heartbeat, she held onto him tightly, her eyes locked onto his. There was a quiet understanding between them, something unspoken but heavy in the air—until the doctor’s presence shattered the moment.

Levi slowly stepped back, watching as the doctor administered the injection. Petra didn’t flinch; she simply stared ahead, blankly, her expression unreadable. Afterward, she lay back down without a word.

“How are you feeling now?” Levi asked quietly.

“I’m… good, sir,” she answered softly.

“I’m sorry,” she added again. “For causing trouble.”

“Tch,” Levi muttered. “It’s okay. Just… don’t try to end your life again. Try to live. Try to survive.”

They fell into silence. Levi struggled to find the right words, the weight of the moment pressing on his chest. All he could do was stare into her amber eyes, where something lingered—something he couldn’t quite name.

And then, the rain continued to fall outside the window.

Hange returned shortly, stepping back into the room with her usual energy. She began asking Petra a few more questions, her voice calm but purposeful. Levi, still seated nearby, said nothing. He simply watched Petra, studying her silently as thunder rumbled in the distance.

The storm outside had intensified, making travel dangerous. Going back to their homes wasn't a viable option, so they decided to stay at the hospital for a while longer.

Not long after, Sasha returned with coffee for everyone. The warmth of the drink offered a small comfort amidst the tension in the room.

As they sipped, Hange asked a question that immediately caught Levi's attention. “So, Petra… what are you planning to do after you’re discharged?”

Petra hesitated. “I… I’m not sure yet.”

“You should file a case against your stepfather and brother,” Hange said firmly.

Petra looked down. “I can’t. I don’t want to. I’ve tried before… but nothing ever changed. They always came back.”

Hange let out a quiet sigh. “We’ll make sure that doesn’t happen again. This time, we’ll take real action.”

Levi finally spoke. “Where are you planning to stay?”

“I’m going to move into a hostel near my college,” Petra replied. “I was enrolled there, so… being close will help me get back on track.”

“Don’t ever go back to them,” Hange said, her voice stern.

“I won’t., ma’am,” Petra nodded.

“There’s no need for that. You don’t have to call me ‘ma’am.’ Just Hange is fine,” she said with a chuckle. “And this is Levi. You can call us whatever you’re comfortable with.”

“Okay… Hange-san,” Petra replied softly.

Her gaze shifted to Levi for a moment, then quickly darted away. There was a quiet tension in her glance—shy, uncertain, but not without meaning. Levi noticed it. And though he said nothing, a quiet resolve stirred within him.

He didn’t understand it completely, but something about Petra made him feel… protective.

---

Visiting hours had come to an end. Levi and Hange stood, gathering their things as a nurse gently reminded them it was time to leave. Hange offered Petra a warm smile and a few last words of encouragement before stepping out.

Levi lingered for a moment longer.

As he turned to go, Petra smiled at him—soft, hesitant, but genuine. It caught him off guard. He didn’t smile back, not outwardly, but he paused.

There was something about that smile.

Something gentle. Something quietly beautiful.

And it stayed with him long after he walked out the door.

She thought back to the moment just a few hours ago—when she had smiled at him as he was walking away.

He hadn’t looked back. Hadn’t acknowledged her at all. The memory still stung in a quiet, unexpected way.

He’s a cold person, she told herself again. I’m sure of it.
But something about him made her wonder—was there a softer side beneath that hardened shell?

Why am I even thinking about him? she sighed inwardly. I already have enough problems to deal with.

Just then, Sasha gave her a light shake, snapping her out of her thoughts.

“Hey,” Sasha said, “you okay?”

“Yeah, just… lost in some thoughts,” Petra replied, forcing a faint smile.

“Okay,” Sasha nodded gently. “How are you feeling right now?”

“I’m okay,” Petra said quietly. “Just some pain. Nothing I can’t handle.”

Sasha studied her for a moment, concern flickering in her eyes, but she didn’t press further. Instead, she sat beside Petra, offering quiet company without needing to fill the silence.

Sasha gently patted Petra’s head, then launched into a series of silly jokes—doing her best to lighten the mood. Her energy was infectious, and before long, Petra found herself smiling for real.

The two of them spent the evening talking, laughing, and forgetting, just for a little while, about everything weighing on them.

That night, Petra let herself laugh—truly laugh. For the first time in a long time, even if only for a brief moment, she forgot her problems.

It felt good.

From what Petra had learned through Sasha, Hange and the others were genuinely good people. They were part of the military, assigned to a special mission, and currently stationed at the Scout Regiment headquarters in the southern region.

Because of her condition, their plans had been delayed significantly. Petra couldn’t help but feel responsible. Their time and efforts had been redirected to care for her, and that knowledge weighed heavily on her heart.

The next morning, Petra awoke to the familiar voices of her friends—Jean and Nicolo—who had come to visit her. The warmth of their presence filled the room.

“It’s good to see everyone,” she said softly, her smile tinged with a hint of guilt. “Even though you’ve all been through so much because of me.”

“Hey, Petra,” Jean said gently, stepping closer. “Are you okay now? Do you need anything?”

“Nope, I’m okay,” Petra replied with a small, reassuring smile.

Across the room, Sasha was already devouring the meal Nicolo had prepared, eating with her usual boundless enthusiasm. The two had met back in high school—Sasha, a self-proclaimed foodie, and Nicolo, who had always found joy in cooking. Over time, their bond had grown into something deeper, something lasting. Watching them now, it was clear how perfectly they complemented one another. Nicolo wasn’t just Sasha’s boyfriend—he was the one who truly understood and cherished her, food cravings and all.

Their growing closeness was something special—genuine and heartwarming.

Unusually, it hadn’t rained in days—a rare break in the gloomy weather. Petra had been in the hospital for three days now, and she already hated every minute of it. The sterile walls, the constant beeping, the feeling of helplessness—it all weighed on her.

She had made up her mind: as soon as she was discharged, she would stay with Sasha for a few days, gather her things, and move into the hostel as soon as possible. The thought of leaving the hospital filled her with impatient anticipation.

The hospital was a multispecialty facility—advanced and expensive. Though Hange-san had already covered the bills, Petra knew it was a heavy financial burden. It didn’t sit right with her. They had done so much for her already, and she was determined to pay them back, no matter what.

After a few days, Petra was finally discharged from the hospital.

During her stay, Hange and Erwin had visited often, offering support, encouragement, and help whenever she needed it. Their kindness meant more than she could express. But Levi—whom she had quietly hoped to see—never came. She wasn’t sure why, and the thought lingered in her mind longer than she cared to admit.

Though her condition had improved, Petra still couldn’t walk properly and needed help moving around. It was a rainy evening as they waited for the car to arrive. She and Sasha sat together in the reception area, watching the raindrops race down the glass. The discharge paperwork had already been handled—paid in full by hange and levi

Petra had seen Hange just the day before. She was a strong, brave soldier, full of energy and compassion. Her words had left a deep impression, encouraging Petra to stay strong and keep moving forward.

After what felt like hours, the car finally pulled up. Sasha and Nicolo helped Petra into the vehicle, shielding her from the rain as best they could. The ride to Sasha’s home was quiet, but Petra couldn’t help the knot of anxiety forming in her chest.

A part of her still feared her stepfather. What if he tried to hurt her again?

The thought clung to her like the dampness in the air—but this time, she wasn’t alone.

Chapter Text

After half an hour of travel, they arrived at Sasha’s home—a modest, single-story house nestled on a quiet street. She lived there with her parents, who warmly welcomed her and helped her inside. A room had already been prepared for her comfort. Grateful, Petra thanked them softly.

But even as she settled in, her thoughts were elsewhere. A heavy sense of unease tugged at her, an ominous whisper in her mind warning that something bad was about to happen. Though it made her tense, she eventually brushed it off, letting the calm of the moment ease her nerves.

By the time the clock struck eight, Sasha, her family, and Petra were gathered around the dinner table. The soft clinking of cutlery and gentle conversation filled the air—until a sudden, sharp knock shattered the quiet.

Petra jumped, startled by the unexpected sound. Sasha’s father rose from his seat and walked toward the door. When he opened it, a shadow from the past stood on the threshold.

There he was—Sasha’s step-guardian, clearly drunk, eyes wild with rage. Sasha’s heart sank, fear gripping her chest as she recognized the man who had haunted her life.

Without warning, he started yelling, his words slurred and venomous.
“Give that bitch back! She’s already caused enough trouble—and now you're trying to send me and my son to jail?”

He took a step forward, pointing past Sasha’s father toward her.
“Bitch, come here! I’m going to kill you!”

The room fell into stunned silence, the air thick with dread as chaos threatened to crash through the door.

The shouting quickly escalated. Sasha’s father stood his ground, refusing to let the man come any closer. Tempers flared, and within seconds, the confrontation turned physical.

Her step-guardian lunged forward, shoving Sasha’s father as the two struggled at the doorstep. In the chaos, the man pulled a knife from his jacket, the blade gleaming under the porch light. Gasps filled the room—Petra let out a scream, Sasha froze in horror.

With adrenaline surging, Sasha’s father reacted just in time. He shoved the man backward, then delivered a powerful kick that sent him stumbling down the steps. Without wasting a second, he grabbed his phone and called the police.

Sensing the tide turning, the drunken man staggered into the darkness, disappearing before the authorities could arrive.

Inside the house, the air was thick with shock and fear. Petra broke down in tears, her body trembling as she sank into a chair.
“He’s never going to stop,” she whispered, her voice cracking. “He’s haunting my life. No matter where I go… he finds me.”

Sasha’s mother tried to comfort her, but the weight of the moment was undeniable. Petra looked around at the frightened faces and the shaken home that had only just welcomed her.

“If I stay here any longer,” she said quietly, “I’ll only bring more danger to your family. It’s not safe for any of you.”

Her words hung heavy in the silence, a painful truth none of them wanted to face—but all understood.Despite the fear that lingered in the air, Sasha and her family rallied around Petra. Sasha gently held her trembling hand while her mother wrapped an arm around her shoulders, offering quiet comfort. Her father, still shaken but resolute, spoke firmly.

“You’re safe here, Petra. He’s not coming back tonight—and even if he does, we’ll protect you.”

“It’s the middle of the night,” Sasha added softly. “It’s not safe out there. You’re staying here—with us.”

Petra tried to protest, but her voice caught in her throat. The warmth and sincerity in their eyes—despite the danger she’d brought into their lives—were too much. Her heart ached with guilt and gratitude.

She nodded slowly, tears still brimming in her eyes. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered, barely audible.

Sasha shook her head. “You don’t have to be.”

That night, Petra curled up in the room Sasha’s family had prepared for her. But sleep did not come easily. She cried quietly into the pillow, the weight of fear, trauma, and love pressing down all at once. Eventually, exhaustion overtook her, and she drifted into a fragile sleep—safe, for now, within the walls of the one place that had not turned her away.

When Petra awoke the next morning, a pale stream of sunlight filtered through the curtains. For a brief moment, she felt weightless, caught in that thin space between dreaming and waking—until reality came rushing back.

The shouting. The knife. The fear in Sasha’s eyes.

She sat up slowly, heart pounding, as the muffled sound of voices reached her from the living room.

Carefully, she stepped out of the room. From the hallway, she saw two uniformed police officers seated with Sasha’s father, notebooks in hand. Their expressions were serious as he recounted the events of the night before. Sasha’s mother stood nearby, her arms folded tightly across her chest.

Petra’s eyes met Sasha’s for a fleeting second—concern, compassion, and quiet strength all reflected back at her.

But Petra said nothing. She stood still, her back against the wall, her breath shallow. The memories replayed vividly in her mind, and though she had slept, she had not truly rested. Her body was safe, but her spirit still trembled in yesterday’s shadow.

She didn’t speak. Not yet. She wasn’t ready.

And so, she remained silent—watching, listening, carrying the weight of everything she couldn’t bring herself to say.

Levi sat in his office chair, the dull scratch of his pen moving steadily across paperwork. His desk was buried beneath files—operation plans, soldier rosters, supply requests. The next military operation loomed close, and everyone was preparing. He could feel the shift in the air—tension tightening like a drawn wire.

A knock at the door broke the monotony.

“Captain Levi—”

“Yes?”

“Your tea.”

He gave a brief nod. “Thank you. You can go now.”

As the door clicked shut, he wrapped his fingers around the warm cup and took a slow sip. The bitterness grounded him. Just as he leaned back slightly in his chair, the door slammed open without warning.

“Hange. Erwin,” Levi said flatly, not even glancing up.

“Don’t look so thrilled to see us,” Hange grinned, dragging a chair across the floor and dropping into it.

Erwin followed with a small chuckle, setting a file on Levi’s desk. “Just checking in.”

They exchanged light chatter—military updates, strategy speculation, Hange throwing in the occasional ridiculous theory. Levi listened, responding with the occasional grunt or dry remark.

Then, mid-conversation, Hange casually added, “Oh—Petra’s been discharged from the hospital. Everything’s alright now. She’s staying with a friend.”

Levi’s hand paused around his cup. His eyes flicked toward the window, gaze unfocused for a moment.

He didn’t say anything, but he let out a barely audible sigh.

Amber eyes. He remembered them more vividly than he wanted to admit.

“She’s with Sasha, right?” he asked, voice low.

Hange nodded. “Yeah. I’ve got Sasha’s number now. If her stepfather shows up again…” She paused, her tone darkening. “I’ll take action. My way.”

Levi nodded once, his expression unreadable.

But inside, a silent agreement formed.

If that man dared to threaten her again—he wouldn’t be walking away.

On the other side~

Life at Sasha’s house had slowly begun to return to a sense of normalcy. Her family had welcomed Petra without hesitation, offering comfort, understanding, and a sense of safety she hadn’t felt in a long time. Though the memories still haunted her, she began to breathe a little easier.

Outside, the season was shifting. The first rains of the early nights had begun, tapping gently against the windows and roof like a lullaby. After dinner, the family retired to their rooms, the warm silence of a peaceful home settling in.

Petra lay curled under the blankets in the guest room, half-asleep. Her body was heavy with exhaustion, her mind drifting into the edges of a restless dream. But then—something.

A sound. A soft, repeated tapping at the window.

She groaned faintly, too tired to sit up at first. Probably just the wind, she thought. But the noise continued—persistent. Annoyed, she finally opened her eyes, turning her head toward the window.

What she saw turned her blood to ice.

There, just outside the glass, was her stepfather—soaked from the rain, eyes burning with sick rage, a twisted smile crawling across his face. He dragged the edge of a knife slowly across the windowpane, the screeching sound slicing through the silence.

And he was licking his lips.

Petra froze. Her breath caught in her throat, her entire body locked in place as sheer terror rooted her to the bed.

Then—he screamed.

A wild, guttural roar that shattered the stillness.

The door burst open.

Sasha and her parents stormed into the room, panic etched across their faces. Her father took one look at the window, then turned and ran to the garage. He returned with a golf club gripped tightly in his hands, fury in his steps as he stormed outside.

Sasha’s mother grabbed her phone with shaking hands and called the police, her voice firm but frantic.

Petra remained motionless, trembling, eyes still locked on the window as if she were afraid to blink. Her heart pounded in her chest like a war drum. She didn’t know what to do, what to say
—she only knew that the nightmare had found her again.---

That night had erupted into chaos. After a long and turbulent evening, everyone eventually dispersed. Yet, her stepfather remained outside, lurking in the shadows, still consumed by a violent intent to harm her.

Though the danger had passed for now, fear still clung to her — not just fear of him, but of Sasha’s family getting caught in the crossfire.

Days had gone by since the incident. Petra was slowly beginning to recover, showing signs of strength she hadn’t displayed before. She had already started searching for a hostel near her college.

Staying any longer with Sasha’s family was no longer an option — it simply wasn’t safe for them.

Petra filed another complaint, hoping that this time, the authorities would take meaningful action.

---

Levi’s POV

It was a long morning — the kind that drags even when everything seems to be in order. The upcoming mission in the southern region had been mapped out, preparations were running smoothly, and yet… something felt off.

Out of nowhere, an image flashed in my mind — amber eyes. Sharp, haunting.

I don’t even know her that well. We’ve barely exchanged words.

So why the hell is she lingering in my thoughts like this?

Maybe it's the eyes. They remind me of someone... someone I’d rather not remember.

I was buried in paperwork, trying to clear up the last bit of mission prep, when Hange walked in carrying a stack of files. She stuck around, chatting idly while I worked — nothing unusual.

Then her phone rang.

It was Sasha. I didn’t think much of it until I noticed Hange’s expression shift mid-conversation. Her smile faded, replaced by something… tense. Concerned.

She hung up abruptly.

“What’s going on, four-eyes?” I asked, straightening up.

“It’s about Petra,” Hange said quietly. “Her stepdad… he’s been trying to reach her again. He even tried to break into the house once.”

My hands clenched without thinking. Anger flared in my chest like a switch being flipped.

“What the hell is that bastard doing roaming free? They should’ve called the cops.”

“They did,” Hange nodded. “Right after it happened. The authorities stepped in, and they say things have been quiet since. He hasn’t come back.”

“Still,” I muttered, jaw tight, “it’s dangerous.”

“I asked Sasha if they needed help, but she said they’re okay for now,” Hange added.

I didn’t reply right away. Something about this doesn’t sit right. I don’t even know Petra that well… so why am I so damn worried?

“How’s she doing now?” I asked quietly. “Petra?”

Hange looked up from the report in her hands. “She’s getting better,” she said with a small nod. “Regaining her energy. She’s planning to go back to college next week — already missed too many classes as it is.”

“Okay…” I replied, though it came out more like a breath than a word.

I didn’t know what else to ask. Nothing felt right.

So I just sat there in silence, letting the room fall quiet around us.

My thoughts drifted back to her — what she’d been through, how close things had come.

She shouldn’t have to deal with any of that.

And yet… she was.

Strong, maybe. But that didn’t stop me from worrying.

Chapter Text

Petra was doing relatively well—she had secured a spot at the girls' hostel and would be moving in soon. However, all her belongings were still at her stepfather’s house, and retrieving them posed a serious challenge. The neighborhood was far from safe, and going there alone wasn’t an option.

She and Sasha had considered going together, but Petra couldn’t shake the fear of putting her friend in danger. Although her stepfather had recently been taken into custody under suspicion, his son—Petra’s stepbrother—still lived there. And if anything, he was even more dangerous. The thought of facing him made the situation far more threatening.

To make matters worse, Jean and Nicolo were both out of town, and Sasha’s father was away on work. With no one else to turn to, Petra found herself trapped—unsure of how to retrieve her belongings without putting herself or anyone else at risk.
Sasha suddenly broke the silence.
"Hey… what if we called Hange-san or something? Maybe she could help us."

Petra shook her head. "No, Sasha. They’ve already done so much for me. I can’t bother them again—not for something like this. I have to figure it out on my own."

Sasha let out a sigh. "But Hange-san said we could call her anytime we needed help. She meant it, you know. She might even send someone with us… an officer, maybe."

"I know," Petra said quietly, "but I’ve already asked for too much. I just can’t trouble them again, Sasha."

A heavy silence fell between them. They sat still, eyes locked, each waiting for the other to speak.

Then Sasha leaned forward slightly.
"Look, this could be the last time we ask them for help. I promise."

Petra hesitated, her expression clouded with guilt. "That’s not a good idea, girl. They already delayed their mission for a few days because of me. I’ve caused enough trouble for them."

Her voice trembled.
"I don’t know, Sasha. I really don’t. I already feel like I’ve crossed a line."

Just this one last time, I promise," Sasha begged, her voice soft but insistent.

"Sasha… I don’t know, girl," Petra murmured, uncertainty written all over her face.

"I’m taking that as a yes," Sasha said quickly, already reaching for her phone. "I’m calling Hange-san and asking if she can do something about this."

Petra didn’t respond. She just let out a quiet sigh and looked away, eyes fixed on a distant spot, lost in thought.

---

It was a calm, steady afternoon—unusually sunny for a season that had seen more rain than warmth. The clear sky felt like a quiet blessing.

Levi, Erwin, Hange, and her husband, Moblit, were on their way to a wedding reception for one of their colleagues. Moblit was at the wheel, his eyes flicking between the road and the passenger seat where Hange sat, animated as ever, chatting away and gazing out the open window.

"Hange, don’t do that—girl, do you wanna lose your head?" Moblit said, tension creeping into his voice as he reached out to gently pull her back by the arm. "Just put your head inside, please."

Hange only giggled in response, the wind whipping through her hair. "Relax, Moblit. I’m just looking!"

Moblit muttered under his breath, his grip on the steering wheel tightening, clearly more nervous than amused.

In the back seat, Levi and Erwin were unfazed. They were long used to Hange’s reckless curiosity. The two men sat quietly, their conversation low and focused—discussing the critical mission scheduled to take place in just two days.

The mood in the car balanced somewhere between lighthearted and tense, a rare mix of normalcy and the ever-present undercurrent of duty that followed them wherever they went.

Suddenly, Hange’s phone buzzed.

She glanced at the screen, then quickly answered.
"Heyyy, Sasha! How are you, girl? How’s Petra doing?"

Levi's gaze immediately shifted toward Hange, his expression sharpening as he subtly leaned in, sensing something important.

Hange listened for a moment, her tone growing more serious.
"Yeah… okay. I’ll do something about that."

She nodded as Sasha spoke on the other end.
"Alright, girl, I’ll send someone. Don’t worry," Hange said reassuringly. Then added softly, "And don’t say that, girl. You’re not troubling us—it’s our duty to help you. We’ve got your back."

A smile tugged at her lips as she ended the call.
"Okay, I’m actually on my way to a wedding right now, but I’ll call you later, alright? Bye!"

She hung up.

From the back seat, Erwin asked curiously, "What was that about? Her stepdad again?"

Hange shook her head. "No, he’s still in police custody. This is about going back to her house. Petra needs to retrieve her things."

"Tch," Levi scoffed, his brows drawing together. "Going to her house—for what?"

She’s moving,” Hange explained, slipping her phone back into her coat pocket. “Petra needs to collect her things from her stepdad’s house. She and Sasha were planning to go, but there’s no one else available to go with them.”

"Tch," Levi muttered, sighing as he leaned back against the seat.

“The problem is, her stepbrother is still there,” Hange continued. “And it’s not safe for just the two of them to go alone. So they asked if someone could accompany them—for protection.”

Erwin looked over. “When?”

“Maybe tomorrow,” Hange replied.

“I won’t be around tomorrow,” Erwin said firmly. “Only two days until the mission. I have preparations to oversee.”

“You or Levi could go, right?” he added, glancing at the two in front.

“I’m not free either,” Hange said, adjusting her glasses. “Moblit and I have to report to the military headquarters tomorrow morning.”

Erwin turned to Levi. “Then it’ll have to be you.”

Levi didn’t answer right away. He just gave a quiet, reluctant “Tch,” before muttering, “Fine.”

But somewhere deep in his guarded heart, a flicker of something stirred—something unspoken. The thought of seeing that ginger-haired girl with the amber eyes again... it brought a strange feeling. Not quite annoyance. Not quite duty.

Something else entirely.

The next day arrived under a curtain of heavy rain. The sky was dark, and thunder rolled across the clouds like distant drums. Sheets of rain poured over the streets, turning puddles into miniature rivers.

Sasha and Petra stood under a small awning, shivering slightly as they waited. The wind howled, rattling nearby windows. The storm wasn’t letting up.

After about fifteen minutes, headlights cut through the downpour, and a car slowly pulled up in front of them. Without hesitation, the girls dashed through the rain and slipped inside.

“Thanks for—” Sasha began, but stopped when she saw who was behind the wheel.

Petra froze, her breath catching.

Levi.

Her eyes widened slightly in disbelief. She hadn’t expected him to come. She thought it would be someone from Hange’s team—or maybe even a junior officer. Not Captain Levi.

For a few seconds, they just stared at each other. Silent. Still.

Then, with a quiet sigh, Levi started the engine. "Tch."

The tension was thick in the car. No one spoke. Not even Sasha—though that didn’t stop her from digging into a bag of snacks, the quiet rustle the only sound in the car besides the rain.

After a few blocks, Levi finally broke the silence.
“Where’s your house? Give me the address.”

Petra cleared her throat softly and recited it.

Levi gave a slight nod, eyes never leaving the road.

Silence returned—thick, awkward, and heavy. The storm outside echoed the unspoken thoughts hanging between them.

Only Sasha, unfazed, continued munching away, blissfully unaware—or perhaps intentionally ignoring—the tension in the air.

Levi's POV

The rain was relentless this morning—cold, heavy, and loud enough to drown out my thoughts. I sat behind the wheel, waiting, watching the street blur through the windshield.

Then I saw them.

Petra stood there with Sasha, half-sheltered under an awning, her coat barely keeping the downpour off her oversized dress. She looked smaller than I remembered—delicate, almost, standing beside Sasha. And then those amber eyes caught mine again, even from a distance.

Damn eyes.

A second later, they ran through the rain and climbed into the car. Neither of them expected me to be here—that much was obvious. Petra stared at me like I was a ghost. I looked back. Said nothing.

We didn’t exchange a word.

I kept my focus on the road, hands steady on the wheel. After a long stretch of silence, I asked, “Where’s your house? Give me the address.”

She gave it to me quietly.

Then silence settled again, thick and awkward. Only Sasha’s snack bag rustled, every bite and crunch louder than necessary.

If she drops even one crumb on my seat… I swear, she’s cleaning this damn car.

I sighed, not out of annoyance—but to break the stillness. The wipers swept rhythmically, the storm outside mirroring the strange weight in the car.

No one spoke again.

Just the rain. Just the road. And those amber eyes lingering in the back of my mind.

They finally reached Petra’s old home—a run-down apartment building that had clearly seen better days. Her unit was on the third floor. The entire place gave off a creepy, abandoned vibe, made worse by the torrential rain and thunder crashing above them.

Everyone stepped out of the car and hurried toward the entrance.

Levi glanced around, frowning in disgust.

“This is where you lived? Tch. No one cleans these buildings?” he muttered under his breath.

Petra didn’t respond. She just walked ahead silently.

Levi sighed and followed them toward the elevator. It was one of those ancient models with flickering lights and slow doors. He grimaced at the state of it, but taking the stairs wasn’t an option—Petra couldn’t manage that in her condition.

Once they reached the third floor, Petra immediately spotted her elderly neighbor sitting near a window, watching the rain.

“Grandma Lise!” Petra called softly. She ran over and hugged the woman tightly.

They spoke quietly for a few moments, the old woman’s eyes warm but sad.

Levi leaned against the hallway wall, already checking his phone. Sasha stood beside him, still snacking loudly from her box of treats.

He gave her a sharp look.

Sasha froze, then gave him a sheepish smile and quickly put the box away.

Soon, they reached Petra’s apartment.

“I’ll just grab my stuff. You guys wait here,” Petra said as she unlocked the door and slipped inside.

Levi and Sasha stayed near the entrance. Rain pattered steadily outside the window. The apartment remained eerily silent for a while—until the sudden sound of shattering glass cut through the quiet.

Without hesitation, Levi rushed in. Sasha was right behind him.

What they saw made Levi’s blood boil.

Petra’s stepbrother had her pinned to the floor, his hands grabbing at her clothes, trying to rip her dress.

Levi didn’t say a word—his fist connected with the man’s face so hard, he went limp instantly, collapsing to the ground, unconscious.

Sasha hurried to Petra, pulling her upright. That’s when she noticed the blood.

“Petra, your hand—you're bleeding!”

A shard from the broken glass table had sliced her palm. Blood dripped steadily down her wrist.

Levi turned toward them, knelt down, and gently took Petra’s injured hand. He silently pulled the shard out, then wrapped her wound in his own handkerchief with surprising care.

“T-Thank you... Captain Levi,” Petra whispered, voice shaking.

Levi didn’t answer. He stood up and left the room without a word, jaw tight.

Sasha and Petra packed up her belongings quickly and left. Before they exited the building, Petra returned to Grandma Lise for one final goodbye.

The old woman tried to give her some money, but Petra gently refused. Instead, Grandma Lise pressed a small locket into her hands.

“Keep it close to your heart,” she said.

Petra nodded, clutching it tightly before attaching it to her necklace. They hugged through tears, saying goodbye with heavy hearts.

The car ride back was silent.

Levi’s knuckles were still slightly red on the steering wheel, his jaw locked in frustration. Sasha and Petra sat quietly in the backseat, not daring to speak.

Only the sound of rain filled the silence.

And the lingering weight of what had happened.

They finally reached Sasha’s house. The rain had lightened into a soft drizzle, but the sky still hung heavy and gray.

It was time to say goodbye.

Levi sat behind the wheel, hands still firm on the steering wheel, unwilling to let go of the silence. He didn’t know if he’d ever see those amber eyes again.

They lingered in the car for a moment longer. Sasha was the first to speak, her usual energy dimmed.

“Alright... I’ll get these inside,” she said, grabbing some of Petra’s belongings from the back seat.

She gave Petra a small smile before stepping out and walking toward the house, leaving just the two of them.

Petra remained still, her hands resting on her lap, eyes downcast.

“Thanks for today… Captain Levi,” she said softly, barely above a whisper.

“Tch… okay,” Levi replied, glancing away.

But Petra didn’t move. She lingered, as if her body was waiting for permission her heart couldn’t give.

Levi caught her reflection in the rearview mirror—she was still sitting there, frozen in thought, unwilling to leave.

After a long moment, Petra finally opened the door and stepped out, grabbing the rest of her bags.

She turned toward him one last time.

Their eyes met.

She smiled—gentle, genuine, and quietly heartbreaking.

Levi didn’t smile back. He just watched her. His face was unreadable, but his eyes carried something else. Something that looked too much like sorrow.

Then, without a word, he shifted gears and drove away.

A heavy sigh escaped his chest as the car disappeared down the road.

He didn’t know if he’d ever meet those eyes again.

But he hoped.

Somewhere deep inside—he hoped.

Petra’s POV
After everything that happened today, I feel… strange. Off.

I don’t know why, but I really want to see Captain Levi again. We barely know each other. We’ve only met a couple of times, hardly even talked.

And yet… there’s something about him.

I’m not in love with him—at least, I don’t think I am. But he’s different. Quiet, strong, distant… but he was there for me when I needed someone the most.

He didn’t say much. He never really does. But his actions spoke louder than words ever could.

I still have his handkerchief, wrapped gently around my hand. It’s the only thing I have of him. I keep it close to me, almost like it’s a part of him I can hold onto.

I don’t know when—or if—I’ll ever see him again. But I hope I do.

And I’m so grateful to Hange-san and Commander Erwin. Without them, I don’t know what would’ve happened today.

Still, in the middle of all this mess, all I can think about…
is those quiet gray eyes.

It had been a week since the incident. Petra had since moved into the hostel, settling into a new rhythm of life. Her roommate, Historia, was a kind-hearted and gentle girl, a little younger than Petra, and the two had already formed a close bond. Seeking independence and stability, Petra also began working a part-time job at a convenience store just a short walk from the girls' hostel.

At Scout Headquarters —

The mission had been a success, and for once, a calm, easy silence had settled over the Scout Regiment. Hange and the others were enjoying a rare moment of peace, gathered together in one of the common rooms. They were deep in chatter, laughter bubbling up often as Hange bickered playfully with her squad. Moblit, as always, wore a tense expression, especially when Hange’s enthusiasm veered toward the chaotic—something she was well known for.

Meanwhile, in another corner, Levi and his squad were quietly enjoying their usual tea time, the clinking of porcelain a soft counterpoint to the noise nearby. Erwin, as expected, remained locked in his office, immersed in paperwork.

During a pause in conversation, Hange suddenly turned to Moblit with a teasing smile.
“Moblit, honey, did you know Petra’s already moved out?”

Moblit looked up, surprised. “Oh? Is she okay?”

“She’s doing great,” Hange replied, grinning. “She’s been texting me lately. She even picked up a part-time job at a convenience store near her hostel.”

“That’s good to hear,” Moblit said, visibly relieved. “Sounds like she’s settling in well.”

Hange glanced sideways, eyes narrowing just slightly as she caught something in Levi’s expression—almost imperceptible, but not enough to escape her.

“What’s the matter, Levi? Something bothering you?” she asked with a knowing smirk.

“Tch. Huh?” Levi frowned, feigning indifference. “No.”

But despite his terse response, there was a flicker of something in his eyes. He wouldn’t say it out loud—but the mention of that ginger-haired girl clearly hadn’t gone unnoticed.

Hange leaned in, squinting at Levi with exaggerated suspicion.
“Heyyy, Levi, don’t lie. I’ve been watching you—you’ve been zoning out a lot lately. Is it about Petra?”

“Tch. Don’t make up stories, Hange,” Levi muttered, his arms crossed. “It’s just work pressure.”

“Hmm, sure, Captain Serious,” Hange said, giggling. “If you say so.”

She rocked back on her heels, mischief dancing in her eyes. “Wanna know something interesting, Levi?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Tch, what now? Did you finally decide to clean the lab or maybe the entire HQ? Then, maybe I’ll listen.”

“No, mr.clean freak—it’s about Petra,” Hange sang teasingly, already turning on her heel.

Levi's eyes narrowed. “What?”

“She’s staying in a hostel near this area,” Hange called out over her shoulder, waving as she disappeared down the hall, clearly enjoying the reaction she’d stirred.

Levi’s POV —

Why is Hange so damn annoying? Levi rubbed his temple in frustration. Am I really that obvious?

He scowled at the empty doorway. Hange could be dramatic—no, she was dramatic. Always reading too much into things.
It’s not like I miss Petra. Not really. I just...

His thoughts betrayed him.
I only liked her eyes... not her. Or something.

But the truth was harder to push down than he wanted to admit.

Her eyes came back to him—warm, determined, always looking up to him with quiet strength.

And just like that, Petra was in his thoughts again.

____

Late Night Thoughts – Petra’s Room

Petra had just come back from work after her usual five-hour shift. She had worn her uniform straight after college and barely had time to rest all day. As soon as she got to the hostel, she took a warm bath, changed into her cozy pajamas, and slipped under the covers. Historia was already fast asleep in the bed beside her.

Just as Petra was about to drift off, her phone lit up with a call.

Sasha.

Petra answered with a sleepy smile. “Sasha? What are you doing calling this late? Are you hungry again?”

“Nooo,” Sasha replied cheerfully, her mouth clearly full. “I’m already eating! I just wanted to talk to someone.”

“This hour? You’re insane, girl,” Petra said, giggling.

“But listen—I have something juicy to tell you!”

“Oh boy… go on then.”

“You know Connie? That bald guy who’s my friend?”

“Yeah?”

“Well, he joined the military!”

“For real?” Petra laughed. “Connie in the military? That’s going to be hilarious.”

“I thought the same,” Sasha said. “But get this—he said he knows Hange-san, Captain Levi, and Commander Erwin.”

“Well, that’s obvious. He’s in the military now.”

“Yeah, yeah. But don’t you wanna know something interesting?” Sasha said, her voice getting more playful.

“What?”

“You know Captain Levi, right?”

Just hearing his name made Petra freeze for a second. Her heart skipped a beat, and she shifted under the blanket.
“Of course,” she replied.

“He’s already thirty-three”

“Huh? Seriously? He doesn’t look like it at all!”

“I’m telling you the truth,” Sasha said. “And he’s a total clean freak. Also, connie said he’s the strongest in the entire squad .”

“I know, girl,” Petra chuckled. “He’s seriously obsessed with cleanness. Remember when he punched Han? My brother fainted with just one hit.”

“Oh my God,” Sasha burst out laughing. “And once, I was eating snacks in his car. He glared at me so hard I thought he’d punch my snack box out the window!”

They both giggled quietly, careful not to wake Historia.

Then Sasha dropped another piece of gossip.
“Also… Hange-san and Moblit fell in love at HQ.”

“No way,” Petra said, surprised.

“Yup! He was her assistant, always by her side, looking after her… and eventually, they just fell for each other.”

“Aww, that’s so cute,” Petra smiled. “They really are a perfect match.”

“Right? Anyway, Connie has more tea but I’ll tell you tomorrow. My food’s over. Byeee!”

And just like that, Sasha hung up—giggling, as always.

Petra stared at the ceiling, smiling softly at her friend’s silliness

Petra’s POV

Thirty-three…
He doesn’t look like it at all. He’s still so composed, so precise… so unreadable.

She reached under her pillow and pulled out a neatly folded handkerchief—the one Levi had given her a while ago. It was freshly washed, yet still felt special in her hands.

I should return it… maybe it’s just an excuse to see him again.

She held it close to her chest, closed her eyes, and whispered to herself,

“I hope I see him soon.”

Chapter Text

The next morning, Petra and Historia were getting ready for college.
Petra wore a beautiful skirt and top—a cherished gift from her mother when she was still alive. As she stood before the mirror, she paused, her reflection stirring memories of her mother. The resemblance felt almost uncanny, and for a moment, it was as if her mother was right there with her.

Historia was already dressed and waiting patiently.
Outside, the rain had begun to fall, soft and steady.
With umbrellas in hand, the two girls stepped into the damp morning, walking side by side through the rain-slicked streets toward college. Raindrops danced on rooftops and puddles mirrored the gray skies as they moved forward, quietly taking in the beauty of the rainy day.
They reached college just as the rain softened into a drizzle. Historia, being a junior student, headed to her classroom, while Petra made her way alone to the arts department. She was studying fine arts, while Sasha, someone , was in the music department.

Petra didn’t have any friends in her class. She quietly slipped into her usual seat, eyes lowered, her sketchbook open in front of her. She stared at her unfinished drawings, pretending to be focused, though her mind was clouded with unease.

There were still ten minutes before class began.

Without warning, a book struck her back. She flinched, but didn’t turn around. She already knew who it was—Floch. It was always him and his group. Their teasing had become routine.

They mocked her clothes, whispered about her family, and sneered at her silence. They joked about how poor she was, how out of place she looked among them. And it wasn’t just the words—it was the laughter, the smug smiles, the way they looked at her like she didn’t belong.

Petra hated them. She hated how small they made her feel. Their wealth seemed to give them power, and they used it to break others down. She wished she had the courage to speak up. But instead, she sat still, silent, and hurting.

The teasing continued for a while—snide comments, muffled laughter, and mocking whispers that Petra tried to block out. She kept her head down, her hands clenched around the edges of her sketchbook. Fortunately, it didn’t last long. The professor entered the room, and the class quickly fell into silence.

A couple of hours passed, filled with lectures and quiet note-taking. Then came the announcement—afternoon classes were canceled due to the worsening rain.

Students buzzed with excitement, packing their things and hurrying out. Petra lingered in her seat. Only then did she realize she had forgotten her umbrella. She had come with Historia that morning, and they had shared one. But now, Historia was nowhere to be seen—she had already left with some of her friends.

Petra glanced out the window. The rain was pouring relentlessly, soaking everything in sight. She sighed softly, hugging her bag close, unsure whether to wait or brave the storm alone.

---

Petra finally decided to make a run for it. Clutching her bag tightly to her chest, she dashed through the rain, her footsteps splashing against waterlogged pavement. Soaked and shivering, she reached the nearest bus stop and took shelter beneath the small awning.

She sat on the bench, her clothes damp and clinging to her skin, watching cars and buses pass by in blurred streaks of light and water. The rain wasn’t softening—it was getting worse, heavy and relentless. The streets looked almost flooded, and the gray sky above offered no hint of a break.

Petra hugged her knees and stared out at the rain, her thoughts drifting. She wondered where Sasha was—last she knew, Sasha had gone to the music room, but she hadn’t returned since. And Jean… Nicolo… they were usually around after class, hanging out in the courtyard or joking near the campus gate. But today, she hadn’t seen either of them.

A quiet unease settled over her as she sat alone, waiting. Waiting for the rain to stop, for a familiar face to appear—anything to make her feel less forgotten.

It had been over thirty minutes since Petra had taken shelter at the bus stop, and the rain showed no signs of letting up. Her clothes were still damp, her hair stuck to her face, and a cold breeze made her shiver. She sighed and pulled out her phone.

Petra (texting): Hey Sasha, where are you right now?

A few moments later, her phone buzzed.

Sasha: I already reached home. Music class got off early this time.

Petra hesitated, then typed again:

Petra: Do you know where Jean and Nicolo are?

Sasha: They went out of the city today. Are you okay?

Petra: Yeah, I’m fine. I’ll text you later.

She didn’t want to trouble Sasha. She knew her well—Sasha was the type who’d come rushing over without thinking twice, even in this storm. Petra didn’t want to drag anyone into that.

She sat still, watching the rain blur the view of the road, feeling more and more alone. Cars came and went, splashing through the flooded street. Then, one car slowed down and pulled up to the bus stop. It was sleek and expensive-looking.

Her stomach sank. For a moment, she thought it might be Floch—he was known for showing off in flashy cars, the type who enjoyed the attention. She tensed instinctively.

But then, the passenger window rolled down, and a familiar voice called out through the rain.

“Petra! Get in—it’s pouring out here!”

She blinked, surprised. It was Hange. She waved enthusiastically from the passenger seat, her glasses slightly fogged up from the humidity.

Relieved, Petra stood up quickly. “Okay, Hange-san!” she called back, her voice barely audible over the sound of rain. She opened the back door and climbed in, grateful for the warmth and safety of the car.

The moment Petra stepped into the car, a jolt of surprise passed through her. Sitting behind the wheel was none other than Levi, his expression unreadable as usual. In the passenger seat, Hange turned around with her usual energetic grin, and beside Petra in the backseat was Moblit, who looked slightly worse for wear.

She greeted them politely, her voice soft. “Good evening, everyone.”

“Heyyy, Petra!” Hange beamed. “What on earth are you doing out here in the rain at this hour?”

Petra offered a small, apologetic smile. “I was heading back to my hostel. College ended early because of the weather, but I… forgot to bring an umbrella.”

“Ah, classic Petra,” Hange chuckled. “We’ll drop you off—right, Levi?”

“Tch,” Levi muttered without looking at anyone, his eyes fixed firmly on the road ahead.

Petra’s gaze drifted to Moblit and she noticed the faint bruising on his arms and some singe marks on his coat. Concern flashed in her eyes.

“What happened, Moblit-kun?” she asked gently.

Moblit sighed in defeat. “Hange’s latest experiment. It blew up—literally.”

“Hey, it was almost a success,” Hange laughed unabashedly.

“Are you okay?” Petra asked with concern.

“I’m fine,” Moblit reassured her. “Just a few bruises. Nothing new.”

The laughter died down, and Petra’s eyes found their way to Levi again. He was quiet, focused, his sharp profile lit faintly by the glow of the streetlights through the rain-splattered windshield.

Just seeing him made something flutter inside her chest—a strange warmth that defied the cold air. Her fingers curled around a handkerchief in her lap. It was his. He had given it to her once, a quiet act of kindness she hadn’t forgotten. At the time, she had intended to return it… but now, she couldn’t bring herself to let it go.

Before long, the car slowed to a stop in front of her hostel.

“This is your place, right?” Hange asked, turning around to face her.

Petra nodded. “Yes… Thank you for the ride, Hange-san. Thank you, Moblit-kun.” Her eyes lingered again on Levi. “And… thank you, Levi-san.”

Hange smirked knowingly. “Ooooh, Levi,” she said in a teasing tone. “She’s giving you that look. At least say something nice back. Don’t be an ass.”

Levi exhaled, clearly annoyed. “Bye,” he said gruffly, never once turning to look at Petra.

A flicker of disappointment passed through her eyes, but she smiled faintly and replied, “Bye,” before stepping out of the car and running through the rain toward her hostel door.

Back inside the car, Hange burst into laughter.

“Aww, are you sad now, Levi? That was the most awkward goodbye I’ve ever seen!”

Levi’s eyes narrowed. “Shut it, you shifty bitch, or I swear I’ll kick you out of my damn car.”

Moblit groaned from the back. “And here we go again…”

Levi’s POV

We were heading back—me, Hange, and Moblit. Moblit couldn’t drive in his condition, not after being caught in one of Hange’s so-called "controlled experiments." The guy looked like he’d been through a fireworks show.

The rain kept pounding on the windshield. I drove in silence, until Hange suddenly leaned forward and pointed.

“Stop the car at the next bus stop.”

I frowned. “Why? You leaving? Then great—I’ll be celebrating.”

She snorted. “Not leaving. Someone important to you is standing there.”

Her tone had that annoying lilt—the kind that meant trouble. I didn’t respond, just pulled the car over.

And then I saw her.

Petra.

She was sitting alone at the bus stop, her skirt soaked, hair clinging to her cheeks, eyes gazing somewhere distant like she was lost in thought. She looked… fragile in that moment, like the rain could carry her away. Something in my chest tightened, but I shoved it down.

Hange rolled down the window and waved her over like it was no big deal. Said we’d drop her off at her hostel.

Of course she’d do that.

I knew Hange would tease me if I said or did anything, so I kept my face blank and eyes forward. Still, I caught glimpses of Petra through the rearview mirror—just small moments. The way she nervously tucked her hair behind her ear. The way she held something tightly in her hands… was that the handkerchief?

I didn’t say a word. But I wanted to. I just didn’t know what.

Hange’s teasing got louder, so I focused on the road.

Then we reached her hostel. She thanked all of us—even me. I didn’t respond at first.

“She’s waiting,” Hange muttered with a smirk.

“Tch. Bye,” I muttered, eyes on the road.

She stepped out, glanced at me one last time, and ran off into the rain.

I watched until I couldn’t see her anymore.

I didn’t know what I was feeling. It was… annoying.

Hange turned in her seat, grinning like a demon. “Aww, Levi. Gonna miss her? My little Levi, so sweet when he's in lo—"

“Shut it, you shifty glasses-wearing devil,” I snapped. “Say one more word and I swear I’ll throw you and your husband out of the damn car.”

“I’m innocent,” Moblit said quickly. “Just kick her out. Spare me.”

“Traitor,” Hange gasped dramatically, then burst into laughter again.

I ignored both of them, eyes back on the road. The image of Petra, drenched and quiet, still lingered in my head like a curse.

Petra’s POV

Today had been... exhausting.

From the awkward tension at college, the usual teasing, the heavy rain, and rushing to work afterward—by the time I returned to the hostel, I could barely keep my eyes open. My body ached. My mind wouldn’t rest. The clock blinked 11:00 PM.

The rain was still pouring outside. Steady. Relentless. Just like my thoughts.

Unbidden, my mind wandered back to the car ride.

Levi.

He hadn’t said much. In fact, he barely looked at me. Was he annoyed to see me there? Did he hate me? I felt like I was always in the way… always causing some sort of trouble. Maybe he was just being polite, and deep down, he wished I hadn’t stepped into that car at all.

But…

Even then, seeing him unexpectedly—it made something in me flutter. That brief moment, even in silence, felt like something I couldn’t quite explain.

Why am I even thinking like this?

He’s in his thirties… he’s probably got someone. A girlfriend. A wife, maybe.

What am I even thinking?!

I shook my head, pulling the blanket tighter around me.

No, Petra. Stop it. Don’t let your feelings drift there.

Just then, Historia’s voice cut through the quiet. “Hey… you okay? You’ve been staring at the ceiling for the last ten minutes.”

I forced a small smile. “Just… some thoughts. Nothing big.”

Historia nodded. “You’ve had a long day. Try to sleep, okay?”

“Yeah,” I whispered. “Good night.”

“Good night.”

As the room dimmed and the world outside stayed soaked in rain, I curled deeper into the blanket. My heart was still restless. Somewhere between reality and dreams… I saw his eyes again.

And I didn’t know whether to smile or run from the feeling.

~~

Everyone had returned to HQ. Though they each had their own apartments outside, they still chose to live together at headquarters — part of the job, and part of the strange bond they shared.

It was already late when Hange and Moblit found themselves talking in the library. The warm glow of the desk lamp cast soft shadows on the old books surrounding them.

Hange: “Moblit… I’m sorry for burning your hands earlier.”

Moblit: raising a brow “Huh? Did you hit your head somewhere? Are you okay? Should we see a doctor?”

Usually, Hange wasn’t like this around him. She had done far more dangerous experiments before — half of them failures — and never once apologized like this.

Hange: frowning, lightly tapping his forehead “Moblittt… don’t make me angry, guy.”

Moblit: rubbing his head, laughing “Ouch! Okay, okay, I’m kidding.”
He reached out and gently took her hands in his. They smiled at each other for a quiet moment.

Hange: “Honey?”

Moblit: “Hmm?”

Hange: “Have you noticed Levi lately? Don’t you think he seems… zoned out? Like his mind’s somewhere else entirely?”

Moblit: shrugs “No? I don’t really feel that. He’s always been like that, hasn’t he?”

Hange: looking at him more seriously “No, hun. He’s changed. Every time Petra’s name comes up… his expression shifts.”

Moblit: thinking “Hmm. So that’s why you teased him with Petra earlier? You think Levi likes her? I’m not sure… I didn’t feel that.”

Hange: “I don’t know. But the awkwardness around her — that says something. You know?”

Moblit: “Maybe it’s not love. Maybe it’s sympathy… or something else. Petra’s life has been pretty chaotic. Maybe her story hit him harder than he lets on. But… Petra’s strong. Even after everything. Even after… the suicide attempt. She’s still standing.”

Hange: softly “I don’t know, Moblit. Maybe someday we’ll figure it out.”

She leaned back, exhaling slowly, eyes drifting up to the ceiling.

Hange: “But yeah… Petra’s a strong, sweet girl. I really like her. And obviously, Sasha — you know she matches my energy.”

Moblit: laughing “That all-the-time-hungry girl? Yeah, I totally see it.”

They both giggled.

And they talked for hours, the quiet of the library wrapping around them like a blanket, time slipping away unnoticed.

______

Levi was a remarkably strong soldier. As a captain, he faced countless problems — battles, losses, and burdens most couldn’t imagine.

From the very beginning, his life was marked by pain. He lost his mother when he was still a child, left to survive alone in the Underground. Malnourished and barely functioning, he had nothing. His uncle, Kenny, eventually found him — not out of affection, but to shape him into a fighter. Growing up in one of the most dangerous parts of the city hardened him. That harsh life made him strong — physically, mentally, and emotionally.

It was because of Erwin that he joined the Survey Corps. With his close friends Isabel and Farlan, Levi took a chance on something greater. But even that hope ended in heartbreak — he lost them on the battlefield not long after.

He was so young then. And as he grew older, the pain only deepened. Time after time, he lost comrades — people he trained with, laughed with, fought beside. The more he lost, the colder he became. It was never because he didn't care — quite the opposite. He cared too much.

Levi isn’t the expressive type. He doesn’t wear his heart on his sleeve. But for the people he loves… he carries their weight with him. Always.

A Slow, Rainy Morning

It had been two or three weeks since Petra last saw Levi.
They hadn’t talked. They hadn’t even crossed paths.
Still, she thought about him — occasionally, unexpectedly — and every time, her eyes would drift to the handkerchief he gave her. She kept it close, almost like a secret. She didn’t fully understand why, but she was emotionally attached to it.

---

The rain poured softly against the window that morning. Petra’s college was canceled due to the weather, and luckily, she also had the day off from work.

After a quiet breakfast, she went back to bed. With nothing to do, she buried herself under her blanket and lay there in silence.

“Ughhh... so boring,” she muttered, staring at the ceiling before dozing off again.

---

Phone buzzing...
Sasha calling

Petra picked up, her voice still sleepy.

Petra: “Hello?”

Sasha: “Hey, Pett babe! You bored?”

Petra: “Yeah, obviously. Super bored.”

Sasha: “Are you free this evening?” Sasha asked curiously.

Petra: sighing “Yeah, I’m free. Why?”

Sasha: “Okay, so listen — Connie officially got posted as a full military officer today! He’s calling everyone for a little celebration. You know, drinks, laughs, all that. You have to come!”

Petra: “Ohh? That’s nice…”

Sasha: “So you’re coming with us, right?”

Petra: “Me? Nahh, girl, I’m way too lazyyyy.”

Sasha: giggling “Come on! It’s gonna be so fun. Oh, and Olou will be there!”

Petra: “Girl, don’t bring his name up!”

Olou had a crush on Petra for ages, but she just didn’t feel the same. The idea of being around him always made her roll her eyes.

Sasha: “Pleaseee, girl. For me? I’m begging!”
She used her most dramatic cute voice, the one that always melted Petra’s resistance.

Petra: laughing “Fine, fine. What time?”

Sasha: “5 PM. I’ll pick you up from your place. Be ready, okay?”

Petra: “Okay, okay. Let me nap for a bit now, please?”

Sasha: “Byee! Love you!”

Petra: “Bye, Sash.”

---

She hung up and dropped her phone onto the bed, pulling the blanket up to her chin.
“Yeah... I really am bored,” she whispered, smiling faintly before drifting off for another nap, the rain still tapping gently at the windows.

---

It was almost 5 PM. Petra was ready for the function. She wore a blue skirt and a white top, paired with her sneakers. Standing outside, she waited for Sasha to arrive.

After five minutes, Sasha finally came—along with Nicolo and Jean.

Petra got into the car, and the group started chatting casually as they drove.

“Sasha,” Petra asked, “where exactly is the function taking place?”

“It’s at a military auditorium or something like that,” Sasha replied.

Nicolo, who was driving, added, “Yeah, I think we’re almost there.”

After a short while, they reached the venue. It was filled with military officers and young men who were soon to receive military positions. The atmosphere buzzed with excitement and formality.

Suddenly, they spotted someone familiar.

“Hey, Connie!” they called out.

“Hey guys! Thanks for coming,” Connie said with a bright smile.

“Congratulations, man!” they all said.

“Thanks, guys,” Connie replied warmly.

They chatted for a while, catching up. Then someone called Connie to the stage.

“Eat whatever you like and stay until it’s over,” he said quickly. “It’s already starting, so I’ve got to go.”

With that, Connie left to take his place on stage.

Meanwhile, Sasha had already made her way to the food section and was piling her plate with a ridiculous amount of food. People around her gave her strange looks, but she didn’t seem to care.

Petra found a seat and quietly sat down, her eyes fixed on the stage.

Suddenly, someone called her name. She turned—and her face shifted instantly.

It was Oluo.

“Hey Petra! How are you doing? Long time no see,” he said with a mischievous smile as he sat down in the chair next to her.

“Yeah, I’m fine. What about you?” Petra replied, awkward but polite.

“I’m fine. What are you doing now?”

“Studying arts,” Petra said shortly, trying to keep the conversation brief. “You?”

“I’m already working at a company. I’m an assistant manager there,” Oluo said proudly.

“Oh, congratulations, Oluo,” Petra replied, managing a small smile.

Then, as if on cue, he asked the question she heard from him every time they met.

“So… are you in a relationship now?”

“No,” Petra answered uncomfortably.

“Well, I could be your boyfriend if you want,” he said with a grin. “Think about it.”

“Haha, no, Oluo. You’ll find someone better,” Petra said with a nervous laugh.

She sat there awkwardly while Oluo kept asking more questions, completely unaware of how uncomfortable she was getting.

---

Levi's POV

Today’s the recruit ceremony for the new soldiers.
It’s boring. Long. Pointless.

But as someone high up in the military, I had to attend.
Total waste of time.

Hange was already off mingling, chatting away like she didn’t have a care in the world. Moblit sat next to me, nearly dozing off.

“Tch. It’s so boring,” I muttered under my breath.

“Huh? True...” Moblit mumbled, already halfway asleep in his chair.

They called us up to the stage. I sat next to Mike and Hange. Erwin, being the commander, was seated in front. The program started.

People filled the auditorium—some gathered around the food, some pretending to pay attention to the stage.

Same dull routine.

Then, something—or rather, someone—caught my eye.

Petra.

...Why is she here?

She was seated a few rows away, looking uncomfortable.
Next to her was a guy, sitting far too close. He kept talking, his posture leaning in just enough to annoy me.

She didn’t look at ease. Her smile was forced, her body language closed off.
But the guy didn’t seem to notice—or didn’t care.

I clenched my jaw.

I didn’t know who he was, but I already wanted to drag him away from her.

---

Author’s POV

Levi’s eyes were locked on Petra.

He hadn’t seen her in a while, and though a part of him felt unexpectedly calm seeing her again, it was ruined by the presence of the man beside her.

She looked tense. Her legs were crossed, her hands fiddling with the hem of her skirt. She wasn’t laughing, wasn’t relaxed. She was clearly uncomfortable.

And that guy? Still sitting beside her, far too close, talking like he owned the space around her.

Levi’s grip on the armrest tightened.

His gaze darkened. Cold. Sharp.

His entire posture screamed one thing—stay away from her.

---

Levi’s POV

I sat there for a long time, staring at her.
Petra.

She looked distracted—eyes cast to the side, avoiding the guy next to her. She kept fidgeting, clearly uncomfortable. She hadn’t noticed me yet. Good.

The recruits were called forward to take their pledge. A few people shifted in their seats. The crowd grew quiet.

Then Petra finally looked up.
Her gaze locked on the stage.

And for a moment—she froze.

Our eyes met.

Even across the room, I could tell she recognized me. She didn’t smile. She didn’t wave. Just… froze. Like she wasn’t expecting me to be here. Like she wasn’t sure how to react.

And honestly?
Same.

But what irritated me more than anything was that guy still sitting beside her.

Too close.

Still talking.

Still breathing.

If looks could kill, mine already would’ve buried him.

---

Petra’s POV

I didn’t know how much longer I could sit there. Olou was still next to me, rambling nonstop. Not moving an inch. Just… talking. About himself. About me. About how we’d “look good married someday.” Gross.

I tried to laugh politely a few times, but it was getting harder.

I was so uncomfortable I started staring at the stage, trying to block him out.
Then I saw him.

Levi.

My chest tightened.
I hadn’t seen him in so long. I didn’t even know he was here. But there he was—sitting with Hange, Mike, and Commander Erwin.

And then I noticed something else.

He was staring.
Directly at me.

At least I think he was… right? I mean, maybe I’m just imagining it. Maybe he’s looking past me. But his expression—

It was cold.
Sharp.
Dangerous.
Like he wanted to kill someone.

I gulped. My hands froze on my lap.

And just as I was trying to process that intense stare—

Olou had to ruin it.

He placed his hand over mine.

I instantly pulled it away. “Olou, the recruitment’s starting. You should pay attention.”

He just rolled his eyes and turned to the stage, completely missing the growing storm in Levi’s expression.

Levi's POV

I don’t know why I’m feeling this way.
Why am I this angry?
Is it because of that guy?
Maybe it’s just sympathy—she looked uncomfortable. That’s all. Nothing more.

Right?

But then he did it—he placed his hand over hers while she had them folded neatly in her lap.

That was it.

I could feel my jaw tighten.
She clearly didn’t like it. I could tell. Her body stiffened, her expression changed. So why the hell was he still doing it?

Then I saw her speak. I couldn't hear what she said, but whatever it was, he finally pulled his hand away and turned toward the stage.

Good.
Still... I hated how close he was sitting. Hated the smug look on his face.

---

Author's POV

Levi’s eyes narrowed. His whole demeanor shifted into something darker. His jaw was clenched, his fingers curled into fists. He stared at the guy beside Petra with a cold, unrelenting glare—as if he was calculating just how many ways he could break him.

“Levi,” Hange’s voice broke through his tunnel vision.

He blinked. “Huh? What?”

Hange giggled. “Why are you glaring at the guests like that? They’ll think the Captain himself wants to kill someone.”

“Tch. Like I care,” Levi muttered.

But the moment Hange turned her attention away again, his eyes flicked back toward Petra.

And him.

Still watching. Still burning holes through the guy with every glance.

Chapter Text

Author POV

The recruitment ceremony was over. Everyone had moved to the food and drinks section, laughing and celebrating. Sasha had already stuffed herself twice, and now she and the others had found Hange and the higher-ups. They all chit-chatted, raised glasses of wine, and for a moment, everything felt light.

Laughter echoed, plates clinked, and the night hummed with joy.

But Petra quietly slipped away.

She stepped out onto the balcony, letting the silence wash over her. It was a stark contrast to the noise inside. The cold breeze brushed against her skin as she looked up—at the moon glowing gently, and the stars scattered like little lanterns.

It reminded her of her father.

When he died, she would cry every night, desperate to see him again.
Her mother would hold her close and gently point to the stars.

"He’s there," she would say.
"Watching you. Always."

Tonight, it had been a long time since Petra had looked up like this. Really looked.

And tonight, she did.

The stars twinkled above her, distant and eternal. Her heart ached with a mix of longing and peace. If her parents were still here, maybe life would’ve been different. Maybe she would’ve been happier. Maybe she wouldn’t feel like she was a burden, or that she always got in the way.

Her eyes fixed on two stars, nestled side by side in the sky.

A small, bittersweet smile tugged at her lips.

“Mom… Dad…” she whispered, voice barely audible. “Are you still watching?”

The two stars shimmered a little brighter.

She liked to think they were.

A single tear slipped down Petra’s cheek.

She didn’t know why she stayed on the balcony for so long—but she couldn’t bring herself to leave. Her mind was full of memories: her parents’ laughter, the warmth of their embrace, the comfort of home. Things she hadn’t thought about in a while. Things she missed more than she realized.

More tears followed—soft, silent. She quickly pulled out a handkerchief and wiped her face, trying to compose herself.

But her chest ached.

She pressed the handkerchief close to her heart, holding it tightly like it could somehow hold everything together—her grief, her memories, her longing.

More tears fell, no matter how much she tried to stop them.

She sniffled quietly, still trying to regain her composure.

Then—

She heard footsteps.

Someone had stepped onto the balcony.

Startled, Petra wiped the last of her tears in a hurry. She didn’t want anyone to see her like this. She straightened up, drew in a shaky breath, and turned around, ready to head back inside—to return to the laughter and noise and pretend like nothing had happened.

But just as she turned—

She froze.

It was Levi.

Petra froze, unsure whether to slip back inside or stay where she was. Her breath caught in her throat. For a second, she just stood there, staring at him—at the man she hadn’t expected to see here, especially not like this.

Levi wasn’t looking at her at first. His eyes were turned toward the night sky, lost in the quiet stillness of the stars. The moonlight outlined his sharp features, and for a fleeting moment, he looked... peaceful.

But then—his gaze shifted.

Straight toward her.

His steel-grey eyes met hers.

And he saw it.

The tears.

The red rims of her amber eyes. The way she tried not to let her expression falter.

Something inside him tightened.

He didn’t say anything. Neither did she.

They just stood there, eyes locked in a wordless exchange—full of the things neither of them knew how to say.

Seconds passed. Maybe longer.

No one spoke.

Just the soft night breeze brushing against them. Just the sky, and the silence, and something hanging in the air that neither of them could name.

Petra wanted to say something.

Anything.

But she didn’t know what.

And Levi... didn’t know if he should.

Suddenly, Levi broke the silence.
“What are you doing here?” he asked, his voice cold and unreadable, his gaze sharp.

Petra startled slightly. “I-I just came to... watch the sky,” she stuttered, caught off guard.

He only hummed in response, low and quiet.

There was a pause before she spoke again, nervously.
“How... how are you doing, Captain?”

That made him glance at her, his expression briefly shifting with a flicker of curiosity. She had never asked him something like that before—not like this.

“Yeah. Fine,” he replied curtly. Then added, “You?”

“I’m good,” Petra said, forcing a smile as she looked at him.

For a moment, something in his expression softened.
But then, his voice dropped slightly. “Why were you crying?”

Petra hesitated. Her smile slowly faded.
“I was thinking... about my parents,” she said softly. “I miss them.”

Levi looked at her, saying nothing—but something in his eyes darkened. He knew that pain too well. Loss. Grief. Faces that would never return. Memories that clung like ghosts.
He stayed silent, a faint ache rising in his chest.

Another tear slipped down Petra’s cheek.

And then more followed, falling freely now. She didn’t bother to wipe them anymore.

Levi watched—frozen. Unsure. He wasn’t good with comfort, not with emotions. But the sight of her crying like this made something twist inside him.

Before he could think twice, his hand moved.
A light pat on her head—brief, almost clumsy. Then he turned and walked away without a word.

Petra stood still, stunned.

Levi had never done something like that before. That simple gesture—awkward, unexpected, but real—hit her harder than she expected.

She brought the handkerchief to her face again, trying to muffle the sound of her quiet sobs.

Alone on the balcony, under the stars that reminded her of her parents, Petra cried harder—not out of pain alone, but something else too. Something that felt oddly... warm.

---

After a few minutes, Petra went to the restroom to wash her face. Her eyes were red and puffy from crying, and she didn’t want anyone to see. She took a few deep breaths, splashed cold water over her cheeks, and composed herself before walking back into the hall.

Everyone was still laughing, drinking, and chatting. She joined them, smiling softly and engaging in small talk—but her eyes kept searching for someone.

Levi.

She didn’t see him anywhere. Not even a glimpse.

---

Petra's POV

After what happened on the balcony, I was left completely speechless.

Levi... he always acted like he hated me. Distant. Cold. I never expected that from him. That gentle touch on my head—it caught me off guard. I didn’t know what to make of it.

Now, he's gone. Just disappeared.

Anyway, it’s getting late, and the hostel’s closing soon. I only have fifteen minutes before the gates shut. Sasha, Jean, and Nicolo are too drunk to even walk straight. I tried to wake them up, but nothing worked.

Connie came over and said, “I’ll drop you, Petra.”

But I shook my head. “It’s okay. It’s your day, Connie. You should be here celebrating. I’ll find someone else.”

Then Hange-san stumbled over, clearly tipsy. “Ayyyy, I’ll take you back to the hostel myself!” she declared proudly, almost falling over.

Moblit, exhausted, tried to hold her up. “Hange, let’s go! You’re drunk!”

“Nooo, dummy!” she giggled, pulling away as they started bickering again.

Then, Olou stepped in front of me.

“I’ll drop you off,” he said, with that annoying smirk. “I’m heading that way anyway.”

I didn’t want to go with him. But I didn’t really have another option—until…

---

Author pov

Levi appeared.

“I’ll drop her,” he said firmly. No room for argument. He didn’t even wait for Petra to answer—just turned and walked toward his car.

Petra blinked, surprised. She turned to Olou quickly, “Sorry,” she said, and hurried after Levi.

Olou’s expression darkened. “Wait—Petra! Hey!” he called, clearly irritated. He tried to follow, but Petra was already inside the car.

Levi didn’t say anything. He simply started the engine and drove off.

---

Levi's POV

I don’t know why I patted her head earlier. I don’t even know what came over me on that balcony. I just… did it. Then walked away like a coward.

But later, I saw her again—this time trying to figure out how to get home while all her friends were passed out drunk. And that smug guy... he showed up again. Of course he did. Offering to take her home with that same creepy smile.

I couldn’t let that happen.

So I said it. I’d take her. No questions asked.

When she looked at me and smiled—I knew I did the right thing. Like I thought... she was clearly uncomfortable with him. She just didn’t say it.

The car was quiet.

Neither of us spoke. Just the sound of the tires on the road, the faint wind outside, and that silence sitting heavy between us.

I didn’t plan to talk. But something inside pushed me.

“Who’s that guy?” I asked, eyes still fixed on the road.

“Huh?” Petra looked over, surprised.

“The one who kept bothering you at the party.”

“Oh… him?” she said softly, her eyes lowering. “He’s someone from high school. He used to have a crush on me. I rejected him, but he still doesn’t get the hint. Keeps showing up. I really don’t know how to make him stop.”

I hummed. Tch. Pathetic guy.

There was a pause. Then she spoke again, quietly.

“Thank you, Captain… for helping me when I needed it the most.”

I didn’t look at her. “Tch. Try to be more independent. Be strong.”

She smiled a little, looking out the window. “I’ll try.”

I kept my face unreadable, my grip steady on the wheel. Still… hearing that made something inside me ease, just a bit.

A few minutes later, we pulled up in front of her hostel.

She unbuckled her seatbelt and opened the door. “Thank you for the ride,” she said, her voice gentle.

“Yeah. Fine,” I replied, as usual.

She stepped out and turned, waving at me. Her amber eyes met mine—quiet, warm, and unreadable.

I stared for a second longer than I should have.

Then I looked away, shifted gears, and drove off.

Didn’t know why I offered to drop her off.

Still don’t know why I care.

_____

It's been a month since everything changed.
Everyone's life was getting busier—each person lost in their own world, carrying their own burdens. The military was still deep into a reconnaissance mission within the country. Levi, Hange, and the rest were stationed at the battlefield.

It had already been a month since they had arrived.

Back home, Petra and Sasha were caught up in their college exams. Meanwhile, Rainy—still young and carefree—kept going about life in her own little way. Everyone had moved on, in their own time, with their own problems. Life went on.

It was a quiet evening, with a light drizzle falling outside. They were staying in a cabin assigned to the military. The recon mission was still underway, though they were granted short breaks.

During one such break, they all gathered for tea, discussing the next day’s mission plan. After the discussion, some headed out for their night shift.

Levi and Hange were on patrol duty. Gearing up with weapons and equipment, they moved through the quiet night.

Suddenly, Hange broke the silence.

“Leviii~?”

“Huh? What is it?”

“I wanna ask you something,” she said, in that curious tone of hers.

“What?” Levi asked, not hiding his irritation.

“Is something going on between you and Petra?”

Levi almost tripped over his own boots.

“What the actual fuck are you talking about? How many times do I have to say there’s nothing between us?”

“Come on, think practically, shitty eyes,” he continued, clearly annoyed. “I’m 33. She’s 21 That’s way too young for me. And I’m not into relationships.”

“Pfft. Age is just a number, boy,” Hange teased, grinning. “You like her, don’t you? That’s why you’re not outright denying it. She’s not a minor either, so you’ve got a chance.”

“Huh?! Have you lost your damn mind? I don’t see her that way.” Levi’s voice was firm, but his expression gave nothing away.

“Or do you?” Hange giggled. “I ship you guys, y'know? Strangers to lovers—my favorite trope.”

Levi rolled his eyes and looked away.

“Tch. Stop it, shitty bitch.”

“No, shorty~,” Hange teased back, laughing.

And so, the teasing continued between them as they walked into the misty night—guns in hand, hearts slightly lighter.

In the Hostel…

Petra was already curled up in bed, trying to fall asleep. The night was bitterly cold, and she hugged her blankets tightly around herself.

Still, she was happy—her exams were finally over. That meant a few days of well-earned holidays.

Beside her, Historia lay under the same blanket. They were sharing the bed because of the cold, though neither of them could fall asleep yet. It was still early, but the sky looked like it had already slipped past midnight.

Suddenly, their silence broke into soft chitchat.

"I'm so bored already," Petra whispered with a sigh. "How are we even gonna survive these few days of holidays?"

"Same, girl," Historia replied, rolling onto her side. "I wanna go home and see my parents and boyfriend… but my parents are out of the country."

"Ohh..." Petra murmured, her thoughts beginning to drift.

She thought about her own family. If her parents were around, she would’ve spent the holidays with them—happy, warm, safe. But then, out of nowhere, Levi's face flickered in her mind.

She didn’t know why… but it made her chest tighten. A quiet sadness settled over her.

Then Historia asked, "Do you have a boyfriend?"

"Me? Nooo, I’m purely single," Petra laughed, trying to brush it off.

"But I saw a guy dropping you off once… in a car," Historia said, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh, that? That was just… a friend," Petra replied quickly.
(Of course, it was Levi.)

She gave a small giggle.

"Oh really? I thought he was your boyfriend—the way he looked at you. And he's handsome too," Historia teased.

Petra laughed, turning her face into the pillow to hide the blush creeping up her cheeks.

“What about your boyfriend? What’s his name?” Petra asked, changing the subject.

“Hmm? Reiner. We met in high school. He already got a job—he’s working really hard these days. I really miss him,” Historia admitted softly.

“Awww, that’s so sweet!” Petra hugged her gently.
“I wanna hear your lovestruck story,” she said, nudging her playfully.

“Okay,” Historia smiled.

And so, the two girls lay in the dark, whispering about love, memories, and stories that made their hearts warm.

Eventually, their quiet giggles faded… and they drifted peacefully into sleep.

Petra had the day off. Most of her time lately had been spent between the hostel and work. Sasha was usually out of town, visiting her grandmother, so Petra often found herself spending her free moments with Historia.

It was one of those quiet, simple days they shared together when Historia suddenly said, “Petra, my boyfriend is coming to see me today! I’m really excited.”

“Ohhh? That’s so romantic,” Petra smiled. “I’m going to help you get ready for your date!”

They started digging through the wardrobe, laughing and tossing clothes around. Then Petra found a dress—a stunning one, delicate and elegant.

“This is the one,” Petra said, handing it to Historia with a grin.

She helped her with makeup, fixed her hair just right, and added some finishing touches.

“Girl, you look so pretty right now,” Petra said, admiring her friend. “He’s going to fall for you all over again.”

Historia blushed, smiled, and gave her a quick hug before heading out.

Petra stood by the window and watched.

Outside, her boyfriend was waiting with a bouquet in hand. When they saw each other, they smiled, hugged, and shared a sweet moment. It was something right out of a movie.

They were so cute together.

Petra smiled—but deep down, she felt a quiet loneliness creeping in.

Still, there wasn’t much time to dwell on it. Her shift was starting soon.

She got herself ready and began walking toward the store. As she walked, her mind drifted back to Historia and her boyfriend, and how happy they looked together.

Her phone buzzed.

A Snapchat notification—from Connie.

She opened it.

Snaps from their military base. People working, some goofing off, doing funny little things. Watching them made her laugh and smile at the same time. It was chaotic, but comforting.

Then she saw a short clip of Levi.

He was sparring with someone—quick, precise, relentless. He was betting someone, probably enemy i think and clearly winning.

Seeing him again—so strong, so composed—it stirred something in her. A quiet admiration. A memory. A feeling.

But before she could linger on it, she reached her store.

She reacted to all the snaps with laughing emojis and hearts, pocketed her phone, and stepped inside, ready to start her shift.

Her shift was finally over. Petra walked through the quiet streets on her way back to the hostel, the cool night breeze brushing against her face. The city lights flickered gently in puddles from the earlier rain.

Suddenly, her phone rang. Connie.

Unexpected. He rarely called.

She answered, surprised.
“Hey Connie, what’s up? A call from you is rare.”

“Hey,” Connie said, his voice a bit tense. “I’ve been trying to reach Sasha, but she’s not picking up.”

“Oh—she’s out of town, visiting her grandparents,” Petra replied. “I think she’ll be back next Sunday or something.”

“Ah, that makes sense,” Connie said, his voice relaxing. “How’ve you been, girl?”

“I’m alright,” she said. “Just heading back to the hostel after work.”

“How were your exams?” she asked.

“Pretty okay, I think. Could’ve gone worse,” he chuckled. “How’s your recon mission prep going?”

“Yeah... okay-okey,” Connie said, sounding distracted. “We’re just sitting here, having a cup of tea.”

Petra laughed. “You drinking tea? When did that start?”

“Captain made me,” Connie replied.

“Oh? Captain Levi, right?” she asked, unable to keep the little smile from her voice.

“Yup, him.”

Just hearing his name stirred something inside her. A tug at her heart. A flicker of something she couldn’t quite name. A longing, maybe.

She wanted to see him. She missed him. But she couldn’t.

“Alright then, Connie... I just reached the hostel,” Petra said gently. “I’m really tired.”

“Got it. See ya, Petra. Have a great night.”

“You too, Connie.”

They ended the call.

Petra stood still for a moment, the night quiet around her. Her thoughts were tangled, somewhere far from the street she stood on.

She looked down at her hand.

She was holding the handkerchief again—his handkerchief—tightly.

___

Levi pov

It was a quiet night.

The recon mission had dragged longer than expected. We were all worn down by the time we returned, muscles sore, minds running on fumes. But at least we were back in one piece.

Now, in the dim light of a temporary military cabin, the squad was spread out, eating dinner and sipping tea. The place smelled of damp earth, old wood, and steam.

Connie was off in the corner, talking on the phone. No idea who it was—probably being loud for no reason again.

Across from me, Hange was going on and on about her newest experiment.

Something about animal spinal fluids andv electrical currents.

"Surely going to fail," I muttered under my breath, more to myself than anyone else, as I raised my cup and took a slow sip of tea.

Erwin, unsurprisingly, hadn’t touched his food. Still buried in maps and reports, calculating gods-know-what.

The rest of the squad was half-sprawled on benches, laughing softly, exchanging stories from the field. There was peace in the room—the rare kind that comes after surviving something.

I leaned back slightly, letting the warmth of the tea settle.

Then Connie’s voice cut through the hum of conversation.

“Got it, Petra. Good night.”

I froze.

Petra.

It hit like a punch to the chest. Sudden. Sharp. Unwelcome.

Her name, said so casually—like it was nothing.

But it wasn’t nothing. Not to me.

I didn’t move. Just stared blankly ahead.

My grip on the cup tightened, knuckles going white for a second before I forced my hand to relax.

It had been a while since I last saw her. Too long. But hearing her name... it brought everything back in an instant.

The handkerchief. The look in her eyes the last time we spoke.

For a moment, everything else faded. Hange’s voice. The scraping of cutlery. The dull buzz of military routine.

Gone.

All that remained was her name, echoing in my head.

Petra.

I took another sip of tea—trying to ground myself, trying to focus.

But I had already drifted. Zoned out. Lost in pieces of moments that should’ve stayed buried.

And yet... there they were.

---

A few days passed. The recon mission had ended, and life slowly returned to its routine rhythm. Petra was back in college, juggling classes and her part-time job at the convenience store.

The evening was quiet. Around 6 PM, the store was empty. Petra sat behind the counter, scrolling through her phone absentmindedly, chin resting on her palm.

The door cracked open, the little bell above it jingling softly. She didn’t look up—probably just another customer grabbing snacks or a drink.

Footsteps moved through the aisles.

Still scrolling.

But then someone stepped up to the counter and placed a few items down.

Petra looked up to start billing—and smiled in surprise.

“Moblit-kun?”

“Heyyy, how are you, Petra? You’re working here?” he grinned, clearly surprised to see her too.

“I’m good. Yeah, just part-time,” she said warmly. “Where’s Hange-san?”

“In the car. Already dozing off, as usual,” Moblit said with a fond shake of his head.

“Can I come say hi?” Petra asked, already eager.

“Of course,” he smiled. “She’ll be happy to see you.”

After quickly finishing the billing, Petra stepped outside and headed toward the familiar vehicle parked nearby.

She knocked gently on the window.
“Hange-san?”

Hange startled awake, eyes darting around wildly. “Where am I?!”

“Relax,” Petra laughed. “It’s just me.”

“Petraaa!” Hange beamed, still half-asleep. “What are you doing here?”

“I work here now. Just part-time,” she said.

“Good to see you again,” Hange yawned. “Life’s so weird, huh?”

They chatted for a little while—just small things. How the squad was doing. College. Hange’s experiments (one of which, she admitted, did in fact explode).

Eventually, Moblit climbed back into the driver’s seat and started the engine. Hange waved lazily as the car pulled away.

Petra stood by the door, watching them drive off. She found herself searching the back window, just for a second—hoping.

But he wasn’t there.

No sign of Levi.

She looked down, then quickly turned her gaze away, forcing herself to smile again. Why had she even expected him?

She walked back into the store, but her thoughts stayed behind in that moment.

Why am I thinking about him?

He’s not my boyfriend. Not even really a friend. Just... someone I know.

And yet, here she was.

Still wondering if he’d be there.

Still feeling that tiny sting of disappointment when he wasn’t.

She sat back down at the counter, gaze distant, scrolling forgotten.

Chapter Text

Petra's POV

It was a quiet Sunday morning. Nothing to do.
Boring.

Historia left with her boyfriend today. She won’t be back today. If the warden finds out, she's gonna kill the two of us.
It was already closing time at the hostel, and I was just… there. Sitting in the room. Bored. Alone.

I picked up my phone and started scrolling, just for something—anything—to distract me.

Suddenly, I saw a new post from Hange-san.
It was their whole military squad together—even Captain Levi was in the photo. She tagged everyone in it.

I tapped through the tags, searching for Levi’s account.
Found it.

No profile picture. Barely any posts. Hardly any followers.
It looked like someone forced him to make the account.
Hange-san, obviously.

I don’t know why… but I suddenly felt this weird urge.
I wanted to see him.
Right now.

I paused, staring at my screen.

What do I do?
Should I ask Hange-san? Or maybe… somehow get his phone number?

No. That’s creepy.
Really creepy.

But still...

What should I dooo?

Ask Connie?
No. That’s definitely creepy. He’d make it a whole thing and never let me live it down.

Ughhh, what do I do?!

I don’t know… my heart feels like it's gonna burst if I don’t talk to someone about this.
Captain Levi—he’s seriously messing with my mind, and he probably doesn’t even know it.

I can't keep this to myself anymore. I need to tell someone.
Someone who won’t judge me.

Sasha.
Yes—Sasha.

She’s the only one who’d actually listen and not make it weird. She always gives weirdly good advice, even when she’s halfway through eating something.

Okay.
I should tell her.
Right now.

I grab my phone and start typing.

Hy Sasha, ru free?

She replied instantly:
Yup?

Can u call me?

A second later, my phone lit up with her name.
I picked up.

“What’s the matter, babe? Is something bothering you?”
Sasha’s voice came through the line—casual, soft, and… munching something, obviously.

I hesitated.
“Hmm... I want to say something. But promise me you won’t tease me, okay?”

“I’ll think about it,” she said between bites.

I sighed. “I don’t know why I feel like this. It’s weird. I don’t even like that person like that, but something about that person is just… messing with my head.”

“It’s Captain Levi, right?”

I froze.
“Huh? How did you know?!”

“I know everything,” she said dramatically. “Maybe I’m the ‘Potato Girl’ to some people, but I still know everything.”

I groaned. “I told you, it’s not like I like him or anything… it’s just…”

Sasha cut me off. “Just admit it, girl. You like him. It’s pretty obvious.”

“But I don’t even know how I really feel.,” I mumbled.

“Then first—try to understand your emotions,” she said, suddenly sounding wise. “Second—go to sleep. It’s getting late, and you’ve got early classes tomorrow.”

She didn’t wait for me to reply.

“I’m hanging up. Night, babe.”

Before I could say anything else, the call ended.
Classic Sasha.

She always left like that—laughing, munching, hugging me through the phone with her chaotic warmth.
Still, I felt a little better after talking to her. Like I'd unloaded something heavy.

I thought about her words again… and again…
And slowly, without realizing, I drifted off to sleep—still unsure, but just a little more at peace.

The Next Morning

After that night, the next morning arrived quickly. Petra had early classes, and despite still feeling a little dazed, she dragged herself to college.

The classroom was quiet, with the soft hum of the professor’s lecture filling the air. Petra sat at her desk, trying to focus, but her thoughts kept drifting back to the previous night.

Hours passed. Finally, the bell rang, signaling lunch break. Petra stepped out, stretching her arms, when she spotted Sasha already waiting with the others—grinning from ear to ear.

"Well, well, look who finally showed up," Sasha said with a playful glint in her eye. "Had a long night, huh?"

Petra rolled her eyes and walked past her. "Not in the mood, Sasha," she muttered, trying to suppress the heat rising to her cheeks.

Sasha laughed, clearly enjoying the tease. Petra ignored her, choosing instead to focus on her food and calm her racing thoughts.

The day went by quickly after that. Luckily, her last class got out early, giving her some quiet time to herself—a moment to finally breathe and think.

---

Petra walked slowly through the lively streets, her hands in her pockets, eyes taking in the view around her. Children laughed near vendors, street artists painted in quiet corners, the world buzzed on in soft motion.

She didn’t know why, but she felt happy today. Maybe it was the soft breeze brushing against her skin, or maybe… something in her chest just felt lighter.

But then, she froze.

Her eyes landed on a quaint little café tucked along the corner. And through the glass—just like that—she saw him.

Levi.

He sat by the window, sipping what looked like a cup of tea, dressed immaculately in his formal military uniform. He looked sharp. Too sharp. His face calm, his eyes as striking as ever, that familiar sense of control wrapped around him like armor.

But something pierced through Petra harder than anything.

He wasn’t alone.

A group of his squad members surrounded him, casually chatting. But it was her—the girl sitting nearest to him—that made Petra’s heart stutter. She leaned toward him just slightly, eyes sparkling as they exchanged words and she holded his hands.

And Levi… he smiled.

It wasn’t the rare smirk he wore out of duty. It was real—genuine, even warm. The way he looked at her, the way she looked back… Petra felt it.

> Petra’s POV:
I just stood there, staring.
That smile…
He was happy. I’ve never seen him like that. Never like that with me even with nobody
It’s obvious—she’s his girlfriend. She must be.
The way they looked at each other… like they belonged.
I smiled. Not because I was okay, but because I didn’t know what else to do.
Then I walked away. Fast. Without another glance.

She turned, head down, her breath shaky.

And as if the skies mirrored her emotions, rain began to fall. Not a drizzle—a downpour.

She hadn’t brought an umbrella.

Within seconds, her clothes were soaked through. Her white blouse clung tightly to her skin, revealing more than she wanted. She gasped softly and rushed toward the café’s side wall, under a narrow awning. It wasn’t much cover, but it was something.

She hugged her bag tightly against her chest, trying to hide herself, shivering.

She didn’t want to look back…
But her heart did.

> Maybe he saw me.
Maybe he didn’t.
Would he even care if he did?

Behind her, Levi was still inside—still warm, still smiling.

And she stood alone, in the cold, wet and aching.

But she didn’t move.
She couldn’t.

She just waited for the rain to stop.

Sheltered, But Not Safe

The rain was relentless now—sheets of water pouring from the sky, the wind lashing down the narrow streets. People scrambled for cover, huddling under shopfronts and rushing into cafes. The storm had turned wild.

Petra stood frozen under the narrow awning, soaked to the bone, shivering, her soaked white blouse now practically see-through. The wind whipped her hair around her face, and she didn’t know where to go. She could barely even think.

Suddenly, the café door behind her opened.

A kind-faced worker leaned out, looking directly at her.
“Miss, it’s not safe to stay out there. Please come in,” he urged over the sound of the rain.

She hesitated. Her heart screamed no, not here, not where he is. But her body gave in to the cold, the sting of the wind, and the feeling of being utterly exposed.

She stepped inside—without looking in his direction.

She didn’t dare.

She quietly took the nearest empty seat, just near the entrance. The rain pounded against the glass, fogging the windows slightly. She could see the backs of their heads from where she sat—Levi’s sharp shoulders, the girl beside him leaning closer again.

Petra looked away quickly, her chest tight.
She needed a distraction. Anything.

A server came over. She whispered, “Matcha tea, please,” then turned her gaze out the door, pretending the outside storm was all that held her attention.

Moments later, an elderly woman seated at the small table across from her gave her a soft smile. With gentle hands, she held out a clean shawl.
“Dear… here, take this,” she said kindly. “Your top… it’s quite sheer now.”

Petra’s eyes widened slightly. She quickly hugged her bag tighter, cheeks burning.
“Th-thank you so much,” she said, taking the shawl and wrapping it over her chest, trying to calm her embarrassment.

The woman smiled again. “Storm caught you off guard too?”

Petra nodded. “Yeah… something like that.”

The woman chuckled and began chatting gently about the weather, about how sudden these summer storms had become. Petra nodded, replied here and there. She smiled faintly. It was comforting… but her heart wasn’t in it.

Because even though her lips moved, even though she sipped her tea and listened to the old woman’s words…

Her heart ached.

Every few seconds, her eyes flickered toward the other table. Just a glance. Just enough to feel the familiar sting.

He hadn’t noticed her. Or if he had… he didn’t look.

And that somehow hurt more than anything

Petra’s POV

The wind calmed—just a little.

The storm outside no longer howled, but inside me… it hadn't stopped.

I couldn’t stay there anymore. My chest was heavy, my throat tight. I felt like I might break open if I sat another second in that chair.

So I quietly slid a few coins onto the table, nodded a silent thank-you to the kind granny who had lent me her shawl, and walked out the café door.

The rain greeted me immediately. Cold. Soft. Merciless.

I stepped just past the entrance and froze.

Something in the air shifted—eyes, whispers, silent judgment. I could feel it all over me.

I didn’t dare look up, but I knew… people were staring.
At me.

I glanced down.

My heart dropped.

The rain had soaked me completely—my white blouse clung to my skin, revealing everything. No amount of clutching my bag could hide it all.

I gripped the straps tighter, pressing the bag to my chest, trying to disappear.

> Don’t look back. Don’t check if he’s watching. It’ll hurt worse if he is. Or if he’s not.

So I did the only thing I could.

I ran.

Through puddles and wet sidewalks, through the cold biting at my skin.
I didn’t even know where I was going—I just wanted to be anywhere but there.

Tears blurred my vision, warm against my cold cheeks.

> Why am I crying?

> Why do I want him to come after me?

> He’s just someone who helped me once. That’s all. That’s all he is, right?

But the ache in my chest screamed louder than logic.

> I’m not in love with him… am I?
Then why does this feel like heartbreak?

I kept running until my legs couldn’t carry me anymore.
Until my lungs burned and my shoes slipped too much on the wet ground.

I stopped.

There was a small house with a low porch just ahead. I dragged myself under its narrow shelter and sank down against the wall, breathless, soaked, shaking.

My arms wrapped around my bag, pressing it to my chest like it could shield me—from the cold, from the stares, from the way my own feelings betrayed me.

The rain fell in front of me like a curtain.

I watched it.

And I cried quietly.

Because no matter how much I tried to lie to myself…
My heart knew.

Levi’s POV

The café was warm, quiet. The storm outside hadn’t touched us yet.

We sat as a squad—tea cups steaming, light laughter echoing between us. It was rare to see them this relaxed. No missions. No pressure. Just... peace.

Nifa sat beside me, chatting away about something dumb that had happened on patrol—something about eldn falling into a puddle again and trying to act like it was part of the plan. It made me smirk.amd she grabbed my hands and thanked me for helping in her mission.

I didn’t say much. I just listened. Watching them laugh, I felt something ease in my chest. It’d been a while since I saw my squad like this.
Happy. Alive.

But then... it started raining. Fast. Loud.

People outside scrambled for shelter, pressing against the windows, dripping wet. I barely looked.

Until I did.

And that’s when I saw her.

Petra.

Running through the rain—completely drenched. Her white blouse clung to her like a second skin, soaked through. Her chest was exposed, and she was hugging her bag tightly to her body, trying to cover herself, trying to hide—but she couldn’t.

Whispers started.

People noticed.

Some were murmuring, some staring, some with pity, others with... something worse in their eyes.

I sat frozen.

My fingers tightened around the tea cup.

She didn’t look at me. She didn’t look at anyone.

Her eyes were down. Her face unreadable. But she was clearly… hurt.

I opened my mouth. Wanted to say something—call out, move, do anything.

But she was already running.

Just like that.

Gone.

I stared at the rain where she disappeared. The warmth of the café now felt wrong—like it didn’t belong to me anymore.

Why did she look like that?

Why did she run like that?

Why the hell was my heart beating this fast?

Levi’s POV

The café moment had passed.

We were already on our way back to HQ.
The rain hadn’t let up—it tapped restlessly against the car windows, grey skies swallowing the city in a dull hush.

Nifa sat beside me. Eld and Gunther were talking in the back, something about the next deployment schedule, but I wasn’t really listening.

My eyes were fixed outside the window.

We passed the café street, slowly, tires brushing puddles.

> She’s not here.

I kept looking anyway. Down side alleys. Bus stops. Every porch we passed.

No Petra.

Not a single glimpse of that stubborn girl in the soaked white shirt, no hint of the trembling eyes I saw for just a second before she vanished.

My hand curled slightly at my knee.

> Why does this bother me?

> She’s probably home by now. She’s fine.

But I didn’t believe that.
Something about the way she ran... That wasn’t just embarrassment.

That was pain.

I kept staring out the rain-smeared glass. Still no trace of her.

And I felt—disappointed.

Stupid, right? I wasn’t supposed to be. I didn’t even know what I would’ve said if I had seen her. Maybe nothing.

But even so…

> I wanted to.
I wanted to catch up to her.
I wanted to ask why she looked like she was falling apart.

I sighed, leaned back in my seat. Rain blurred the city outside into streaks of grey.

“Captain?” Nifa asked softly beside me, noticing my silence.

“…It’s nothing,” I muttered.

But deep down, I knew it wasn’t.

Levi’s POV

The rain kept coming down in sheets—soaking the streets, swallowing headlights in a silvery haze.

We were almost past the residential line when I saw her.

Petra.

My heart clenched.

She stood under the narrow shelter of someone’s gate, soaked to the bone.
Her bag was clutched tightly to her chest, trying to hide how fully the rain had exposed her. She was shivering—barely able to stand upright.

I didn’t think.

“Nifa,” I said quietly.

“Yeah, Captain?”

“Switch to the backseat. Just for a few minutes.”

She blinked, confused, but nodded. “Yes, sir.”

I pulled the car over right in front of where Petra was.

Rolled the window down.

“Petra. Get in.”

She didn’t even look at me at first, like she was frozen. Only after a few seconds did she step forward hesitantly toward the passenger seat.

“It’s too dangerous. Come on.”

She opened the door slowly, still holding her bag across her chest.
Her voice was faint. “T-Thanks…”

She got in without meeting my eyes.

She sat uncomfortably, her shoulders trembling slightly. Still clinging that damn bag like it was armor.

I didn’t say a word—just took off my cloak and handed it to her.

“Cover it.”

“…Thank you,” she murmured, draping it over herself, eyes still cast down.

The ride was… silent.
Too silent.

The storm outside was calmer than the one sitting beside me.

After a while, I asked—quietly, but firmly.
“What the hell were you doing in that rain?”

She shifted. “College ended. I didn’t expect it to rain…”

Her voice was barely a whisper. Still no eye contact.

She looked small. Fragile. Not like the Petra I knew.
And for some reason—it hurt.

We pulled up to her hostel.

She started to take off my cloak, fumbling awkwardly. “H-Here, your cloak—”

I cut her off. “Keep it.”

Her hands froze.

“Next time we meet, return it then. Not now.”

I kept my voice neutral. Cold, almost. I didn’t trust it to sound soft.

She nodded once. “Thanks…”

Still didn’t look at me.

She stepped out, shoulders hunched, walked toward the door with her head down.

Didn’t look back.

And that’s when it hit me.

> That ache in my chest.

> That strange heaviness in my throat.

I didn’t like it.

But it didn’t go away.

Petra ran into her room and collapsed onto the bed, still dripping in her wet clothes. She buried her face in the pillow, sobbing uncontrollably.
She didn’t even know why—was it because of him? Or the way people stared at her like she didn’t belong?

The door burst open. Historia rushed in, breathless.
“Petra! Hey—why are you crying?”

Petra didn’t answer. She just kept sobbing, her hands shaking as they covered her face.

Why the hell am I crying? she thought. I don’t even know…

Minutes passed. The sobs began to ease, just a little. Petra finally looked up, eyes red and puffy. Historia sat beside her, brushing her fingers gently through Petra’s damp hair.

“What happened to my baby?” Historia asked softly. “Is someone bothering you?”

Petra shook her head. “No... it’s no one, really. It’s just... someone I barely know.”

She paused, swallowing a hard lump in her throat.

“It feels like I’ve lost them… even though they were never really mine. Just knowing that truth—it makes my chest hurt, Historia.”

Author’s POV:

Petra sat quietly, eyes red and tired, her clothes still clinging to her from the rain. She had just poured her heart out to Historia—everything that happened today. Everything about him. The weight of confusion and unspoken feelings pressed heavily on her chest.

---

Petra’s POV:

"Do you like him?" Historia asked softly, watching Petra closely.

"I-I don't know," Petra stuttered, avoiding her gaze. Her heart was pounding. The question was simple, but the answer wasn’t.

"Maybe you’re just misunderstanding it," Historia said gently, sitting beside her. "They’re his squad members—of course he’ll have a strong bond with them."

Petra nodded slowly, but the ache inside didn’t ease.

"Yes... but still, I don’t know why I felt like that," Petra whispered. "Like I was invisible. Or like something was slipping through my fingers."

Historia tilted her head. "Girl, first try to understand your feelings before jumping to any conclusions."

Petra let out a quiet hum, uncertain but thankful for her friend’s words.

"Now," Historia said, standing up with a soft smile, "go change out of those wet clothes first. Then we can talk more if you want. Just take the day off, okay?"

“Hmm…” Petra nodded and stood up, her steps slow but steady as she walked to change—her mind still tangled, but her heart just a little calmer.

Author's POV:

On the other hand, Levi sat in silence, lost in his thoughts. He didn’t know what to do—or even what he should feel.

Seeing Petra in that state earlier… it had stirred something in him. Something that made his chest tighten. She looked broken, and for a brief moment, it made him feel—sad.

But, as always, Levi brushed it off.

Emotions were distractions. That’s what he told himself.

Back at HQ, everything was running smoothly. The routines were steady, the halls quiet, the squad moving like clockwork. On the surface, nothing had changed.

But deep down, something had shifted—and Levi could feel it, even if he wouldn’t admit it.

Author's POV:

After a few days, life began to flow smoothly again.

Petra was back in her routine—college in the morning, job in the evening, and late nights at the hostel. She kept herself busy, almost too busy, as if motion alone could drown out the thoughts she didn’t want to face.

Every time Levi’s name crossed her mind—or his face flashed in memory—she brushed it off. Not now, she’d tell herself. Don’t think about him. Don’t feel anything.

So she smiled. She studied. She worked. And all the while, she carefully hid everything... every doubt, every emotion, every ache that didn’t quite have a name.

It was that time of the month.
For her, it was never just a “normal” period—it was war.
She had endometriosis. The pain came like a wave of knives, stabbing and twisting deep inside her. Heavy bleeding, unbearable cramps, cold sweats—her body betrayed her every month.

It was midnight.

The clock ticked 2 a.m. Petra lay curled up, tears streaming down her face as brutal cramps wracked her body. She hugged her pillow tightly—she couldn't walk, couldn't sit. Her whole body felt weak and broken. She had taken her medication, but it offered no relief. Only pain. Endless pain.

She cried again and again, her sobs muffled in the silence of the night.

Historia lay beside her, worried. Gently, she rubbed Petra’s lower abdomen, trying to ease the pain.

Then Petra froze.

A cold, wet sensation spread beneath her. Her eyes widened. She looked down—blood. It had soaked through everything. Panic took over.

With Historia’s help, she tried to sit up. Every movement was agony. Somehow, they made it to the bathroom. But just before reaching the door, Petra’s legs gave out. She collapsed, trembling violently, her cries turning into broken gasps. Her lips trembled, her face contorted with pain, and she couldn’t hold herself up anymore.

Historia panicked. She immediately called the warden.

Petra was rushed to the hospital, Historia by her side. Nurses wheeled her into the emergency room. All eyes turned toward the pale, shaking girl with bloodstained clothes. She was still bleeding, her legs numb, her skin ghost-white with a painful flush of red. Even after changing into a hospital gown, the bleeding wouldn’t stop.

She lay on the stretcher, tumbling in and out of awareness, her whole body convulsing from pain. Doctors connected her to an IV, pumped her with medication. Historia held her hand, trying to calm her, whispering soothing words she herself was barely holding together.

Suddenly, Petra’s grip tightened.

Footsteps. Voices.

She recognized the tone—it was Hange’s. But what made her heart seize with both hope and fear was the next voice:

“What happened to her?”

Levi.

That voice cut through everything.

He was here.

Tears welled again in Petra’s eyes—not just from the pain now, but from something deeper.

She was still trembling, still in agony, but now her heart beat faster.

Levi and Hange stood at the door, frozen. Watching.

And Petra… was barely holding on.

Levi’s POV

It was a rough night for all of us.

One of the squad members had a seizure during recon. We rushed him to the hospital. Hange and I waited outside the emergency room, pacing. The kid’s condition was stable now—not perfect, but not critical either. Nifa was with us too, quiet, keeping an eye on updates.

Just when I thought the night couldn't get worse, another stretcher rolled into the ER in a hurry. The commotion caught our attention.

And then I saw her.

Petra.

Laid on the stretcher, her hands gripping the sheets tightly, lips trembling, her face pale and soaked with sweat. She was crying—no, breaking. Her body shaking uncontrollably, blood staining her clothes despite the nurses’ efforts. She was hooked up to IVs, and still she looked like she was falling apart right in front of me.

My heart... it did something I don’t have words for.

Hange and I rushed over. I didn’t even realize how fast my feet had moved.

There was a girl beside her, holding her hand. She was just as pale, clearly frightened but trying to stay strong for Petra.

"Hey," Hange said gently, “What happened to her?”

The girl looked at us with puffy eyes. “Heavy cramps. Bleeding. She couldn’t even walk…”

“Does she have any underlying condition?” Hange asked, her tone already softer than usual.

The girl nodded. “Yeah… Endometriosis.”

Hange’s face dropped.

“Endo... what?” I asked quietly, almost to myself.

I didn’t know what it meant, but the look on Hange’s face told me enough—it was serious. Something painful. Chronic.

I kept my eyes on Petra. She was crying softly, her lips trembling, but she didn’t even seem aware that we were there. It felt like she was somewhere far away, locked in her pain.

And I couldn’t do a damn thing about it.

She looked so fragile in that moment, like she could vanish if we blinked.

I stood there—helpless

--

Author’s POV

The emergency room was chaotic that night—crowded with patients, overwhelmed with panic, filled with the sound of beeping monitors and hurried footsteps. Nurses moved quickly, doctors issued sharp instructions, and everything felt like it was moving too fast. In the middle of it all, Petra was curled up on a stretcher—crying, trembling, bleeding.

Then came a nurse, her voice urgent.
“She needs to go for tests immediately—but there are no stretchers left.”

A pause. The silence that followed felt heavier than all the noise around them.

And then—Levi stepped forward.

Without saying a word, he positioned himself in front of Petra and gently lifted her into his arms, carrying her bridal style. The IV line swayed as he moved, but Historia, calm under pressure, folded and adjusted it with care, keeping it steady.

Petra leaned into Levi’s chest instinctively, her hands shakily wrapping around his shoulders. She was still crying, still bleeding, but his presence was solid—anchoring. Safe.

They moved through the tests one by one—ultrasounds, scans, blood work. Hange and Historia stayed close, making sure everything was handled. Levi carried her through it all, never loosening his grip. He didn’t speak, but his silence said more than words could. Every time they paused between tests, someone would bring a wheelchair. She would sit, only briefly—but she always leaned into Levi the moment they stopped.

Her hand reached for him. Her body sought his.
And he never flinched.

Around 3:15 a.m., the tests were finally done. A wheelchair was brought again, and Petra was gently seated. But even then, her tired body leaned toward Levi. Her hand grasped his tightly. Her head brushed his shoulder.

He didn’t pull away.

She was then shifted to the room. The doctor advised she sit upright for a while before lying down. So she did—but she leaned again. This time, her head rested completely on Levi’s shoulder, her body limp with exhaustion, her breathing soft and slow.

And then, she fell asleep—still sitting beside him, her pain finally dulled by the medications, her body finally still.

No one dared wake her. No one said a word.

And Levi?

He didn’t care how it looked.
Didn’t care who saw.
Didn’t care what they thought.

His inner voice, the one he rarely listened to, had spoken clearly tonight:

Hold her. Stay with her. Don’t let go.

So he didn’t.

Author’s POV

After a while, Petra was gently laid down on the hospital bed. Her body, still fragile, moved with a kind of heaviness—as if the pain had drained every ounce of strength from her. The doctors administered proper medications, set up drips, and made sure emergency protocols were in place if the pain returned.

The warden stood in a quiet conversation with the doctor near the entrance of the ward, occasionally glancing over at the sleeping girl. Hange had already left—called back to check on the injured squad member. The night hadn’t spared anyone.

Historia sat beside Petra’s bed, arms folded on the edge, head resting there. At some point, sleep had taken her too. Her breathing was slow, rhythmic, exhaustion finally pulling her under.

But Levi—he hadn’t moved.

He sat exactly where he had been, just a few feet away from the bedside. Arms crossed, eyes focused. His expression unreadable to most, but his stillness spoke louder than concern—it was something deeper. Something protective. A kind of quiet promise.

The girl who had been trembling and sobbing in his arms only hours ago now lay peaceful, her face finally soft, her brows no longer furrowed in agony.

And Levi watched her.

Not because he was told to.
Not because anyone asked him to.
But because he couldn’t look away.

She looked so calm now. So quiet. As if the storm had passed, and all that remained was the fragile aftermath—her chest rising and falling gently, the IV softly ticking in the background, and a sense of stillness surrounding them.

He didn’t speak.
He didn’t sleep.
He just stayed.

Because sometimes, the strongest thing you can do…
is to be there when they need you most.
And Levi Ackerman was still there.

After a couple of hours passed, Levi had gone to HQ and returned. Petra was still sleeping—it was 6 a.m. by then. It had rained quietly in the early morning. Also Historia had gone to the hostel to freshen up and bring Petra’s clothes. Sasha was out of town at that time.

Levi stayed. No one asked him to. He just did.

A nurse came to him quietly.

Nurse:
"We have to do the ultrasound again. Can you bring her to the test room?"

Levi nodded, stood up, and went to call her—but she was still heavily under painkillers. Her body barely responded. So without a word, he gently lifted her and placed her in the wheelchair himself.

They wheeled through silent corridors to the ultrasound waiting room. It was quiet—early morning patients sitting, some whispering, some sleeping upright in chairs. A few nurses moved about. The air smelled of sanitizer and coffee.

Petra leaned into Levi’s arm even in her unconscious state. Her fingers held onto his coat like she was holding onto safety.

---

Author’s POV

The hospital waiting room was nearly deserted. The buzz of old lights above and the occasional muffled announcement were the only sounds. A heavy kind of silence hung there—one born not just from early morning stillness but from the weight of unspoken fear.

Levi sat still, his expression unreadable, shoulders slightly hunched forward. Petra was curled into him, her head resting against his arm, unconscious from the lingering haze of painkillers. She looked too fragile for his liking. Her breathing was shallow, skin pale.

He hated this place. He hated how cold everything felt—how the walls smelled like antiseptic and stale coffee, how the waiting always stretched longer than time should allow. But more than that, he hated that there was nothing he could do to fix it.

Levi stood, slipping his arms around her and lifting her as if she weighed nothing. She stirred slightly in his hold, but didn’t wake. He adjusted her against his chest, eyes cool and focused.

“No wheelchairs allowed inside,” the nurse said gently. “You’ll have to carry her.”

“I know,” Levi replied.

Levi didn’t turn. He just walked, carrying Petra down the long corridor—silent, steady, and sure, even if the storm inside him never stopped.

---

Author’s POV

The hospital room door creaked open again just as Levi laid Petra gently onto the bed. Historia had returned, her arms full of bags—clothes, toiletries, and other essentials hastily packed. She looked exhausted but determined, the kind of determination only a close friend carries when someone they love is hurting.

“Oh, thank you, sir,” she said breathlessly, setting the bags down on a chair. “She needs to change. Can you please wait outside for a minute?”

Levi nodded without a word, stepping back. One last glance at Petra before he exited. She was still asleep—or so he thought.

As the door clicked shut, Petra stirred. Her eyelids fluttered open, disoriented and slow. The hospital’s dim light blurred in her vision for a second, but then she caught sight of the familiar silhouette beside her.

“Historia...?”

“Hey,” Historia whispered gently, rushing to her. “You’re awake. Thank God.”

Petra gave a weak, tired smile.

“How long was I out...?”

“A while. Levi just brought you back from the scan. You were totally out.” Historia reached for the bag and helped her sit up slowly. “Come on. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

Petra leaned on her as she guided her carefully to the small bathroom. Her legs were shaky, her breath shallow, but somehow, just being out of the hospital bed and into fresh clothes made her feel less… broken. She washed her face, changed into a clean top and loose pants, tied her hair up messily—feeling somewhat human again.

By the time she stepped out and sat gently back on the bed, Levi had returned. He stood silently by the doorway, his posture straight, eyes unreadable as always.

But when his gaze fell on her—awake, moving, fragile but alive—something in his chest tightened.

Her eyes met his.

And without warning, they welled with tears.

“Thank you, sir,” Petra whispered, her voice barely holding itself up. “For the help…”

Levi looked away for a second.

“Tch,” he muttered. “Okay ".

His voice was cold, dry as ever—but it didn’t hide the way his shoulders eased, or how he looked at her just a second longer than necessary. Inside, something like relief flickered behind those tired eyes.

Petra nodded slightly, her lips trembling. “Still… thank you.”

Levi didn’t reply, just moved toward the chair beside the bed and set something down.

“I’ll be outside. Call me if you need anything.”

She hummed quietly in response, too weak to say much more.

But then, he turned back, reaching out a hand.

“Your phone.”

She blinked. “Huh?”

“Phone,” he repeated, already reaching for it on the side table. Without asking, he opened the contacts and typed in his number.

“If anything happens—call me,” he said, tone stern but low. “I’ll be around. One of my squad is admitted too.”

Petra looked at the screen, then at him. Her throat tightened.

“Okay.”

Levi didn’t linger. With a nod, he turned on his heel and left, letting the door shut quietly behind him.

Outside, he exhaled slowly, pressing his back to the cold wall of the hallway.

---

---

Author POV

The door clicked softly shut as Levi walked out, leaving a stillness behind him. The hum of the ceiling fan and the occasional beep of Petra’s monitor filled the silence. Petra lay on her side, her fingers lightly brushing the blanket, her thoughts loud in the quiet.

Historia sat beside her, adjusting her chair closer to the bed. Her gaze lingered on Petra’s tired eyes, but there was something thoughtful in the way she looked at her — as if she knew something Petra didn’t.

A few moments passed before Historia spoke, her voice soft and hesitant.

Historia (gently):
“Hey… I know he looks like stone on the outside, but… last night, he wasn’t.”

Petra blinked, confused.
Petra:
“What do you mean?”

Historia (smiling a little):
“He carried you around like you were glass. Didn’t let anyone else touch you. I told him I could help, but he just shook his head. He didn’t even flinch once. Carried you all night — even when you were asleep in his arms.”

Petra (surprised, whispering):
“…He did that?”

Historia (nodding):
“Yeah. He acted cold in front of everyone, but I saw it. The way he looked at you when you were in pain. Like something inside him cracked. He cares, Petra. He just doesn’t know how to show it.”

Author POV

Petra’s throat tightened. She turned her face into the pillow slightly, blinking away tears. Her voice came out softer now.

Petra:
“But… we’re not close. We barely even talk. I’m not in his squad, I’m not a soldier… I’m just some girl he met by accident at the hospital.”

Historia:
“Maybe that’s why it matters more. You're not someone he’s expected to protect. You’re not part of the uniformed world he’s used to. And still, look at what he’s doing.”

Petra (confused):
“But why? Why me?”

Historia (soft laugh):
“That’s what love feels like sometimes. Confusing, quiet… and it sneaks up on you. You don’t need a reason.”

Petra (whispering):
“I don’t know if it’s love… but there’s something. I don’t understand it, but… it’s there. Every time he’s around, I feel like I’m safe. Like I’m not alone anymore.”

Historia (smiling gently):
“Maybe he feels the same but doesn’t know how to say it. Or maybe he’s scared.”

Petra:
“I’m scared too. I feel like I barely know himm..but somtiems it. It felt like
Something different idk how to explain that ”

Author POV

Historia reached out, gently taking Petra’s hand in hers. She could see the storm behind her calm face — the mix of confusion, warmth, and vulnerability.

Historia (softly):
“You don’t need to have all the answers right now. Just don’t shut yourself off. Sometimes the right person comes into your life through pain. Not to save you… but to stay.”

Petra (eyes brimming):
“You think it’s okay to let myself feel this?”

Historia (nodding):
“I think it’s brave to even admit it. He may not say it, but the way he stayed by your side, the way he looked at you like the world would break without you — that wasn’t nothing.”

Author POV

Petra’s lips trembled, and suddenly, the tears broke through. She reached forward, unsure, and Historia pulled her into a gentle hug. Petra clung to her, quiet sobs escaping her chest.

Petra (muffled, through tears):
“Why does it hurt and feel good at the same time?”

Historia (whispering):
“Because you care. And deep down, maybe… he does too.”

Author POV

They stayed like that — two girls in a quiet hospital room, hearts heavy with emotion and unsure feelings. Outside, life continued, but in that moment, something inside Petra shifted. She wasn’t alone in her confusion anymore. She wasn’t crazy for feeling this.

She was just… human. And maybe, just maybe, someone else was feeling the same thing from behind a cold, unreadable gaze.

---

Author POV

After spending time at the hospital, Levi finally returned to HQ. Hange hadn’t gone to check on Petra — Moblit was sick, and she was staying with him to take care of him. Levi found them both in a small, cluttered room where the three of them could relax for a bit.

---

Levi pushed the door open and stepped inside.

Hange looked up immediately, her eyes brightening as she spotted him.

Hange:
“Heyyy, Leviiii! How was Petra?”

Levi:
“She’s good, for now. Still a little weak, but holding up.”

Hange (grinning):
“Okay, so finally you confessed!”

Levi’s gaze sharpened, his eyes narrowing into a glare.

Levi:
“Confessed what?”

Hange (teasing):
“You know… yesterday. It was like watching a romance movie unfold.”

Levi (deadpan):
“Tch, I’m gonna beat the shit out of you if you say that again.”

Hange (laughing, cleaning her glasses):
“Again?”

Levi (mock serious):
“I don’t care.”

Hange (dramatic):
“Well then, I’m giving you the cleaning duty of HQ.”

Levi:
“Yeah, I’d need that,” he said, sounding almost theatrical.

---

Levi then glanced at Moblit, who looked pale and uncomfortable.

Levi:
“How are you, Moblit? Holding up with her?”

Moblit (groaning):
“Idk… hope to die.”

Hange and Levi exchanged a look and silently laughed. The three fell into easy conversation, the banter light and comforting.

---

Author POV

They chatted and joked until the day slowly drifted away,
---

The next day

Levi arrived at the hospital early, dressed sharply in his Survey Corps uniform. After this, he would head straight to field. He’d only come because Petra had called earlier, saying they were being discharged and that Sasha had arrived too.

Petra stood near the billing counter, phone in hand, nervously looking at the amount on the screen. Even though she'd been admitted for days, her hostel hadn’t helped cover a single rupee. She bit her lip, heart sinking a little. She quietly began transferring what little money she had—but before she could complete it, she was notified the bill was already cleared.

She looked up, eyes widening in confusion—then they immediately welled with emotion when she spotted him. Levi. He stood a few steps away, not saying anything, arms crossed, gaze fixed somewhere distant.

She walked beside him, silently, her eyes still filled with unshed tears.

“Thank you, Captain Levi,” she murmured softly, her voice shaky but sincere.

“You don’t have to do that,” Levi replied, barely glancing at her.

She just stared at him for a second, a quiet smile blooming on her face. “Okay…”

By then, Historia had already gotten into Levi’s car. Sasha, who had just returned from out of town, was catching up with Nicolo nearby.

She sat in the passenger seat, they drove off stealing glances at him now and then. They soon reached her hostel.

Petra turned to him before getting out, her heart strangely heavy.

“Thank you, Captain Levi. I will never forget your kindness… I’m truly grateful.”

He gave her a brief nod, hand still on the gear.

Petra hesitated, then blushed a little. “I’ll… call you later. If you’re free.”

Levi simply nodded again. He didn’t understand why she was blushing—but he noticed it.

She stepped out and waved shyly. Levi didn’t respond but watched through the mirror until she entered the hostel gate.

Author’s POV:

Levi didn’t say much, as usual. But something about the way he looked at her after she left, even for a second—there was softness in his otherwise unreadable eyes.

He didn’t understand what this strange bond between them was… but it existed now.

And it was real.

---

Author's POV:

It had been a week since Petra got discharged from the hospital. Life slowly drifted back into a routine. Her body felt better. The days weren’t as heavy. Historia always her side , Sasha called, and the quiet corners of her hostel room didn’t feel as suffocating anymore. But amidst all the noise and movement, there was something missing—or rather, someone.

Levi.

They hadn’t spoken properly since that short moment at the hostel gate. A small, awkward exchange before he left for work. Since then, silence filled the space between them—except for the rare texts she sent.

He replied, always. But never in a way that made her feel seen.

Still, every night—almost instinctively—she found herself reaching for her phone. Tonight was no different. She wanted to ask how he was, even if she knew the reply would be a handful of words. There was something comforting about even that.

But she couldn’t lie to herself: it felt like texting a stranger now.

---

Petra:
Hey. Hope work wasn’t too crazy today.

She stared at the screen. Waiting. Wondering if he’d ignore it this time. But a reply came after a minute.

---

Levi:
It was fine.

Just two words. Petra sighed. It always ended like this. But still, she tried again.

---

Petra:
That’s good… Are you back at HQ or still outside?

---

Levi:
HQ.

No emojis. No warmth. Just flat answers. It wasn’t that she expected him to be overly expressive—this was Levi, after all. But the distance in his texts stung in a way she didn’t expect. Especially after everything.

She hesitated. Her thumbs hovered over the keyboard. She had so many things she wanted to say—about that night, about the hospital, about how he carried her when no one else did. But nothing came out. Just something safe.

---

Petra:
That room feels quiet now lol. Historia doesn’t snore as loud as Sasha

She added the “lol” at the end hoping it would lighten the mood. Maybe even make him say something more. But instead—

---

Levi:
Good for you.

Petra blinked at the screen. That reply made her laugh, but not the happy kind. More like a little “what am I even doing?” kind of laugh.

There was a pause. She wanted to end the conversation gracefully. Something told her she was the only one trying to keep it alive.

---

Petra:
Haha yeah. Anyway… I’ll let you rest. Night.

---

Levi:
Night.

---

And just like that, it was over.

She placed the phone beside her, eyes lingering on the screen for a few more seconds. She tried not to overthink. Maybe he was tired. Maybe he wasn’t good at texting. Maybe he didn’t want to talk. Or maybe… it was her. Maybe she was just someone he helped once, out of duty. Nothing more.

But she couldn’t forget how tightly he held her that night, how he stayed without anyone asking, how he paid her bill quietly, how he never once made her feel like a burden.

And now, even those memories felt blurry behind the awkwardness of a few dry texts.

Author's Thought:

Sometimes, silence doesn’t mean indifference. And sometimes, words fail the ones who feel the most. But Petra, sitting alone in her hostel bed, couldn’t help but feel like they were drifting apart—text by text, reply by reply.

Even though they were still connected by a chat thread, it felt like their hearts were slowly slipping back into the space between strangers.

Chapter Text

Author's POV:

The night had settled into a calm silence at the hostel. The faint buzzing of crickets and distant honks echoed outside Petra’s window. She sat on the edge of her bed, phone in hand, blanket loosely draped around her shoulders. Historia, lying next to her with a face mask on, peeked through one eye.

“Just text him already,” Historia nudged her with a grin, “you’ve been staring at your screen for fifteen minutes.”

Petra hesitated. “I don’t even know what to say.”

“Say hi, say thank you, say you’re alive—anything,” Historia said, dragging the blanket over them both. “You miss him.”

With a sigh and cheeks faintly pink, Petra typed.

---

Chat Conversation:

Petra 🐾

> hey... are you back yet?

Levi

> yeah

Petra 🐾

> oh... okay.
hope work wasn’t too tiring.

Levi

> it’s fine

Petra 🐾

> okay...
just wanted to check in.

Levi

> mm

Petra 🐾

> um... sleep well, then. goodnight.

Levi

> night

---

Author’s POV:

Petra locked her screen slowly, staring at the last message. Just four letters. She told herself it was better than nothing. Next to her, Historia peeked again.

“That bad, huh?” she said gently.

Petra gave a tiny smile, hiding the sting in her chest. “I don’t think he wants to talk.”

Historia didn’t say anything—just pulled Petra into a side hug and whispered, “Maybe he just doesn’t know how to.”

Petra didn’t reply. But as she lay down, she left the chat window open, the screen dimming into darkness.

The night felt heavier than usual, the kind that curled around your chest when you overthink everything. Petra lay half-tucked under her blanket, clutching her phone like it was the last bit of bravery she had. Historia was sprawled next to her, playing with her hair and glancing occasionally at Petra’s dimmed screen.

“He’s probably asleep,” Petra mumbled, more to convince herself than Historia.

Historia rolled onto her side, grinning like a fox. “Just text him again.”

“What? I already did,” Petra groaned, showing her the “night” message. “And I said goodnight. That’s… final. There’s literally nothing more to say.”

Historia snorted. “That was barely a conversation, Petra.”

“I can’t force a dead chat to come alive,” she whispered, thumb hovering over the screen.

“Girl, just text him again,” Historia said, sing-songing the words with a giggle. “A little bit more. Tiny bait. Something casual.”

“But…”

“No buts,” Historia smirked, nudging her shoulder. “Go. Flirt. Or at least, act human.”

Petra narrowed her eyes, heart jittering in her chest as she unlocked the screen again.

---

[Chat between Petra and Levi]

Petra:
Hyyy cap 😅

Levi:
Huh?

Petra:
I amm… I– how are u rn?
(Her fingers paused a bit before hitting send, unsure if she should even be texting him.)

Levi:
Huh? good.

Petra:
How ur military work going?
(She added a thinking emoji but deleted it. Tried not to overdo it.)

Levi:
Fine. ntg new.

Petra:
Ahm
(A long pause before she added one last thing.)
Okeyyy

Levi:
Nyt.

Seen 11:07 PM.

Levi goes offline.

---

[With Historia moments later]

Petra let out a sigh, tossing her phone beside her on the bed.
“He went offline,” she said flatly, staring at the screen.

Historia, sitting beside her, leaned over and read the last few messages. “Damn… he’s dry as fuck,” she muttered, raising an eyebrow. “Like, Sahara desert dry.”

Petra blinked slowly. “It’s obvious he was annoyed by me,” she whispered, trying to act like it didn’t sting—but it did. “I shouldn’t have texted him.”

Historia didn’t respond immediately. Instead, she wrapped an arm around Petra’s shoulder and muttered, “You didn’t do anything wrong. He’s just emotionally constipated.”

---

---

Petra: "But still… it feels like I forced him to talk."
Her voice is barely above a whisper, laced with guilt.
She shuts off the screen and lets it drop beside her.

Historia, curled up beside her, instantly responds,
"Hey… we can try that tomorrow. Don’t worry, baby, I got you."
She taps Petra’s shoulder playfully, her tone both light and reassuring.

"You know," Historia continued with a little grin, "I used to be like this with Reiner. Dry texts. Cold stares. But I swear he watched me fall in love with him without even lifting a damn finger."
She laughed at the memory, shaking her head.

"I’m a professional at this point. I’ll help you figure a way out. Trust me."

Petra blinked fast, clearly flustered.
"I don’t love him, Historia," she said quickly, almost too quickly. Her voice cracked slightly. "I… I don’t—" she stuttered, cheeks warming.

Historia tilted her head, watching her closely.
"Huh? You don’t?" she teased, letting out a giggle.
Without waiting, she pulled Petra into a hug, holding her tight.

"Okay then," she whispered into her hair, smirking.
But as she rested her chin on her shoulders,her smile widened knowingly
She didn't need to say it loud

She know Petra liked him

That night, Petra texted him again.she heard from Connie that they were moving east of the country hq

Petra:
Hyyy... how’s your work going?

Levi:
Going.

Petra:
As usual?

Levi:
Yeah.

She hesitated before typing again.

Petra:
I heard HQ’s moving to the eastern region?

Levi:
Yup. It is.

Petra:
Ohh? When are you guys going?

Levi:
Soon. This week.

The knot in her stomach tightened slightly.

Petra:
Okey... when are you gonna come back?

Levi:
Dk. Maybe weekends.

Petra:
Okey. Night.

She waited.

Nothing.

No reply.

He left her on read.

Petra stared at the screen a little longer before locking her phone and setting it down beside her pillow. The quiet of the room pressed in around her.

She sighed softly and turned on her side, eyes wide open in the dim glow of the night lamp.

Last time… she thought, in the hospital… he acted like someone close.
He had stayed by her bed. Waited. Watched over her. His presence had felt... safe. Real. Like maybe—just maybe—there was something unspoken between them.

But now, here in the quiet, all she had was a read message and a blank screen.

Maybe he’s just not a texting person, she told herself, trying to brush away the ache in her chest.
But it didn’t really help.

Because even if Levi wasn’t the type to text…
He still felt further away than ever.

---
Days went by, and every night Petra found herself texting—only to be met with dry replies.
But she wasn’t too hurt. Deep down, she knew he was always like this.

Levi was a calm, reserved figure—someone who led not with warmth, but with unshakable strength. He rarely showed emotion, always choosing logic over feelings. That’s just who he was.

Yet somehow, even with all his detachment, Petra believed he cared.
Even for her.
Even though they met by chance.

---

It was one of those quiet days—no classes, no assignments. The dorms were unusually still. Most of them, including Petra, had slept in until almost 8 a.m.

She stirred awake when the soft morning sunlight slipped through the curtains, gently warming her face. Yawning, she reached for her phone and saw a missed call from Sasha Smiling sleepily, she called back. They chatted a bit—nothing important, just soft morning talk—before hanging up.

Petra got out of bed and freshened up. The halls were still half-asleep as she made her way to the canteen. She picked up breakfast for herself and for Historia, balancing the trays carefully as she returned to the dorm.

By the time she sat down and started eating, Historia finally stirred awake.

---

---

It was one of those lazy off-days. No classes, no deadlines. Just peace.
I had barely managed to get myself out of bed and into something that didn’t look like sleepwear when Historia barged into the room, all energized.

"Let’s go shopping today!" she said, like she’d been waiting all morning to say it.
I groaned, flopping back onto the bed. "I just woke up, Histo… I'm not made for this much ambition."
She laughed, tossing a hoodie at me.

"You need fresh air. And new jeans. Also, Reiner’s coming with us."

I raised an eyebrow. "Reiner?"
"Yeah," she said with a smirk. "Don’t act like you two don’t have your little bestie moments now."

She wasn’t wrong. Somehow, Reiner and I had ended up forming this unexpected but easy friendship—mostly thanks to Historia being the social glue between us.

So I finally got up, threw on some decent clothes, and we made our way to the bus stop. A minute later, Reiner pulled up in his old, slightly dented car.

"Get in, slackers," he said, leaning out the window with a grin.
"You’re lucky I’m even awake," petra muttered, sliding into the back seat.
"She’s been dramatic all morning," Historia added, hopping into the front.

"Can’t wait," Reiner chuckled, pulling back onto the road.

And just like that, our lazy morning turned into something a little more alive.

Setting:
Reiner is driving. Historia is in the front seat. Petra is in the back seat, trying to stay invisible. They’re on their way to the mall.

---

Reiner:
“So Petra. You still texting Mr. Ice Cube?”

Petra: (deadpan)
“His name is Levi. And no, I’m not texting him.”

Historia:
“Oh, right. You’re just casually replying to his one-word texts with three emojis and a ‘lmao’ every time.”

Petra:
“That’s called being polite!”

Reiner:
“Polite? He texted ‘k’ and you replied with ‘hahaha you’re so funny 🤣😭💀.’ Petra. Be serious.”

Petra: (sinks into seat)
“I didn’t use the skull emoji... that was a typo.”

Historia:
“Sure. And the time he said ‘okay’ and you said ‘LOL STOPPP you’re hilarious’?”

Reiner:
“Guy has less expression than a stone wall. How is he funny, Petra? HOW.”

Petra:
“He’s just… concise. Like… a minimalist poet.”

Reiner:
“Minimalist poet? The man sent a full-stop as a reply once!”

Historia:
“Omg remember when you asked him if he liked spicy food and he just replied ‘edible.’”

Petra: (giggling despite herself)
“It was mysterious…”

Reiner:
“No Petra. That’s not mysterious. That’s ‘I-don’t-care-but-here’s-a-word-so-you-leave-me-alone’ energy.”

Historia:
“And you saved his contact as ‘Captain Grump’ right?”

Petra: (horrified)
“WHO TOLD YOU THAT?!”

Reiner:
“Wait WHAT?! You named him Captain Grump?! Hahaha!”

Petra:
“Okay fine! But that’s just because he never uses emojis! Not even a ‘:)’”

Historia:
“Oh right, you’re waiting for the day he sends ‘:)’ so you can frame it and hang it in your room?”

Petra:
“SHUT UP.”

Reiner:
“He literally saved your life once, gave you water, and disappeared like Batman. And you’ve been crushing ever since.”

Petra:
“No I haven’t! He just—he was… helpful. And—sternly compassionate.”

Historia:
“Sternly compassionate”? What is this, a Jane Austen novel? Petra. Be so for real right now.

Reiner:
“I bet if he proposed, he’d just hand you a ring and say ‘Affirmative.’”

Historia:
“And you’d be crying saying, ‘Oh my god, he’s so romantic 😭💍’”

Petra:
“I hate both of you.”

Reiner:
“No, you just love Captain Cold Brew.”

Historia:
“Captain Dry Texts.”

Reiner:
“Lieutenant Left-On-Read.”

Petra:
“Guys I swear if you say one more—”

Historia:
“The Silent Savior.”

Reiner:
“The Emoji Extinct Species.”

Petra: (laughing despite herself)
“Okay STOP! I get it! He’s… a little cold. But he’s nice in his own way.”

Historia:
“So you admit you like him?”

Petra: (instantly defensive)
“I didn’t say that! I just—appreciate the effort he sometimes puts into replying with more than one syllable.”

Reiner:
“So if he ever sends ‘Good morning’ you’d probably faint?”

Petra:
“If he sends a GIF I’m calling 911 because something’s wrong.”

Historia:
“What if he sends a heart emoji?”

Petra: (blushing)
“That would be… a national emergency. I’d need therapy.”

Reiner:
“Petra. You already need therapy.”

Historia:
“Exactly. For delusional Levi-crush syndrome. It’s spreading fast.”

Petra:
“I hate you both. I hope you both get ignored by your crushes forever.”

Reiner:
“Joke’s on you. My crush sends me full paragraphs.”

Historia:
“Mine sends voice notes. Levi would probably send Morse code.”

Petra:
“At least he’d put effort into it…”

Historia:
“Oh my GOD SHE’S SO GONE.”

---

[Ten minutes later]

Reiner:
“Hey Petra, what would Levi do if you sent him a selfie?”

Petra:
“He’d probably reply ‘noted.’”

Historia:
“And you’d take that as a compliment.”

Petra;(smiling)
Yeah.. .
.

---

The trio finally arrived at the small shopping center near the dorm. Reiner, Historia, and Petra split up to grab essentials — toothpaste, snacks, a few instant noodles (because college life), and of course, a mountain of chips and sweets to satisfy their midnight cravings.

Petra, balancing a surprisingly heavy bag, joked, “If I gain five kilos this semester, it’s all on you two. Snacks are basically a survival kit.”

Reiner just gave a tired smile, “You’ll regret that after the first exam.”

Historia, already holding a giant pack of gummy bears, winked, “No regrets, only sugar highs.”

After loading their haul into the car, they headed to a nearby cozy restaurant to refuel properly. The food arrived quickly, and for a while, the trio enjoyed good food and even better company.

Back at the dorm, the rain had picked up, a rhythmic drumming against the windows filling the space with a soothing hum. The sky was a soft gray, and the air smelled like wet earth and nostalgia.

Petra and Historia had both changed into comfy clothes—oversized tees, messy buns, and thick socks. With no classes or shifts to worry about, Petra took her time organizing the chaos of her desk, while Historia vacuumed with questionable motivation, mostly dancing to music in between.

After an hour of pretending to be productive, they both collapsed onto Petra’s bed, tangled in blankets like lazy cats. The room felt warm, the storm outside making it even cozier.

That’s when ping, her phone lit up.

Levi.
Okey.

The message was in response to something she’d sent 18 hours ago. Petra stared at the screen, blinked, then just laughed.

“Wow. Man of the year,” she muttered.

Historia looked over. “Is that him again? Mr. Emotionless?”

Petra smirked and texted back,
Hy. Where are you guys now? In HQ East already?

A few seconds later:
Yup.

Short. Dry. Classic Levi.

Petra chuckled again and typed,
Okey. How’s the weather there?

Sunny.
His reply came like a military report.

Petra turned her camera to the rainy window and sent a quick snap of the downpour outside. Fat droplets raced each other down the glass, thunder rolling somewhere in the distance.

After a minute, Levi’s final response popped up:
Hmm.

And then—offline.

Petra stared at the screen. “He just said ‘hmm’ and vanished.”

Historia snorted, “I swear, texting him is like talking to an NPC.”

“Exactly! Like, what am I supposed to do with a ‘hmm’? Frame it?”

But she didn’t sound annoyed. In fact, there was a weird little smile on her lips as she locked her phone and tossed it aside.

“He’s probably busy,” she mumbled and nestled into the pillow.

And just like that, she drifted off into a nap, the sound of rain and her unread feelings lulling her to sleep.

---

Author’s POV:
Petra won’t admit it—not to herself, not to Historia, definitely not to Levi—but that tiny gray "Okey" bubble from him was enough to make her day. It’s funny how someone who types like a wall still manages to live rent-free in her thoughts. And Levi? Somewhere under that gruff silence and permanent scowl, he opened Petra’s rain picture more than once before going offline.

---

Author’s POV

Days turned into weeks, and weeks into two whole months. Life for Petra had gradually fallen into rhythm again. Semester exams? Checked. Assignments? All turned in. A calm, productive routine had taken over—her dorm was peaceful, her friends were supportive, and her heart, though a little heavy, was learning to stay steady.

She still texted Levi every day, like a quiet ritual. But his replies were sparse—dry, short, and delayed. Once, he responded after eighteen hours with a single word: “Busy.” That was all. No warmth. No softness. Still that same cold and distant tone.

Petra didn’t blame him. He was a soldier. Maybe he was really busy… or maybe he just didn’t want to talk. Either way, she didn’t want to disturb him, so she kept her texts light and rare.

It was a rainy night—the kind of unexpected, heavy downpour that made the sky weep in confusion. The monsoon had already passed, yet tonight, it felt like the rain had returned just for the drama of it. The wind howled gently against the dorm windows, and thunder grumbled in the distance like a tired old man complaining in his sleep.

Inside the dorm, it was dinner time—noisy, chaotic, and full of clattering trays and loud laughter. Students bustled through the hallways, heading to the dining hall, debating over whether to eat the curry or stick to bread. Petra followed Historia chattering beside her.

Plates in hand, they sat at their usual table, half-watching the old TV mounted in the corner, when the news interrupted the drama playing on-screen.

> “Urgent: An enemy force from a neighboring region has entered the country. Citizens are advised to stay alert and indoors. Avoid forest areas or isolated locations.”

The dining hall stilled for a beat. A few gasps. Some looked at each other, wide-eyed. But just as quickly, the moment passed. Jokes resumed, and someone made fun of the anchor’s robotic tone. Most students shrugged it off—after all, what could possibly happen here?

But Petra’s eyes lingered on the screen. A chill ran down her spine—not just from the news, but from the memory of what lay behind the dorm.

A forest. Dense, silent, and stretching long beyond the fencing. The border between campus and the unknown.

She swallowed hard.

It was probably nothing.

But that strange silence in Levi’s recent messages now felt heavier.

Author's POV:

After a while, the electricity went out in the dorm. No one panicked—this was nothing new. The girls, long used to the frequent power cuts, continued chatting and eating in the common area, their voices echoing softly under the low hum of rain outside.

Soon, someone lit a small lamp, then another. Warm orange light flickered across the walls as everyone gathered closer, sharing snacks, laughter slowly fading into a calm silence. The downpour outside was getting louder, now pounding against the roof like war drums. It was one of those rains that didn’t feel normal—like the clouds were trying to say something.

Eventually, everyone drifted off to their rooms, lulled by the rhythm of the storm.

Petra and Historia stepped into their shared room, shutting the door behind them. Petra walked to the window and struggled a bit to close it against the strong wind. Water droplets had already formed little puddles on the floor, and she wiped them away while Historia lit a candle on the desk.

The hostel was completely sealed now. Doors locked. Windows bolted.

Just as they were getting ready for bed—Historia brushing her hair, Petra folding her clothes—something shifted.

A faint noise.

Then silence.

Too silent.

In the distance, from down the hallway, a strange thud echoed.

Then another.

And just like that, all the noise in the dorm vanished. Every laugh. Every whisper. Even the usual creaks of the old building seemed to pause.

Everyone in the dorm went quiet.

Petra froze, looking at Historia.

“What was that?” she whispered.

Neither of them had an answer. Just the sound of rain—and something else—that didn’t belong.

Author’s POV:

Then—a gunshot.

Sharp. Loud. Terrifying.

It cut through the thunder like a blade, echoing down the halls of the dorm like it didn’t belong in this world. Every single person froze in place. The rain kept pouring, wild and merciless, beating against the windows like fists. But inside, there was only silence… and fear.

No one dared speak. No one moved.

A sudden crackle of the speaker startled them all.

It was the old intercom from the warden’s office.

The voice, usually stern and strict, now trembled with urgency.

> "Girls, lock your doors. Don’t step out of your rooms. Some… intruders are inside. Don’t panic. The police have already been contacted."

That was all.

The message ended.

No details. No comfort. Just a warning that felt far too real.

Petra and Historia stared at each other wide-eyed. Without a word, they bolted to the door, slammed it shut, and pushed the lock into place. Petra even dragged the small dresser in front of it with shaking hands.

They collapsed onto the floor, backs against the wall, heartbeats loud in their chests.

The gunshot hadn’t come from near them. It was from upstairs.

Somewhere above them, something was happening. Something terrible.

And even though none of the girls could see it, deep down—they all knew.

This wasn’t a prank. It wasn’t a drill.

It was real. It was serious. And it was dangerous.

The building was too quiet now. The kind of quiet that comes just before something breaks.

Shaking hands. Rapid breathing. Minds racing.

Petra and Historia both grabbed their phones in a panic. The room was dim, lit only by the flickering candle, shadows dancing on the walls. The signal bars on their screens—barely one. Sometimes none. The rainstorm was making it worse.

“Text Reiner,” Petra whispered. “Maybe he knows something. He’s good with this kind of stuff.”

Historia’s fingers moved fast across the screen.

> "Reiner. Something's wrong. Gunshots. Warden said intruders. "

But the message wouldn’t send.
Failed.
She tried again. Again. Again.
Still failed.

Petra was typing too, her fingers trembling.

> "Sasha. Are you hearing this?? Something's happening in the dorm—gunshots. Please reply!"

No ticks. No “delivered.”
Just a frozen screen and a spinning circle.

And then—another gunshot.

Closer.

Petra dropped her phone with a gasp.

Then—a door burst open upstairs.
The sound of it slamming against the wall.
A scream. Another. Someone yelling. Crying.

And then silence again.

Historia covered her mouth. Her eyes welled up. Petra’s hand found hers and squeezed tightly, but neither spoke.

What was happening?
Who was up there?
Were the intruders armed? Were they looking for someone?

They didn’t know.

So they stayed still. Silent. Barely breathing.

Outside, the storm howled.

Inside, fear swallowed the dorm whole.

Crackle—

The intercom came to life again, the static louder this time, as if the very wires were trembling.

> “Girls, please don’t panic. The cops are on their way. Whatever you do, don’t step outside your rooms. Stay where you are. Stay safe.”

But it was too late for some.

A few girls—driven by panic, not logic—had already run out of their rooms after the first gunshot. Screams were heard. Doors had slammed. Some had tried to rush downstairs, others towards the back door, hoping to escape.

But they couldn’t.

Every single exit—locked. Bolted.
As if this wasn’t a break-in.

But a setup.

The hostel had become a trap.
The entire building—a hostage zone.

Heavy footsteps echoed down the hall. Not running. Not frantic.
Slow. Deliberate. Almost... hunting.

Inside their locked room, Petra and Historia sat frozen. They could hear the chaos unraveling behind their thin wooden door. Muffled cries. Something metal dragging. A scream suddenly cut short.

Historia’s phone vibrated. Her eyes darted to the screen.

Still no message delivered. No signal. Just the same spinning dot.

“I don’t like this,” she whispered, her voice cracking.

Petra didn’t reply.

Because deep inside, she knew—this wasn’t just a break-in. This was something else.

And they were all trapped in it.
Q

Minutes crawled by like hours.

The screams from upstairs slowly faded—like air leaking from a balloon—leaving only the sounds of doors being kicked in and things crashing. But now… the noise was on their floor.

Closer. Louder. Real.

Petra and Historia held their breath, clinging to each other in the darkness. Every muscle tense. The candle flickered violently as heavy boots stomped through the corridor.

Then—

BANG.

Their door burst open, splinters flying. Historia screamed. Petra instinctively shielded her.

Armed men—faces covered, eyes cold—stormed in. One of them pointed a gun at them.

“Up. Now.”

They didn’t resist. Historia was already crying, legs barely holding. Petra helped her up, heart pounding so loudly she thought it might give them away.

They were pushed out into the hallway, joining a stream of terrified girls being forced from their rooms. Every face was pale. Some were bleeding—bruised, limping, clutching arms or shoulders.

The corridor was soaked with fear.

They were herded to the main dining hall.

The once lively place filled with warmth and noise was now a prison. A nightmare.

Girls sat in clusters on the floor, sobbing or holding hands. And then Petra saw it—

A body.

Lying in the center of the room.

Not moving.

It was the hostel security guard.

A pool of blood slowly spreading beneath him.

Petra’s knees nearly gave out. Historia gasped and turned away, burying her face in Petra’s shoulder.

The invaders stood around them, guns in hand, eyes watching every movement.

Then one of them stepped forward and held out a box.

“Phones. All of them. Now.”

One by one, the girls were forced to hand over their phones, dropping them into the box like fragile hopes being sealed away. No signal. No contact. No way out.

The last of their connection to the outside world—gone.

They were officially trapped.

---

Author’s POV:

At the HQ, it was one of those rare quiet nights.

Everyone was exhausted from the last week’s chaos. Enemy energy spikes had been detected near the borders, and military corps had been deployed across various sectors to tighten surveillance. Constant drills, sleepless patrols, and briefings had drained even the most seasoned soldiers.

So tonight… was rest.

Most officers were either napping or silently sipping coffee in the dining hall, the TV playing in the background. A news anchor droned on about political updates and troop movements. Levi sat at the far end, half-asleep, arms crossed, eyes barely open. Hange sat nearby, munching quietly, absorbed in a report.

Suddenly—

> “We interrupt this broadcast with breaking news.”

The screen flickered. Everyone turned.

> “This just in—
A women’s college dormitory in South Mitral District has been taken over in what appears to be a planned armed hostage situation.
The building has been sealed from the inside. Multiple gunshots were heard by nearby civilians, and sources confirm at least one casualty—believed to be a hostel security guard.
Authorities suspect a possible connection to enemy infiltration activity.
The local police are on the scene, but the situation remains critical.
Hostages are believed to be mostly young female students.
Reinforcements have been requested.”

The hall fell dead silent.

Levi sat upright.
Hange froze mid-bite.

“Wait,” Hange whispered, narrowing her eyes.

The screen cut to a shaky aerial image of the dorm building, emergency lights flashing outside. Police cars forming a perimeter. And then a clip of screaming girls being forced into a hall, blurry but unmistakably real.

Levi’s eyes sharpened like a blade.

“Did they say South Mitral?” he asked, voice low.

Hange nodded slowly, already reaching for her gear.

Levi stood up, cold anger spreading across his face.

The room stayed still.

Silent.

The hum of the TV was the only sound now.

Hange immediately pulled out her phone and dialed Petra’s number.

One ring.
Two.
Then—“The number you are trying to reach is currently switched off…”

She ended the call and tried again. And again.

Nothing.

“Damn it,” she muttered, clenching her jaw. “She always answers.”

Levi didn’t speak. He didn’t have to. The way he stared at the screen—stone-faced, fists clenched—said it all.

They quickly contacted the Military Police Headquarters.

“South Mitral? Yes, we’ve received the alert,” the voice on the other end said. “But listen, it’s extremely risky. No visual on the suspects yet. We’re coordinating with local units. You’ll be updated if support is cleared.”

Levi’s eyes narrowed. “So you’re doing nothing?”

“We're... containing the perimeter.”

Click.

Levi didn’t wait to hear more.

Back in the dining hall, everyone was still glued to the screen as the news anchor continued:

> “New updates just in—
Sources confirm that the intruders are not local. They may be linked to a larger infiltration group operating in the southern region.
All exits to the building were sealed using a custom electromagnetic lock system—pointing to pre-planning and military-level knowledge.
A witness claims to have seen at least five armed men, all masked, some speaking in a language not recognized by local students.
Authorities are investigating whether this is an isolated event or the beginning of a larger attack.”

“No demands have been made by the group yet. The reason behind the attack remains unknown.”

“Parents of the students have started gathering outside the main gates, demanding answers. The local police have not released the names of any hostages.”

---

Levi never truly slept that night.

Not after the news broke.

Not after the call went dead.

And especially not after the realization sank in—

Petra was inside.

Levi stood by the window long after everyone else had gone quiet. The cold air seeped through the cracks, the kind that never touched his skin—but buried itself inside the chest.

He finally opened her chat.

The last message she had sent, few hours ago, glowed on the screen.

> “It’s raining here.”

Simple. Ordinary. Innocent.

The kind of text you’d forget on a normal day.

But now it felt like a goodbye.

He stared at it.

No typing bubble.
No reply.
No Petra.

He stood there like a statue, unable to move. For the first time in years, he didn’t know what to do.

---

The Next Morning – 6:15 AM
The HQ was bathed in grey light. Fog hung heavy around the building like the mood inside.

No one said anything.

They all gathered silently in the mess hall.

Someone turned on the TV.

The screen lit up with a red banner:

> “HOSTAGE SITUATION – DAY 2”

News Anchor:

> “Good morning. We continue our live coverage of the terrifying hostage situation at the South Mitral Women’s Dormitory, now entering its tenth hour.

Officials have confirmed the identity of the deceased guard as Elias Roy, 47, who worked night security. His family was informed earlier this morning.”

“Medical personnel outside the building have treated four students who managed to escape from the ground floor window late last night. They suffered minor injuries and are currently in stable condition—but their testimony has provided horrifying insights.”

[Pre-recorded Clip – Police Statement]

> “The attackers are armed, strategic, and are keeping the hostages inside the central dining hall. They used metal chains and security desks to block the doors from the inside. The victims described them as masked, possibly foreign, and one appeared to be injured himself.”

Anchor:

> “While police negotiators have attempted communication, there has been no response from inside. Intelligence officials are now investigating the possibility that this is linked to a larger underground faction suspected of infiltrating civilian zones across the border.”

> “A Special Forces Unit has been placed on standby—however, intervention remains on hold, as the attackers have issued no demands and any rash move could result in multiple casualties.”

The camera cut briefly to exhausted, teary-eyed parents waiting outside in blankets, clutching thermoses, eyes on the building.

Anchor (somberly):

> “Inside that building are daughters, friends, and sisters. The country waits for answers… and a safe return.”

The room at HQ remained silent.

Levi’s eyes didn’t leave the screen.

He hadn’t slept.

He hadn’t moved.

He whispered, almost to himself, almost to no one—

“She’s stronger than that. She’ll hold on.”

---

Scene: Inside the South Mitral Dormitory – Dining Hall
Author’s POV:

It was quiet.
Not peaceful quiet—but dreadful, suffocating quiet.
The kind that crawled under your skin and pressed down on your lungs.

The dormitory’s dining hall, once filled with chatter and laughter, had become a prison of trembling breaths and muffled sobs.

Some girls were curled up against the cold floor.
Some leaned on each other, too exhausted to sit up straight.
Others… just stared into nothing.

A few had tried to run earlier in the night.

Some made it.

Some didn’t.

The girls who witnessed it could still hear the sounds in their head—the gunshot, the scream, the thud.

Now, no one tried anymore.

They knew… there was no way out.

Petra sat near one of the corners of the hall, her arms around Historia, who was quietly sobbing into her shoulder. Her hands trembled as they clutched Petra’s sleeves like a lifeline.

The scent of blood hung faintly in the air.

Two girls sat nearby, bandaging another’s injured leg using torn shirts. One of the intruders had slammed her against the wall when she resisted.

The captors—five masked men—had shown their faces just once, when they demanded all phones and lined up the girls like cattle.
One had a deep scar down his chin. Another had cold, empty eyes that scanned the crowd like a hunter looking at prey.

They didn’t speak much, only giving cold, short commands.

But Petra watched. She listened.
And something about them… didn’t feel right.

Not just criminals.

They were trained.

Some of the braver girls had tried to reach the military, using small hidden devices they hadn’t handed over.
One of them, Mina, had a smartwatch with a weak signal.
Another had a burner phone hidden in her boot.
They tried. Again and again.

But the storm. The jamming. The building.

No signal.

They were cut off.

Petra stroked Historia’s hair gently. Her own heart pounded in her chest like a war drum.

They didn’t know if help would come.
They didn’t know if they would survive the next hour.
But Petra kept her face still—calm, even.

Because someone had to.

And deep down, through the fear, the darkness, and the silence…

---

Inside the dormitory, everyone was quietly eating what little food they had. The supplies were low, but they managed somehow, swallowing hard against the gnawing hunger and fear.

Historia needed to use the toilet. When she asked, the captors screamed at them but finally allowed her to go — only if one of their men accompanied her.

Clutching a small, old-model phone — one the captors hadn’t noticed — Historia secretly texted someone outside about what was happening inside the dormitory.

When she stepped outside the bathroom, the phone suddenly made a sound.

The man guarding her immediately turned and approached.

Without warning, he snatched the phone and slapped Historia hard across the face.

Petra rushed to defend her, trying to fight back, but the captors quickly overpowered them both, beating them brutally.

Despite the assault, the men dragged Historia and Petra back to the others.

Everyone watched in silence, terrified and helpless.

No one dared to make a sound.

---

Levi finally stepped into the washroom and quietly cleaned himself up. The cuts on his side stung, but he barely reacted. His movements were mechanical

Once he’d finished treating his wounds, he joined the rest of the Eastern Region Corps. Every officer, every soldier sat in silence in front of the large screen in the war room. No one spoke. All eyes were on the news channel, waiting.

Then the screen flickered.

The news anchor appeared, visibly shaken.

---

📺 BREAKING NEWS: HOSTAGE VIDEO FROM SOUTH MITRAL WOMEN’S DORMITORY

Anchor’s voice tense and low:
“We have just received exclusive and disturbing footage sent directly from the armed group currently holding hostages inside the South Mitral Women’s Dormitory. We warn our viewers: what you are about to see is distressing.”

The screen cut to the footage:

Rows of terrified young women sitting shoulder-to-shoulder on the dormitory floor. Faces pale. Some crying quietly. Others trying to stay strong.
Among them — Petra Rall, with a bruise on her cheek. Historia beside her, eyes red and filled with fear.

A masked man stood in front of the camera.

> “We are in control of this building. These girls are in our hands. We demand safe passage to our border. No tricks. No delays. If our request is not granted... these students will pay the price.”

The camera panned slowly, capturing each face, each shiver.

Then the screen went black.

Back in the studio, the anchor continued:

> “This footage has been confirmed as authentic by military intelligence. Negotiators are on high alert. The government has not released an official statement, but internal sources suggest a response is being prepared.”

---

The room fell silent.

Levi stared at the screen — at her.
Petra, battered but still brave.

His jaw clenched.

This wasn’t just a mission anymore.

It was personal

It had been more than two days.
Nothing had changed.

The girls were still being held hostage inside the South Mitral Women’s Dormitory. No food had come in. No light. No safety. Just fear growing heavier with every hour.

The footage the captors sent was still being replayed across military channels and national news, but negotiations had stalled. The enemy hadn’t moved. Neither had the military.

Back at the Eastern Region HQ, the mood was grim. That’s when the call came.

“Eastern Corps, move to South Mitral. Full deployment.”

Without a word, Levi packed his gear. His eyes, cold and focused, told everyone what this mission meant to him.

Erwin, Hange, and their teams assembled immediately. Soldiers moved quickly — silence and urgency in every step. Within hours, the entire unit was on the road back to South Mitral.

Meanwhile, another squad had already arrived from the Eastern region and was stationed near the perimeter, maintaining a tight watch on the dormitory from a secured command post.

Helicopters hovered. Drones surveyed.

The dormitory remained still from the outside — but inside, lives hung by a thread.

As Levi and his team approached the edge of the city, the setting sun bathed the buildings in a fading red glow. For him, the countdown had already begun.

Inside the dormitory, time felt frozen.

The air was heavy, the fear constant. Two days had passed, and still no one had come for them. The girls were tired, bruised, and starving — but they hadn’t lost hope completely.

Then, something happened.

One of the girls — Mina — whispered urgently.
“I think… I got a signal.”

The old phone Historia had hidden was destroyed, but Mina had secretly kept a backup SIM in her boot — and by some miracle, her battered phone caught a faint signal.

Everyone around her froze. Petra helped shield her as Mina typed furiously, her fingers trembling.

“We’re still here… please help us. They’re still armed. Still inside.”

She hit send.
And waited.
Nothing.

A minute later, a single typing dot blinked on the screen.

Someone was there.

The girls looked at one another — breaths held, hearts racing.

But then… the signal dropped. The message was never delivered. The screen blinked No Network again.

Petra closed her eyes, holding Mina’s hand tightly.

Outside, the military had caught the ping — a brief signal from within the dormitory. Command quickly scrambled to trace it, but the line was dead before they could act.

A chance for contact — gone in seconds.

Inside the dormitory, the girls sat in silence again. That small moment of hope faded like smoke.

But Levi and the others had seen it.
They knew — someone inside was still trying to reach them.

And that was enough to light the fire.

That night, the rain started.

Not a gentle drizzle — but a furious storm.
Winds howled through the trees. Lightning lit up the sky in violent flashes, and thunder growled over the city like a warning.

But it didn’t stop the mission.

Under Erwin’s command, the military corps had finally found a path — a hidden route through the forest, one that led around the dormitory’s blind spot. The enemy wouldn’t expect it. It was risky… but it was their only chance.

Inside a makeshift command tent, soaked maps were spread across a table lit by dim lanterns.
Hange laid out the entry strategy.
Levi checked his gear, silent and sharp-eyed.

Through the storm, the squad advanced — boots sinking into the wet forest ground, leaves sticking to their uniforms, breath fogging in the cold night air. Thunder masked their steps. They were getting closer.

Then—
a sound.

Faint, but real.
Gunshots.
Screams.
A sharp cry that pierced even the pounding rain.

Everyone stopped.
Hearts stopped.

They had heard it.
Even through the chaos of the storm — it was clear.
Something had gone wrong inside.

Levi’s fists clenched.

Erwin gave a nod.

“Move. Now.”

Scene: Underground Kitchen – Chaos Unleashed

As Levi kicked open the Underground door, the sharp slam echoed through the dark, damp corridor. Hange signaled silently—they weren’t alone.

Suddenly, a clatter of boots. Shadows dashed in from the left. Intruders in black gear, masked and heavily armed, charged with blades and smoke bombs.

“Move!” erwin barked.

Erwin’s squad split immediately, taking positions.mike and levi ducked behind overturned tables while Mikasa engaged the first wave with lightning speed, slicing through two attackers before they even reached her.

“Go for the leader!” Erwin commanded, clashing steel against steel with a towering figure wielding dual axes.

Armin and Hange used flash grenades to blind their enemies,
Hangetake the right flank !” Levi yelled, parrying a strike aimed at his neck. He dodged low, spinning behind his attacker, and stabbed clean through the chest.

On the stairs, Connie andnifa were struggling against a brute who knocked Connie back with a kick. Historia screamed—until Levi threw a knife from across the room, hitting the intruder’s hand and disarming him instantly. Connie recovered and tackled him to the ground.

Hange leapt over a countertop, locking swords with a twin-blade wielder, laughing manically. “You picked the wrong day to raid our dorm!”

Meanwhile, in the back, falco crashed through the wall, slamming two intruders into the floor.

“ commander Erwin! More coming .” Armin called out, loading another rifle shot.

“Squad! End it now!” Erwin roared.

A final wave of intruders swarmed in—but Levi, Mikasa, and Hange were already a storm of steel. In a matter of minutes, the floor was strewn with unconscious and bleeding enemies. Some tried to crawl away—only to be surrounded by Survey Corps blades.

Panting, bloodied, but victorious, Levi looked around the ruined kitchen.
“All clear,” Hange said, pushing up her goggles.

“Then we move to the dining hall."

Here’s a detailed scene with fights between the Survey Corps and the intruders, and how they help the hostages in the underground dormitory:

The hostages were safe now.

But safety did not erase the pain.

The dining hall was filled with trembling bodies—young girls bruised, bleeding, and broken. Some sat curled in corners. Others clung to each other in silence. But most were crying. Their eyes were fixed on the still, pale figure lying on the cold floor.

One girl was dead.

No one dared to move.
No one could look away.

Screams and cries echoed off the walls like ghosts refusing to leave. The air was thick with grief, shock, and something deeper—something that wouldn’t be healed by bandages alone.

Even Petra was crying.

She knelt near the body, one arm around Historia, who was shaking silently. Her other hand pressed tightly over her chest, as if her heart might break open at any moment. Her face was bruised—dirt smudged across her cheek, a cut on her brow—but her tears still fell, clear and hot.

She had survived… but not everyone had.

Levi stepped into the room, boots clicking against the floor. He paused as his eyes scanned the scene—his squad standing guard, the medics rushing in as the Survey Corps unlocked the doors and opened the way for the infirmary team.

And then he saw her.

Petra.

She was trying not to fall apart, but the weight in her chest made it hard to breathe. Her shoulders trembled. Her face was streaked with tears. Levi’s heart stopped for a moment, seeing her
like something broke.

Levi didn’t move right away.he stared at her unmoved

“We’re getting everyone to the hospital,” erwin said softly, but loud enough for the medics to hear.

The body was covered gently. The girls were lifted one by one, wrapped in blankets. Some screamed, some sobbed, some just stared blankly into nothing.

But the nightmare… was finally ending

---

After that, all the girls were immediately shifted to the hospital.

Reiner and Historia’s parents rushed in as soon as they heard the news, panic written across their faces. The hallway was filled with voices, some crying, some praying. Sasha and Nicolo arrived soon after, breathless, their expressions pale and tight with worry. Nicolo had never driven that fast in his life. They were there for Petra — Sasha refused to sit still once she heard Petra was among the injured.

Inside the ER, the atmosphere was cold and sterile, the faint beeping of machines mixing with the muffled sobs of the girls. Doctors moved quickly, nurses wheeled stretchers past them, the air tense with urgency.

Petra was lying on a hospital bed, a bandage on her face, dried blood still on her temple. Bruises bloomed across her arms, and her lip was split, but her eyes were open, tears rolling silently as she stared at the ceiling.

Levi stood a few meters away.

He saw her. He wanted to go to her. His fingers clenched, his jaw locked. But he didn’t move. He couldn’t.

Something in his chest twisted painfully, like guilt clawing up from inside. He had saved her. But it hadn’t been fast enough. Not before she was hurt. Not before she broke down crying into his uniform, trembling like a leaf.

Now she lay there — quiet, shattered — and he didn’t dare approach her.

He stood among the others in the emergency room, his hands in his pockets, staring at the floor. The weight of everything hung in the air like smoke.

The next morning arrived with a heavy silence.

Historia left with her parents, Reiner accompanying them. She needed time. She needed healing. The trauma still clung to her like a shadow, and Reiner silently promised to stay by her side.

Back at the dorms, the mess had been cleared. The broken furniture, the blood stains, the scattered memories—all gone. But the air still held sorrow.

Some of the girls returned, though they had places they could’ve gone. Homes. Relatives. Comfort.

Yet they chose to stay.

Petra was one of them.

Sasha had called her over and over, insisting she come stay with her and Niccolo. Said she didn’t need to be alone. But Petra had declined. Gently. Firmly. She needed solitude—not because she wanted to push others away, but because she needed to find herself again.

The Survey Corps had stationed members nearby, still investigating, still trying to piece together the puzzle.

And that’s when she met him.

Armin Arlert.

Young. Quiet. Brilliant. He was poring over files and photos near the dorm courtyard when Petra walked past, clutching a cup of tea.

He noticed her but didn’t speak immediately.

“Excuse me,” he finally said, his voice soft. “hy whats ur name?”

She stopped, surprised. “petra ral,And you’re…?”

“Armin. I’m with the Survey Corps. Erwin’s squad.” He gave a polite nod. “I’m trying to analyze how the intruders managed to break our security that night.”

Petra looked down, her grip tightening around the mug. “That night...”

Armin glanced up. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to bring it back up.”

“It’s alright,” she said quietly. “It’s always there. In my head. Talking about it doesn’t make it worse. It’s just already bad.”

Armin hesitated, then sat on the low step. “I lost people too. Not during this... but before. Friends. Comrades. Sometimes I think if I’d just thought a little faster or moved a little sooner, maybe things would’ve been different.”

Petra looked at him closely. So young, but his eyes were old. Wiser than they should be.

“Did you ever stop blaming yourself?” she asked.

Armin took a breath. “No. But I learned to live with the weight. And I try to turn it into something useful.”

They sat in silence for a while, only the wind between them.

“You’re smart,” Petra said. Hange san once told me about you. She said you once outsmarted an entire enemy fleet.”

He smiled faintly. “I try my best. That’s all we can do, right?”

Petra finally sat down beside him, placing her tea beside her feet.

“Tell me what you’ve found so far,” she said.

Armin blinked. “You want to know?”

“yup” she said. “I need to. I need toknow something.”

And for the first time in days, her voice didn’t sound broken.

Levi still couldn’t shake the thoughts off.
He was sitting inside HQ, arms folded, eyes lowered as the faint hum of conversation filled the background. Some of his squad members were still in the dormitory, searching for clues, digging for evidence in the wake of everything that had happened.

Armin entered quietly. He didn’t say much, as usual. Just walked in, footsteps light, and came over to Levi.

Without a word, he placed a folded piece of paper on the table beside him.

Levi looked up.

“From a girl named Petra,” Armin said gently. “She told me to give it to you, Captain. She said... thank you.”

And then he left, the door clicking softly behind him.

Levi stared at the paper for a moment before unfolding it. It was a small note—simple, handwritten, with neat lines:

“Thank you for helping... like always.”
—P.

That was it.

But for some reason, it made something stir deep inside him.

Levi sat back, holding the paper in his hand. His eyes narrowed slightly, not in irritation, but in thought.
He wasn’t sure what he felt exactly. Until now, he'd never had the time—or the inclination—for things like relationships. He had no experience with them. No crushes, no loves, no deep attachments.he hadlost most of his friends which make him less attached to anyone .he didnt want to carry that pain
Just the mission. Just survival.

But Petra was different.

Ever since that day—the accident, the way she cried into his chest—he hadn't been able to stop thinking about her. Not just her pain, but her strength beneath it. The way she always tried to hold herself together, even when things were falling apart.

He was confused. Frustrated, even. What was this feeling?

Levi wasn’t the type to change easily, not in personality, not in routine. He didn’t know how to react to this quiet shift happening inside him.
But one thing was clear.

He wanted to protect her.

Not just as a soldier. Not just as part of some mission.
He wanted to be there—for her.

And reading her note… it calmed him. The chaos in his head dulled for a moment, like the storm clouds had parted slightly just to let a sliver of sunlight in.

He folded the paper carefully, almost reverently, and tucked it into his inner coat pocket.

He didn’t smile.
But his eyes… they softened.

Just a little.

Levi sat still, elbows resting on his knees, fingers loosely laced, the note from Petra still tucked securely in his coat.
The words haunted him in the quietest, gentlest way:
"Thank you for helping... like always."

He thought about her again. Petra. Twenty-one. Still so young.
Too young for someone like him.
He was already thirty-three—old enough to have seen the worst of this world, to know how cruel it could be. He’d carried corpses, buried comrades, watched hope flicker and die in too many eyes.
He’d lived with blood on his hands and silence in his heart.

She was still learning how to live.
Still discovering herself.
And he… he was a soldier. A weapon.
He didn’t even know how long he’d last.

What right did he have to get involved in her life?
What if one day he died, and she was left with nothing but regret?

"I just want her to be happy," Levi thought grimly.
"That girl deserves the world. Not… me."

The door creaked open suddenly.

“Heeeyyy, Leeeeviiiii—”
It was Hange, as loud and energetic as ever.

Levi looked up, blinking once as the spell of his thoughts was broken.

“Armin pieced together some of the clues,” she said, walking over briskly and flopping onto a nearby chair.
“Looks like we're getting somewhere.”

Levi nodded. “Okay. What now?”

“Erwin’s still in talks,” Hange replied, voice more even now. “We’ll decide by tomorrow.”

“Fine,” Levi muttered, already mentally preparing for whatever plan was coming next.

But then, Hange’s tone changed.

Not teasing.
Not her usual chaotic energy.
It was quiet. Firm. Almost... raw.

“Levi,” she said, looking at him, “you know… we don’t know how long any of us have. One mission. One mistake. That’s all it takes. Life is temporary.”

He looked at her silently.

She continued, softer this time.
“Try to live for yourself too, okay?”

Levi’s jaw tightened slightly. He didn’t respond right away.

He wasn’t used to this—people caring about him, not just his performance.
Not just the results he delivered.

Live for himself?
He didn’t even know what that meant anymore.
He only knew how to fight. How to survive. How to bury the dead and keep walking.

But Hange’s words lingered.

Maybe it wasn’t just about surviving anymore.

Maybe Petra’s note wasn’t just a thank-you—it was a quiet way of saying,
“I see you. I trust you.”

And maybe... just maybe... that meant something worth living for.

He didn’t say anything.
Just nodded once.

That was enough.

The next morning was hectic.

Erwin had already reported everything to the higher-ups, and the operation was officially progressing. Schedules were tight. Movements, tighter. Every squad had a role.

Levi and his team were heading to the dormitory again that day.
He didn’t say it out loud, but… he hoped to see her.

The journey was straightforward—first to the nearby woods, retracing the path the intruders had used that night.
Footprints. Broken branches. Minor traces, but enough for someone like Levi to follow. The squad spread out and searched until the sun was high above, burning down through the tree canopy.

By afternoon, they returned to the dormitory.

Levi stepped down from his horse, wiping a speck of dust from his glove, his eyes instinctively scanning the building. Habit. Training. Instinct.

But then he saw something—
Or rather, someone.

Up on the terrace.

Petra.

She was quietly taking down dried laundry from the clothesline, folding each piece with care. The wind gently rustled her hair as she worked in silence, sleeves rolled up, her movements unhurried.

No one was around her. Just the sky, the sun, and the sound of fabric being folded.

Levi stood still for a moment, not moving.
Just watching.

She hadn’t seen him.

After a few minutes, Petra gathered the clothes and slipped back inside.

Levi exhaled, eyes still on the empty terrace.

He could’ve gone up.
He could’ve stopped her. Said something. Anything.
Even just a quiet “How are you?”

But…
He didn’t.

Not because he didn’t care.
But because he didn’t know how to show it.
Because making things uncomfortable between them—that wasn’t in his nature.
He didn’t want to corner her with his presence. Didn’t want to burden her with feelings he wasn’t even sure he understood.

So instead, he turned away. Said nothing.
And walked back toward his squad.

But as he moved, something lingered in his chest.

A silent, growing weight.

He wanted to talk to her.
More than anything.

But sometimes, even the strongest soldiers struggle to face the gentlest people.

After a while

Petra was taking a nap when suddenly someone knocked sharply on the door.
She opened it and saw a soldier standing there, calling everyone to gather in the hallway for questioning.

She didn’t want to go, but she had no choice — so reluctantly, she followed.

The soldier’s voice was firm, demanding attention as he began the interrogation.
“Tell me your full name and age.
How long have you been staying in this dormitory?
Have you noticed anyone unfamiliar or out of place recently?
Have you overheard any suspicious conversations or rumors?
Did you see any unusual activity around the area last night?
Have you or anyone you know received strange messages, deliveries, or threats?
Are there any new faces in the group that weren’t here before?
Has anyone acted nervous, secretive, or behaved differently lately?
Have you witnessed anything that could hint at enemy movements or plans?
Is there something — no matter how small or insignificant it might seem — that you think we should know?”

She kept her answers short and vague, hoping to avoid trouble.

Levi stood across the hall, silently watching her with an intensity she could feel but dared not acknowledge.
His eyes were fixed on her like he was trying to read her thoughts, his concern unmistakable.
But she didn’t dare meet his gaze and looked away, her heart pounding in quiet fear.

To an outsider, this might seem like just another routine check, but beneath the surface, the tension was palpable.
Levi’s stare was not just about duty — it was a desperate plea for connection, for understanding in a world that had offered little comfort.
For her, avoiding his eyes was both a shield and a silent confession: a way to hide the turmoil she could not yet

Things were slowly settling.

It had been over two days since the incident.

Levi still hadn’t spoken to her.
And Petra—she wasn’t expecting him to.
Not because she didn’t want him to... but because she didn’t know how to face anyone yet.

She kept mostly to herself.
She had lost her phone in the chaos, and without it, the silence around her grew louder.
There were no notifications to check, no playlists to drown her thoughts in—just quiet.

She sat by the window, knees pulled to her chest, watching the leaves sway gently in the breeze. The faint hum of life in the dormitory surrounded her, but her room remained still.

Knock knock.

She flinched slightly.

Slowly, she stood up and walked to the door.

“Petra?” a familiar voice called. “It’s Armin.”

She opened the door. “Hey…”

“Hey,” he greeted with a soft smile. “Mind if I come in for a bit?”

She stepped aside. “Sure.”

Armin entered, giving the room a quick glance. It was tidy, but dim. Calm, but with an air of heaviness.

“I haven’t seen you around much,” he said, taking a seat by her desk. “Just wanted to check in. See how you're holding up.”

Petra gave a small shrug. “I guess I’m okay. Just... needed time to breathe.”

He nodded. “Understandable. After something like that, it's hard to jump back into routine.”

“Yeah,” she murmured. “It feels strange. Like everything outside is moving normally, but inside—” she paused, looking for words, “—inside, it's just... stuck.”

Armin looked thoughtful, his hands resting on his knees.
“I know that feeling. After the Trost attack, I felt that too. Like I had to catch up with the world, even when my mind wasn’t ready.”

She looked at him. “What helped you?”

He smiled gently. “Small things. Reading. Walking. Listening. Letting moments come without forcing anything. And... letting people in, slowly.”

Petra nodded. “It’s weird, isn't it? How something terrifying can make the world feel both louder and quieter at the same time.”

Armin chuckled lightly. “Yeah. That’s exactly how it feels.”

They sat in companionable silence for a few moments, the breeze fluttering the corner of a paper on her desk.

Then Petra said, “I lost my phone that night.”

“Oh,” Armin said softly. “That sucks.”

“It’s funny, I never realized how much I used it to distract myself. Now I’m just... sitting with myself.”

Armin gave a small smile. “Sometimes that’s the hardest thing to do.”

She glanced at him, a grateful look in her tired eyes.
“Thanks for coming by, Armin.”

“Anytime,” he said, standing up. “You don’t have to go through all of this alone. If you ever feel like talking—or just sitting in silence—I’m around.”

She walked him to the door and gave him a nod. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

As he left, the door clicked softly behind him.

The silence returned—but this time, it didn’t feel quite so empty.

The Survey Corps was still stationed at the dormitory grounds.

Even though things had calmed, the area remained under observation. The investigation was ongoing—fragments of information, possible clues, patterns that might lead them to whoever was responsible. Soldiers moved in and out, discussing findings, mapping out theories.

The main hallway buzzed with quiet murmurs as a few members of Levi’s squad stood around a map laid across a table.

Levi leaned against the wall nearby, arms crossed, listening but saying little—his usual silent authority keeping the atmosphere tight.

Just then, footsteps echoed down the staircase.

Everyone turned instinctively.

It was Armin.
Coming down from the upper floor, looking a little flustered, his hair slightly out of place.

One of the younger soldiers smirked.
“Hey... Captain, look who’s coming from upstairs.”

Levi’s eyes flicked upward.

The soldier raised a brow playfully. “Oi, tch, brat—what were you doing up there?”

Armin froze mid-step. “I—uh—I just went to see... someone.”

The silence that followed was brutal.

Levi’s sharp eyes narrowed, staring straight into Armin’s soul.

That stare.
Cold. Unblinking.
Enough to make a seasoned soldier question their entire life.

Armin visibly tensed. “It—it wasn’t anything. Just checking in on a resident.”

No one said anything for a second.

Then Levi clicked his tongue quietly. “Tch.”

Without another word, he turned back toward the table, focusing on the map.

The others smirked, but no one dared tease further. Not with Levi in earshot.

Armin exhaled, relieved yet still stiff as he quickly joined the rest.

And just like that, everything resumed.

But Levi’s eyes lingered on the stairs for a moment longer.

Only for a moment.

Then he pushed the thought away.

Back to work.

Author’s POV

It had been about an hour since Armin left.

The silence returned to her room, but this time Petra didn’t curl back into her thoughts.

She sat near the window, arms folded on the edge, watching the trees sway below. Then, suddenly—
A memory flickered.

That old uncle who lived downstairs.
He used to share dumplings whenever he came back from visiting his hometown. She remembered his wrinkled smile, the way he always carried a paper-wrapped box tied with twine. He hadn’t been around during the chaos—but maybe... he was back?

The thought pulled her up to her feet.

With slow steps, she opened her door and walked into the hallway.

The dormitory was still under quiet surveillance—Survey Corps members scattered around, discussing findings, reviewing notes, some standing guard. Conversations floated in hushed tones.

Petra didn’t say anything.
She kept her head slightly down, her steps light as she descended the stairs.

Some of the soldiers noticed her.
Most didn’t pay attention.

But one pair of eyes followed her for longer than the rest.

Levi.

She didn’t notice him watching.
Or maybe she did, and chose not to look up.

She kept walking.

Just as she reached the ground floor landing, a door near the side hallway creaked open.

“Ah! There she is!” a familiar voice called.

Petra turned, and there stood the old uncle—his face warm, his gray hair messier than usual. In his hands, a modest box wrapped in brown paper, held together with string.

Her eyes brightened a little.

“Uncle!” she greeted, softly.

“Back after a long week,” he smiled. “I brought something special this time.”
He held up the box, shaking it gently. “Still warm.”

“Dumplings?” she asked, smiling just a little.

“What else do I ever bring?” he chuckled. “You kids and your love for these… it’s the only thing keeping this old man relevant.”

Petra laughed quietly. “It’s the only thing I looked forward to after study hours.”

He stepped closer and placed the box in her hands.

“You’ve been keeping well?” he asked, his tone softening. “There was noise, trouble... some of the girls told me.”

Petra hesitated for a second, then nodded. “I’m... trying.”

He gave her a kind look. “That’s all you can do. Try. And eat.”

She looked down at the box in her hands, heart warmer than before.

“Thank you,” she said, almost in a whisper.

“Take your time with those,” he said. “And if you need more—just knock. My door’s always open.”

She gave him a grateful smile and turned to head back up the stairs.

As she climbed the steps, a few of the soldiers nodded at her politely. One or two smiled faintly. The dorm didn’t feel as cold anymore.

And Levi?

He looked away the moment she came back into view.
But not before catching the smallest trace of that rare smile on her face

Author’s POV

They wanted to talk.
Both of them.
Desperately.

But the silence between them had grown comfortable—and dangerous.
It was a shield. A wall. A quiet language they both had learned too well.

So they didn’t speak.

Petra walked ahead—each step light, each breath controlled—but her heart wasn’t calm. She felt the weight of the footsteps behind her.

Levi.

No words exchanged.
No questions asked.

None of the Survey Corps dared to interrupt.
They saw Levi trailing behind her and immediately returned to their tasks, pretending not to notice.
No one wanted to risk a sharp “Tch,” or worse—a glare that could haunt their dreams.

Levi didn’t explain himself. He didn’t need to.

But Petra didn’t go to her room.
She kept walking—past the hallway, past the old stairwell—and stepped out through the creaky metal door that led to the terrace.

The soft breeze welcomed her instantly.
Sunlight danced gently on the laundry lines above. The faint scent of dried fabric mixed with wind and dust.

She walked over to the edge of the terrace where there were no clothes, just an open space with cracked concrete and the view of treetops swaying below.

Without a word, she sat down in the bench there.

Slowly, she opened the box in her lap.
Steam curled upward—fresh, warm dumplings.

She picked one up with her fingers and took a small bite.

She didn’t even know he had followed her all the way.

But he had.

Levi stood near the doorway, leaning against the frame, arms crossed.
Saying nothing.

He just watched her.
The breeze ruffled his hair ever so slightly. His expression unreadable, but his eyes were locked on her—unblinking.

She sat cross-legged now, eyes staring out into the sky, quietly chewing the food the old man had given her. She didn’t glance at him. Maybe she didn’t know. Maybe she pretended not to know.

Levi felt something stir in his chest.

She looked peaceful.

Still pale, still tired, but not broken.
Just... quiet.

He didn’t speak.
He wouldn’t ruin this.

Maybe he was afraid that one word would shatter whatever delicate calm surrounded them.
Or maybe, deep down, he simply didn’t know what to say.

So he watched.

And she sat.

And in that moment—the chaos, the past, the confusion—it all slowed.

Two people.
One terrace.
A box of dumplings.
And a silence that said more than any words could.

Author’s POV

She ate every last dumpling in the box.

Slowly. Silently. One by one.

Not because she was starving—
But because chewing gave her something to focus on.
Something to do with her hands, her thoughts, her eyes.

All the while, she felt him.

Levi.

Still standing. Still watching.
He hadn't moved from the terrace doorway. His stare never wavered—not even once.

The soft night breeze drifted between them, brushing against their clothes, gently shifting Petra’s hair across her face. But she didn’t tuck it away. She didn’t look back.

She knew he was there.

And yet—she couldn’t find the courage to meet his gaze.

Her fingers clutched the now-empty box in her lap. Her shoulders still. Her breath shallow.

Then—

Footsteps.

Quiet. Deliberate.
Getting closer.

He was moving.

Levi had stepped away from the doorway.
Not in a rush. Not hesitantly.
But with a kind of calm certainty that somehow made her chest tighten.

Her fingers froze around the box.

She didn’t look up.

She heard him stop beside her.

Right there. Close.
His shadow fell beside hers on the terrace floor.

For a second, the only sound between them was the wind brushing against the clothesline ropes above.

Then—

“...You really ate all of it,” Levi said quietly.

His voice was low. Almost too soft for someone like him.

Petra blinked. Her eyes dropped to the now-empty paper container.

A tiny laugh, barely a sound, escaped her throat.

“I... didn’t mean to,” she replied, still not looking at him. “They were warm. I didn’t want them to go to waste.”

There was a pause. Then a quiet, almost dry hum from Levi.

“Tch. Greedy.”

But the tone didn’t match the word.
There was no sharpness.
Just warmth. Dry and subtle—but real.

Petra finally tilted her head slightly toward him, not quite meeting his eyes.
“You want one?” she asked, softly, with a faint smile. “Too bad. I didn’t save any.”

Levi stood silent for a moment.

Then:
“I didn’t come for dumplings.”

Petra's breath caught faintly in her throat.

Finally, she looked up.

Their eyes met.

The breeze quieted. Time slowed.

He didn’t say anything more.
Not yet.

But in that look—steady, unblinking, and impossibly soft—was everything he’d been carrying.

And for the first time, Petra didn’t feel the need to look away.

Author’s POV

Levi sat beside her.

Really close.

His presence was solid, quiet, and heavy like the weight of a sword resting at your side. But there was no warmth in his posture—not outwardly. His arms were crossed, his eyes on the horizon.

Petra didn’t move or speak right away. She could feel the tension in the space between them. The kind that came not from danger, but from unspoken things Levi refused to name.

Finally, she said softly, “It’s getting colder these days.”

He didn’t look at her.
“Hm. That’s what happens when it’s almost winter.”

She smiled faintly. “That’s your way of agreeing?”

“Tch. I’m just stating facts.”

Petra let out a quiet breath, amused. “You always do that. Never just say ‘yeah, I know.’ Always like—‘obviously,’ ‘hm or some grumble.”

“That supposed to be a complaint?”

“No. Just… an observation.”

He glanced at her now, briefly. Then back ahead. “People who talk too much end up regretting what they say.”

Petra didn’t flinch. She knew this side of him. It didn’t scare her.

“Maybe. But people who say nothing… sometimes regret even more.”

Silence.

He didn’t reply, but his jaw flexed—just barely.

She tilted her head toward him slightly. “You came all the way up here just to say nothing?”

Levi shrugged. “Didn’t feel like hearing Hange scream about cockreaches in the hallway again.”

Petra laughed softly. “You’re such a liar.”

He didn’t answer that.

They sat in the quiet again. The wind tugged at the ends of her hair, and his cloak ruffled faintly in the breeze.

“Thanks for not walking away,” she said after a while.

“I could still leave.”

She looked at him. “But you won’t.”

He didn’t respond, but he didn’t stand up either.

And in Levi’s language—that meant everything

Suddenly—without thinking—
Petra reached out and grabbed his hand.

It wasn’t dramatic.
Just quiet and certain.

Her smaller fingers curled gently around his gloved ones, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

Levi stiffened.

For a split second, his body tensed, like he’d been struck.
No one touched him like that.
Not without reason. Not without permission.

He looked down at their hands, then at her—his expression unreadable, his voice sharp.

“…What are you doing?”

Petra didn’t flinch.

“I don’t know,” she said honestly. “I just felt like doing it.”

Levi’s jaw clenched slightly. He didn’t pull away, but he didn’t soften either.

“Tch. Don’t go touching people like that. You don’t know what kind of reaction you’ll get.”

“I know what kind of reaction I’m getting right now,” she replied calmly.

He glanced at her—eyes narrow, guarded.

“And you’re still holding on?”

She smiled, just a little. “Yes.”

He looked away again, clearly annoyed—but more with himself than her.

“…People get too comfortable too fast,” he muttered. “They think things mean more than they do.”

Petra’s fingers tightened gently around his. “Maybe. Or maybe they’re just trying not to feel alone.”

Levi didn’t speak.

The wind blew across the terrace again, tousling his hair.

He didn’t squeeze her hand back.
But he didn’t let go either.

And for Petra, that was more than enough.

The night stretched quietly over them, stars starting to blink into the sky.

Levi still hadn’t pulled his hand away.
He didn’t grip hers, didn’t show any affection.
But he also didn’t complain again. He just sat there, the perfect image of stiff, quiet reluctance.

Petra glanced at their joined hands and smirked softly.

“…You’re really not gonna say anything else?”

Levi gave her a sidelong glance. “Didn’t realize I was supposed to narrate holding hands.”

She laughed under her breath. “You didn’t even blink when I grabbed it. Just froze like someone unplugged your brain.”

“Tch.”

She tilted her head, her tone playful. “It’s almost like you’ve never held someone’s hand before.”

He didn’t reply.

Petra grinned. “Wait—seriously?”

Levi’s tone was flat. “What do you want me to say? ‘Thanks for the touching experience’?”

She covered her mouth to hide her laugh. “Oh my god. You sound like your texts.”

That made him glance at her again, eyebrow twitching. “…What?”

“You know what I mean.” She turned fully toward him now, still holding his hand, her voice light. “‘Acknowledged.’ ‘Report.’ ‘Understood.’ You text like you’re giving orders to a wall.”

“That’s because half the people I text are walls.”

Petra giggled, her thumb brushing slightly against the back of his glove. “It’s honestly impressive how cold one man can sound in two-word messages.”

He sighed, dryly. “Maybe people would listen the first time if I added emojis.”

“Please do.” She was smiling fully now. “Imagine getting a text from Captain Levi like: ‘Clean the hallway. 💀🧼’.”

His nose twitched in quiet irritation. “I’d rather burn my phone.”

“That’s a shame,” she said dramatically. “You’re wasting so much potential. Think how effective you'd be if you sent death threats with a smiley face.”

He stared at her. “You’re really enjoying this.”

“Mmhm.”

He exhaled slowly through his nose, then looked away again. “If this is what happens when someone holds my hand, I should’ve worn gloves thicker than this.”

“You are wearing gloves.”

“Exactly.”

She laughed again, and the sound cut through the night air like a soft bell.

And though Levi didn’t smile—he didn’t need to—
He didn’t move away. He didn’t shut her down.
He just sat there, enduring her teasing like it was… tolerable.

Maybe even welcome.

After a moment, Petra’s voice softened.
Still playful, but quieter.

“…You don’t have to talk a lot, you know. I don’t mind the silence.”

He looked at her again—this time a little longer.

“I know,” he said simply.

And it wasn’t cold. Not really.
Just honest.

Petra gave his hand a small squeeze. “Still gonna make fun of your texting though.

Levi rolled his eyes. “Try it again, and I’ll assign you to clean this dmoritory for the six months by telling the warden.”

Petra smirked. “So you admit you’d text me?”

He didn’t answer.

But this time—he squeezed her hand back. Just once.

Author’s POV

Petra smiled quietly at his last actiom—eyes soft, laughter fading into something warmer.

Then, slowly, without asking, she leaned her head against his shoulder.

No hesitation. No apology.
Just quiet trust.

Levi froze. Again.

His spine straightened. His breath paused for half a second.

He looked down slightly—not moving his head—like the weight on his shoulder was unfamiliar, like someone had set something fragile there and told him not to break it.

“…What are you doing now?” he asked flatly.

Petra didn’t open her eyes. “You already asked that about the hand thing. You need a new line.”

“Tch.”

“I’m resting,” she said simply. “You’re surprisingly solid. Like a stone bench.”

“Comforting.”

She grinned. “A very clean stone bench.”

He let out a quiet sigh, clearly resisting the urge to shift away.
“You’re not worried someone’ll see us?”

“Not really.” She shrugged slightly against him. “It’s dark. And most of them are too scared to look directly at you anyway.”

He glanced sideways at her. “Smart people.”

Petra smiled again, keeping her head where it was. “You know, you pretend to hate this kind of thing. But you haven’t moved once.”

“I’m being polite,” he muttered.

“Mhm. Is that what this is? Politeness?”

She didn’t push further. She didn’t need to.
She knew he didn’t do this for just anyone.

There was a long pause.

Then Levi spoke again, voice low and matter-of-fact:

“…Your hair’s in my face.”

Petra blinked. “Oh—sorry.”

He didn’t actually move.

“…It’s fine.”

She tilted her head slightly up to look at him. “You sure?”

Levi didn’t look down. His eyes stayed forward.

“If it wasn’t, you’d already be halfway across the roof.”

Petra chuckled softly, heart settling in her chest.

They sat in silence again. The stars above, the breeze light, their hands still gently linked.
And Petra’s head on his shoulder, against the one man who swore he didn’t need anyone—
Yet stayed right there.

Still.
Still.
Still.

---
Author’s POV

The terrace was quiet except for the faint rustling of wind through the trees. Petra remained still, her head resting on Levi’s shoulder, and he remained exactly where he was—tense, unmoving, but not pulling away.

Levi didn’t do comfort.
He didn’t do closeness.
But here he was—letting her stay.

After a moment, Petra’s voice broke the silence again, soft but teasing.

“You ever gonna say anything nice to me?”

Levi gave her a flat glance. “I haven’t insulted you in ten minutes. That’s the nicest I’ve ever been.”

Petra grinned against his shoulder. “Wow. I feel so special.”

“You should.”

She laughed lightly, then looked up at the stars. “You really don’t know how to give compliments, do you?”

“I’m a soldier,” he replied dryly. “Not a poet.”

“Soldiers can say kind things too.”

Levi’s voice was quiet but sharp. “Kind things don’t change reality.”

She turned slightly to look up at him. “What’s the reality?”

He hesitated just a breath. Then:
“You’ll leave here eventually. Go back to school. Or somewhere else. Live whatever normal life you can get.”

Petra blinked. “And you?”

“I’ll still be cleaning up other people’s messes.”

There was no bitterness in his voice. Just calm acceptance.

Petra looked at him more intently now. “You talk like your future is already written.”

“It is,” Levi said. “For people like me, it doesn’t change.”

“And people like me?”

He looked at her finally. His expression was still unreadable.

“…People like you should run while you still can.”

The words hit harder than she expected. But Petra didn’t move.

Instead, she asked softly, “Is that what you’re doing? Pushing people away before they can leave you?”

Levi didn’t answer.

He didn’t need to.

Petra’s hand gently squeezed his again, grounding the silence between them.

“You’re not as cold as you pretend to be, you know,” she whispered.

“Tch. Don’t romanticize it.”

“I’m not.” She smiled slightly. “I just… notice things.”

Levi stared ahead again, jaw tight.

“…Then maybe stop noticing so much.”

Petra chuckled under her breath. “No promises.”

And still—he didn’t move.
Still—he let her stay.

Author’s POV

Petra lifted her head from Levi’s shoulder, slowly pulling away from him. She stood up from the bench where they sat, stretching slightly as her eyes looked up toward the night sky.

“You know it’s gonna rain, right?”

Levi tilted his head slightly, squinting toward the horizon. “What?”

She pointed upward. “Clouds covered the moon and stars. Look.”

He followed her gaze—and sure enough, the once-clear sky had turned an ominous gray, blotting out the stars completely.

And then—
without warning—
the sky opened up.

A downpour.

Rain came crashing down hard and sudden, soaking the terrace in seconds.

“Tch—damn it,” Levi muttered as he instantly moved toward the stairwell door, disappearing under the covering without hesitation.

Petra just stood there.

Face tilted slightly upward, arms loose at her sides, letting the water soak through her clothes. Her hair clung to her cheeks, her shirt pressed to her skin. She looked like she was breathing for the first time in days.

Behind her, from the shelter, a cold voice barked:

“Oi. Brat. Get inside.”

Petra didn’t even look back.

“No?” she called. “Captain Clean Freak just ran inside like a cat in a thunderstorm.”

There was a pause. Then—

Footsteps. Fast. Heavy.

And suddenly Levi was back in the rain.

Soaked.

He marched up to her, rain dripping from his bangs, jaw tight with irritation. Without a word, he grabbed her wrist—not harshly, but firmly—and started dragging her toward the stairs.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” he snapped.

Petra stumbled behind him. “Hey—!”

“You wanna get sick?”

“I’m not made of paper.”

“You’re acting like you’re made of airheadedness.”

Petra laughed, coughing through the rain. “That’s not a word, Captain.”

He stopped abruptly. Turned.

And gave her the most disgusted glare he could manage.
Water trailed down his face, mixing with the shadows beneath his tired eyes.

“You think this is funny?”

Petra blinked, still half-laughing, half-shivering. “A little.”

His tone dropped. Flat. Cold.

“You almost died last week.”

The air changed.

She fell quiet. Her smile faded. The rain was the only sound between them.

“I know,” she said softly.

Levi looked at her—really looked. Then he let go of her wrist.

“Then stop acting like nothing matters.”

Petra didn’t reply for a second. She just stared at him.

“You’re dripping,” she finally said, voice small.

“Tch. Because someone decided to pretend she’s in a drama film.”

“I wasn’t pretending anything.”

Levi turned and started walking again, the water squelching under his boots.

“Get inside,” he said, without looking back.

“…Coming, Captain Clean Freak?”

He didn’t answer.

But this time—he didn’t walk too far ahead either.

---

Petra quietly walked to her room, the hall dimly lit and silent except for the soft hum of the storm outside. A few minutes later, she returned—now wearing a simple, comfortable pajama, her hair loosely tied. Levi was sitting alone on the wooden bench in the hallway, still damp from the rain, his uniform clinging to him.

Without saying much, Petra walked up and gently held out a folded towel.

"Here. Take it, Captain," she said softly.

Levi looked up at her briefly and took the towel without much expression.

"Hmm," he mumbled, beginning to dry his hair and shoulders, his movements slow but methodical.

Suddenly, the power flickered once… then went off completely. Darkness swallowed the hallway, leaving only the sound of thunder rolling in the distance.

Petra’s voice broke the silence, "Don't be afraid, Captain. It’s always like this here when it rains."

She disappeared into her room for a second, then returned holding a small oil lamp. Lighting it with practiced hands, she handed it to him. The warm glow illuminated both their faces, throwing soft shadows on the walls.

Levi took the lamp without a word, his fingers briefly brushing against hers. Petra looked at him—really looked at him—and felt a sudden tightness in her chest. He was right there, yet always distant.

She sat down next to him, silence stretching between them like a fragile thread.

"You never really talk much, do you?" she asked, trying to keep her tone light.

"No reason to," Levi answered flatly.

Petra smiled faintly, looking down at her hands. Her voice trembled slightly as she said, "I don’t know what this is, but... I feel different when you're around. I don’t expect you to say anything, but... I guess I just wanted you to know."

Levi didn’t respond immediately. He just sat there, staring into the lamp's flame. When he finally spoke, his voice was cool but quiet.

"Feelings are a distraction."

That stung more than she expected. Petra looked away, heart sinking—but she nodded.

"Maybe you're right," she whispered, trying to hide the way her eyes glistened under the lamp light. "Still... it doesn't stop them from being real."

A long silence followed. The rain outside grew heavier, matching the storm quietly brewing in both their hearts.

Levi didn’t move, but his eyes briefly shifted to her before turning back to the flame. And though he said nothing, Petra thought—just maybe—he was listening.

---

The silence between them lingered for a moment too long.

Suddenly, Levi stood up, his tone distant.

"Go and sleep. It's already late," he said flatly, avoiding her eyes. "I'm going to the ground floor. Everyone's there."

Petra froze for a second, the warmth in her chest instantly replaced by a hollow ache. The way he said it—like nothing just happened between them—like her words meant nothing.

"Hmm," she replied softly, masking the sadness behind a faint smile.

---

Chapter Text

The days had been going okay things were finally starting to get better. College had started again, bringing a sense of routine back to life.

It was a quiet night when Petra was returning from work. She walked alone, just her thoughts for company. Her mind drifted through the events of the past week everything that had happened, everything she still hadn't fully processed.

Then, out of nowhere, she tripped on something. The pavement rushed up to meet her, and she hit the ground hard. A sting bloomed across her jaw, and when she touched it, her fingers came away slightly bloody.

Typical Petra,always finding new ways to get into trouble. Clumsy to a fault.
But she didn’t make a fuss. Just wiped her jaw, pushed herself up, and kept walking. Still on the main road. Still moving forward.
It only took ten minutes to walk from her workplace to the dorm. But it had already been fifteen, and there was still no sign of it. That’s when she realized she’d taken a wrong turn. She facepalmed, frustrated thoughts had distracted her and led her the wrong way.

Glancing around, she took in her surroundings. The area wasn’t exactly dangerous, but it wasn’t the safest either. Still, there was something familiar about it. A well-known restaurant stood nearby one that had made this street somewhat famous. She stopped and stared at it for a moment, unsure whether to keep walking or take a breath.

She stared at the restaurant for a while, caught in the golden glow of its lights, the hum of quiet chatter, and the tempting aroma that drifted from the open windows. It felt warm, lively—so unlike her long walk alone.

Just as she took a step to leave, a voice rang out from across the street.

"Petraaa!"

She stopped, frozen mid-step.

That voice.

She turned slowly to see Hange-san, waving wildly with both arms, standing in front of the restaurant.

"Come here, girl!" Hange called again with a grin.

Petra hesitated, then jogged over, brushing her damp hair out of her face. “Hange-san… I didn’t expect to see you here.”

Hange tilted her head. “And I didn’t expect to see you wandering around like a lost kitten.”

“I… took a wrong turn,” Petra admitted, slightly embarrassed. “I was just heading back to the dorm.”

As she spoke, Hange’s eyes narrowed—not from suspicion, but concern. Her smile faded slightly.

“Hey… what’s that?” Hange gently touched Petra’s chin and turned her face toward the light. Her fingers lightly brushed a faint bruise on Petra’s jaw—almost faded, but still there.

Petra stiffened. “It’s nothing. I just fell on street”

She looked at her for a second longer, eyes serious. Then a sigh. “Tch. You’re still smiling like nothing happened.”

Before Petra could answer, another presence made itself known—quiet and still.

She followed Hange’s glance toward the entrance of the restaurant.

Levi was there.

Leaning slightly against the wall, arms folded, unreadable eyes resting on Petra. His gaze dipped briefly to the bruise on her face before flicking back up to meet hers. No expression. Just silence.

Petra's breath caught for half a second. She quickly looked away.

“I should go,” she said softly.

“What? Already?” Hange blinked. “We were just about to drag Levi in for dessert. Stay five minutes. You need something sweet.”

Petra shook her head, her smile strained but polite. “I can’t. The dorm gates are strict about closing time. If I’m late, they’ll lock me out.”

Hange sighed dramatically. “Fine, fine. But next time, no excuses.”

Petra nodded quickly, sparing one last glance toward Levi—who hadn’t moved. His eyes, however, followed her the whole way as she turned and walked back toward the quieter end of the street.

Once she disappeared into the shadows, Hange looked back at Levi and muttered, half-joking, half-serious:
“You’re gonna let her walk off like that?”

Levi didn’t answer.

But his jaw had tightened slightly.

Petra walked quickly, the dorm still a few streets away. She heard footsteps behind her and turned.

Levi.

He walked at a steady pace, hands in his pockets, eyes cold and unreadable.

“Captain…?” she asked, surprised. “Are you… coming with me?”

“Hange made me,” he said flatly. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

Petra blinked. “Oh…”

They walked side by side, the space between them more than physical. She tried to offer a smile.

“You didn’t have to. I’m okay, really.”

“Good. Then stop talking.”

Petra’s smile faltered. She let out a nervous laugh. “You’re as direct as ever.”

He didn’t answer.

“I haven’t seen you in a while,” she tried again.

“I don’t waste time on people.”

That one hit.

Her footsteps slowed just slightly. “You… saw my face, right?”

“Tch. You think I didn’t notice that bruise? I’m not an idiot.”

“It’s not a big deal…”

“Then why bring it up?”

Petra looked down. Her voice was softer now. “I just thought maybe you’d… ask.”

“Why the hell would I? You said you’re fine. End of story.”

Her breath caught. She kept walking, but her eyes stung.

“You’re cold,” she murmured, barely audible.

“If that’s all, leave me the hell alone,” Levi said without even glancing at her. “I didn’t sign up for small talk or pity.”

She stopped walking.

He didn’t.

Her voice trembled. “That’s not what I meant.”

Levi kept moving, didn’t pause, didn’t turn. “Yeah, well. I don’t have time to care what you meant.”

And then silence.

Petra stood still, her heart twisting painfully in her chest. The warmth in her chest had gone. She watched him walk farther and farther away, swallowed by the dark.

She looked down at her hands, clenched them tight.

“…You didn’t even ask if I was okay.”

But the wind carried her words away.

And Levi never looked back.

Levi pov

He’d heard her.

“You didn’t even ask if I was okay.”

But he didn’t stop.

Couldn’t.

The day had drained him. Every damn thing had gone wrong, and then Hange shoved this on him.

He hadn’t meant to take it out on her.

But he had.

He saw the way she looked at him—hopeful, then hurt. And still, he said nothing.

He clicked his tongue and looked away from the streetlight.

“…Idiot,” he muttered.

Quiet.

To himself.

And he kept walking.

Petra walked the rest of the way alone.

The street felt heavier now, quieter somehow.

Levi’s words echoed in her head. Not the exact ones — just the tone. Cold. Dismissive. Like she hadn’t mattered at all.

She tried to push it away, tried to focus on getting back before curfew.

But the silence clung to her.

“Didn’t ask.”
“If that’s all, go back alone.”

She reached the dorm gate, hand on the cold metal bar. Her fingers lingered there.

She had been so happy to see him. Even a little hopeful.

But now...

She looked down, exhaled slowly. Her throat ached. Her eyes burned.

She wanted to cry.

But she didn’t.

She just stood there for a moment longer, letting the wind sting her face, like maybe it could numb whatever this feeling was.

Then she stepped inside.

And said nothing to anyone.

~

A few days had passed. Everything was unusually peaceful.

Petra had grown busy—really busy. Her days were a blur of college work, part-time shifts, and late-night study sessions. Life felt full, hectic even, but it kept her grounded. In a way, the chaos was a welcome distraction.

It was a quiet evening. Petra had a rare day off from the convenience store and was enjoying the stillness. She sat near the window in the dorm’s room, watching the wind rustle the trees outside.

Her mind, unoccupied for once, began to wander.

She thought about her stepfather and younger brother.

She didn’t know where they were now. Or what they were doing. They had disappeared from her life after that incident. She had escaped—barely—but they were still out there. And as much as she told herself she was safe, a part of her still wondered if they’d come back one day.

They weren’t like other people. Everyone around her tried to make excuses for them—They’re just troubled, they’d say. They didn’t mean harm. But Petra knew better.

They were dangerous. Always had been.

Sometimes she still had nightmares—of doors opening in the middle of the night, of being trapped again. Back then, she didn’t have the courage to run. She didn’t even know how. Everything spiraled until her accident. After that, it was like they vanished into thin air.

She never knew if they'd return.

But she was safe now. She reminded herself of that.

Suddenly, a crackling voice came from the hallway intercom.

> “Petra Ral, you’ve got a call. Come to the reception in the next three minutes or we’ll hang up!”

Petra blinked in surprise.

A call?

She didn’t have a phone. She always borrowed Historia’s when she needed to call someone or sometimes Sasha’s, depending on who was around. But hardly anyone ever called her.

And no one ever called the dorm’s landline.

She stood up slowly, confused. The only person she ever expected a call from was Sasha, and even she usually contacted Petra through Historia’s phone.

Still, something told her to go.

With a small frown and growing curiosity, she left the common room and made her way to the front desk.

She got there just under three minutes

Petra smiled gently at the receptionist and took the receiver from her.

“Hello?” she said, a bit unsure.

An elderly voice came through, warm and familiar.

> “Hey, Petra.”

Her eyes widened in surprise, then immediately softened.

“Granny Lise!” she almost gasped. “How are you? How’s your health? Did your joints get better? And the cough—did it go away?”

> “Baby Petra, slow down,” Lise chuckled softly. “I’m fine, I promise. The joints still creak, but that’s old age for you. I’ve been taking my medicine and even walking a bit in the evenings.”

Petra let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. “That’s a relief... I missed you so much. I’m sorry I didn’t call. I lost my phone, and life’s been so busy.”

> “I figured, sweetheart. That’s why I called. I just couldn’t wait any longer—I missed hearing your voice.”

“I missed you too, Granny.”

> “How are you, though? Are you eating well? Studying okay?”

“I’m managing. It’s been hectic, but I’m okay.” She hesitated for a second, then asked carefully, “Granny... did anything strange happen lately? Like has anyone been asking about me?”

Lise’s tone changed slightly. Gentle, but serious.

> “Mrs. Yan, the neighbor? She said she might’ve seen your stepfather near the station last week. Just passing through, but asking too many questions.”

Petra’s breath caught.

> “Don’t worry, baby,” Lise added quickly. “No one knows where you are. And even if they did, they won’t get through me. You’re safe now. You hear me?”

“I know… thank you, Granny. I just… I don’t ever want to go back to that again.”

> “And you won’t. You’re building a better life now.”

Petra nodded to herself, trying to let the reassurance settle in.

> “Now,” Lise continued, shifting the tone to something warmer, “I called for another reason. Something a little serious, but happy.”

“Oh?”

> “I was planning to go away for the weekend. Just a little trip to the countryside. And it reminded me of the last time we went together. I missed that, missed you. So I wanted to ask—would you like to come with me this week?”

Petra’s eyes lit up.

> “And,” Lise added with a teasing smile in her voice, “Eren will be joining us too.”

Suddenly, Petra’s heart was full of memory.

Weekends with Granny Lise. Long train rides to her quiet hometown. The garden filled with sunflowers. Eren, three years younger, always following her around and trying to keep up. Her mother, letting her go just to escape the chaos at home. The shouting, the tension. But in Lise’s home, everything was peaceful.

“I’d love to come,” Petra said without hesitation. “I’m actually free this week.”
Evengthough she had assignments ,still she agreed without hesitation

> “Wonderful! I’ll pick you up Wednesday evening, alright?”

“Okay, Granny.”

Just then, the receptionist called out.

> “Petra! Your ten minutes are almost up!”

Petra sighed. “Granny, I have to hang up. Dorm rules…”

> “I know, baby. Take care of yourself, alright?”

“I will. Love you.”

> “Love you too.”

She gently placed the receiver back on the hook. Her fingers brushed against the locket around her neck—the one Granny Lise had given her during their last visit. She held it for a moment, and a tender smile crossed her face.

As she stood there, the weight of memories gently settled over her—her mother’s tired smile, Eren’s bright laughter, and the quiet strength of the woman who had always been her safe place.

And for the first time in weeks, she felt something she hadn’t felt in a long while.

Hope.

Wednesday evening had come. Petra dressed in comfortable clothes; it was nearly 5 p.m., and the sun was beginning to set. The sky glowed a deep orange, spreading its warm light everywhere.

She walked to the front gate of the dorm and lingered there for a moment, enjoying the view. Suddenly, a car pulled up in front of her.

“Heyy, Granny Lise!” Petra said happily as she got into the back seat of the cab.

“How are you doing, baby? You’ve changed so much,” Granny Lise said warmly. “You’ve gained some weight—really!”

“Awww, thank you, Granny,” Petra replied, smiling at her.

They chatted cheerfully as the car drove off, catching up on stories and memories.

While Petra and Granny Lise were chatting, their conversation drifted to memories of the past. Out of nowhere, Petra asked about her stepfather and stepbrother.

“Them? Like I said, Mrs. Yan saw him at the station recently,” Granny Lise replied. “But don’t be afraid, you’re safe for now. He’s not going to find you. Still, stay alert and be careful of your surroundings.”

“Okay, Granny,” Petra said, a little tense. Deep down, she knew—someday, he would come back.

Suddenly, Granny Lise said something that snapped Petra out of her thoughts.

“Han—your stepbrother—he’s always drunk and causing problems. That boy’s trouble. Honestly, he’s even more dangerous than your dad. So like I said, be careful.”

“Okay, Granny,” Petra replied, managing a small smile.

“How is Eren doing?” she asked, changing the topic.

“Oh? He’s in his final year of high school now. That boy is still stubborn, but he’s kind,” Granny said with a soft chuckle.

Petra’s eyes softened as she thought about him. The first time she saw Eren, he was just a baby—maybe 3 or 4 yrs old—hugged his mother’s arms beside Granny Lise. After his mother passed away, Granny took care of him. He lived with her for two years before going back to his own home. His family preferred it that way, but Granny Lise never stopped loving him.

Eren had always been kind, though headstrong. He was like a little brother to Petra. Thinking about him brought back a wave of childhood memories. They had played almost every game together, and he had always treated her with respect.

It had been so long since she’d seen him.

They reached the house a little after 11 PM. Granny Lise quietly walked inside, moving through the familiar space as if she never left.

Petra paused at the entrance, taking in the old place. So many memories lingered here — it felt like stepping into a piece of her past.

Just then, someone stepped out of the house.

It was Eren.

He froze the moment he saw her. She did too — but then both of them broke into wide smiles and ran toward each other, pulling into a tight hug.

For a few seconds, they said nothing. Just held on.

“Long time no see, Yeager Bomb,” Petra laughed, using the silly nickname he had back then.

“Yeah, horseface,” Eren shot back with a grin.

Petra smacked him lightly on the head in a playful way. “Hey!”

She stepped back to look at him. “Wow, Eren… you’ve grown so much,” she said, patting his head like an older sister.

“Yeah, but you’ve shrunk,” he teased. “I swear I used to be shorter than you.”

“Ugh, shut up! I’m still older than you, remember that.”

Eren started mimicking her mock-angry tone and exaggerated gestures.

“Hyy stop it before I snap your neck!” Petra warned, trying to hold back a laugh.

“Oh no, I’m terrified,” Eren said with a dramatic shiver, laughing.

They chuckled together before Petra added, “It’s been so long since we met.”

“Yeah… so long,” Eren said softly, his tone a little more serious now.

“How’s school going?” she asked.

“It’s okay. Still hard to study, though,” he said with a sigh.

“Yeah, Yeager Bomb,” Petra grinned. “How’s Mikasa? Is she still with you?”

“Yup. Still protecting me like I’m a baby,” he said, rolling his eyes fondly.

“That’s probably the only reason you’re still standing in front of me,” Petra laughed. “Without her, you’d have gotten yourself killed, troublemaker.”

“Don’t make me say things about you, horseface,” Eren fired back with a smirk.

They burst into laughter again, the years between them disappearing in moments.

After a bit more teasing, they finally went inside — the warmth of the home wrapping around them like the good old days.

The night went away so fast.
Fast—like the snap of a finger.

Eren.
He was studying at the high school in town. He had come home just to see Granny and spend some time with them.
Even though he was still a student, Eren was working too.
A strong kid—really strong, in every sense.

Morning arrived.
Petra freshened up and walked into the kitchen, only to find Granny already preparing breakfast.

She froze for a second, heart softening as memories stirred inside her.
Granny had always done this—waking up early, making something delicious, and calling them over to taste little bites, even before the food was fully ready.

A small smile formed on Petra’s lips.
She walked over and sat down at the kitchen counter.

They chatted gently, the warmth of the morning settling in around them.

A moment later, Eren shuffled into the kitchen, eyes heavy with sleep.

“Heyyy, Yeager bomb! Go brush your teeth!” Petra teased, grinning.

“Yeah, yeah…” Eren muttered, half-asleep, turning back toward his room to freshen up.

Time went by as they finished breakfast.
After clearing the table and helping Granny with the dishes, Petra and Eren decided to head out to the beach nearby.

Granny smiled as she saw them getting ready. “Go on, have fun,” she said, waving them off. “I’ll stay home and rest.”

Eren wheeled out his motorbike. Petra, already dressed for the outing, came out with sunglasses in hand.

“Alright, let’s go—” she began, but Eren cut her off, holding out a helmet.

“Hey, sis. Wear the helmet,” he said, raising an eyebrow. “Don’t make me lecture you like an old man.”

Petra smirked. “Yes, sir, Commander Yeager,” she saluted jokingly before putting it on. “Happy now?”

“Very,” Eren grinned as he started the engine. “Hold on tight!”

They sped off, the wind rushing past them, laughter and excitement trailing behind.

The motorbike rolled to a stop near the sandy edge of the beach. Eren turned off the engine and stretched his arms with a loud yawn.

“Finally!” he said. “My ears are still ringing from your constant singing.”

Petra removed her helmet and gave him a light smack on the shoulder. “Excuse me? That was quality entertainment.”

“If off-key screeching is your idea of entertainment, then sure.”

Petra gasped. “Wow. The disrespect. I carried you around as a baby, and this is how you repay me?”

Eren chuckled, hopping off the bike. “Pretty sure I was carrying you today. I drove, remember?”

“Only because Granny banned me from the bike after I nearly drove into a street vendor.”

“Exactly. So hush and follow the driver’s rules—no attitude.”

Petra rolled her eyes but smiled. “You’ve grown too bold, little Yeager.”

He grinned. “Maybe I just got tired of being bossed around by a certain someone.”

She leaned close with a teasing smirk. “You love it. Admit it.”

Eren laughed but didn’t answer. He kicked off his shoes and ran toward the water. “Last one to the ocean is a boiled egg!”

Petra shouted behind him, “That doesn’t even make sense!” but followed, running after him barefoot through the warm sand.

They splashed into the waves, laughing as water soaked their clothes.

“Hey!” Eren yelled when Petra flung a handful of water straight into his face. “Unfair!”

“All’s fair in water wars!” she said, ducking as he tried to splash her back.

The waves rolled around them as they darted in and out of the surf, like kids again. Petra fell into the shallow water, laughing so hard she couldn’t speak.

Eren stood over her, hands on his hips. “Victory! The mighty warrior Yeager conquers the sea!”

She threw a wet clump of sand at his leg. “You’re still just a soggy little brother.”

They both sat down as the tide lapped at their feet.

“You know,” Eren said, looking around, “I kinda missed this. Us just... being silly.”

Petra smiled, brushing wet strands of hair from her face. “Me too. We’re always so busy trying to be grown-ups.”

“Do we have to be grown-ups?” he asked.

She leaned back on her elbows, gazing at the sky. “Not right now. Right now we can just be... siblings.”

“Deal,” Eren said.

Then, after a pause, he added, “But I’m still not admitting you won that splash fight.”

Petra smirked. “That's fine. The ocean knows. And so do your soggy clothes.”

They both burst into laughter again, the kind that bubbles up from somewhere deep and familiar. The sea kept rolling, as if it, too, was smiling along with them.

They played in the water so wildly, splashing, chasing, and falling over each other, that for a moment—it actually felt like the sea might swallow them whole.

“Petra! I can’t see! You dumped water in my eyes!” Eren shouted, flailing as a wave knocked him sideways.

“That wasn’t me, that was the ocean, genius!” Petra laughed, half-swimming, half-stumbling as another wave crashed into her.

They both tumbled over each other, coughing, laughing, and trying to stand in the shallow surf.

“I swear,” Eren panted, hair stuck to his face, “this is how we die. Right here. Drowned by fun.”

Petra pushed her soaked bangs back and looked at him—and burst into laughter.

“Eren!” she howled, pointing at him. “You look like a wet chicken!”

He looked down at himself: shirt clinging, shorts heavy, sand stuck to his legs. “Speak for yourself! You look like a sea monster that forgot to comb her hair.”

Petra flicked water at him. “Still the rudest little brother.”

They finally stumbled out of the waves, completely drenched, and collapsed on the soft sand. Petra lay back with a sigh, arms spread wide, breathing in the salty air.

Eren dropped beside her, still grinning. “That was insane.”

“Insanely fun,” she said, chuckling. “It’s been years since I laughed that hard.”

They sat in silence for a while, letting the sun and the breeze start to dry them off. The water sparkled in front of them, stretching far into the horizon.

Eren leaned back on his elbows. “You know… we might catch colds.”

Petra turned her head, smirking. “Worthy price for today.”

“Yeah,” he agreed quietly. “Totally worth it.”

The sun warmed their backs as their laughter faded into content silence. The waves rolled gently now, as if the ocean had played its part and was letting them rest.

Eren’s riding the bike with Petra sitting behind him. They just left the beach

Eren:
"Hey… do you remember Mikey?"

Petra: (surprised)
"Mikey? Of course I do!" (chuckles) "That kicking guy who always showed up like some ninja every time I got bullied."

Eren:
"You used to get bullied a lot, huh?"

Petra:
"Countryside parks aren’t always peaceful. The kids were rough… You tried to protect me too, remember?" (laughs) "You’d jump in with fists flying—and always lose."

Eren: (grinning)
"Hey! I was small!"

Petra: (smiling at the memory)
"And then Mikey would show up, kick their butts, and walk away like it was nothing. He was fifteen then. I must’ve been… what, nine? Ten?"

Eren:
"Yeah. He looked scary to others, but he really had your back."

Petra:
"Haven’t seen him in forever though… After Mom passed, I never really came back here much."

Eren: (a little quiet)
"Do you… wanna know where Mikey is now?"

Petra: (raises an eyebrow)
"Wait—you know?"

Eren:
"Yeah… he’s in a gang now."

Petra: (shocked)
"What?! Mikey? Are you serious?"

Eren: (nods)
"Yeah. Not like the super dangerous kind, but still. He’s with some local crew. Rough crowd."

Petra: (processing it)
"That’s… hard to imagine. He used to protect people. Always had that quiet strength." (pauses) "But I guess life happens."

Eren: (after a beat)
"You know… he used to like you."

Petra: (blinks)
"What?! Mikey liked me?"

Eren: (grinning)
"Yup. Had a huge crush on you. Everyone knew except you."

Petra: (laughs awkwardly)
"That’s so weird… I always thought of him like an older brother."
(softly) "But still, it’s sweet in a way. Not like we’ll ever bump into him again."

[They ride in silence for a few seconds. Wind in their faces. Then—]

Eren: (casually)
"So… do you have a boyfriend? Or a crush?"

Petra: (caught off guard)
"What?!" (laughs nervously) "No! Why would you ask that all of a sudden?"

Eren: (smirking)
"I dunno… just curious."

Petra:
"Well, I don’t have a boyfriend. And I don’t have a crush either."

Eren: (teasingly, glancing back slightly)
"You’re being really sus right now."

Petra: (playfully hits his shoulder)
"Just ride the bike, Eren."

Eren: (grinning to himself)
"Alright, alright."

They reached home after the beach trip, clothes half-dry, hair still carrying the scent of the ocean. Petra opened the door to find their granny sitting in the hall, knitting a baby-blue dress, glasses halfway down her nose.

“Hi, Granny!” Petra called out, tossing her beach bag to the side.

Granny looked up, squinting. “Hey, kids... why do you both look like you got caught in a washing machine?”

“The beach was fun!” Eren laughed, running a hand through his messy hair. “You should’ve seen me hit Petra’s head with a beach ball—perfect aim!”

Petra turned instantly. “What the actual shit, Yeager bomb?!” She smacked him lightly on the back.

Eren grinned. “Shut up, horse-face!”

“Oh, it’s on!” Petra shouted, jumping on him as they both started bickering and wrestling like toddlers on the living room carpet.

Granny just watched with tired eyes, a half-smile tugging at her lips.

“Children,” she muttered under her breath, shaking her head. “Both of them are grown and still act like five-year-olds.”

After a few more chaotic seconds, Petra stood up and huffed. “Ugh, I need to change before I throw this idiot out the window.”

“I’ll help you pack your bags, horse-face!” Eren shot back, already heading to his room to change.

Later, after changing and freshening up, the two sat at the dining table where lunch was already set—warm rice, spicy curry, and fried chicken2, just the way they liked it.

“Thanks, Granny,” they said in unison before digging in.

Author POV:
The air was filled with lazy post-beach laughter, clinking spoons, and small talk—until Granny, out of nowhere, asked a question that made Petra choke on her food.

Granny casually spooned some curry onto her plate and asked, “What was the name of that guy who came with you… when you picked up stuff from your old apartment back then?”

Petra froze, her spoon mid-air.
Eren looked up. “Which guy?” he asked, already suspicious.
Petra stuttered, trying to swallow properly. “U-Uh… Captain Levi.”

Granny just nodded. “Hmm. Okay.”

Eren narrowed his eyes at her. “That’s sus, Granny. Real sus.” He glanced at Petra, who was now staring at her plate way too intensely.

Granny smiled faintly and muttered, “Didn’t say anything, just asked.”

Author POV:
Petra could feel the tips of her ears burning. Levi’s name always did that. It wasn’t just embarrassment—it was that weird, annoying flutter in her chest that came whenever someone mentioned him.

Eren leaned back in his chair, still staring.
“So... Captain Levi, huh?” he said, dragging out the name with a mischievous smirk.
Petra shot him a death glare. “Eat your food, Yeager bomb.”
“I am eating. Just also watching you squirm.”

Granny chuckled softly to herself.
She didn’t say anything more… but her knowing eyes said enough.

Author POV:
Petra went quiet. Levi’s name still lingered in the air like a stubborn shadow. Her fingers played with the edge of her spoon as an old memory came rushing in—the last time she saw him.

It hadn’t been good. Not even close.

That day…
. Angry. Distant. The air was heavy with unspoken words and cold stares. Levi had said much. He didn’t even look at her properly. Hurtful things. Like she didn't matter

Petra’s shoulders dropped, and her eyes dimmed. The smile she'd worn all morning faded. She stared into her plate, her appetite vanishing.

Eren noticed.
He wasn’t the most emotionally aware guy, but when Petra changed—he always felt it. Like the room dimmed a little with her.

“Hey,” he said suddenly, nudging her leg under the table. “Can we go to the park this evening?”

Petra blinked, looking up. “Huh?”

“The park,” Eren repeated, acting cool but watching her carefully. “It’s been a while. You, me, snacks, and that broken old swing you always fight me over.”

A tiny smile began to tug at her lips. “Really? You wanna go?”

Eren shrugged. “I mean, it’s either that or let you sit here and mope like a tragic drama heroine.”

She laughed—lightly, but real. “You jerk.”

“So is that a yes or what?”

Petra nodded. “Okay. Let’s go in the evening.”

Author POV:
Her mood shifted—still a little weighed down by the memory, but Eren’s words had lifted something. She wasn’t okay yet, not fully, but she wasn’t stuck in the memory either. Not anymore.

Eren smiled quietly and finished his food without another word.

Sometimes, you don’t need to fix someone. Just sit beside them and change the weather.

That evening...

Petra wore denim shorts and a loose white t-shirt, her short hair flowing gently with the breeze. The golden hour sun gave her skin a soft glow as she stepped out the door.

Eren was already at the gate, munching on the last of his chips. He gave her a quick glance and raised an eyebrow.

“Trying to impress someone at the park?” he teased.

Petra rolled her eyes. “Yeah. The squirrels. They judge hard.”

They started walking together, their steps in rhythm without even trying.

Author POV:
The road to the park wasn’t long, but it sat on an incline—high enough that when they walked along it, they could see the river below on their right. The sunlight danced across the water’s surface like shattered gold. Trees grew thick on either side, creating a natural frame that made the view feel almost cinematic.

The park itself was tucked ahead, slightly lower in the distance, nestled in a hollow of green where the hills curved inward like an open palm.

The air smelled fresh—dust, river breeze, and early summer heat. It was quiet except for the chirping birds and the sound of their sneakers against the asphalt.

Suddenly, the silence broke.

A pack of bikes came roaring past them from behind. Sleek, loud, and fast, the engines thundered as they zipped by in a flash—some matte black, some with bright custom paint, all moving like they belonged in a movie.

Eren stopped walking. His eyes lit up.

“Whoa…” he muttered, completely frozen in place as he watched them speed off, vanishing down the curve of the road.

Petra turned toward him with an amused expression. “You okay?”

“That was insane,” Eren said, still staring. “Did you see the one with the gold rims? Holy crap.”

“You’re acting like you just saw a celebrity.”

“I did! That was bike royalty right there.”

Petra laughed softly, brushing her hair back as the wind picked up again. “You and your dramatic reactions.”

“Say what you want, that was cool as hell.”

“Yeah,” she admitted, her smile lingering. “It kinda was.”

Author POV:
As they continued walking, Eren was still talking about engines and tires and road grip—but Petra's thoughts had begun to drift again. The view, the wind, the sound of the bikes... it made her feel like something was shifting inside.

Like maybe… this walk wasn’t just a walk.

They walked in silence now.

Eren kept talking about the bikes, half to Petra, half to himself, until they both noticed something up ahead.

All the bikes from earlier were now parked neatly along the roadside, lined up like trophies. The riders were standing around, chatting among themselves, some laughing, one tossing a bottle of water up and down.

Neither Petra nor Eren paid them much mind—until Eren slowed down.

“Wait a sec…”

Petra glanced sideways. “Don’t start again,” she said, her tone dry.

“I’m not! I just—hold on…” Eren suddenly stiffened.

A voice called out from behind them.
“Yo! Yeager? Ral?”

They both froze.

Petra’s stomach dropped. She didn’t even turn at first—her body went stiff, and her fingers instinctively curled around the strap of her bag.

Eren turned around first. “…No way.”

Petra slowly turned too, almost afraid to.

A tall figure stepped forward from the group. He pulled off his helmet—and there he was.

Mikey.

His hair was longer, messier. He looked older. The same sharp eyes, the same casual expression. But there was something different in the way he carried himself—more confident, maybe even cooler.

Petra couldn’t say a word.

Eren blinked. “MIKEY?! Bro—what the hell?”
They were really stunned to see him here
Leader of a Gang

Mikey chuckled lightly. “Didn’t expect to see you guys here.”

Petra stood frozen, mouth slightly open like she wanted to say something—but the words didn’t come.

“Petra?” Mikey tilted his head slightly.

She blinked and forced a small smile. “H-Hey…”

Author POV:
She hadn’t seen him in so long. And now he was here, looking like he belonged to a different world leather jacket, helmet in one hand, like something out of a movie.The memories came rushing back, but she didn’t know where to place them.

Why did this feel so... awkard?

Mikey smiled gently at her, not mocking, not teasing. Just... soft.

“You look... different,” he said, still watching her.

Petra rubbed the back of her neck. “You too. The whole biker gang look... suits you.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” he said.

Eren finally burst out. “Dude, how—when—why bikes?! Last time I saw you, you were kicking bullies, not engines.”

Mikey shrugged. “Things change. Guess I needed speed.”

Petra stayed quiet. Her eyes flicked to Mikey, then to the ground. She didn’t know why her chest felt tight. Maybe it was just the surprise. Knowing he is in a gang Maybe it was the fact that he still looked at her like he knew her—even though she didn’t know who she was right now.

“Where are you guys heading?” Mikey asked, sliding his helmet onto the seat behind him.

“Park,” Eren said casually. “Petra hasn’t been here for years, you know. So I thought I'd drag her back to childhood nostalgia or whatever.”

Mikey’s eyes flicked to Petra.

She didn’t meet them right away—but when she felt it, she forced a soft smile and gave a little nod.

“Sounds peaceful,” Mikey replied, voice low. Then he added, “I’ll drop you guys there. Get in.”

Eren lit up instantly. “For real?! Big bro, let’s gooo!” He practically ran to one of the spare bikes behind Mikey’s, laughing to himself.

But Petra didn’t move.

Author POV:
She stood still for a second, heart awkwardly thudding. Mikey had always been like a big brother—her protector, her shield. But now, with what she’d learned—how he’d once liked her—sitting behind him on a bike, arms around his jackets … It felt way too close.

Still, Mikey turned to her, completely calm.

“Petra. Come on—ride with me.”

She hesitated, then nodded. “O-okay.”

She climbed on slowly, settling in behind him. Her hands hovered for a second before she gently held the edge of his jacket, trying to keep some space between them.

Mikey noticed. “You’re not gonna fall off trying to keep polite distance, are you?”

She let out a small awkward laugh. “No. I just… I’m not used to this.”

“Relax,” he said, eyes forward as he pulled his gloves on. “I don’t bite.”

Author POV:
The engine roared to life under them, deep and steady. Mikey handled it like he was born to ride. The bike pulled forward, smooth and fast, and Petra tightened her grip—just a little.

Wind whipped past them, lifting her hair and stealing her breath. The road dipped slightly as they rode, the trees blurring by in streaks of green and gold. Petra felt her heartbeat match the rhythm of the engine—steady, fast, loud.

For a moment, she closed her eyes.

“Still nervous?” Mikey asked, raising his voice just enough over the wind.

“A little.”

He glanced back for half a second. “It’s just me, Petra. Same old guy.”

She didn’t reply. Because deep down, she knew that wasn’t true.

He wasn’t the same anymore.

Not just some protective older brthr.

Not when she could still remember what Eren told her—that Mikey used to like her.

“...You’ve changed,” she said quietly, almost lost in the wind.

Mikey didn’t turn around this time. But his voice was warm.

“So have you.”

The bike picked up speed again, dipping into a soft curve, heading toward the park where the past and present quietly waited to meet.

Author pov

The drive was supposed to be peaceful.

After a brutal week full of late nights, stupid requests, and zero rest, Levi didn’t want company. He especially didn’t want Hange’s kind of company — loud, nosy, and always three steps too far into things she shouldn’t touch.

But he was stuck in the car with her, heading toward some remote restaurant because the squad had decided “team bonding” was necessary. Whatever that meant.

The wind hummed through the open window. For once, Hange was quiet. Maybe the silence would last.

It didn’t.

In the distance, engines roared. Not cars — motorcycles.

Levi’s POV

He spotted them first.

A group of bikers was riding ahead, taking the same road. Some in pairs, others solo, all loud and fast. Typical.

He barely looked at them —
Until he saw her.

One of the bikes, a sleek black one, had a rider with long hair tied in a low ponytail. Behind him sat a girl. Her ginger hair unmistakable, catching bits of sunlight as it whipped in the wind.

Petra.

He didn’t flinch. Didn’t react outwardly. Just stared for a moment longer than he should’ve.

Author’s POV

Hange squinted, then suddenly jolted forward.

“Wait—wait—is that Petra?”

She pressed against the window, almost laughing. “Oh my god, it is her! Who the hell is she riding with?”

Still no answer from Levi.

Hange whistled low. “Damn. I mean… she looks kinda badass like that, doesn’t she? Total switch-up from her usual sweet vibe.”

Levi’s hands remained on the wheel, steady.

“They're going the same way we are,” Hange added, glancing ahead. “Guess we’re all headed to the same place. Huh. Small world.”

Silence.

“You’re awfully quiet, you know.”

“Tch.”

Hange smirked. “You okay there, Levi? You look like someone just spat in your drink.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Am I?” she asked, not bothering to hide the amusement in her voice. “Because you saw her and haven’t said a single damn thing since.”

“I don’t care.”

“Right,” she nodded, eyes twinkling. “Totally. You don’t care. That’s why you haven’t blinked since they passed.”

Levi didn’t respond.

“But it’s funny, isn’t it?” she went on. “How you always go weirdly stiff whenever Petra’s name comes up. Especially lately.”

“She’s not my problem.”

Hange gave a dramatic sigh. “Of course not. She’s just the girl you used to randomly show up for when she needed help. The one you always ‘coincidentally’ end up near. The one you keep at arm’s length like it means nothing.”

“I don’t have time for this.”

“Sure,” she said. “Just wondering how long you plan to pretend you don’t give a damn.”

Levi’s voice turned sharper. “I said I don’t.”

But Hange didn’t let up. She never did.

“She looked happy on that bike, you know. Comfortable. Like she trusted him.”

Levi stared straight ahead. Eyes cold. Silent.

And Hange? She just smiled.

Because she knew —
if he really didn’t care,
he wouldn’t be this quiet.

Author’s POV

The restaurant was tucked in a quiet hilltop bend, warm lights glowing through its old wooden windows. The food was better than expected. The squad had taken two tables, laughter spilling into the air like it belonged there.

And for once, Levi let it be.

He didn’t speak much. Just ate quietly, arms crossed, gaze occasionally drifting toward the door — though he’d never admit what he was waiting for.

But Petra never showed up.

No sign of the biker either.

It was as if they’d turned down a different path after all. As if what Levi saw on the road hadn’t even been real.

“She probably had other plans,” Hange had said, leaning across the table with her usual grin.
“You sure you’re not disappointed?”

He ignored her.

Dinner dragged a little. The others joked, teased, ate. Levi stayed quiet, like usual — but not like usual. His eyes stayed sharp. Almost too sharp. As if they were searching for something they weren’t sure they wanted to find.

When the plates were cleared and the night cooled, Hange suddenly clapped her hands.

“There’s a park right near here! We should go stretch a bit before heading back.”

“No,” Levi said immediately.

“Oh, come on. It’s literally two steps away.”

“No.”

But Hange and Moblit were already dragging him out, ignoring every protest like it was just background noise. And because he wasn’t in the mood to cause a scene — and maybe because a part of him was too tired to resist — he let them pull him into the darkening street.

The road curved gently toward a quiet little park, half-lit by old lamp posts, the kind with soft yellow glows and buzzing flies around them.

They walked in.

And then stopped.

Levi’s POV

He noticed her instantly.

Not because she stood out. Not because she was trying to.

But because her presence hit like a cold wave.

Petra.

She was sitting on one of the swings, legs slightly kicking like a child’s, her body relaxed. In her hand was a cone of half-melting ice cream, and she was chewing on it like it was the only thing in the world she cared about.

She wasn’t laughing. She wasn’t smiling big.

Just peaceful.

Like the quiet suited her.

Next to her, on the other swing, was a guy. Not the biker from earlier. Someone else — shorter, softer around the edges. He was also eating an ice cream cone, legs crossed at the ankles, talking to her with easy familiarity.

Levi stood still.

Watching.

The lights cast soft shadows across her face. She was nodding at something the guy said, looking thoughtful, not flustered. Not uncomfortable.

She wasn’t looking for Levi.
She hadn’t even seen him.
She didn’t even know he was there.

Author’s POV

Hange turned slowly toward Levi, like she was just waiting for his reaction.

But he didn’t give her one.

His face stayed unreadable. Not cold. Just… blank.

But inside?

Levi’s Thoughts

> First the biker. Now this.

> Is this what she does?

> Rides with strangers. Eats ice cream with strangers. Laughs with people who don’t know a damn thing about her.

> What’s she doing here? And where did the biker go?

> Why the hell does it matter?

But it did matter. More than he wanted.

He looked at the guy. Average-looking. A soft laugh. Casual slouch. Nothing threatening.

But Petra looked at him when he spoke.

Not nervously.
Not politely.
Like she wanted to.

Levi’s jaw clenched for a second. Just one beat too tight.

“Should we say hi?” Hange whispered beside him, teasing.

“No,” Levi said flatly.

“She hasn’t seen us yet.”

“I said no.”

“You sure? She looks—”

“I said drop it.”

Author’s POV

They stood there for a moment longer, watching from the shadows of the trees. Petra was still licking her ice cream, still talking quietly with the other guy, the chains of the swing creaking gently in the night breeze.

And Levi?

He turned away first.

Because if he stood there a second longer, he might’ve done something stupid.

Something like walk up.

Or ask questions he had no right to ask.

Or say things
he’d kept locked in
far too long.

Chapter Text

Petra sat on the edge of the bench, eyes fixed on nothing in particular. The sun was dipping lower, painting the sky in warm colors, but she barely noticed. Eren was beside her, quietly sipping a juice box like a kid after school, one leg swinging lazily while the other tapped against the gravel.
Even with him next to her, a strange emptiness clung to her chest.
That’s when the peace was broken—completely shattered, actually—by a familiar chaotic voice.

“Petraaa! There you are!” Hange called from a distance, waving one hand like she was at a concert. Right behind her came Moblit, looking both tired and regretful, probably for agreeing to follow her in public again.
Petra straightened up immediately.
Hange marched toward them with a wide grin and zero volume control. “How are you doing, girl? What are you even doing out here all alone?”
“I’m not alone,” Petra said, gesturing to Eren beside her. “I’m here with my brother.”
That sentence made Hange stop right in front of them and raise both brows.
“Your stepbrother?” she said dramatically, turning halfway to Moblit. “Moblit, mobilize the punch squad. We got a situation here.”
Moblit sighed. “We don’t have a punch squad, Hange.”
Petra chucked. “He’s not my stepbrother. He’s just... my mom’s friend’s son. That’s all.”
“Hmm...” Hange squinted suspiciously. “You don’t sound excited about that.”

Petra didn’t reply. She didn’t really want to go into details—and certainly not with Hange and Moblit both watching her like scientists observing a strange bug.

“Okay, okay, fine.” Hange finally relented, then turned her gaze to Eren. “And what is the name of this quiet-looking fellow next to you?”

Eren looked up mid-sip. “Eren Yeager,” he mumbled.

“Ohhh cool name, bro!” Hange grinned. “Sounds like you lead revolutions in your spare time.”

“Not really,” Eren said, already regretting showing up today.

Petra gave a tiny laugh, but her eyes had started drifting again, searching the area behind Hange and Moblit. There were a lot of people. A lot of voices. But none of them were his.

“By the way,” Hange said suddenly, smirking, “I saw you earlier. On the back of a bike. Looking like some drama queen in an action movie. Who was that, huh?”

Petra looked away a second too late.

“Oh,” she said quickly, “it was just one of my childhood friends. He gave me a lift here, that’s all.”

“Hmmmmm.” Hange leaned closer. “Childhood friend, huh? Didn’t look like just a friend. Looked like someone Levi would hate instantly.”

Moblit gave her a look. “Why would Levi hate a stranger?”

“Because it’s Levi,” Hange whispered dramatically, then turned back to Petra.
Petra tried to keep her expression calm.
But her eyes drifted again. Left, right. Searching for someone

She didn’t know why it bothered her so much. He wasn’t hers. He wasn’t obligated to be nearby. But after everything—after that quiet conversation the other day, after the way he’d watched her so closely saying harsh things—she had started to expect him.

Now, his absence felt heavy.

Petra wanted to ask . Maybe this time: Where is Levi? But Hange would definitely start teasing, and Moblit would raise an eyebrow, and Eren might even smirk—and that was just too much.

So instead, she just looked. Quietly. Secretly. Scanning every corner like she was waiting for someone she would pretend not to care about when he arrived.

He didn’t arrive.

And that silence? It was louder than the crowd.

After a little while, it started to rain lightly in that area.

Hange and Moblit decided to return to their squad members. Petra noticed them walking off in the distance, their voices blending with the sound of rain.

Eren turned to her, “We should go too. Let’s reach home before the rain gets heavier.”

She nodded silently, and the two of them started walking again.

As they passed by, Petra glanced toward Hange—she was talking with a group of military squad members. They seemed to be wrapping things up, probably heading back as well.

But even now… Petra didn’t see Levi.
Not anywhere.

Maybe he was already in one of the cars.
Maybe he left earlier.
Who knows?

Still… she looked around one more time.

She wanted to see him.
Even if just for a second.
But a part of her was scared.

Scared to meet him after the way things were left between them last time.
Scared of what she might say.
Scared of what he might not.

So she walked on, quiet, with the sound of rain and footsteps filling the silence between her and Eren.

The sky that had been dim all evening finally gave way, and rain began to fall in thick, cold sheets.

At first, it was bearable. But halfway through their walk, it became relentless. The main road they were on offered no shelter—no shop awnings, no trees, not even a bus stop.

Petra pulled her jacket tighter and groaned, “Of course it had to rain now. Perfect timing.”
Eren looked up at the dark clouds, grinning like a kid, his damp hair sticking to his forehead. “Come on, it’s not that bad! It’s just water.”
She gave him a sharp look. “Says the one wearing waterproof sneakers. These boots weren’t made for puddles.”
A loud sneeze escaped her.
“Bless you,” Eren said casually, kicking at the water like he was walking through a fountain in summer. “That’s the fourth one. You might break a record.”
“Don’t joke!” she sniffled. “I think I just sneezed out my soul.”
Eren laughed. “Is that even medically possible?”
“I’m serious!” Petra rubbed her arms for warmth. “Why do you look like you’re in a music video while I’m out here dying?”
He threw his arms out dramatically, twirling in the rain like some kind of soaked philosopher. “Because, Petra, this is freedom! The rain washes away stress. Look at it—feels like a movie!”
She blinked, wet bangs stuck to her forehead. “More like a tragedy.”
Another sneeze burst from her and she winced. Eren tried not to laugh but failed.
“You sure you’re not allergic to fun?” he teased.
“I’m allergic to rain, cold, and walking next to people who enjoy both,” she shot back, hugging herself tighter. “Why didn’t we just take the bus?”
“You said, and I quote, ‘Let’s walk, Eren, it’s refreshing.’” He mimicked her voice with exaggerated sweetness.
“Yeah, refreshing! Not suicidal!”

More rain splattered over them like buckets being dumped from the sky.

Eren reached into his bag and pulled out a packet of tissues. “Here, sneezy.”

“Oh, wow. A single tissue. How generous,” she said dryly, but took it anyway. “You better not get sick after this.”

“I never get sick,” he replied proudly. Then added with a grin, “Probably because I was raised in the rain.”

“What are you, a wild raccoon?”

He smirked. “That explains my love for trash talk.”

She rolled her eyes, but she was smiling now despite herself.

After a few more steps, Eren slowed down and glanced at her. “You okay, though? I mean, really. You're freezing.”

Petra nodded, quieter now. “Yeah… Just tired. And cold. But… I’m glad you're here.”

He looked at her for a second, surprised by her sudden softness. Then he smiled, genuine and warm despite the rain. “Same. Would’ve been boring alone.”

Petra gave a tiny laugh, the kind that showed in her eyes more than her voice. “Next time, umbrella?”

“Next time, teleportation.”

Suddenly, a car pulled up beside them with a sharp screech. The window rolled down, and a familiar voice called out.

“Kidss! Get inside! You're gonna catch pneumonia out here!” It was Hange, seated in the passenger seat, waving frantically. Moblit was behind the wheel, looking half-drenched and mildly exhausted from dealing with her energy.

“Y-yes, Hange-san!” Petra said, relieved but still shivering.

She opened the back door in a hurry and slipped inside without even glancing at who else was there. The cold air clung to her clothes, her hair stuck to her cheeks. She froze mid-motion when she realized someone was seated beside her. She turned her head slowly—

Levi.

Dressed in his clean military coat, boots polished, sitting perfectly straight with not a hair out of place. His jaw was tense, and his steel-gray eyes flicked toward her — cold, unreadable. His whole posture screamed discomfort.

And now... Petra was squeezed between Levi on her right and eren on her left, another cadet with a wide frame. No room to breathe. No room to hide. And worse—

“Hhh-achoo!” Petra sneezed violently into her elbow.

Levi’s nose scrunched in absolute disgust. “Tch.”

The silence was thick. Petra felt like shrinking into a raisin.

“Ugh, wet, sniffly kids in a sealed vehicle. Great,” Levi muttered, brushing imaginary lint off his sleeve like her mere presence had infected the air.

Moblit glanced at them through the rearview mirror. “You okay back there?”

“Y-yes,” Petra sniffled, embarrassed. “Sorry.”

“‘Sorry’ doesn’t disinfect the seat.” Levi pulled a small pack of disinfectant wipes from his coat pocket like it was a loaded weapon and began wiping the edge of his seat — and her side of the seat too. He even wiped his own jacket where her wet sleeve had brushed him.

Petra’s eyes widened. “You carry wipes?”

“He carries everything,” Hange grinned, twisting around in her seat. “Once I sneezed near him and he sprayed the entire hallway.”

“That’s because you don’t cover your mouth,” Levi snapped.

Petra stifled another sneeze but failed. “Hhh-achhh!”

Levi’s eye twitched. “Stop breathing on me.”

“S-sorry…”

“I don’t need your apology. I need a quarantine.”

Hange burst out laughing. “Aw come on, Levi, she’s not contagious. Probably just caught a chill from the rain.”

“She’s dripping onto the seat.” Levi pointed with a finger. “Moblit. Stop the car. Let me out.”
“Levi! You’re being dramatic!” Hange turned around fully now. “Look at her! Poor thing is soaked.”

“She should’ve worn proper layers. Or stayed home.” Levi’s voice was flat, clinical.

Petra shrank further, her cheeks red.

“Levi,” Moblit sighed. “There’s a heater vent. Turn it toward her.”

Levi reached down, adjusted the vent — away from himself, obviously — and then, with barely restrained tension, pulled a dry scarf from his pack and shoved it toward Petra without making eye contact.

“Use this. But don’t sneeze on it.”

Petra blinked. “Y-you're giving this to me?”

“You’re holding it. I didn’t say it was a gift.”

She took it hesitantly, then whispered, “Thank you…”

“Tch.”

Hange was still laughing softly. “You’ve got a weird way of showing concern, Levi.”

Levi didn’t answer. He just glared out the window, muttering under his breath, “She better not sneeze again.”

Of course, Petra sneezed again.

He nearly opened the window mid-ride.

Levi’s POV

It had started to rain — hard. The kind that drums on the roof and makes the city look like it’s melting through the windshield. People rushed to their cars, engines hummed to life, and the roads filled quickly.

Moblit was driving today. I didn’t ask why. I just got in and sat in the back, pressed against the window, arms folded. Hange babbled something in the front seat — something about Petra and some kid she was with. A boy.that we saw earlier I didn’t catch the name. Didn’t care, either.

At least, I told myself I didn’t.

Still, hearing her name made my chest tighten. I hadn’t talked her since… that night. The one where her amber eyes were full of confusion, hurt — because of me. And ever since then, I’ve been avoiding her like a coward. Because that’s what I am. Cold on the outside, but too afraid to face what I ruined.

Why am I being like this?

I don’t know. I really don’t. I keep telling myself it’s better this way.

And then—

“OOHHH—Leeeviii~” Hange sang, her head twisting around to look at me with a knowing grin.

I raised an eyebrow, but didn’t move.

“What,” I said flatly.

She smirked. “Guess who we’re picking up?”

“Don’t care.”

“Ohhh, you will care.”

I stared at her silently.

She leaned closer to the front window, wiping away a circle of fog. “There she is! And the kid. Just like I said. She's totally soaked too, poor thing.”

My eyes flicked to the side window. Through the rain, I could just barely make out her figure. Petra. Hugging her arms, shivering, her hair plastered to her face. She still looked… exactly like I remembered.

Something twisted in my gut.

Hange turned to look at me with wide, dramatic eyes. “Aww, Levi. You're blushing~”

“No, I’m not,” I replied, dead cold.

“You are! Just a little! Right here—” she poked at her own cheek like an idiot. “Cute.”

I glared at her. “I’ll throw you out of the car.”

Moblit chuckled quietly from the driver’s seat. “Not while I’m driving, please.”

“I’m serious.”

“You always are,” Hange sighed dramatically. “Honestly, Levi. You act like you don’t care, but the moment I mentioned her, you sat up straighter.”

“I sat up because your voice is annoying.”

Hange laughed. “Riiight. And the fact that you keep sanitized wipes in your coat pocket has nothing to do with wanting to be prepared in case she sneezes on you.”

I narrowed my eyes at her.

“She’s sick, Levi. Poor girl probably caught a cold. You gonna yell at her for existing again?”

“I never yelled.”

“Okay, you death-glared her into silence. Same thing.”

“I don’t care.”

“You do.”

“I don’t.”

“She’s getting in.”

“Great.”

And then — the door opened, and the seat dipped. She climbed in.

I didn’t even look at her. Not directly. Just… stayed still. Cold. Distant.

But in that instant — when the scent of rain and shampoo reached me, and she muttered my name under her breath — everything inside me stirred.

I kept my face blank.

“Sit properly,” I muttered. “You’re dripping everywhere.”

It was easier to be cold.

It’s the only way I know how to protect what’s already breaking.
____

The car rolled to a stop in front of their place. The rain hadn’t let up — if anything, it fell harder now, each drop thudding against the roof with rhythmic intensity.

“Alright, kids! We’re here!” Hange chirped.

Eren hopped out first, jacket pulled over his head. He turned and held the door open for Petra. “Come on, sis. Careful—”

Petra coughed violently, her head spinning a bit as she reached for the handle. Her fingers slipped. Her foot caught the edge of the curb.

And just like that—

Thud.

She fell straight into the wet, muddy road.

“Petra!” Hange gasped, eyes wide behind her fogged-up glasses.

“Damn it,” Moblit muttered, already pulling out a small umbrella to rush over.

Eren burst into laughter, holding his stomach. “Yeah! Horseface’s brain already melted in the rain!”

From the ground, Petra groaned and rolled to her side, soaking wet, coat covered in dirt and gravel. She glared up at Eren.

“Go f*ck yourself, Yeager-bomb!” she snapped, voice hoarse from sneezing and irritation.

Hange howled with laughter. “Oh my god! Yeager-bomb?! I’m stealing that!”

Even Moblit chuckled under his breath while helping Petra up.

“Be careful, sis,” Eren said with a sheepish grin, brushing dirt off her shoulder. “Seriously. You’re gonna die from rainwater and bad coordination.”

Petra, still fuming but too sick to argue, muttered, “Tch... thanks.”

She glanced back at the car—half expecting, half hoping—Levi might’ve looked her way, or shown some concern.

But Levi... was still in the back seat., expression blank, sleeves rolled up slightly as he carefully sanitized his hands with clinical precision. He dabbed a wet wipe over his hands, then moved on to the car handle, wiping it down thoroughly.

He didn’t even glance at her.

Petra stood there silently, shivering, soaking, cheeks flushed.

“Oi! Levi,” Hange called, grinning. “Aren’t you gonna help the sick girl who just kissed the sidewalk?”

He didn’t look up.

“I already gave her my scarf. That’s enough charity for today.”

Petra’s lips parted, but no words came out.

“Alright, alright,” Moblit said quickly, “Let’s get going, Hange. We’ve got to get back before the streets flood.”

Mobilt gave Petra’s hand one last squeeze. “Take care.”

“Bye, Eren and petra,” hange and mobilit muttered.

The car pulled away slowly, Levi not even giving her a final glance. She watched him through the misty window, still sanitizing the seat with an expression like he'd just been to war.
Petra stood silently in the rain, the scarf still in her hands.
She sneezed again.

Levi’s POV

The car door slammed shut. The moment Petra and the boy stepped out, I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding.

Her scent lingered faintly—rain, lavender, and something warm. Familiar. The seat still held a hint of her weight.

I pulled a disinfectant wipe from my inner coat pocket and immediately wiped the spot where her arm had touched mine.

Moblit glanced in the rearview mirror but said nothing.

Hange, though?

Of course she couldn’t help herself.

She turned all the way around in her seat, grinning like a devil with a lab coat.

“Wow. Just... wow.”

I didn’t look up.

“She was soaked, Levi. Sniffling. Shivering. And you sat there like she was carrying the plague.”

“She sneezed six times,” I muttered, tossing the wipe into the sealed trash pouch I kept in my bag.

Hange gasped theatrically. “SIX?! That’s a death sentence, huh? We should’ve burned the car seat after she left.”

I glared at her. “Don’t tempt me.”

Moblit gave a quiet chuckle as he changed lanes.

Hange leaned forward, eyes wide and gleaming. “But you didn’t even offer to help her. Not a single hand. Not even a ‘hey, don’t fall on your face, Petra.’ Moblit helped her . Moblit gave her the umbrella.”

“Moblit also has no sense of self-preservation,” I said coolly. “She was soaked. Coughing. If she leans on him and collapses, it’s on his conscience.”

“She barely leaned!” Hange snorted. “You, on the other hand, sat rigid like she was contagious with the plague.”

“She might be.”

“She’s not! She just caught a little cold. You really think being cold to her is gonna help?”

“It helps me stay clean,” I snapped, brushing at my coat sleeves even though they were spotless. “And besides—what do you want me to do? Carry her like a princess?”

Hange gasped again, clutching her chest in mock delight. “You thought about carrying her! That’s it. You’re gone, Levi. Hopeless. Ruined.”

“I didn’t think about it.”

“You so did.”

“I didn’t.”

“She looked at you like you used to be human once,” she teased, snorting. “Like some version of you existed that actually knew how to speak.”

I scoffed. “You’re lucky this car is moving.”

“Ohhh, is that a threat, Captain Clean?”

“No. It’s a promise. The moment we stop, I’m getting out before your stupidity infects me too.”

Hange just laughed, delighted. “You can wipe down every inch of this car, Levi, but you can’t wipe down feelings.”

I said nothing.

But I gripped another disinfectant wipe anyway, scrubbing at the inside door handle, even though no one had touched it.

Outside the window, the rain kept falling. And somewhere behind all the teasing, all the silence, I knew exactly why I hadn’t looked at her.

Because if I had…
I wouldn’t have been able to look away.

After reaching HQ, Levi did what he always did.

He changed out of his damp clothes and tossed them into the laundry with precision. His boots were cleaned and placed exactly as they should be. He even wiped down the rim of the laundry bin out of habit.

The rain outside hadn’t let up. In fact, it had gotten heavier, hammering against the windows with no signs of stopping. But inside, everything was quiet. Too quiet.

He made himself a cup of tea — plain, hot, and bitter — and took it to his room. The warmth helped, but only slightly. His mind was elsewhere.

Petra.

She’d been silent in the car. She hadn’t even looked at him at all.. He had stayed silent too, eyes forward, hands folded, jaw tight. She’d sneezed a few times — probably cold, probably miserable — Moblit was the one who offered her a hand when she fall. Not him.
He hated that about himself. That he noticed… and did nothing.
The tea was gone too quickly. He stood, picked up the empty cup, and walked down the hallway toward the kitchen. As he turned the corner, he slowed when he heard voices — soft, but clear — coming from around the stairwell.
Hange and Moblit. Talking as usual.
He paused without thinking, just a step before the kitchen door.

“Hun, you see something is going on between them,” Hange was saying. “Obviously Petra likes Levi.”

There was a short pause, then Moblit’s voice, calm and thoughtful. “Yeah, I saw that… but I don’t know about Levi, you know?”

“Same,” Hange replied with a sigh. “Even though I tease him, I honestly don’t know what’s going on in that head of his. But Petra? That girl’s feelings are obvious. She doesn’t even try to hide it anymore.”

Levi stood still, fingers tightening slightly on the handle of the teacup. He made no sound, just listened, expression unreadable.

“What’s her age again?” Moblit asked after a second. “Twenty-one? Twenty-two?”

“Twenty-one,” Hange confirmed. “I remember asking once. Levi brought up the age gap right away when I teased him about her. Said it wouldn’t be right.”

“Ohh… so young,” Moblit said quietly.

“Yeah,” Hange continued, softer now. “But when she was in the hospital… he was there. Every day. Didn't say much, but he didn’t leave her side either. That wasn’t just duty, Moblit. That was something else.”

Silence followed. Only the sound of rain hitting the windows.

“We can just watch and see,” Moblit said at last.

“Yeah,” Hange murmured. “But I hope one of them figures it out before someone gets hurt.”

Their footsteps started down the stairs, fading with every step.

Levi finally moved. He entered the kitchen without a sound, placed the cup in the sink, and turned on the water. The warm stream ran over the porcelain, but his hands moved on autopilot.

He didn’t know what he was feeling.

He knew Petra was kind. He knew she was young. Too young.
He knew she looked at him like he was something more than just a soldier.
He also knew he didn’t know how to deal with that.

And even worse — he didn’t know how to stop thinking about her.

He finished washing the cup. Dried it slowly. Placed it back where it belonged.

Everything in its place — except the thing he couldn’t control.

His thoughts.

Meanwhile in the house~

The room was still. The sound of distant thunder rolled like a whisper outside. Petra lay curled beneath her blanket, her skin hot from the fever, her throat dry and sore. Her hair clung to her forehead, damp with sweat.
Her chest ached—not just from the illness, but from something deeper.

And she hated it.

Hated how one moment — one look, or lack of it — could hurt so much.

Her eyes welled up again. She turned her face into the pillow and bit her lip hard, trying to stop the tears from falling. But they came anyway. Soft, silent.

She whispered to herself, almost like an apology, “Why did I even expect anything from him…”

A voice broke the silence beside her.

“Petra…”

It was Eren, sitting beside her bed, arms crossed on his knees, concern shadowing his usually teasing eyes.

“…What’s the matter?”

She froze. “Nothing,” she mumbled, voice hoarse. She turned away, but not fast enough to hide her tears.

“Come on. You’re crying,” he said quietly.

“I’m fine, Eren.”

He hesitated, then reached out and gently held her hand. His touch was warm and grounding, and Petra’s throat tightened at the gesture.

“Please don’t act like no one sees you,” he murmured.

There was silence. Then slowly, Petra began to speak—broken at first, then clearer.

She told him everything.

How she had first met Levi months ago during a suicideattempt she don. How he wasn’t part of her world, but somehow—he helped her when she was caught in a minor accident. How he had spoken little, but his actions were steady. How he treated everyone like a nuisance but still noticed everything.

“I don’t know why he helped me back then,” Petra whispered. “But he did. He looked at me like I wasn’t invisible. And today… I fell, and he didn’t even glance. Like I was nothing. Like—like I was dirt on his shoes.”
Her voice cracked. “I didn’t need much. Just—something. A word. A hand. Anything.”

Eren listened quietly, his fingers still holding hers.

Then he asked, gently, “So… you like that guy?”

Petra blinked. “W-what? No! I—no, I’m not—”

Eren raised a brow. “You sure?”

“I’m not,” she said again, wiping her eyes quickly. “He’s rude and cold and... he carries way too many sanitizers.”

Eren smirked. “Then why are you crying because he didn’t help you, horseface?”

“Stop it, Yeager-bomb!” she groaned, smacking his shoulder weakly.

He laughed, but not in a mocking way. He leaned closer and ruffled her hair gently. “You don’t have to admit it. But maybe… you just wanted to matter to him. That’s okay.”

Petra bit her lip. Her silence said more than any words could.

“Sleep now,” Eren said softly. “We’ll deal with clean-freak heartbreak later.”

She finally smiled—a small, tired one—but a smile.

Outside, the storm began to calm.

Inside, for the first time that night, Petra’s tears stopped falling.

The sun was shining brightly over the gentle hills of eastern Maria. The sky was a clear blue, and a soft breeze rustled the tall grass as Petra, Granny Lise, and Eren made their way toward the picnic grounds near the town. It had been two days since Petra’s fever started to come down, and though her nose was still a little pink from sneezing, her spirit was much better.

Granny Lise walked ahead with her usual energy, wearing a wide straw hat and carrying the big picnic basket like it weighed nothing. Petra tried to help, but the old lady waved her off.

“Don’t you dare,” Granny said. “You’re still recovering. You’ll carry the cookies and that’s it.”

Eren followed behind them, struggling under a ridiculous load of cushions, a blanket, two bottles of juice, and a full watermelon wobbling in his arms.

“This is not how I imagined picnics worked,” he grumbled. “I thought it was all about lying on the grass and eating cake. Not... cardio.”

“You brought all that yourself!” Petra laughed, adjusting her light scarf. “No one told you to carry the entire fruit market.”

“I didn’t trust Granny’s basket. It looks like it’s from a hundred years ago,” Eren muttered, wobbling dangerously to one side.

“It is from a hundred years ago,” Granny Lise called cheerfully over her shoulder. “And it’s still stronger than your arms!”

Petra giggled. “You’re just jealous of her basket’s muscles.”

They passed a small hill where other families were already sitting and playing. A group of kids chased each other with sticks pretending to be swords, and someone was flying a kite that looked suspiciously like a very lazy bird.

Eren looked longingly at the flat ground. “Can we picnic here? Please? I think the watermelon is digging into my soul.”

“We’re almost there,” Granny said firmly. “By that big tree over there. Shade, breeze, and not so many ants.”

“But what about my suffering?” Eren sighed dramatically. “It’s real.”

Granny didn’t even turn around. “You’ll live. And if you don’t, I get your slice of pie.”

That made Petra laugh so hard she had to stop walking. Eren glared at both of them, but his grumpy face was ruined by the watermelon nearly slipping out of his hands.

“I’m never carrying anything again,” he declared. “Next time, I’m bringing only myself and good vibes.”

“You already forgot the napkins,” Petra pointed out, holding up a tiny packet. “So technically, we’re already relying on my brain.”

Eren threw his head back like he’d been mortally wounded. “Betrayed by my own cousin!”

Granny Lise grinned and raised the picnic basket triumphantly. “And saved by your grandmother. Again.”

As they finally reached the tree, they all flopped onto the grass. Petra spread out the blanket, Eren dramatically rolled onto it, and Granny began unpacking sandwiches like a military general.

The air was warm, the laughter easy, and the day had only just begun.

The picnic spot under the tall oak tree turned out to be perfect. The branches stretched wide like open arms, offering shade from the warm midday sun. A soft breeze rustled the leaves above them, and the grass below was cool and clean.

Granny Lise spread out the old but sturdy blanket with military precision and unpacked the basket as if she’d done it a hundred times—which she probably had. Sandwiches, boiled eggs, cut fruits, crispy fried snacks, homemade pie, and even two thermoses of lemonade made their way out one by one. Everything was fresh and neatly packed, smelling of her tiny herb garden and love.

Petra sat with her legs tucked to the side, still wrapped in her scarf but visibly brighter than she’d been in days. She leaned back on her arms, breathing in the countryside air while watching Eren try to stab the watermelon open with a butter knife.

“Careful,” Granny Lise warned without even turning her head. “If you stab your hand, I’m not wasting bandages on foolishness.”

Eren paused mid-stab, looking unsure. “Then what do I do? Whisper it open?”

Petra chuckled. “Maybe apologize for threatening it.”

Eventually, Granny came to the rescue with a real knife from her basket, slicing the watermelon clean and handing out juicy slices. They all ate with sticky fingers and big grins, juice dribbling down their chins, too lazy to care.

After lunch, they stretched out on the blanket under the swaying tree. Birds chirped above and kids laughed in the distance. Petra closed her eyes for a moment, letting the soft wind brush against her cheeks. Her head was still a little heavy, but for once, her heart wasn’t.

Eren, meanwhile, decided to challenge Granny Lise to a game of stone toss—trying to see who could flick a pebble the farthest. She beat him three times in a row without even standing up. Petra giggled so hard she had to hold her side.

Then came a very questionable game of charades, in which Eren tried to act out a horse, but somehow looked more like a squirrel having a meltdown. Petra guessed it instantly.

Later, they lay on their backs watching the clouds drift. Eren claimed one cloud looked like a dragon eating a sandwich. Petra saw a bird, Granny said it looked like a broken chair, and somehow they argued over that for fifteen minutes.

The sun began to lower slightly, and golden light spilled over the hills like honey. Petra took out her sketchbook and began to draw quietly, capturing the shape of the tree and the way Eren was now napping with one leg in the air and a crust of pie on his face.

Granny Lise leaned back, hands folded under her head, smiling with her eyes closed. “This,” she said softly, “is the kind of day that sticks in the heart.”

And she was right.

There was no drama, no rushing, no loudness of the outside world. Just laughter, crumbs, sun-warmed grass, and three people sharing peace, in a corner of the world that finally felt kind.
The warm golden hues of the countryside evening faded as they made their way back home after the joyful picnic. The scent of wildflowers still lingered in the air. Petra and Eren were helping Granny water the plants while she sat peacefully knitting on her favorite armchair outside the little porch.

The hose was looped carelessly across the path.

“Eren, stop spraying me!” Petra yelped, swatting at him as he pretended to water the plants — but mostly watered her feet.

“Hey! It’s called multi-tasking! These tomatoes need love and you need to cool down, you were sweating like a steamed potato.”

“I swear you’re ten times more annoying in the countryside,” she laughed.

Suddenly— thud!

Petra slipped on the wet path, tangled in the hose, and her chin hit the edge of a rock with a sickening crunch.

“PETRA!” Eren shouted, dropping the hose. Blood trickled from her jaw.

Granny’s yarn dropped to the floor as she stood up in panic. “Oh my heavens—get the car! The health centre is near the port, hurry!”

---

In the rickety countryside car, bouncing along the uneven road

Eren kept nervously glancing at Petra in the back seat, holding a cloth to her chin. “It’s not that bad, right? Right?? You’ve still got all your teeth? Blink twice if you're still pretty!”

Petra grumbled through clenched teeth, “If you don’t shut up, I swear the next thing to bleed will be your nose.”

“Wha—! Okay! Threats from the wounded! That means you’re fine. We’re gonna be fine, Granny! Look at her. Already homicidal again!”

Granny, from the passenger seat: “Eren, stop talking or I’ll throw you out this car.”

Petra snorted a little, then winced. “Ow. Even laughing hurts. This is your fault, you man-child.”

“My fault?! I was just watering—”

“You sprayed me! And left the hose like a giant jungle trap!”

“It’s a garden hose! Not a snake, Petra!”

“I was ambushed!”

Granny: “The only thing that needs watering is your sense of awareness, boy.”

Petra laughed again—more gently this time—despite the pain. “This is the worst post-picnic end ever.”

Eren sighed dramatically. “First the ants stole my sandwich. Then you tried to become one with the ground. What’s next, Granny—aliens at the health center?”

Granny: “If aliens do come, I’ll give them you as tribute.”

They all groaned and bounced as the car hit another pothole.

Petra grinned slightly, blood-stained napkin still pressed to her jaw. “I hope the nurse is cute. I deserve something good today.”

Eren snorted. “You’re literally bleeding from the face and still have priorities. Classic Petra.”

They reached the portside health center, the setting sun casting golden light across the sea. Petra held up a peace sign as Granny rushed her inside.

“Tell the nurse I fell saving a baby duck!” she called over her shoulder.

“Lies!” Eren shouted. “She lost a war against the hose!”

Granny: “Both of you need holy water.”

After about an hour inside the portside health centre, Petra finally stepped out with a small white bandage on her jaw and a grumpy expression. The numbing shot had already worn off, and the stitches tugged every time she smiled — which was hard, considering Eren was still being himself.

Granny came out behind her, holding Petra’s small bag. “Three stitches and one giant needle. You handled it better than Eren did watching it.”

“I did not scream,” Eren declared with great offense, trailing behind them.

“The nurse literally said, ‘Young man, please stop covering your eyes and let your sister breathe.’” Granny rolled her eyes.

Petra sat on the stone bench near the parking area, watching the calm sea just beyond the health centre. The port was quiet now, a few boats bobbing in the distance, and the salty breeze tugged at her hair.

“I’m fine now,” she said, trying to brush it off, though she winced touching her bandage. “It’s just a few stitches. Nothing dramatic.”

“You bled like a horror film, Petra. I thought you were going to become a ghost and haunt the garden hose,” Eren said as he dramatically tossed a small pebble toward the shore.

Granny eyed them both thoughtfully, then gave a small smile. “Since we’re already here, why don’t we take a little walk by the beach? Some sea air will do good for your spirits. Besides, that sunset is too pretty to waste.”

Petra blinked. “Wait—we’re not going straight home?”

Eren’s eyes lit up. “Beach time? Yes! Do I get to push someone into the water?”

Granny raised a finger at him. “Try it, and you’ll be swimming home.”

They wandered down toward the sand, the waves gently lapping at the shore. Petra walked barefoot, carrying her shoes, the cool sand between her toes. The salty wind made her cheeks feel fresh, and despite the dull ache on her jaw, the atmosphere was comforting.

“Hey, Eren,” Petra said lazily, “wanna race to that driftwood log?”

“With a head injury? No way. You’ll collapse, and then Granny will make me dig a hole to bury the evidence.”

Granny, behind them: “You’ll dig it either way if you annoy her again.”

Eren whispered to Petra, “How is she the sweetest grandma and a mafia boss?”

“She’s versatile,” Petra grinned, and immediately winced. “Ow. Okay. No more smiling.”

They sat on the log, watching the sky turn into a painting of pinks and oranges.

Eren pulled a piece of bandage wrapper from his pocket and folded it like a mini boat. “Let’s see if this sails,” he said, setting it on a tide pool.

Petra watched it wobble and sink instantly. “That’s your brain right there.”

“You wound me,” Eren said, clutching his chest. “More than the rock wounded your jaw.”

Petra bumped her shoulder against his gently. “Thanks for freaking out and being a complete idiot back there.”

He grinned. “Anytime. You’d do the same if I cracked my head open.”

“Yeah,” she nodded, watching the waves. “But I’d at least look cooler doing it.”

Granny chuckled from her seat on a flat rock nearby, knitting again with the breeze in her hair. “You two are my favorite kind of trouble.”

As the sky darkened and the stars began to blink to life above the sea, their laughter mingled with the sound of waves — soft, warm, and just what Petra needed after the day's chaos.

The breeze carried the scent of the sea and the fading warmth of sunset as Petra, Eren, and Granny sat quietly on the beach, their earlier laughter now replaced with a strange silence. Petra was still barefoot, absently digging her heel into the sand, while Eren lay back, arms behind his head, staring at the cotton-candy sky.

But their attention slowly drifted away from the waves… toward the port.

Even from far across the beach, the scene was hard to miss.

A massive cruise ship was docked at the port, elegant and towering. But it wasn’t the ship that drew their attention — it was the strange, tense energy surrounding it.

The entire dock was swarming with soldiers.

“Whoa,” Eren sat up slowly, squinting. “There’s… a lot of them.”

Petra narrowed her eyes. “They weren’t there earlier, were they?”

“No,” Granny said calmly, her knitting paused in her lap. “That’s new.”

The soldiers weren’t just standing around either — they moved in tight formations, patrolling the dock, scanning the ship with some kind of scopes. Their uniforms were striking — not like the dusty field soldiers or casual security teams Petra had seen in town.

These ones wore rich navy and silver jackets, with crisp white belts and golden insignias that shimmered even in the low light. Their long coats flared in the breeze, and every one of them moved like they were part of a machine — disciplined, elegant, and cold.

“Those uniforms…” Petra whispered. “They’re new. Like… never-seen-before new.”

“Or experimental,” Granny added grimly.

“Why do they look like they walked out of a royal parade?” Eren asked, baffled. “What are they even doing? That cruise ship isn’t even moving.”

Then he paused. His voice dropped. “…Why are some of them carrying those weird spears?”

Petra followed his gaze. “Not spears. They're gear launchers. Like ODM, but… sleeker. Modified?”

“Those aren’t your usual countryside guards,” Granny muttered, eyes sharp now, her knitting forgotten. “And they’re not just inspecting that ship. They’re hunting something.”

A low thud echoed faintly across the water — a hatch being slammed? A door being broken?

From their distance, they couldn’t make out the details. But one thing was clear: this wasn’t routine.

Then… they noticed something stranger.

Among the soldiers, they could see several figures kneeling on the dock. Civilians? No—passengers. Hands bound, some being questioned. And then, one of the officers pointed toward the cruise again… then turned slightly.

His gaze — though distant — locked in their direction.

“…He’s looking at us,” Petra said quietly.

Eren frowned. “Can he see us from this far?”

Granny stood up slowly. “Time to go, kids.”

“But we’re not doing anything!” Eren protested.

Petra didn't take her eyes off the port. “That doesn’t matter. Something big is going down.”

“I don’t like this,” Granny said, unusually serious. “Those soldiers—something about them feels… off. Like they’re not from around here.”

As they stood and began walking back up the path to their car, Petra glanced over her shoulder one last time.

The port was alive with movement.

Soldiers swarming the decks. Officers barking commands. Passengers being herded off.

And on the side of the cruise ship, barely visible in the fading light, someone had spray-painted — hastily, defiantly — a huge symbol that sent a chill through Petra’s spine:

A giant “E” with wings drawn around it.

She stared at it, frozen.

“…Eren,” she said softly. “That’s your initial.”

Eren blinked. “Okay what—no. No, no, no. I didn’t do anything!”

Granny was already opening the car door. “We leave. Now.”

And as they drove off, headlights flickering through the dusk, Petra couldn’t shake the feeling that they had just witnessed the beginning of something much bigger — and it had somehow caught the scent of them.

After two days, Petra's jaw had started to heal, but it still hurt."
It was a night time

That night was pure madness.

The stars were out, the village was asleep, and three fully grown idiots were creeping through a watermelon field like they were ten again.

Petra, wrapped in her hoodie, shuffled behind them in fuzzy sheep pajamas and socks stuffed into sandals. Her jaw still ached from earlier, so she kept quiet — though her wide-eyed panic said enough.

“This is so dumb,” she muttered through mostly-closed lips.

“Shh!” Eren whispered dramatically. “Operation Watermelon Ghost is in motion.”

Bertholdt raised an eyebrow. “You named it?”
(Bertholdt and Eren, childhood friends now attending the same class, were both a few years younger than Petra. Though Bertholdt had grown into an impressively tall young man, he remained soft-hearted — a gentle giant who still cried like a child.)

“I name all my missions.”

Petra rolled her eyes, her hand pressed lightly to her jaw.

Eren, squinting around the dark field, hissed again: “Hey, Birth Control! Don’t lag! And don’t talk much. What if someone sees us?”

Bertholdt, deadpan: “Says the guy yelling in all caps.”

Eren scowled. "Head strong hero got this under control.”

Bertholdt looked at Petra and muttered, “I’m smashing his face into the nearest watermelon if he says ‘headstrong hero’ one more time.”

Petra made a tiny choking noise trying not to laugh, her hand still gently cradling her jaw.

They slipped through a gap in the old fence, which gave a loud “CLANG” as Eren tripped and cursed under his breath.

“Petra, you okay?” Bertholdt asked as she carefully stepped through next.

She gave a small thumbs up, holding her hoodie closed with one hand.

They crept deeper into the field, rows of plump watermelons gleaming under moonlight. The smell of dirt and summer air was oddly comforting.

Eren grinned like a kid again. “Man, this is exactly like back then. Remember when you tried to carry two and ended up dropping one on your foot?”

Bertholdt nodded. “You cried for twenty minutes.”

“That was strategic crying!” Eren snapped. “I was distracting marco.”

Suddenly Petra stopped. Her foot caught on a vine. She wobbled, windmilling her arms.

Eren yelled, “Petra, NOT THE JAW—!”

She pitched forward—again—and this time Bertholdt dove in, catching her around the waist just before her chin could meet a very large, very solid watermelon.

“Careful,” he muttered.

Petra froze in his arms, clutching the air like a scared cat. Her eyes were wide, lips parted slightly in horror.

Bertholdt gently set her upright, patting her shoulder.

“You good?”

She nodded stiffly.

Eren whispered loudly, “That jaw’s got nine lives at this point.”

Petra slapped his arm (gently — her jaw still hurt), and pointed firmly at the biggest melon in the row.

Bertholdt, always the responsible one, picked it up and held it like a sacred artifact.

“Alright,” he said. “Let’s grab and go.”

Eren saluted. “headstrong hero away!”

Bertholdt muttered, “I swear, one more time and I’m feeding him to marco.”

Just as Eren grabbed his melon with a triumphant “HA!”, a porch light turned on in the distance.

“WHO THE HELL’S IN MY FIELD AGAIN?!”

The trio froze.

“IT’S HIM!” Petra whisper-squeaked.

“RUN!” Eren screamed, lifting his melon and bolting for the fence.

Bertholdt followed, one hand still holding Petra’s elbow as she stumbled beside him, nearly face-planting twice in her sandals.

They crashed through the fence, tumbled into a ditch, and finally collapsed breathless beside the road — dirty, sweating, but clutching their prize melons like treasure.

Petra lay on her back, staring at the sky, hoodie up, slippers gone.

Eren panted. “Victory.”

Bertholdt sat up and looked at Petra. “Still got your jaw?”

She gave a tired thumbs-up from the grass.

Eren grinned. “Legendary."

They were walking back home, The stolen watermelon felt heavy in Eren’s arms, but his grin was wider than ever.

"I swear we’re gonna get arrested for this!" Bertholdt hissed, eyes darting around nervously. “This is illegal! This is so illegal!”

“Relax,” Petra muttered, half-jogging ahead. “It’s just a watermelon, not a war crime.”

“Still a crime!” Bertholdt whimpered.

Suddenly, tires screeched on the gravel road ahead.

A sleek black military vehicle pulled up in front of them, cutting them off.

Bertholdt froze. “C-Can I still flee to another district?!”

Petra didn’t wait—she turned and bolted two steps in the opposite direction.

Eren, completely unfazed, clutched the watermelon tighter. “You guys want some? It’s super juicy!”

The car window rolled down slowly.

Inside sat Hange, wearing her usual chaotic grin, next to mobilt and serious Levi, arms crossed, unimpressed in the passenger seat.Mike was behind the wheel, sniffing the air with slight suspicion.

Petra skidded to a stop mid-run, paling. She forced a nervous smile. “Oh… hi…”

Eren blinked, slowly recognizing them. “Oh! Hange-san!

Bertholdt had already given up. He clutched his face in both hands and started softly sobbing. “We’re done… I’m gonna spend my life in a cell…”

Hange leaned out, grinning. “Well, well, if it isn’t Petra and her watermelon gang. What are you three up to, hmm?”

Levi’s cold gaze locked onto Petra. His voice was flat, unimpressed.
“...You’re bleeding ?”

Petra instinctively touched her jaw, still a bit sore from her earlier accident. “N-No! ! That was—just—" She stammered.

Eren stepped forward with the watermelon like it was a peace offering. “We were just, uh… taste-testing. For... the village festival. Right, Bertholdt?”

Bertholdt shook his head without looking up. “Don’t drag me into this…”

Mike finally spoke, sniffing again. “Smells like panic... and guilt.”

Hange leaned closer to Petra through the window. “You’ve really got a talent for chaos, huh? This the second time we’ve caught you doing something suspicious this month?”

Petra chuckled nervously. “It’s not what it looks like—”

“It looks like theft,” Levi cut in, his voice like ice. “From a government-monitored agricultural zone.”

Even Hange whistled at that. “Oof. He’s not letting you off easy.”

Petra opened her mouth to explain, but Levi was already turning away.

“Get in,” he said simply.

Petra blinked. “W-What?”

“You’re coming with us.”

“Are we under arrest?” Bertholdt squeaked.

“No,” Levi replied, deadpan. “You’re annoying. And I don’t want to hear about this incident in someone else's report.”

Petra sighed and dragged her feet toward the car.

“Can we bring the watermelon?” Eren asked, still beaming.

Hange winked. “Only if you share.”

Bertholdt was shaking so hard he looked like a deflating balloon. He clutched his seatbelt like it was a lifeline.

Bertholdt: “We’re going to jail. Oh my god. Oh my god…”

Petra, sitting beside him, had her head in her hands.

Petra: “I’m going to be expelled. Or worse—grounded for life. Granny’s going to hang me with a dish towel.”

Eren, casually leaning back with a big grin, held a fat slice of watermelon in both hands like a trophy.

Eren: “Y’all need to calm down. Nobody died. It’s just a watermelon.”

In the front seat, Hange twisted around with a wide smile.

Hange: “Just a watermelon? Just a watermelon?! It was twice your size and still had the farm dirt on it!”

Moblit, not even looking up from his phone: “It was clearly stolen. Very badly.”

Mike (driving calmly): “The tall one smells like pure panic. The girl smells like regret. The other one smells like melon and arrogance.”

Levi, from the passenger seat, spoke for the first time—his voice flat and cold.

Levi: “Petra.”

She didn’t answer.

Levi (again, sharper): “Petra.”

Petra (meekly): “...Yes.”

Levi: “How old are you?”

Petra: “Twenty one…”

Levi: “Really? I thought you were six. Because that’s about the mental age it takes to steal produce and run screaming.”

Bertholdt: “I—I didn’t even touch it! I just got dragged along!”

Levi (glancing at him once): “Who are you?”

Bertholdt (nervous): “Uh—Bertholdt. I’m just a friend of theirs.”

Levi (to Hange, deadpan): “Put that in the report. Third idiot: name unknown, cries on sight.”

Hange (snorting): “Already typing.”

Petra: “I didn’t plan this, I swear. I just—Eren said it looked ripe and then everything happened so fast—”

Levi: “Don’t blame him. You had legs. You could’ve walked away. Or better, used your brain.”

Petra: “I didn’t think it was serious—!”

Levi: “That’s the problem. You don’t think. You react.”

Eren: “Okay but in my defense, the melon was basically asking to be picked up.”

Levi (cold): “And you were asking to be caught.”

Eren (grinning): “Still got away for a bit, didn’t I?”

Levi: “With that birth control screaming behind you like a siren.”

Bertholdt: “I was trying to warn people!”

Levi: “You warned every bird in the area. They flew off.”

Hange: “Poor Petra. She looked like she was running from the apocalypse.”

Levi (to Petra): “We’ve pulled you out of trouble before. But this? This is new. Melon heists? Really?”

Petra (quiet): “I didn’t know it’d turn into this…”

Levi: “You never do.

Mike: “He’s still crying.” looking Bertholdt

Levi: “Let him. He should cry harder. Maybe it'll wash the dumb off.”

Bertholdt (sniffling): “I just met them today…”

Levi: “And you already need therapy. Impressive.”

The car turned onto the quiet countryside road near granny's house.

Eren: “Wait, we’re not being taken in?”

Levi: “You think I want to do paperwork for three melon-chasers? No. You're not worth the effort.”

Bertholdt (relieved): “Oh thank God…”

Levi: “Don’t thank anyone. Just disappear.”

They pulled to a stop.

Levi turned slightly, locking eyes with Petra one last time through the mirror.

Levi (cold, disappointed): “Get out. And next time I see you, I expect you not to be the center of another circus act.”

Petra bit her lip, nodded silently, and stepped out.

As they walked toward the house, Hange stuck her head out the window.

Hange: “Next time, pick strawberries! Less dramatic!”

Moblit: “And cheaper bail.”

And the car pulled away.

The next night~

The night had barely begun, yet the air already felt too quiet. Not peaceful—just still, like something was holding its breath. After everything that happened the night before, most people would’ve stayed home, curled under a blanket, especially after being scolded by Captain Levi himself.

But not Petra, Eren, and Bertholdt.

They were already sneaking out again.

Of course, this time, there would be no stealing. No melons. No markets. No soldiers. They had sworn it. Instead, they were headed to the quiet, hidden spot near the hill river. A place only locals knew, tucked beyond the old forest trail. The cruise port was still under military lockdown, the tension from enemy activity thick in the air, so the three took the long way — a winding, forested path that hadn’t been walked in months.

Bertholdt was still pale with fear, eyes darting with every crack of a twig. He kept glancing over his shoulder like Levi himself might leap out of the bushes. Petra didn’t look much braver. Her backpack bounced nervously against her back, and she clutched her flashlight like it was a weapon. Only Eren moved confidently, laughing too loudly and stepping on every possible crunchy leaf.

“I can’t believe we’re doing this again,” Bertholdt muttered, more to himself than anyone else. “If Levi finds out—if he even sees us—I'm changing my name. I’m not even kidding.”

Petra shook her head, the beam of her flashlight dancing ahead. “Relax, Bertie. We’re not doing anything illegal this time. It’s just a river. No melons. No fences. No ‘Restricted Area’ signs.”

“Yet,” he grumbled.

The deeper they went, the thicker the trees became. The moonlight barely slipped through the canopy now, and the trail had turned to little more than broken leaves and roots. It was eerily silent except for the occasional rustle of animals and the crunch of their own footsteps.

Petra led them like she knew exactly where they were going, although her quick glances at every shadow suggested otherwise. She hadn’t said much since the last incident. Not since Levi’s voice had boomed in the car, cold and furious, cutting through her like ice. The way he’d stared at her in the rearview mirror — like she was just another problem to solve — still echoed in her chest. He didn’t look at her with concern anymore. Just disappointment.

The memory stung more than she wanted to admit.

Eren, still chewing sunflower seeds, finally broke the silence.

“I swear if we see a soldier tonight, I’m throwing myself in the river and letting nature take me.”

“That’s not comforting,” Bertholdt said flatly.

“Not meant to be,” Eren replied, grinning.

Eventually, the forest thinned and opened into a slope. Down below, shimmering in the moonlight like a silver thread, was the hill river. It flowed gently between moss-covered rocks and low shrubs. Mist floated above the surface like ghostly silk. It looked untouched. Safe.

Petra let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. The others followed, each of them falling quiet for a few moments as they approached the edge.

They sat near the water’s bank. Bertholdt hesitated, still too stiff to relax, while Eren instantly tossed his boots aside and dipped his feet in the freezing water. Petra sat between them, hugging her knees, eyes fixed on the flowing river.

“I still feel like I’m being watched,” Bertholdt muttered.

Eren leaned back on his arms, eyes closed. “Maybe by an angry squirrel.”

“Or Levi in camo paint,” Petra added dryly. That actually made all three of them laugh—real laughter this time. Not nervous or fake, just the sound of young people desperate for peace.

For a while, they didn’t talk. The river did all the speaking, trickling over stone, whispering secrets only the forest understood.

Then, in a soft voice, Petra said, “He didn’t even look at me like a person yesterday. Just like a headache he wanted gone.”

Bertholdt glanced at her, brows furrowed. “Maybe he was angry. Or scared. Maybe both.”

“Maybe he just hates me now.”

“No way,” Eren cut in. “You think if he hated you, he’d have helped you all those times before? He doesn’t waste energy unless he wants someone to live.”

She stared at the water, quiet again.

Maybe Eren was right. Maybe Levi did care, in his strange, cold, boot-stomping way. Or maybe she had finally crossed the line between someone he used to help, and someone he now wanted to forget.

But for tonight, that didn’t matter.

No yelling. No punishments. No consequences.

Just the sound of water, the stars above them, and the three of them—slightly broken, slightly healed—sitting beside the river like they used to when they were younger.

Still wild.

Still reckless.

But together.

🌊 River Chaos and Laughter in the Dark

The peaceful silence didn’t last long.

Just as Petra started to relax, her arms wrapped around her knees and her mind drifting off with the current, she heard the hushed whispers behind her.

Too late.

With a coordinated shove—clearly planned while she was lost in her thoughts—Eren and Bertholdt launched forward and pushed her squarely into the river.

“Eren! Bertholdt!!” she shrieked mid-fall, her flashlight slipping from her hand and hitting the edge of the water with a thud. A splash echoed through the forest, and then silence... until her head popped back up, soaked and sputtering.

“You jerks!!” she shouted, wiping her soaked bangs from her face, her clothes plastered to her skin.

Bertholdt looked horrified, already regretting it. “It was Eren’s idea!!”

“No, it wasn’t!” Eren barked, laughing so hard he nearly choked. “You mouthed ‘do it’ at me!”

Petra sloshed toward the riverbank like a vengeful spirit, water trailing behind her, eyes locked on both of them. “You both are dead. Dead. I don’t care if Levi finds us again—I’ll make sure I send you to jail.”

But Eren, always one to poke the bear, stepped closer, smirking. “It’s just river water, college girl. You needed to cool off anyway after sulking so much.”

Before Petra could retaliate, he jumped in too, splashing an enormous wave in her direction.

Bertholdt yelped, frozen. “No! No no no—I didn’t bring spare clothes!”

Too bad.

Petra grabbed his wrist and yanked him in with a surprising amount of force for someone who was just crying an hour ago. Bertholdt tumbled into the water with a scream so high-pitched it scared the nearby birds.

And then it was war.

Laughter echoed through the trees as the three of them flailed, splashed, and soaked each other under the moonlight. Water flew in every direction. Petra grabbed Eren’s sunflower seeds and dumped them dramatically into the river like a sacrifice to the chaos gods. Eren retaliated by dunking her again. Bertholdt kept trying to climb out, only for one of them to drag him back in.

It was cold.

It was stupid.

It was perfect.

All the tension, the fear from the night before, Levi’s cold glare, the guilt, the weight—they all washed away in the current.

They weren’t criminals.

They weren’t problems.

They were just three lifelong friends in a river, laughing until their lungs hurt.

Petra finally collapsed back into the water, floating on her back, soaked hair spread like seaweed, catching her breath.

“Okay,” she wheezed, grinning despite herself. “No more night adventures after this.”

“You say that every time,” Eren said, lying beside her, both of them staring at the stars now.

“And then we do it anyway,” Bertholdt added, hugging his knees in the shallow water like a soaked cat.

“Yeah,” Petra whispered with a tired smile. “Because we’re idiots.”

They all laughed again.

In the distance, an owl hooted.

And somewhere, miles away, Levi probably sneezed—his instincts whispering that Petra Ral was up to no good again.

Petra wore a layered ruffled tank top with tie straps and matching ruffled pants. She had brought a jacket for the chill, but now that they were all soaked from the water, she had taken it off. The games had gotten wild—they splashed each other, slipped in the shallow stream, and took dozens of fun, silly pictures on Bertholdt’s camera. It was the kind of carefree day that made them forget everything else.

Until they heard footsteps.

Slow. Heavy. From the woods behind them.

The three of them—Petra, Eren, and Bertholdt—froze in place.

Then they heard voices. Boots on wet grass.

They didn’t even turn around.

Instead, they stood there awkwardly, still smiling as if pretending nothing happened would make it go away.

It didn’t.

Levi. Hange. Mike. Nifa. Moblit. Eld.
More than ten soldiers stepped out from the trees, all staring.

It wasn’t even a restricted area—but it didn’t matter. The pressure was suffocating.

Petra’s heart stopped.

Her clothes—completely soaked—clung to her body. Every curve visible. Her face flushed red. , tried to disappear. But Levi’s gaze was already on her. Cold. Piercing. Judgmental.

He looked furious. At all three of them.

Especially after what happened the night before—the stolen watermelon incident.

The silence shattered.

“You three again?” Levi’s voice was quiet, but his anger was razor-sharp. “Are you that stupid?”

None of them responded.

“You think this is a joke?” he continued, louder now. “You’re not even from this area. And you’re out here, messing around like it's summer camp?! After what happened last night?!”

Petra said nothing. Her throat closed up. Bertholdt stared at the ground.

But Eren—already tense, blood pumping from shame—snapped.

“We’re just came to see the river ! It’s not even a restricted area—! We didn’t do anything wrong shorty!”

Bad move.

Levi’s expression turned murderous. He didn’t even hesitate.

CRACK.
His fist slammed into Eren’s face.

Again.

And again.

And again.

Blood splattered the dirt. Eren cried out, stumbling back, but Levi grabbed him and kept hitting—until a tooth came loose and dropped to the ground.

“Don’t you ever talk back to me, brat!” Levi roared.

No one moved.

Even Hange stayed silent.

Bertholdt looked like he might cry. Petra was paralyzed, shaking slightly, lips parted in shock. She couldn’t even blink.

Finally, Levi stepped back, breathing hard.

He glared at all three of them.

“You think you're grown? You think you're smart?” His voice dropped. “You're just children pretending.”

He pointed toward the forest.

“Get up. Go. Now. Cross the river and leave. ”

Levi turned, storming off. His squad followed one by one without a word.

They didn’t look back.

Only the three of them remained, drenched and broken. Eren groaned as Bertholdt and Petra helped him up. His mouth was bleeding, his shirt torn, and he didn’t speak again.

They crossed the river slowly in silence, heading for the hospital.

The pictures they'd taken just minutes ago suddenly felt like a different lifetime.

Levi’s POV

We were on patrol.

An unknown forest—uncharted, never cleared before. After the last enemy attack, we all knew what was coming.

Another attack.
There was no "maybe."
And there would be no going back.

Eastern Maria’s countryside was already too close to the enemy’s reach. It wasn’t safe. So we had to check every inch of it—tight formation, full gear, no mistakes.

Then—screams.

We froze.

Everyone went alert.

Without a second thought, we launched into the air with our gear, expecting an ambush, a civilian attack, maybe even a stray Titan.

But as we got closer, something felt off.

We stopped. Slowed down. Went in silently.

And then I saw it.

Petra.

In the river.

Soaked to the skin.

Her dress clinging tightly to her body, her hair wet, eyes wide. Beside her—those two idiots. All three of them dripping wet, standing there like kids caught in the middle of a water fight.

Laughing.

Taking pictures.

I stood still.

Stared for a second.

And then my anger snapped.

Not just because of what I saw. Not just because they were fooling around in an active danger zone.
But because they didn’t get it.

Just last night, these same brats broke into a farm and stole supplies like it was some kind of game.

And now this.

Eren looked at me—and talked back.

Like I was overreacting.

Like this wasn’t serious.

My anger took over.

I punched him.
Hard.
More than once.
I didn’t stop until he finally shut up.

He needed it.

They all did.

This isn’t school. This isn’t a playground. This isn’t a joke.

Petra might be a someone we knkw—but she’s not stupid. She should’ve known better.

I didn’t say more.

Just turned and walked away.

Because if they still didn’t understand how dangerous things were after this—

Then maybe they’ll understand it when the war finally catches up to them.

The gravel crunched under their feet as they finally stumbled out of the woods and onto the main road.

But it was empty.

No headlights.
No sound of engines.
Nothing.

Just the cold wind brushing past them and Petra’s soft, uncontrollable sobs.

She didn’t stop crying.

Not once.

Her hands were trembling as she tried to keep Eren upright, his weight making her knees buckle. Her soaked clothes clung to her like paper, hair stuck to her face, lips pale from the cold—but she didn’t even notice.

“Petra… please,” Bertholdt said gently, looking down the road, hoping—praying—for any sign of a car. “He’s gonna be okay… we’ll find something, just—please don’t cry like that…”

But Petra couldn’t stop.

She was past embarrassment now. Past reasoning.

Every time she blinked, she saw Levi’s face. The look of cold fury. The way he’d punched Eren without hesitation. The way he walked away without even checking if they were okay.

Eren coughed softly beside her. “I’m fine,” he said again, voice faint but trying to be strong. “It’s not even that bad…”

His shirt was stained with blood. His jaw swollen.

And he was still trying to comfort her.

That made her cry harder.

Petra dropped to her knees, right there at the edge of the road, her hands over her face as her shoulders shook uncontrollably. The sound of her sobs echoed under the dark sky.

“I hate him,” she whispered through her fingers. “I hate him. I hate him for this.”

Bertholdt stood silently next to her, still supporting Eren with one arm.

He didn’t know what to say.

They were just students.
They were scared.
And they were alone on that empty road—waiting for help that didn’t seem to be coming.

After all the chaos — the fall, the stitches, and the hospital visit — things finally calmed down. It was an old uncle who had helped Petra into the medical center that day, and though Granny had cried seeing Eren’s injured state, the doctors had treated him quickly. It was nearly 11 p.m. by the time they got home.

The next two days passed quietly at home. Petra rested, Granny cooked warm meals, and Eren was scolded gently every time he reached for something heavy. Now, the final day had arrived. Granny and Petra would be leaving the countryside tomorrow — so they decided to make the most of it.

The three of them — Eren, Petra, and Bertholdt — set out together, the sky clear and the sun soft over the green hills.

Petra, wearing a light shawl over her shoulders and a bandage still on her jaw, stretched her arms and smiled.
Petra: "It feels good to be out again. I missed the breeze."
Eren: grinning "Just don’t go falling again, okay? We’re banned from hospitals now."
Bertholdt: chuckling as he carried a small bag of fruit "Yeah, the nurses might throw us out next time."
Petra: laughs softly "Then don’t make me laugh too hard, Eren. It still pulls."

They reached a spot near the edge of a small stream. The water gurgled gently and dragonflies buzzed low across the surface. A patch of soft grass became their picnic spot.

Bertholdt: handing out snacks "I still can’t believe how fast that week went."
Petra: nodding "Me neither. I was supposed to rest more… but somehow you two kept turning it into an adventure."
Eren: "Hey, I was peaceful. Until you slipped. Then everything turned into drama."

They all laughed, the kind that came freely when you're with people who feel like home.

Petra: looking around, taking in the view "I think… I’ll miss this place more than I expected."
Eren: "Then don’t say goodbye. Just say 'see you later.'"
Bertholdt: softly, with a smile "Next time, we’ll come back with Reiner and the rest. Maybe even cook over a fire like old days."

Just then, Granny called from a distance.
Granny: "Kids! Come here, let’s take a photo before the light goes!"
Petra: standing, brushing grass off her pants "Coming, Granny!"

The three of them ran up the slope, laughing all the way. Granny held up an old digital camera, and they stood together — Petra in the middle, Eren with a goofy grin, and Bertholdt shyly smiling.

Click.

The photo captured a moment they would all carry with them: a peaceful day, a bond that only grew stronger through chaos and care, and the warm glow of home before parting ways.

The golden sky stretched above the hills, but Petra couldn’t feel the peace of the countryside around her.

She sat alone on a stone ledge near the field, her fingers clenched around the edge of her scarf, her jaw still wrapped in bandages. The air was warm, but she felt cold inside.

She couldn’t stop thinking about Levi.

Not the usual kind of thoughts — the kind she secretly scolded herself for. Not the ones where his voice echoed in her head or his rare glances stayed with her longer than they should. No.

This time, it was his fists she remembered.
The way he struck Eren. Again. And again.
The sound of it. The look on Eren’s face.
The blood.

She had stood there, unable to do anything, and the man she thought she might’ve felt something for… was the one hurting him.

She bit her lip, her eyes burning.
How could he?
How could she still feel anything for him?

Footsteps approached, slow and hesitant. She didn’t turn.

Eren: quietly sitting beside her "You’re mad at him, huh?"
Petra: voice tight "That obvious?"
Bertholdt: sitting on her other side "Well… you’ve been glaring at the clouds for twenty minutes like they insulted you."
Petra: letting out a bitter breath "I’m trying not to think about it."
Eren: gently "About Levi?"
She didn’t answer.

The silence stretched for a moment.

Petra: finally, low and sharp "He hit you like you were a monster.."
Eren: quietly "He was proving a point."
Petra: snaps, turning to him "A point? Eren, your mouth was bleeding. Your eye—"
Bertholdt: gently "Petra…"
Petra: shaking her head "I can’t forget the way he looked at you. Like hurting you was just a chore. Like it didn’t cost him anything."

Her voice cracked. She quickly looked away, hiding the wetness in her eyes.

Eren: softly "He doesn’t show things the way most people do. I’m not saying what he did was right. But… he didn’t enjoy it. He just thought it had to be done."
Bertholdt: carefully "And maybe that’s why it hurts you more."

Petra didn’t respond. The wind blew gently through her hair.

Eren: glancing at her sideways, a faint smile on his lips "You’re not mad just because of me, are you?"
Petra: defensive, eyes narrowing "What does that mean?"
Bertholdt: smiling slightly "You like him."
Petra: immediately looking away "I don’t."
Eren: teasing "Mmm. Sure. And I’m the Queen of Marley."
Petra: gritting her teeth, cheeks red "He hit you, Eren. Why would I like someone like that?"
Bertholdt: quietly "Because sometimes, the heart’s an idiot."

That made Petra laugh — a short, broken sound — but it helped ease the weight in her chest.

Petra: softly "He makes me so mad… and I still… I don’t know. I wish I didn’t care."
Eren: offering a gentle smile "That’s okay. You’re allowed to feel both. Anger… and something else."
Bertholdt: leaning back on his hands "Just don’t let one feeling cancel the other. You’re human. You feel things messy."

Petra looked between them — Eren’s bruises had healed, his spirit unbroken, and Bertholdt, ever the quiet voice of reason. She let out a long breath.

Petra: finally "Thanks for sitting with me."
Eren: grinning "Of course. You’d probably get arrested if you went to punch Levi yourself."
Bertholdt: smirking "Though, I’d pay to see that."

They laughed together, gently this time. The sun dipped below the hills, and for the first time all day, Petra let herself breathe.

Next Morning — 3:00 AM

The air was still, the sky barely lit by the fading stars. Petra and Granny Lise were quietly getting ready to head back to South Mitral. The bags were packed, the cab was waiting, and sleepy goodbyes lingered in the soft silence of the early morning.

Everyone had gathered to see them off, hugging each other tightly. Granny Lise held each one in a long, warm embrace.

She reached into her worn-out purse and handed some money to Eren — her real grandson — and then to Bertholdt as well.

"Take this... just for your travels, hmm?" she said softly, her voice trembling with emotion.

Both Eren and Bertholdt shook their heads at first.
“No, Granny… it’s fine, really,” Eren said, trying to push her hand away gently.
Bertholdt echoed him, “We don’t need it. You've done so much already.”

But just as Granny was about to insist again, the boys suddenly exchanged a quick look — and then Eren pulled out a small box from his jacket pocket.

“We got something for you,” Bertholdt said with a smile.

Granny looked puzzled. Petra leaned in curiously.
Eren opened the box to reveal a small smartphone — simple, easy to use, with a colorful case and big buttons.

“We know you lost your old one,” Eren explained, “So we got this for you… Now you won’t get lost trying to find people again.”

Granny Lise stared at it, stunned. Her lips quivered. Tears pooled in her eyes, and within seconds, they rolled down her cheeks. Without a word, she pulled both of them into a trembling hug, holding them tight.

“You boys… oh, you boys…” she whispered, sobbing softly.

Everyone around stood still, watching with misty eyes. Petra sniffled quietly, trying not to cry.

Granny finally let go and looked at them with a teary smile.
“Take care of each other, and come visit… don’t forget me.”

Eren and Bertholdt nodded, their throats tight with emotion.

And with that, Granny Lise and Petra climbed into the cab, waving through the window with teary smiles as the car slowly disappeared down the quiet road, leaving behind a memory none of them would forget.

It will take 5 hours to reach South Mitral from there.
It’s only been 15 minutes since they left, but Petra already felt heavy inside.

She was sad… she didn’t know if she was ever going to see Levi again.

She was still angry at him. Really angry.

Because of what he did to Eren — beating him like that in front of everyone. Without even trying to listen. Without thinking twice.
And not just that… he scolded her too. So many times. Really cold. No concern, no softness. Like she was a stranger.

They didn’t even have a proper conversation. The last time they talked, it was all serious, strict… almost like she was in trouble. He didn’t ask how she was. Didn’t ask about her injuries. Just cold orders. She didn’t say anything back. She just took it and left.

Still… somewhere deep in her heart, something kept making her think about him.
No matter how mad she was, no matter how much she wanted to forget that day — his face kept coming to her mind.

Because he was also working in Eastern Maria now.
She didn’t know when or if they would ever meet again.
She didn’t know when she’d ever have a chance to speak to him properly — not like the last time. A real talk.

She stared out the window, biting her lip, holding back tears.

The road ahead was long. But the thoughts in her mind were longer.

And she didn’t know what hurt more — not seeing him again, or how badly things ended between them.

But she didn’t see him.
Even after the car moved past the checkpoint, Petra kept turning back… just hoping for a glimpse.
But he never came.

By 9 AM, after hours of silence and thoughts she couldn’t shake, they finally reached South Mitral.

The cab stopped in front of Petra’s dorm.
Granny Lise got out with her, helped take down the small bags, and held Petra's face gently in both hands.

“You’ll be okay, won’t you?” Granny asked softly.

Petra nodded, her eyes already misty. She pulled her into a tight hug.

“Call me when you reach home, okay?” Petra whispered.

“I will, dear.”

One last smile. One last wave.

Then Granny got back into the cab. And just like that… she was gone.

Petra turned around slowly and walked toward the dorm building.

Her feet were heavy. Her heart even more so.

When she entered her dorm room, it was quiet — warm sunlight peeking through the curtains.

Historia was already awake, sitting on the bed with her knees pulled up, scrolling through her phone. She looked up as soon as Petra walked in.

“Hey… you’re back,” Historia said with a soft smile.

Petra nodded, dropped her bag near the door, didn’t say much. She walked to her bed and slowly laid down beside her.

Historia watched her for a second, then gently put her phone away. Petra turned on her side, facing away, eyes open, not saying anything.

Historia didn’t ask questions. She didn’t need to.

She just reached out, quietly placed her hand on Petra’s back, and stayed like that.

Because sometimes, silence said more than words ever could.

Chapter Text

After that day, everything slowly went back to normal.
Life moved on Everything was okay now.
Petra started settling back into her routine.
She used her new phone to call Eren and Bertholdt every night — just to check in, tease them, laugh about silly things.
And whenever she got a little free time, even during late-night walks or between lectures, she would call Granny Lise, just to hear her voice.

College was hectic assignments piling up, tests around the corner but it was funny too.
Sasha made sure of that.She was chaos in human form. Always eating, always joking, always dragging Petra and Historia into some kind of mess.
From sneaking snacks into her class to sending memes during lectures — she made the stress bearable.

Petra’s days were full.
Early morning classes,Group studies,Random laughing fits in the dorm hallway,Pending assignments and late-night coffees.
Everything blended together like a routine she didn’t know she needed.

Venus — their little plant was growing fast too.Petra watered it every day. Historia even talked to it like it was part of their squad.
They once joked that if Venus bloomed, it meant something good was coming.

Days passed She was healing.
She still thought of him sometimes — Levi — especially when things got quiet.
But she didn’t let it swallow her anymore.
Because life… was moving forward.

~in college

It was after lunch break. The sun was still harsh, and the benches near the back garden of the college were half-shaded.
Petra and Sasha had escaped from the noisy cafeteria and were sitting under a tree, eating chips.Sasha was happily eating her chips swinging her legs lazily, while Petra sat quietly beside her,
Sasha suddenly looked over. “Hey… you’ve been weird lately.”
Petra blinked. “What?”
“Weird,” Sasha said again, crunching another chip. “Like, you laugh and all, but you zone out sometimes. And when you do, you look like you’re thinking about something—or someone.”

Petra stayed quiet.
Sasha sat up straight this time, serious now. “Is something wrong?”
There was a pause.
Then Petra exhaled. She stared at her phone for a second, then put it aside.
“…Can I tell you something?” she said softly.
Sasha nodded, already sitting cross-legged and ready.
Petra hesitated… then finally began.
She told her everything.
About that week back in her hometown.
About she falling, the watermelons, getting caught in the restricted zone…
About how Levi showed up out of nowhere with his whole squad.
How he scolded her.
How cold he was.
How he beat Eren in front of her.
Sasha’s eyes were wide the whole time.
“He really hit him?” she asked.
Petra nodded slowly. “Yeah. Hard. In front of us. I was angry. I still am. But…”

She hugged her knees.
“But I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I miss him. Not the soldier version of him I saw that day. But… the Levi I knew before. The one who helped me. The one who looked out for me even without saying a word.”

Sasha was quiet now. She wasn’t chewing anymore.
Petra looked down. “I don’t even know if he ever cared. Or if he changed. Or if it’s just… me.”
“I’m angry,” she whispered, voice trembling. “But still, some part of me… keeps waiting. For no reason.”
Sasha placed the chip packet down and scooted next to her, leaning her head on Petra’s shoulder.
“You know what that sounds like?” she said softly.
“That sounds like someone who cared a lot… and got hurt by someone they didn’t expect would hurt them.”
Petra didn’t say anything. Her eyes welled up a little.
“You don’t have to decide what to feel right now,” Sasha continued. “You’re allowed to be mad. And miss him. At the same time.”
Petra looked down and nodded slowly.
“I just don’t know what to do,” she said.

Sasha gave a small smile. “Then don’t do anything. Let time pass. You’ll know when it’s right.”
They stayed like that for a while.
Petra’s heart still ached…
But somehow, saying it all out loud made it a little easier to breathe.

---
It was one of those quiet nights—eerily silent, the kind that made your skin crawl. Even though the rainy season had ended long ago, tonight the sky poured as if trying to wash away the world. Heavy rain hammered the rooftop of the convenience store, blurring the view outside, making everything seem distant… detached.

Inside, it was unusually still. The store, usually buzzing with late-night customers, was empty. Petra sat behind the billing counter, scrolling through her phone lazily, the dull buzz of the ceiling lights the only sound besides the rain.
Then the door creaked open. The little chime rang.

Someone—or maybe a group—had entered.

They didn’t browse. They didn’t touch a single shelf. They walked straight to the counter.
Petra barely glanced up, expecting a customer with a quick snack run. But when her eyes lifted and met his, the blood in her face drained.

Her lips trembled.

Han.

Her stepbrother.

The last time she saw him was three months ago—the day he tried to assault her.

The memory slammed into her like a cold wave. That day had blurred into panic and terror, but one thing remained sharp: Levi’s punch. Swift and violent. He had pulled Han off her, fists flying in a fury Petra had never seen in anyone before. And just like that, Han was gone—vanished.

She thought that was the end.

She prayed it was.

But now, here he stood. In front of her. Soaking wet, a twisted grin curling on his lips. Like a ghost that refused to stay buried.

There’s no way…
He wasn’t supposed to find her.

Her hand slipped under the counter slowly, fingers fumbling toward the emergency button.
Her heart raced, her mind screamed.
Was he alone? Were the others behind him? What did he want now?

Han tilted his head, mockingly gentle.
“Did you miss me, Petra?” he said, voice low and oily.

Petra was trembling.

Her throat was tight, her heart pounding so loudly it drowned out even the storm outside. Han didn’t touch her at first—he just stood there in front of the counter, soaked from the rain, staring at her like she was filth beneath his feet.
Then the words started.
Ugly. Vile. Twisting every memory, every scar, back at her like she was the villain.
He called her names. Accused her. Blamed her.

And then he said it.

“You really think you’re gonna get a peaceful life after what you did to me and Dad?”

His voice dropped into a growl.

Before she could respond, before her mind could even process—
He grabbed her dress.
His hand shot over the counter, clutching the fabric tightly.
Then, with a harsh shove, he pushed her back. Petra stumbled, her feet slipping slightly on the wet floor. She fell—but luckily, not hard. Her back hit the cold tile with a thud, but no injuries. Just shock. Just fear.

She lay there frozen for a moment.

Han didn’t look at her again.
Without a word, he turned and stepped outside, disappearing into the rain.
The door swung slowly behind him, the chime ringing faintly through the storm.

Petra sat up, breathing hard. Her body was fine—but her mind… it wasn’t.

He found her.

After all this time, all the running, all the hiding—he found her.

And now she knew:

She wasn’t safe anymore.

Not even under bright store lights. Not even behind security cameras or quiet towns.
Her hand shook as she pulled her knees up, trying to breathe.

Petra reached the hostel, shoes soggy, hair damp, and her heart heavier than ever.
She didn’t say anything to Historia, who was lying on the bed reading a book with her headphones on. Historia gave her a small smile and a wave, but Petra just returned a nod, her expression unreadable. No words. No energy.

The moment she lay on her bed, the weight of the day pressed down on her like a wet blanket. She stared at the ceiling, her fingers curled tightly around her phone.

Then it buzzed.

Sasha.

A video call.

Petra answered with a weak smile. Sasha was her usual bubbly self, laughing about how she got caught sneaking extra food from the canteen, how someone slipped on the wet corridor floor, and how a professor accidentally called her by the wrong name for the entire lecture.

Petra listened. Laughed faintly. Replied with a few "yeahs" and "no way"—but she said nothing about the store.

Nothing about Han.

The fear. The trembling. The way he said she didn’t deserve peace.

She couldn't say it.

After the call, Petra lay in silence again—until a new message popped up.

Bertholdt had sent pictures.

Photos from the riverside, taken during their countryside trip. Petra opened them slowly.

There was one of Eren holding a watermelon slice with a proud grin. One where Bertholdt’s camera had caught Sasha mid-jump into the river. And one where Petra stood with the boys, all three of them drenched and laughing under the sun.

Her heart softened.

Even though that day had chaos—Levi biting Eren after Eren talked back for breaking lockdown rules and sneaking out to the river—it was still one of the happiest days she had in months.

That fight, the tension, the rush of sneaking around...
It was wild, but it was full of life.

Safe life.

She scrolled through more photos. Then paused on one where she stood near the riverbank, looking over her shoulder, the wind catching her hair. A peaceful kind of glow on her face. One she barely recognized now.

Petra sighed.

But deep down, she knew—Han was back. And he wasn’t done.

And no number of old pictures could erase the chill that still clung to her skin.

After that night, Petra feared seeing him again.

Her stepbrother — Han.

That rainy night haunted her. The storm wasn’t just in the sky; it was in his voice, in his eyes, in the way his presence made her shrink back. She didn’t talk about it. Not to her friends, not to Granny, not even to herself out loud.

But the fear lingered.

For days, Petra jumped at sudden sounds. The wind rattling her window. A door slamming shut in the hallway. Every time it rained, her hands went cold, her breathing shallow. She was convinced he’d come back. That he would attack her again.

He didn’t.

Han vanished after that night — no messages, no calls, no trace. But Petra couldn’t shake the feeling: he’s not gone. He’s waiting. Watching. Planning.

She tried to be brave. Told herself she wasn’t the type to live in fear.
But deep down, she believed it:

He is a monster.

And monsters don’t disappear for good.

---

But time kept moving, even when she didn’t feel ready.

Weeks turned into months. Autumn leaves fell, and winter crept in. The sky got colder, the nights quieter. Her campus smelled like damp books, hot coffee, and tired students racing toward deadlines.

Slowly, Petra began to feel... okay.
She studied with Sasha and Historia most evenings — sometimes in cafés, sometimes on her dorm floor surrounded by notes and snacks. But they made her laugh. Helped her feel safe again.
Granny’s voice over phone calls made the ache in her chest ease.
Eren and bertholt chaotic voice notes always came at the right time — just when Petra felt too tired to smile.

Life wasn’t perfect, but it was hers again.
Still, there was one thing missing. One name that hadn’t come up in a long time: Levi.
She hadn’t seen him since... well, since everything. Not even a glimpse.
Once, while calling Connie about a study guide, Petra had casually asked who’d been around HQ.
“Oh — same old people. Captain Levi showed up for some field report,” he’d said offhandedly.

That was it. Nothing more.

Petra didn’t ask. She just nodded to herself. Quiet.

She no longer had Levi’s number. It got lost when she changed phones after that week — a small part of her wondered if she subconsciously let it go on purpose. She had no way to contact him. And honestly, she didn’t know if she wanted to.

She wasn't even sure if he’d want her to.

---

It was a quiet night. Petra lay curled on her bed, the soft hum of the ceiling fan the only sound filling the room. The glow from her phone screen dimmed as she scrolled aimlessly, lost in thought, until suddenly—it buzzed.

Hange was calling.

That alone was enough to make Petra sit upright. Hange never called unless something important was going on. Texts? Sure. Random memes? Always. But a call? That was rare.

She picked up quickly.
“Hi—Hange-san? Everything okay?” she asked, voice still a little groggy.

“Hyyy Petra!” came the familiar, lively voice on the other end. “Did I disturb you?”

Petra let out a tiny laugh, brushing her hair back. “No, not really. I was just laying down. What about you? How’s the military treating you these days?”

“Hectic as ever. Paperwork, field work, and people trying to die every day—it’s a full-time job.” Hange chuckled, but Petra could hear the exhaustion in her tone.

“Sounds… fun,” Petra said dryly. “College is also a mess. Two semesters done already. I blinked and everything moved on without warning.”

“Time doesn’t wait for anyone—not even cute redheads like you,” Hange teased lightly. Then, after a pause, her tone shifted. “Petra… I actually called to ask you something important.”

Petra sat up straighter. “To me? About what?”

“Do you know a girl named Annie Leonhart?”

Petra furrowed her brow. “Yeah, I know her. She’s one of my juniors. Not close, though. She’s friends with a girl in my class. Why?”

“Anything odd about her? Anything you’ve noticed?”

“Not really. She barely talks to anyone. Very introverted. Creepy, in a way—but maybe just misunderstood. Something wrong with her?”

“Not wrong, per se. Just… she came up in something we’re looking into. But I can’t share details. Military stuff.”

“Hmm, okay. She’s not a troublemaker or anything. Just quiet and keeps to herself. Doesn’t even show up for most events.”

“Got it. Thanks, Petra. I figured you’d have a better read on her than anyone else.”

There was a brief silence on the line before Hange spoke again—this time, softly.

“And you? How’s your health been?”

Petra hesitated. “Same as before. The endometriosis took a bad turn last week.”

“Oh no. What happened?”

“It’s affecting everything. I had to take more than five days off. My attendance is barely hanging on, and the pain…” Petra trailed off. Her voice cracked slightly. “Some nights I just curl up and cry. I hate missing things. I hate falling behind. But my body doesn’t cooperate.”

“Petra… I’m sorry.” Hange’s voice was gentle now, sincere. “I wish I could do something.”

“You’re doing something already. You called. That’s more than enough,” Petra smiled faintly.

“I wish you told me earlier. We soldiers are good at surviving pain, you know. Maybe I could’ve helped.”

“I didn’t want to bother anyone, especially you. You’re dealing with life and death every day. My cramps and fatigue seemed… small.”

“Never think that. Pain is pain. Yours is valid too. And besides, you're my friend, not just some college student I check in on.”

Petra felt her throat tighten. “Thank you, Hange-san.”

“Anytime. And if things get worse—if you ever feel like you're drowning—promise me you’ll tell me. Or someone. Don’t bottle it all up, okay?”

“Okay. I promise.”

The conversation shifted after that. They talked for a while longer about nonsense—college gossip, weird military rations, Eren’s latest disaster, and Sasha’s obsession with sweet potatoes. Petra found herself laughing, something she hadn’t done in days.
And when the call finally ended, and the quiet night returned… it felt a little warmer than before.

Levi’s POV~

It was a quiet night at HQ. there was talk about a group of criminals. One of them was connected to a girl named Annie Leonhart. I’d never heard that name before. According to the reports, she was a student at South Mitral University.
We couldn’t launch a direct search just yet—too risky, too visible.
That’s when Hange suggested something.

“Petra studies there, right?” she said casually, like she didn’t just drop a name I hadn’t heard in months.
The moment I heard it, my heart paused. Petra.
It had been a long time since I saw her. The last time wasn’t pleasant. I was cold, maybe too harsh. She looked at me like she didn’t know me anymore. Since then—nothing. Not a word from her. Hange would mention her now and then, in passing, but never much.

Then Hange called her.

She put the phone on speaker. Me, Hange, Erwin, Mike, and Nile were all there, listening.
Her voice.
Even after all this time, it still caught me off guard. Soft, steady, and too familiar.
She spoke clearly, said she knew Annie—just vaguely. A junior, maybe. Someone she’d seen around.
She gave us what information she could, then Hange turned off the speaker and talked to her privately for a while.
After that, we got back to the matter at hand: Annie Leonhart. But part of me was still stuck on the voice I hadn't heard in months.

_The next day_

Author POV~

It was a rainy morning—4 a.m., quiet and cold. Petra stepped out of her hostel, the hood of her oversized sweatshirt pulled snug over her head as droplets clung to the fabric. The world was still asleep, but she was already on her way, walking alone through the empty streets.
She was heading to the main library, a good thirty-minute walk from her hostel. There was a smaller one nearby, but it didn’t have the book she needed for her third semester. The buses hadn’t started running yet, but Petra didn’t mind. She liked walking. The rain, the silence, the distance—it all gave her time to breathe, to think.
She had always been someone who carried quiet resolve. Petra wanted to achieve something in life—not just for herself, but for all the people who had helped her along the way. So many had supported her during difficult times, and she didn’t want to burden anyone anymore. That thought followed her like a shadow.
Even though she worked part-time, it was barely enough to manage everything—rent, food, college essentials. Still, she never complained. She pushed forward, step by step, even when it rained.
Because dreams, she believed, are built not just with talent—but with discipline, gratitude, and early mornings like this.
The streets were nearly empty, lit only by the soft orange glow of old streetlights. The rain had softened now, a steady drizzle soaking the pavement. Winter was near—you could feel it in the air. The rain wasn’t just rain; it was a quiet prelude to the snow that would soon blanket everything.

Petra walked on, her hood still up, headphones nestled in her ears. Music played gently—her favorite playlist keeping her company through the silence. The world was hushed, and so was her heart, but there was a strange kind of joy in it all.
She didn’t rush. Each step splashed slightly in the puddles, her spirit calm. The solitude didn’t feel lonely—just peaceful. Her playlist matched the mood perfectly, soft vocals and quiet beats echoing in her mind as she passed by quiet shops, locked gates, and rows of sleeping trees.
Despite the weight of responsibilities, the lack of money, and the long walk, Petra smiled faintly to herself.

This was her moment. A simple one. But hers.

After fifteen minutes of walking, Petra approached a small 24-hour convenience store. A van was parked outside, along with a few cars. Under the dim streetlights, a handful of people stood sipping hot drinks and chatting quietly.
She paused for a moment, eyeing the warm glow inside the store. The thought of a hot drink tempted her—just something to warm her frozen hands. But she knew better. She didn’t have enough money to spare.
With a soft sigh, Petra tucked her hands into her sleeves and picked up her pace, trying to avoid looking at the people. But as she passed under one of the streetlights, her eyes caught a familiar figure standing just close enough to recognize.

Mike Zacharias.
Survey Corps.

Her breath caught.
What is he doing here…?

They were supposed to be in Eastern Maria. What were the Scouts doing here, in South Mitral? Her heart skipped. If Mike was here, then surely Levi, Hange—everyone—must be close by.
She didn’t know what scared her more—the possibility of running into them, or the emotions that would come rushing back if she did.
Instinctively, Petra pulled her hoodie further down over her face, lowered her head, and walked faster, pretending not to notice. Mike hadn’t seen her—she hoped. The others were too far in the shadows to make out their faces. Her heart was pounding against her ribs, too loud in her ears.

And then, it happened.

Lost in her thoughts, she didn’t see the slick patch of moss on the pavement.
Her foot slid out from under her. Before she could catch herself, she fell forward—hard.
A dull thud echoed in the silent street.
She didn’t scream, but the sound of her fall was loud enough to draw attention. Her bag flew open, papers and notes spilling onto the wet street, some quickly soaking through. Her hands scraped against the rough, damp pavement—thin lines of blood already appearing on her palms and knuckles.
She stayed down for a second, stunned by the fall, her face inches from the ground. Rain trickled down the back of her neck. Her books… her notes… ruined. Her jaw clenched—not from pain, but from frustration and embarrassment.

She wanted to disappear.

Petra scrambled to get up, her legs shaky beneath her. Her heart pounded, not just from the fall but from the knowledge that all eyes were now on her. She didn’t have to look up to know people had turned toward the sound—toward her.
She tried to push herself up with her bleeding hands, but before she could

steady herself, she felt strong arms wrap around her waist.

Without a word, someone lifted her gently by the hips and helped her back to her feet.She’s froze.The grip… the stillness… the scent of tea and steel.She didn’t need to look up.

It was Levi.

Before she could say anything, someone else—she couldn’t even process who—was already crouched, gathering her soaked notes and damp books, slipping them carefully back into her bag.
Her hands stung. The skin was scraped, dirty, and wet. She looked down at the blood smeared across her palms, the mix of rain and dirt making it worse.

“Idiot,” Levi muttered under his breath, though his voice was softer than she remembered.

He pulled a small water bottle from his coat, unscrewed the cap, and without waiting for permission, began gently rinsing the dirt from her hands. The water was cold, but his touch was careful. His thumb brushed along the worst scrape, checking it without saying much.
Suddenly, Hange appeared beside them, her hair a little messy from the rain, eyes wide with concern. “Petra? What the hell are you doing out here at this hour?”

Moblit, Mike, and a few other soldiers were already gathering around. One of them was holding her bag now, protecting the books with his jacket.

“Are you hurt anywhere else?” Mike asked, stepping closer.
“Why are you walking alone in this weather?” Moblit added, brows furrowed with worry.

Petra stood frozen, overwhelmed by the attention. Her throat tightened. She had no words—only the sharp sting in her palms and the heat rising in her chest, not from embarrassment anymore, but from something far more complicated.
She hadn’t expected this.
Not now.
Not here.
Not them.

Petra was really embarrassed.
Really, really embarrassed.

Every time they saw her, it was always something like this. Some trouble. Some mistake. Some mess. She didn’t mean for it to happen, but somehow, it always did.
She sat in a chair inside the small convenience store, completely soaked from the fall on the wet pavement, her hoodie dripping, and her hands scraped and stinging. Her books were in a mess, half-wet, stacked beside her on the table.
Levi had made her sit there without a word, and now the others were standing around her—Hange, Moblit, Mike. They were clearly surprised to see her here like this.

Hange leaned down, voice gentle. “Petra? What were you doing out here so early?”
Moblit added, “You alright? You look like you’ve been walking for a while.”

Petra kept her eyes low, her voice soft and embarrassed. “I was… going to the library. The one near my hostel didn’t have the book I needed. I have to prepare for my semester.”
She paused. “There’s no bus at this hour. And… I didn’t want to bother anyone”

Levi had been standing with his arms crossed, silent. But now, his voice cut through.
“Tch,” he muttered. “You don’t think, do you?”

Petra looked up, startled.

He stepped a little closer, clearly annoyed. “You walked. Alone. In the rain. At 4 a.m. Do you hear yourself?”

“I didn’t mean—”

“Doesn’t matter what you meant,” he interrupted, cold. “You slipped on the street. You’re hurt. You’re lucky it was us who found you.”
Petra stayed quiet, biting her lip. She hated how this always happened.
Levi sighed, shaking his head slightly. “You’re always like this. Clumsy. Careless. You don’t ask for help, and then we end up picking up after you.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

He didn’t answer right away. Just stared at her, eyes sharp.

Then finally, he muttered, “Don’t do stupid things like this again.”
He tossed a small towel onto her lap. “Dry off. You’ll get sick.”

Even though he sounded annoyed, Petra could tell—he was worried.
And that made her feel even more embarrassed.
A few moments passed in silence. Petra sat quietly, drying her hands with the towel Levi had given her. Her hoodie was still damp, sticking to her arms, but her cheeks felt hotter than anything — flushed from embarrassment.
Then someone placed a warm can of coffee in front of her.
“Here,” Hange said softly, setting it on the table. “It’s not much, but it’ll warm you up.”
Petra looked up, surprised. “Ah—thank you…”

Just then, the rain outside started coming down harder — not the light drizzle from before, but a loud, heavy downpour that crashed against the glass windows and echoed across the empty street.
She glanced outside nervously. It was already 4:30. Time was slipping. And she still hadn’t reached the library.
She fumbled with her bag, pulling out a folded raincoat. She kept it for moments like this — only if the rain got worse.
Moblit noticed and raised an eyebrow. “You’re seriously thinking about going out again?”

“I have to,” she said quickly. “It’ll take me more time if I wait. I have to copy those notes before the library gets busy.”
Mike leaned against the counter. “You’re that desperate?”
Petra nodded. “I need to catch up on a lot. And if I don’t get that book today…”

Levi cut her off, voice cold. “You’re not going anywhere.”
She looked up, startled. “But—”
“I said no,” he repeated, sharper this time. “You’re already soaked. Your hands are scraped. You want to fall again? What, until you break something next time?”
“I’ll wear the raincoat—”
“No,” he said, without letting her finish. “You're staying here until the rain stops.”
Hange tried to lighten the mood. “Maybe let her at least explain, Levi—”
“She already did,” he snapped. “And it was stupid.”

Petra bit her lip, fists clenched around the towel. She didn’t argue anymore.

Levi turned away, facing the windows. His voice came quieter now, but still cold. “People like you… never think about consequences. You run yourself into the ground, and then expect someone to pull you back up. Every time.”
Petra looked down. She wasn’t crying, but the silence around her was thick.
Still, she opened the warm coffee and took a small sip. It burned her tongue a little — but she didn’t mind. It was comforting, in a strange way. Everyone had gone quiet again. Watching the rain. Watching her.

And though Levi stood with his back to her, arms still folded…

He hadn’t walked away.

After a while, the storm began to calm. The sound of heavy rain softened into a steady drizzle. The thick fog lifted just enough to see the road again.
Petra glanced outside, quietly exhaling. The rain was still falling, but it was bearable now — not like before.
Inside, the mood had shifted. The members of the Survey Corps began gathering their things, preparing to move out again. They had their own mission, their own destination. Petra knew that.
She stood up slowly, pulling her coat b on, still damp and wrinkled from earlier. Her hands ached from the fall, the bandages already loosening a little.
Levi hadn’t spoken to her again. He stood by the entrance, arms crossed, eyes flicking from her to the street and back again. Distant. Cold. Still watching.

Hange came toward her with a half-smile. “We’re heading off soon. Come on, Petra. We'll drop you on the way.”
Mike nodded. “You’re going the same direction, right?”
Petra’s eyes widened slightly. She appreciated it — really did — but she didn’t want to trouble them any more.
“Ah… no, it’s okay,” she said quickly, gently shaking her head. “You’re all going somewhere else, I think. And I’ll just slow you down.”
Moblit frowned. “It’s not a big deal. You’re not in great shape right now.”
Petra forced a small smile. “I’ll manage. Really. I’ve already wasted enough of your time.”

She turned to grab the small bag they’d used earlier — the one someone had filled with coffee, tissues, and the first-aid supplies. She held it out with both hands.
“Also… thank you for this. I don’t know who brought it but…” she paused, eyes lowering, “I’ll return the cost somehow, I promise.”
Hange waved it off. “Oh please. It’s just a drink and some gauze.”
But Petra insisted, carefully placing the bag near the counter. “Still. I don’t want to take it for free.”
She looked toward Levi again. He didn’t say anything. Just glanced at her once, then turned away like he didn’t care. But she knew he was listening.
She gave them all a small, polite bow.
“Thank you again. For stopping. For everything.”

The street was still damp, the sky still grey — but Petra stepped back outside quietly, raincoat half-zipped, determined to finish what she started.
And though no one said it out loud…
All of them, especially Levi, watched her until she disappeared into the mist.

---

After that, Petra continued walking through the quiet streets.

The rain had stopped completely now, leaving the air cold and heavy with moisture. Her shoes squished softly against the wet pavement as she made her way forward, her raincoat clinging damply to her frame. There were barely any people around — only a few shopkeepers setting up early stalls, street cleaners passing by silently, and dim golden lights still glowing across the town.
By the time she reached the library, it was already close to 5 a.m.
Her hands were still sore and bandaged, but she didn’t waste any time. She greeted the sleepy librarian softly, signed in, and immediately went straight to the third floor where the archives were kept. The book she needed was still there — heavy, worn out, and packed with information she couldn’t afford to miss.

She opened her notebook, clicked her pen, and began.
Petra studied for hours — focused, quiet, and determined.
She only stopped for small breaks — to refill her water bottle, to stretch her back, or to eat a cheap snack she packed in her bag. Her phone stayed on silent. She didn’t check messages. She didn’t want distractions.
Time moved quietly.
Light streamed in through the windows by noon, and faded slowly by afternoon. She barely noticed. Her mind stayed in the pages.
By the time she closed the last book, her fingers were sore from writing and her eyes stung a little. She rubbed them gently and glanced at the clock.
It was already evening.

She stood up, packed everything slowly and stepped outside.
The cold hit her immediately — but this time, it wasn’t just cold.
It was snowing. Soft, fine flakes drifting from the grey sky, swirling gently in the air like feathers.Petra looked up.
The snow wasn’t heavy yet — just enough to cover rooftops and trees in a pale white layer. It was beautiful. And quiet. The whole world seemed to slow down.

She smiled faintly, tugging her hood over her head again.

The walk back to the dorm was going to be longer now — colder too. But she didn’t mind.
Her bag was heavy with notes, her body ached, but her heart felt a little lighter.

Even after everything… she made it.

-------

As she walked along the sidewalk, the last person she ever expected to see suddenly appeared in front of the street—Han, her stepbrother. He stood there, silently staring at her with a chilling, almost inhuman smile stretched across his face. For a moment, she froze. It had been months since he vanished without a trace, and now—without warning—he was back.
Her heart pounded. She didn’t know whether to run or scream or simply pretend he wasn’t real. Before she could move, Han stepped toward her with quiet menace in his steps. His voice came low and venomous, filled with cruelty as he hurled bitter, hateful words at her—accusations, twisted blame, and insults.

Then, without warning, he struck her across the face. The blow stung sharply, and she tasted blood at the corner of her lips. His hand gripped her hair tightly, yanking her forward.
“Don’t get too happy with your life,” he hissed, eyes burning with resentment. “You’re going to pay—for what you did to me… and to my father.”

And just as quickly as he had appeared, Han turned and disappeared into the opposite direction, leaving her stunned and trembling in the silence that followed.

As soon as his figure vanished into the night, Petra stood frozen, unable to move. Her breath came in shallow gasps, her heart pounding like it was trying to escape her chest.

Then the tears came—suddenly, silently at first—until she found herself stumbling to the nearest bench near the bus stop, legs too shaky to carry her farther.

She sat down and buried her face in her hands, the weight of everything crashing down at once.

“Why does this always happen to me…?” she whispered.

The street around her was quiet. Too quiet. Just the distant hum of passing cars and the wind moving through the trees. But inside her, it felt like a storm.
It wasn’t just tonight. It wasn’t just Han.
It was everything.
No matter how hard she tried to move forward, no matter how far she ran from her past—it always came back. Every time she thought things were finally calm, something would snap. Something would break. Someone would come back to tear it all down.
Her fingers trembled as she reached up and gently touched her lip. A sharp sting made her wince. There was blood—just a little—but it was enough to bring her crashing into the moment again.
She wiped it away shakily, then touched her cheek, feeling the warm, rising heat of where he had struck her. Her skin was red and tender, and not just from the impact—but from shame, fear, and confusion.

Tears spilled down her cheeks freely now. She didn’t even try to stop them.
“What did I ever do to deserve this?” she whispered, voice cracking.

She thought of her mother. Of college. Of the life she was trying to build. Of the people who told her she was strong, who said the past was behind her.

But Han's voice still echoed in her ears.

"You’re going to pay..."

She wrapped her arms tightly around herself, trying to feel safe—even if just for a second.

But deep inside, she already knew.

This wasn’t the end.

And she didn’t know if she could face what was coming next—alone.

Soft flakes fell from the sky in quiet spirals, blanketing the street in white. The cold settled deep into her bones, but Petra barely noticed. She was sitting on that bench near the bus stop, her tears now frozen to her cheeks, eyes staring blankly at the pavement.
The world around her was hushed, muffled by the snow. Even time felt like it had slowed. But inside, everything hurt.
She glanced at her phone.

6:57 p.m.

It was already too late to be out. The streets were mostly empty now, shops closing, people indoors where it was warm. But Petra remained in the cold, her body trembling—not just from the freezing wind, but from everything that had happened.
Finally, after what felt like forever, she rose from the bench. Her legs were unsteady, her shoulders hunched. She began walking slowly, her breath fogging in the frigid air.
Her mind kept circling back to Han. That stare. That twisted smile. His voice.
Her lips stung, the cut still fresh. Her cheek throbbed under the skin. And her heart… felt shattered.
Every step felt heavier than the last. Her tears hadn't stopped—only slowed. She sniffled quietly, wiping her face with her sleeve, but the cold wind only made it sting worse.
Then, as she turned down the quieter part of the road leading toward her apartment, her foot slipped on a patch of ice.
A gasp escaped her lips as her body tilted—then hit the ground hard.
The icy street cut into her palms as she tried to break her fall. Her already bandaged hands tore open again. She felt the burn instantly, followed by the sting of fresh blood leaking through the fabric.

She stayed there for a moment—knees scraped, hands bleeding again, snow clinging to her hoodie and hair.
And then she started sobbing.
Not just crying—but sobbing, deeply, painfully. Her voice cracked with each breath, but she kept it muffled. She didn’t want anyone to hear. Didn’t want to be seen like this. She wanted to disappear into the snow and the silence.
With great effort, she pushed herself up again, clutching her wounded hands close to her chest. The pain didn’t matter. Nothing mattered right now except putting one foot in front of the other.
She walked slowly, limping slightly, snow crunching beneath her shoes. The tears came quietly now, mixing with the falling snow on her cheeks.
She didn’t even know if she’d be able to face anyone when she got the dorm. Not her friends. She didn’t want to talk. Didn’t want to explain.
She just wanted it all to stop.

But in that cold, lonely night, as snow fell quietly around her broken figure, Petra kept walking—because what else could she do?

She had no choice but to survive.
Even when it hurt.

The snow was light, but the wind was biting now.
Petra’s feet dragged on the pavement as she forced herself forward, cheeks red from cold and pain. The streets were almost empty. Her dorm was still a fifteen-minute walk away, and her body had already started to tremble. The slap still throbbed against her face, but she ignored it.
She kept walking… until the sound of a car engine suddenly hummed beside her.
A sleek, black luxury vehicle rolled up next to the sidewalk. Petra flinched slightly as the window lowered.

“Petra?!” Hange leaned out from the front passenger seat, wide-eyed. “What the hell—are you walking back right now?”
Petra blinked, startled. “Hange-san…?”
“Are you crazy? It’s freezing, and you look like you’re about to pass out! Get in.”
“I-I’m okay, really, I can walk—”
“Moblit, unlock the doors,” Hange said, ignoring her. The car door clicked.
Petra hesitated, then got in quietly. She sat in the back seat.
She froze again.

Levi was right next to her. Arms crossed, eyes sharp, staring straight at her. He was in dark casual clothes, not his uniform. So was Mike, sitting beside the door, looking calm but observant.
They looked like they had just returned from a formal event or dinner. But their expressions changed the moment they got a good look at Petra.
“From five in the morning to seven at night in the library?” Mike asked, frowning. “That’s overkill, Petra.”
“Why the hell are your hands bleeding again?” Levi muttered.
Petra glanced down. “It’s just… from earlier. It’s nothing.”

“And your face?” Levi’s voice was low, but biting now. “Your cheek’s red. It wasn’t like that this morning.”
Petra’s heart skipped. She looked away immediately.
“Who did that?” Levi asked.

Silence.

Hange looked back from the front seat, worried. “Petra, what happened?”
“I-It’s nothing, really. Just the wind, maybe. I didn’t notice—”
“Don’t lie,” Levi snapped. “It’s a slap mark. You didn’t fall again. So who was it?”
Petra swallowed hard. Her throat tightened. She couldn’t speak.
Levi narrowed his eyes.

“You’re not saying anything?”

She stayed frozen. Eyes down. Hands clenched on her lap.
“That means you’re scared of them,” he said, voice quieter but sharper. “You’re protecting someone who hurt you.”
Petra's lips trembled. She shook her head slowly, still not speaking.

Levi leaned back slightly, jaw clenched. “Pathetic.”

The word hit her harder than the cold.
“You think hiding it makes you strong?” he added. “It doesn’t. It makes you vulnerable. It makes you an easy target.”
Hange gently said, “Levi…”

But he didn’t stop.
If something’s happening to you, you talk. You tell someone. You don’t walk around bleeding and silent like you’re supposed to suffer alone.”

Tears stung the corners of her eyes, but she wiped them away quickly. “I’m sorry…”
“I don’t want an apology,” Levi said, flatly. “I want you to stop being so reckless and start using your brain.”

The rest of the ride was silent. Petra pressed her forehead against the cold glass of the window, watching the snow blur the world outside.

She didn’t know if she was more hurt by Han’s attack… or by the fact that Levi was right.

The car moved slowly through the crowded main road. Traffic was terrible — honking everywhere, lines of cars barely moving.
Petra sat silently in the back seat, her eyes on the falling snow outside. Her fingers played nervously with her coat zipper. The silence made her more anxious.
She turned a bit to Hange in the front seat.
“Hange-san…”
Her voice was soft.
Hange turned slightly, still watching the road.
“Hm? What is it, Petra?”
“Are you guys heading somewhere?”
She tried to sound casual.
Hange smiled a little.
“Ahh no, nothing urgent. We just came back from a party.”
Then added quickly,
“You know… even soldiers deserve weekends, right?”
Petra smiled a bit, politely.
“We came back to South Mitral for a short mission. But Erwin gave us some off-days. We’ll be here for a month, I think.”

“Ohh… okay. That’s good,” Petra nodded.

There was a pause.
Then Hange turned slightly more serious.
“…Petra.”

Petra blinked, surprised at the sudden tone.

“Tell me the truth. Is someone bothering you again?”

Petra froze.
Hange’s voice was calm, but firm.
“You’re not a problem, okay? And even if you were… that’s our job. We’re soldiers. We’re supposed to make civilians feel safe. Especially someone like you.”
Petra looked down.
“I’m okay, Hange-san. Really. It’s nothing… maybe just the cold or—”
Levi suddenly spoke, cutting her off.“Even that slap mark?”
Petra froze again.
His voice was cold. Quiet. But the words hit like a knife.No one spoke for a moment.Petra turned her face toward the window again, biting her lip gently — the same lip that still stung.
Hange looked at Levi through the mirror but didn’t say anything. She knew that tone.Levi crossed his arms, eyes still on Petra.“You're bad at hiding things. Just so you know.”

Petra didn’t respond.
Outside, the snowfall got heavier.

---

Suddenly, Petra bit down on her lip — harder than she realized. A sharp sting followed. The metallic taste of blood spread in her mouth.
She winced quietly, bringing her fingers to her lips. Her skin was pale from the cold, but now her lip was clearly bleeding.
Levi noticed it immediately.“Tch.”
He reached into the console and tossed a packet of tissues toward her without a word.
Petra took it with shaky fingers, whispering,“Thank you...”
She dabbed at her lip, trying to hide the pain in her expression. Her eyes didn’t meet anyone’s — instead, they focused on the rainy window.
The snowfall had slowed, but the road was still jammed with traffic. Horns blared. Red taillights flickered endlessly ahead.
In the silence of the car, only the hum of the heater and the faint tapping of snowflakes on the windshield could be heard.
Levi glanced at her from the corner of his eye.
“If it hurts that bad, stop biting it.”

Petra gave a tiny nod, her voice almost too quiet.
“…Sorry.”

Levi didn’t reply.
Hange turned her head slightly, watching Petra with concern, but she didn’t push further. Not now.
The mood in the car remained tense — thick with things unsaid. Petra still hadn’t told them the truth. But Levi wasn’t letting it go unnoticed.

---
Petra’s phone buzzed quietly in her jeans pocket.

She hesitated for a moment, then slowly answered it.

“Heyy Petra, where are you now?”
It was Historia.

Petra’s voice was barely a whisper.
“I’m… on the way back. Why?”

Historia’s tone dropped slightly, serious.
“I’m saying this because… back there, near the bus stop by our dorm— I saw your stepdad.”

Petra’s heart dropped. Her fingers tightened around the phone. Her throat felt like it was closing.

“T-Today evening?” she barely managed to say.

“Yeah. He was just standing there, looking around like he was waiting for someone. I didn’t go near, but… I thought you should know.”

Petra didn’t say anything for a few seconds. She couldn’t. Her mind went blank. Her body stiff.

Historia paused.
“Petra…? You okay?”

“Yeah… I— I’m okay. Thank you, Historia.”

She hung up before she could be asked anything more.
Suddenly, her lips started to tremble. She clutched her coat tighter, looking down at her hands. Her fingers curled into her lap. Shame, fear, and panic all rushed in at once. Her heart pounded, but no one said anything at first.
Except… everyone was staring.
Especially Levi.
His voice broke the silence—low, cold, and sharp as a blade.
“You’re still not gonna tell us what the hell happened?”

Petra flinched.

No answer.

Levi leaned slightly toward her. His eyes narrowed, watching her carefully.
“That phone call was enough. The way you’re shaking, the way you’ve been quiet all day— and now this?”His voice stayed low but dangerous.“You think hiding it’s gonna make it go away?”
Petra’s lips parted, but no words came. Her eyes started to well with tears, but she blinked them away quickly.
“Tch.” Levi turned his face forward, jaw clenched.
“You’re not doing yourself any favors acting like nothing happened. You're just making it worse.”
Hange glanced back, her expression now completely serious.
“Petra… you don’t have to deal with it alone. You know that, right?”
Petra nodded faintly, but her gaze stayed locked on the window, as if afraid to face anyone.
The car continued slowly down the snowy street, but the air inside was far heavier than before.
---

The car was quiet except for the relentless sound of rain pelting against the windshield, mixing with the heavier fall of snow that blanketed the road and the cars ahead. The city outside blurred in grey and white, and the traffic was at a full standstill.inside, no one spoke.
Petra sat stiffly between Levi and the door, her fingers tightly gripping the edge of her hoodies. Her cheeks were red from the slap. Her lips—still slightly bloody from biting them earlier—were pressed shut.
Moblit turned in his seat again, his expression gentle but concerned. His voice broke the silence softly.
“Petra… I know we asked before. But please… just tell us what happened. Not just the cold or being tired. Really.”
Petra didn’t lift her eyes, but her breathing quickened.
“Was it after the library?” Moblit asked.
Petra gave a slow nod."You saw someone?”Another pause. Then she whispered, “Yes.”
Moblit waited patiently, giving her the space to speak.
“I was walking… toward the dorm. It was cold. Then… at the streets, I saw him.”
Her voice cracked.

“Han.”

That name made Levi turn his head instantly.
Petra’s fingers clenched tighter in her lap.
“He just stood there… staring at me. Smiling. Like he was waiting. I froze. I didn’t even think. I just… couldn’t move.”
Her eyes welled with tears, and her voice was barely audible.
“He walked up to me and started talking… awful things. That I destroyed their family. That I ruined his life. That I should never be happy."
The air inside the car seemed to get colder.

“Then… he slapped me.”

Levi’s hands curled into fists.

Petra’s voice trembled more as she continued, “He grabbed me by the hair. Told me I was going to pay for everything. For making him and his father suffer. Then he left. Just walked away like he did nothing.”
Hange turned her head slowly. Her brows were furrowed in disbelief, her lips pressed in a tight line.
Moblit stayed quiet, gently nodding, letting her finish.
“I didn’t say anything because I didn’t want to burden anyone,” Petra whispered. “Then Historia called. She saw my step dad near the hostel. That’s when… I couldn’t hide it anymore."The weight of her words settled into the silence.

Then Levi spoke. Low. Sharp.

“So you just walked away from him and kept your mouth shut.”
Petra flinched.
“I—I didn’t know what to do—”
“Bullshit,” Levi snapped.
Everyone turned to him. His voice wasn’t loud, but it was cutting. Cold as the snow outside.
“You saw the same bastard who already hurt you. Who we warned you about. And instead of calling someone, you wandered around with your face marked up and said nothing?”
Petra lowered her head, tears beginning to fall.
“You’re not invincible, Petra,” Levi continued, his voice now bitter with frustration. “You can’t keep walking into danger and brushing it off like a scraped knee. This isn’t just about you anymore.”
She cried silently, wiping her eyes, lips trembling.
“Every time we see you, you’re in trouble. Bleeding. Hiding something. What the hell are you thinking?”
“I didn’t want to trouble you,” she whispered, voice cracking. “
He slammed his hand lightly against the side window in frustration, startling her. “Goddammit, Petra.”

Moblit gently interrupted, “Levi—”

“No,” Levi said, cold. “She needs to hear this. You think hiding this makes you strong? It doesn’t. It makes you vulnerable.
Petra couldn’t take it anymore. She broke down.
The weight of the day—the pain, the humiliation, the fear, the shame—all of it crashed over her as she sobbed quietly into her hands.
Levi didn’t say another word. He leaned back, tense, jaw locked. But even with his anger, his eyes didn’t leave her.
He didn’t say sorry. But he didn’t look away either.
Outside, the traffic still hadn’t moved. The snow continued to fall.
But inside the car, at least for now, Petra wasn’t alone anymore.

---

The traffic hadn’t moved in over 25 minutes. Red taillights lined the road like a long, angry serpent, stretching into the snowy fog. The wind howled outside, pressing against the windows of the warm, luxury car like a ghost trying to get in.Inside, the silence had settled like thick smoke.
Levi tapped his fingers against the armrest, the leather creaking under his grip. His patience was running thinner than the road salt outside.
“Tch… what the hell are the traffic police even doing?” he muttered sharply.
“Bunch of incompetent idiots can’t handle a little snow.”
From the driver’s seat, Moblit quietly said, “They say there’s a blockage near the intersection. A truck slid off the road.”
“Of course it did.” Levi scowled and looked away.
In the seat, Petra sat quietly, bundled up in her coat, her fingers twisted in the hem of her sleeves. Her gaze was fixed outside, but her mind was far away—still stuck on the call from Historia. Still stuck on him.Her heart hadn’t slowed since.
She hadn’t eaten all day. Not properly, at least. Just a few sips of vending machine coffee and the energy from her stress.

Her stomach growled suddenly—loud enough for everyone in the car to hear.
Her face flushed in embarrassment.Levi’s head turned sharply toward her.
She quickly looked down, pretending not to notice, but the silence after was sharp.Without a word, Levi reached into the side pocket of his coat and pulled out two neatly wrapped chocolate bars. He tossed one into her lap, the other he placed on the seat between them.

“Eat.” His voice was flat, but his eyes didn’t leave her face.
Petra hesitated, staring at the bar in her lap.
“I’m not really—”
“Did I ask if you were hungry?” he cut in.
“You’re pale. You’re shaking. And your stomach sounds like it’s dying. Eat it, Petra.”
She slowly picked it up with both hands, her fingers still trembling a bit. “...Thank you,” she whispered.
Levi just clicked his tongue again and looked away.
“I don’t want you passing out again. Once was enough.”

The snow thickened, winds howling louder now as if trying to rip the roads apart. Visibility was dropping fast. The car heater worked hard, but the cold still pressed against the windows like icy hands.

“We’ve been stuck for over an hour,” Moblit muttered, looking at his phone’s map. “There’s an alternate route opening up. It’s not great, but we’ll be moving at least.”

Hange nodded. “Take it. Anything’s better than sitting in this mess.”

The car jolted as it took the side road, a narrow, uneven path that snaked through the edge of town. The tires thudded over potholes, and snow splashed up on either side of the car.

“Everyone buckle up,” Moblit said, glancing back. “This road’s going to be rough.”

Mike clicked his seatbelt into place without a word. Petra reached for hers, fumbled with it, then pulled the strap the wrong way. She tried again—still wrong. Her fingers were shivering, fumbling more in nerves than cold.

“Tch.” Levi gave a tired sigh.

Without a word, he leaned toward her. Petra froze slightly as he reached across, grabbed the strap from her hands, and clipped it in with a firm click. His hand brushed hers for a second, but he pulled away like nothing happened.
“Try not to be useless every five minutes,” he muttered, settling back in his seat and crossing his arms again.
Petra opened her mouth, but didn’t say anything. Instead, she stared out at the swirling snow.
“Thank you,” she said quietly after a beat—not sure if he heard.

He didn’t respond.

The car finally pulled into the quiet street outside Petra’s dorm. Snowflakes clung to the windshield, blurring the building in front of them. The area was almost deserted, eerily quiet beneath the heavy clouds and icy wind.
Petra leaned forward, squinting at the entrance.

“It looks… dark,” Moblit said.

Without waiting, Petra suddenly unbuckled herself and stepped out into the cold. The icy wind cut through her as she jogged to the front doors, pulling at the handles — locked., then checked the small notice board beside it.
Her heart sank.
The gates had officially closed ten minutes ago.

She stood there frozen, staring at the sign, snow sticking to her hoodie and hair. Her body was exhausted, but her mind buzzed in panic.

“Petra! Get in!” Hange called, rolling the window down. “You can stay with me tonight. Don’t worry about it.”

Petra hesitated, biting her lips. “It’s okay, Hange-san. I can figure something out. Maybe the back gate—”

“You’re not walking around looking like that,” Hange said firmly. “Just come in, seriously.”

Petra shook her head weakly. “No, I—I’ll manage…”

Then Levi’s voice cut through the wind.

“Tch. Enough.”

She turned. He had opened the back door, eyes narrowed.

“Stop being stubborn and get in the damn car. You clearly can’t take care of yourself.”

His tone wasn’t warm. It wasn’t gentle. Just sharp and final.

Petra froze for a second, then quietly walked back, not meeting anyone’s eyes. She slid into the back seat beside him, pulling the door shut behind her. Her face burned with shame — from the locked dorm, from being scolded in front of everyone, from being the one who always caused problems.

But Levi said nothing more. He simply looked forward, jaw tense, as the car pulled back into the snowy street.

---

After a while, the car slowed to a stop.

They had finally arrived.

Petra stepped out into the chilly night, breath fogging as she looked up in awe. Before her stood a beautiful, tall apartment building bathed in soft amber lights. Snow still gently drifted down, dusting the sidewalk and outlining the edges of the modern structure in a dreamlike glow.
She followed the others inside, still wide-eyed, her shoes clicking lightly against the polished floor of the lobby. The warmth indoors was instant and comforting. They entered the lift together—Hange, Moblit, Mike, Levi, and Petra. She stood quietly in one corner, stealing glances at the polished buttons and mirrored walls, her reflection barely meeting her gaze.
The elevator dinged as it reached the 4th floor. The doors slid open smoothly.

Everyone stepped out.

Petra hesitated for a moment, unsure which direction to follow. Mike walked ahead toward one of the doors, knocking on the door. Petra stood still, awkwardly clutching her bag, not knowing if she should just wait there or speak.
Suddenly, Hange called out warmly, “Petra! Over here!”
She turned toward the voice.
Moblit and Hange were standing at the door directly across the hallway. “You’re staying with us,” Hange smiled, unlocking the door. “Come in, it’s warmer inside.”
She gave a small nod and hurried over to them, glancing once to the opposite side of the hallway. Levi was already unlocking his door without a word, back turned, silent as ever.
Hange’s apartment was—unexpectedly—charming.
As soon as Petra stepped inside, she felt it: a cozy warmth, soft lighting, shelves overflowing with books, quirky plants hanging near the windows, and a faint scent of brewed tea in the air.

Petra smiled faintly despite her exhaustion. For a moment, the heaviness of the day eased off her shoulders.
“Make yourself at home,” Hange said brightly, tossing her keys into a dish by the door. “Moblit, honey can you grab her a blanket or something?”

“Already on it,” Moblit replied, walking toward a cabinet near the couch.

Petra quietly slipped off her shoes and stood near the doorway, unsure if she should sit or offer help. Across the hall, the click of Levi’s door closing echoed faintly behind her.

---

The apartment stretched farther than it had seemed from the doorway.

Petra sat down slowly on the soft couch in the living room, her eyes moving around in quiet admiration. It wasn’t small at all—cozy, yes, but surprisingly spacious. The second storey, which she hadn't noticed from outside, added depth to the home. A staircase curved upward at the end of the hall, and the ceilings were higher than she expected. Books were stacked not just on shelves but in corners, little indoor plants peeked out from windowsills, and a few framed photos rested on side tables—of Hange and Moblit with some others, perhaps comrades, smiling in their uniforms.

It felt like a lived-in place. Warm. A contrast to the cold outside.

As she sat curled on the couch, still taking everything in, Moblit approached her with a gentle expression. He placed a folded blanket over her lap.

“Here,” he said. “You looked like you could use this.”

“Thank you,” she murmured, her voice quiet from fatigue and everything else still weighing on her mind.

Just then, Hange reappeared from one of the side rooms.

“There’s a guest room on the first floor—come on, I’ll show you,” she said with a smile, motioning Petra to follow.

Petra stood, still holding the blanket around her shoulders, and followed Hange down the short hallway. The guest room was simple but tidy, with a small bed, clean sheets, a warm lamp on the bedside table, and a soft rug that felt good under her feet.
“You can freshen up and change if you want,” Hange said gently, placing a towel and a set of borrowed clothes folded on the bed. “Dinner will be ready soon. Take your time.”
Petra gave her a small, grateful nod. “Thank you, Hange-san. Really.”
Hange’s expression softened. “Of course. You’re not alone, Petra. You never were.”
Then she turned and left, pulling the door gently shut behind her.
Petra stood still in the room for a moment, the silence surrounding her. She looked down at the blanket wrapped around her and then at the unfamiliar clothes left on the bed. Slowly, she sat down, trying to let her body rest… just for a moment.

The warmth of the room, the comfort of the couch earlier, and Hange’s kindness—it all made her eyes sting. But she blinked it back. Not now.

She would clean up and go out for dinner, like she was asked.

Even if she didn’t say it out loud—this unexpected kindness meant more than she could explain.

She freshened up and wore the clothes they gave her. It surprisingly fit her really well, like it was made for her. She looked at herself once in the mirror, feeling a bit shy. Then she slowly walked out to the dining room.

The moment she entered, she paused.

Levi was there, sitting at the dining table, drinking tea calmly. But when he saw her—he stared. Long. Quiet. Like he forgot to blink.

Petra gulped a little.

Then Hange, who was across the room, suddenly said loudly, “Oh! That’s Levi’s old clothes, you know!”

Petra’s eyes widened, frozen for a second. “Huh?!”

She looked at Levi quickly. He didn’t say anything, just kept sipping his tea, completely unbothered.

Petra slowly sat in the chair, still a bit stunned, her eyes flicking toward him once more. He didn’t even look embarrassed.

They started talking seriously after that—about Han, her stepfather, what to do, what decisions to make. Everyone was serious. Mobilit was explaining options. Hange was focused. Petra spoke quietly, but she was part of it.
After all that was done, the mood softened. They began to talk about normal things—nothing heavy. Random jokes, casual chats.

Petra found out that Levi spent a lot of time in this apartment. Since he was mostly alone in his own apartment he came here often, especially on weekends when Hange and Mobilit were around.

“Mike’s got a wife now,” Hange said, grabbing some chips from the table. “And they’re expecting a baby. Can you believe it?”

Petra smiled. “That’s nice.”

“Yeah, now Levi is the moody uncle who shows up, says nothing, and drinks all our tea,” Hange said, nudging him.

“I don’t drink all your tea,” Levi muttered.

“You do,” Mobilit groaned. “He literally has his own mug here.”

“I don't even live here,” Levi said flatly.

“You live here more than I do,” Mobilit replied.

Petra laughed a little bit .

Then suddenly, Hange grinned and looked at Petra. “But seriously, Petra, that outfit—kind of suspicious how perfectly it fits, right?”

Petra blinked. “What do you mean?”

Levi side-eyed Hange.

“Oh, nothing,” Hange smirked. “It’s just… weird that Levi happened to have clothes that exactly match your size. Almost like he measured you in your sleep.”

“Shut up,” Levi said immediately.

“Oh? Getting defensive?” Hange wiggled her eyebrows. “You were staring for a long time earlier too, Captain.”

“I was trying to figure out how dumb she looked,” he replied coldly.

Petra gasped looking down. “I do not look dumb!”

“You don’t,” Hange said quickly. “You look dangerously good. That’s why Levi’s brain crashed for five seconds.”

“I’ll throw this cup,” Levi warned.

“Do it,” Hange laughed. “Right after you confess you picked that outfit on purpose.”

Mobilit groaned loudly. “I regret ever letting you two be in the same room.”

Levi and Hange ignored him completely as they continued throwing snark at each other.

Petra just laughed, hiding her smile behind her hand. It was loud, messy, and honestly… it felt warm.

Like home.

Chapter Text

After dinner, everyone helped clean up a little. Petra stood near the sink, drying plates while chatting quietly with hange.
Levi had already stood up, brushing off his hands. “I’m going,” he said simply, picking up his coat from the chair.

“To your cave across the hall?” Hange asked with a smirk.
He gave her a blank stare but didn’t answer.
Just as he was heading to the door, Hange suddenly called out, “Hey, Levi! Show Petra your apartment.”
“No,” Levi replied instantly, without even turning around.
Petra blinked, surprised by how fast and sharp his answer was.

Hange grinned wider. “Aw, come on. What are you hiding in there? Some top-secret teacup collection? A life-size cardboard cutout of Petra?”
Levi turned slightly, glaring. “Shut up.”
Petra looked between them, nervous but curious.
Then Hange stood up and casually threw her arm around Petra’s shoulder. “Fine. If you won’t do it, I will. Come on, Petra. I’ll show you his precious bat cave myself.”
“Hange—” Levi said warningly, but she was already pulling Petra toward the door.
Petra looked back, half-laughing. “It’s okay if it’s private—”
“No, no, now we have to see it,” Hange said dramatically. “He’s acting like he’s hiding bodies in there.”
“Only one,” Levi muttered.
Hange grinned at him. “That’s not helping your case.”

Mobilit shook his head from the couch.

As Petra stepped out with Hange, Levi finally followed slowly behind, clearly regretting everything about this moment.

They entered Levi’s apartment—and Petra’s eyes widened.
It was beautiful.So many neatly placed furniture, soft lights, perfectly arranged books, curtains tied up evenly, not a speck of dust anywhere. The whole place smelled like fresh tea and something clean… almost like soap.

It looked like nobody lived here.

But he did.

Hange laughed, waving her hands around. “Tadaaa~ Welcome to Levi’s museum of perfection!”

Petra walked in slowly, amazed. “It’s… so clean. It looks untouched.”

“He lives here,” Hange said. “But because of his clean freakness, it stays looking like this. Everything has a fixed place. You breathe wrong and he’ll wipe the walls.”

Petra chuckled under her breath.

“This way, this way!” Hange dragged her further in, pointing out random things. “Here’s his tea shelf. These cups have names. Don’t touch that coaster, it’s aligned to the universe. And over there—his stupid bookshelf where every book is organized by height, color, and mood.”

Petra laughed. “He really does this much?”

“You have no idea,” Hange sighed. “One time I sneezed and he made me leave the house.”

Suddenly, the door creaked again. Levi stepped inside.

He stopped at the entrance. His gaze landed on both of them. He looked tired.

And deeply, deeply annoyed.

“I said no,” Levi muttered.

Petra immediately straightened, but Hange just waved cheerfully. “Too late~ She’s already seen your precious floorboards.”

Levi walked in slowly, arms crossed. “Don’t touch anything.”

“Oops,” Hange grinned, already sitting on the edge of the couch. “She sat on the chair. Should we throw it away?”

Petra turned pink. “I didn’t—! I just looked—!”

Levi looked at her. “It’s fine. Just don’t let her break anything.”

“Rude,” Hange pouted. “Besides, Petra was impressed. Right, Petra?”

Petra nodded shyly. “It’s… really nice.”

Levi stared for a second, then looked away like it meant nothing. “Tch.”

“See?” Hange smirked. “He’s shy now.”

“I’m not.”

“He’s blushing, Petra.”

“I will kick you out,” Levi warned.

“Oh noooo, how scary,” Hange said dramatically. “The tea lord is threatening me in front of a guest.”

Petra covered her mouth to hide a laugh.

They bickered like siblings, but it felt warm. A little chaotic, a little embarrassing… but warm.

Levi and Hange were still bickering like kids.

“Stop showing people my stuff,” Levi muttered, following Hange around as she opened random drawers.
“It’s literally just napkins, Levi,” Hange rolled her eyes. “Not secret military files.”
“Still. Close it.”
Petra stood between them, amused and a little overwhelmed.
Then she asked curiously, “Um… is Commander Erwin’s house also here?”
Levi stopped mid-step.
Hange answered casually, “Yeah, across from Mike’s place. .”
“Oh,” Petra blinked. “I haven’t seen him.”
“He doesn’t come much,” Hange replied, hopping off the couch. “He’s a full-time workaholic.”
Levi crossed his arms. “He’ll be here tomorrow.”

Petra tilted her head. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Hange nodded. “We kinda forced him this time. Told him we’d drag him by his hair if he didn’t take a break.”

“He finally agreed after we said Mike’s wife is making food,” Levi added dryly.

Petra smiled softly. “Sounds like you’re all really close.”

Hange grinned. “We are. Like family now. That’s why we live nearby—makes it easier to yell at each other.”

Levi snorted quietly, then walked over to the front door and opened it.

“Alright. Time’s up.”

“Wow, look at him kicking us out of his own museum,” Hange teased.

Petra laughed as they both stepped outside.

As she turned back once more, she saw Levi already closing the door behind them, face blank as ever.

Click.

He was gone.

Hange rolled her eyes. “Classic Levi. Pretends he’s annoyed but he’s secretly soft.”

Petra smiled. “Yeah… .”

They walked back across the hall toward Hange’s place, the warm lights of her apartment spilling into the hallway as the door creaked open.

---

After they returned to Hange’s apartment, the air felt warmer, calmer.

Mobilit was already half-asleep on the couch, a blanket thrown over him. Hange yawned dramatically, stretching her arms above her head.

“Alright, I’m calling it a night. Today felt like three days packed into one,” she mumbled, already walking toward her room mobilit following her.

“Goodnight,” Petra whispered with a soft smile.

Mobilit gave a thumbs up ni"ght".

Petra quietly slipped into the guest room Hange had given her.

Her body still felt heavy from everything—walking through snow, the fear, the cold, the sudden comfort of safety. Her mind wandered back to the tea-scented apartment across the hall, Levi’s expression, Hange’s wild energy, the chaotic teasing.

So much had happened today.

Too much.

But for the first time in a while… she wasn’t scared when the lights went off.

Petra laid down, eyes blinking slowly at the ceiling in the dim light, listening to the low hum of the city outside. The blanket was warm. The bed was soft. And her heart, while still tired, wasn’t racing anymore.

Her thoughts faded slowly.

And before she could even finish replaying the last conversation in her head—she had already dozed off.

The next morning, heavy snow had already started falling outside the windows, covering everything in thick white layers. The wind was soft but steady, and the world looked completely frozen over.

Petra’s phone buzzed.

It was a text from Historia.

“Are you okay?? The hostel was closed last night. I thought you were stuck in the snow 😰”

Petra quickly replied:

“I’m okay. Stayed at Hange-san’s place. Thank you for checking 🧡”

She freshened up with the toiletries and clothes Hange had lent her. The warmth of the room, the fresh scent of clean towels, and the snow outside all made everything feel quiet and gentle—like she was wrapped in a moment she didn’t expect.

When she stepped into the living room, she stopped.

Everyone was there.

Even at just 7 a.m., the living room was full of quiet chatter and warm lights. The windows showed the snow falling heavily outside, but inside it was full of soft sounds—cups clinking, low voices, and the smell of fresh tea and something cooking.

Mike was there, sitting with his pregnant wife who smiled kindly at Petra.

Mobilit stood by the window, already dressed, yawning.

Levi was sitting calmly near the table, as unreadable as ever, his usual cup of tea in hand.

And next to him—Erwin.

Commander Erwin Smith, with his sharp blue eyes and calm presence, was speaking softly with Mike about something Petra couldn’t hear.

Everyone looked so at ease. So familiar with each other.

Petra paused at the edge of the room.

She suddenly felt small. Like she had stepped into someone else’s family photo.

She bowed slightly. “Good morning…”

They all turned to her.

“Morning, Petra!” Hange waved from the kitchen island.

Erwin gave her a polite nod. “Good morning.”

Mike’s wife smiled warmly. “You must be Petra. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Come, sit down,” Hange said quickly, walking over and placing a warm cup of tea into Petra’s hands. “We made breakfast. Levi made toast. Don’t let it fool you, he complains but he makes the best toast on this side of Mitras.”

“Tch,” Levi muttered under his breath.

Petra gave a nervous smile. “Thank you…”

She sat down slowly on the edge of the sofa, still holding the tea in both hands. She felt shy—surrounded by people who clearly shared years of stories, missions, and bonds.

But no one treated her like she didn’t belong.

Just quietly included her.

And somehow, that made her chest ache a little.

In a good way.

After the quiet breakfast, the room settled into a peaceful hush. Everyone sipped their tea or spoke in low voices. Petra sat quietly, feeling warm but still a little out of place.

After a few moments, she placed her cup down gently.

“Um… can I go back to the dorm now?”

Hange looked up. “You have college today?”

Petra shook her head. “No, I don’t. It’s off today.”

“Then stay here until evening,” Hange said easily. “We’ll drop you off after that. Roads will be better too.”

Petra hesitated. “No, Hange-san… it’s okay. I can walk.”

There was a short silence.

From across the room, Levi spoke without looking up from his tea.

“Then tripping again, right?”

Petra blinked.

She looked at him, caught off guard. He wasn’t even smirking. Just blunt as usual.

“I—" she started, but nothing came out. She just smiled awkwardly instead, eyes lowering.

Hange raised her eyebrows. “Levi!”

“What? I’m stating facts.”

“Still—!”

“I’ll be careful this time,” Petra said quickly, standing up. “Really.”

Levi just sipped his tea and glanced out the window, not replying. But Petra noticed the slight pause in his movement. Like he didn’t like it either.

After breakfast, no one was in a hurry to leave.

The snow kept falling quietly outside, and the room was filled with a cozy sort of stillness—warm mugs in hand, soft blankets thrown over shoulders, the quiet hum of old stories being shared.

The conversation drifted from old missions to Erwin's terrible cooking, to Mike's baby preparations, to Mobilit's recent regret of buying white shoes in winter.

And then, naturally, someone turned to Petra.

“So Petra,” Hange said gently, leaning forward, “we’ve talked so much… but not about you. What was your life like, before all this?”

The room quieted a little.

Even though most of them knew small pieces, none of them had ever asked her directly.

Petra looked down at her tea for a second, then slowly began to speak.

“I was born in North Sina,” she said softly. “Not here. I lived there until… my dad passed away.”

Everyone stayed silent, listening with quiet focus.

“After that, my mom remarried. We moved here… I didn’t know anyone, really. Most of the time, I stayed with an old neighbor lady—she was like a grandma to me. Her daughter and grandson were always around. I used to spend weekends with them, mostly in the countryside.”

She smiled a little. “It was peaceful back then.”

There was a beat of silence before she added, “After my mom’s death, everything changed. I had to… adjust. A lot.”

She looked up and forced a small smile.

“But I’m okay now.”

Mike’s wife placed a hand over hers gently. Hange gave her a soft, thoughtful look.

Erwin nodded. “You’ve come far.”

They didn’t press her further. They didn’t have to. The silence spoke with understanding.

Then Hange asked, lightening the mood, “So, what are you studying again? You mentioned arts, right?”

Petra nodded. “Yes. I’m doing a degree in arts. Thinking about specializing in digital marketing… or maybe content strategy. Still deciding.”

Mobilit blinked. “Wait, content strategy? Like writing?”

“Yeah,” Petra chuckled. “Kind of. Campaigns, branding, how stuff looks online. That sort of thing.”

“Sounds cool,” Hange said with genuine interest. “You’re only in…?”

“Second semester,” Petra replied. “We have six total. So… long way to go. And next semester’s going to be really tough.”

“You’ll survive,” Levi muttered without looking at her.

Everyone glanced at him.

Even Petra blinked in surprise.

He didn’t repeat himself.

Hange grinned. “Wow. A motivational quote from Levi. Write that down, Petra.”

She laughed softly, and this time… it didn’t feel awkward at all.

Just warm.

Petra sat quietly as the laughter around her faded into background hum. Everyone was talking about something now—Mobilit and Hange teasing each other again, Erwin already checking his files even on a day off, Mike chuckling softly at them all.

But her heart felt full.

She thought back to the first time she saw them—on that cold, hopeless night when everything had collapsed around her. When she had decided to end everything. When she truly believed no one in the world would notice if she disappeared.

But they did.

They were strangers then. Just people who happened to be there.

They found her. Took her to the hospital. Stayed. Waited. Protected.

And somehow, from that day… everything slowly began again.

She never imagined being this close to people she’d met by accident.

Never imagined sitting in a warm room filled with kindness, laughter, and quiet understanding.

She smiled to herself.

A while later, Hange gently nudged her shoulder. “Hey, wanna come with me to Mike’s place? We’re helping them set up some things for the baby.”

Petra nodded quickly. “I’d love to.”

Mike and his wife lived in the apartment. When they arrived, the door was already open, the hallway smelling faintly of lavender and something freshly baked.

The living room was simple but cozy—neutral tones, soft couches, and on one side, a corner already being transformed into a nursery.

Petra’s eyes lit up as she saw the little toys, folded baby clothes, and tiny shoes lined up carefully.

“Wow…” she whispered. “It’s beautiful.”

Mike’s wife smiled warmly. “It’s still a work in progress. We’re due in three months, so the nesting has officially begun.”

Hange was already unboxing something with wild enthusiasm.

“Is this a mobile? Mike, this giraffe has an attitude.”

Mike grunted. “It’s a fox.”

Petra walked closer to the crib, touching the edge gently. “It’s… peaceful here.”

“It will be,” Mike replied with a rare, soft tone.

Then he glanced at Petra. “You’re welcome to visit anytime. My kid could use someone like you around.”

Petra blinked, caught off guard. “Me?”

“You’re steady,” he said plainly. “You’ve seen storms. That counts.”

She didn’t know how to reply. So she just smiled—quiet, glowing, and a little emotional.

Maybe… this was what healing looked like.

Not loud. Not fast.

Just small, warm steps surrounded by people who reminded you—without ever saying it directly—that you still had a place in this world.

After spending a few warm, quiet hours at Mike’s apartment, Petra returned with Hange and Mobilit to their place. The visit had been lovely—seeing the nursery, helping with the baby things, laughing softly at Hange’s playful teasing and Mike’s quiet affection for his wife.

For the first time in a while, Petra didn’t feel like an outsider.

Back at Hange’s apartment, everything was calm again. Snow still danced outside the windows, painting the world in white. Inside, the air was filled with the scent of warm tea and cinnamon.

Hange was in the kitchen, digging through the cabinets, planning something half-baked and chaotic, as always. Mobilit lounged on the couch, flipping through a book but occasionally making jokes that kept the energy light.

Petra sat on one of the stools by the counter, legs tucked under her, watching them with a small smile.

“I like your little team,” she said quietly.

Hange grinned. “Good. Because you’re stuck with us now.”

As they prepped ingredients for some kind of dessert, Hange suddenly looked up.

“Oh! By the way,” she said with a sudden sparkle in her voice, “we’re celebrating Mobilit and my wedding anniversary next week. Just something small here. You should come.”

Petra’s eyes widened. “Wedding anniversary?”

“Yep. Just a little party. Drinks, bad dancing, too much cake. You in?”

Petra smiled, surprised at how easily the answer came. “Yes. I’d love to.”

Something about being included so casually, so warmly, made her heart swell.

She sat back and watched them for a while—Hange measuring ingredients in the wrong cups, Mobilit sighing dramatically while correcting her. It was chaos. But it was home.

At some point, Levi came out of his apartment across the hall. He passed through the living room without saying much, sipping tea in silence as he watched the snow from the window. Then, with a grunt, he turned and left again, shutting the door behind him.

As Petra’s eyes lingered on the closed door, Hange noticed.

She wiped her hands on a towel, leaned forward on the counter, and said softly, “Hey, Petra?”

“Hmm?”

“You don’t have to answer this if you don’t want to,” Hange said, smiling gently. “But… did you ever feel something for Levi?”

Petra froze.

She blinked. “What? No—I mean, no! I—” She fumbled for her teacup, avoiding their eyes.

Hange raised a brow but said nothing. Mobilit glanced up from his book.

“It’s okay,” Hange said, voice calm. “We just… kind of sensed something. Thought we’d ask.”

Petra stayed quiet for a long moment.

She didn’t know what to say.

She thought of the first time she met them—when she was at her lowest, trying to end everything. They were the ones who found her. Took her to the hospital. Stayed beside her. Watched over her like she mattered. That was where everything started.

And Levi… he had never been soft, never warm in the obvious ways—but his presence steadied her. His quiet glances, his silence that somehow understood, his scolding words that were often more care than cruelty. They had stuck with her.

“I… I don’t know,” she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper.

Mobilit looked at her and said gently, “That’s still an answer.”

Petra gave a small, shy laugh and looked down again.

Hange smiled knowingly. “That’s what we thought.”

They didn’t press any further. And Petra didn’t speak again.

Later that afternoon, everyone slowly gathered again in Hange’s apartment for lunch.

The air was warm with the scent of home-cooked food—herbs, roasted vegetables, and something surprisingly mouthwatering that Hange insisted was totally experimental. The dining table was a bit crowded with plates, bowls, cups, and mismatched utensils, but no one minded. It felt lively. Full.

Erwin was seated at the end of the table, quiet as always but occasionally nodding at the chatter. Mike and his wife sat side by side, her hand resting gently on her stomach. Mobilit looked mildly terrified by the amount of food on his plate, while Hange kept enthusiastically serving just a little more to everyone.

Levi sat near the corner, not saying much, sipping tea with his usual unreadable face.

Petra found a seat between Hange and Mike’s wife. She smiled at everyone, quietly listening as they all bantered and shared stories—stories about the military, about past missions, embarrassing slips, and even some warm memories from years back.

There was so much laughter.

The snow still fell steadily outside, brushing the windows like a soft curtain of white. From time to time, someone would glance out and sigh—too cold to go anywhere, which meant more time inside. Together.

Petra didn't speak much. But her smile never faded.

She didn’t feel like an outsider anymore.

She laughed quietly when Hange teased Erwin about secretly owning pink pajamas. She chuckled when Mobilit tried (and failed) to politely refuse second servings. She nodded thoughtfully at Mike’s calm, wise words about raising a child.

And then, for a brief moment, her eyes drifted to Levi again.

He wasn’t talking. But he was here. Present. Eating slowly, drinking quietly, occasionally glancing at the group—at her.

She looked away quickly, a soft smile still on her lips.

Something about all of it—the warmth, the food, the laughter, the way no one looked at her like she didn’t belong—made her feel something deep, something she hadn’t felt in a long time.

Safe.

She looked down at her plate and thought,

I’m really glad I stayed.

---

After a little while, Petra came out with her bag, ready to head back to her dorm. She adjusted the strap on her shoulder and looked around for Hange to say one last goodbye. Just then, Hange stepped out from the hallway, grinning mischievously.

“Ah, before you disappear,” she called out, “Levi will be dropping you off. He’s already waiting in the parking lot—so go before he gets all grumpy.”

Petra blinked. “Levi-san…? Dropping me off?”

“Mm-hmm,” Hange said with a teasing wiggle of her eyebrows. “Just go before he changes his mind.”

Petra laughed nervously but nodded. She quickly went around and gave Hange a hug, whispering, “Thank you for everything.”

Hange hugged her back tightly. “Come again anytime. And don’t forget the party next week!”

Petra waved a goodbye to Mike, Mobilit, and Erwin, who were all lounging nearby, then walked toward the parking area.

She looked around, expecting a car… but there was none.

Then suddenly—HOOOOONK.

She jumped slightly, turning to see a sleek, black motorcycle glinting under the grey sky. On it sat Levi—helmet off, wearing a dark, fitted jacket, gloves, and a look that screamed “don’t even try to talk.”

He looked… kind of like a gangster.

Petra blinked again. That’s Levi?!

He didn’t say anything. Just gave her a flat stare.

She hurriedly walked over, her cheeks turning red. “Uhm… so… this is the vehicle?”

He gave the faintest nod, then looked ahead.

She climbed on, awkwardly adjusting herself and making sure to leave a small gap between them. At first, she kept her hands to herself, clutching the edges of the seat nervously.

But once the engine started and the bike rolled forward, the wind picked up fast.

She didn’t expect the chill to hit that hard. The cold air whipped past them, stinging her cheeks, tugging at her borrowed scarf. After a few seconds, her balance wavered slightly—and instinctively, she reached forward and gripped the back of Levi’s jacket.

She leaned in just enough to stay steady.

He didn’t say anything.

Neither did she.

But a minute later, the wind grew even harsher—biting and sharp. Her fingers dug into the fabric of his coat more firmly, and this time, her arms almost wrapped around him. She had no choice but to lean closer, her cheek brushing lightly against his back.

Still no reaction from Levi.

The silence between them stretched on—strangely comfortable.

After a few more minutes, her voice came out softly, almost lost in the wind.
“If the wind gets worse, I can ask you to stop for a moment…”

Levi’s voice replied calmly, but firm.
“No need. I won’t let you fall.”

Something about the way he said it made her chest ache a little.

Not dramatic. Not romantic. Just steady. Sure. Like a promise.

Petra didn’t respond. She simply smiled faintly against his back and let the silence wrap around them again, the city lights starting to glow in the distance as they rode forward.

Suddenly, the traffic opened up—and Levi sped up.

The motorcycle roared down the road, weaving smoothly between the occasional car. The wind hit stronger now, rushing past Petra’s ears, tugging at her hair and scarf. The sudden speed made her gasp—but not in fear.

In excitement.

She gripped Levi tighter, her arms instinctively wrapping around his waist.
“W-Whoa—Levi-san!” she laughed, voice muffled against the wind. “This is… really fast!”

Levi didn’t respond. Of course he didn’t. But she could feel him slightly glance back for just a second. He didn’t slow down though. If anything, he leaned in more, guiding the bike like it was second nature.

Petra let out a soft chuckle—half nervous, half thrilled.
This is rude, she thought, but… I kind of like this.

She wasn’t used to this kind of feeling. Wild wind. Cold air. Heart racing—not from fear, but from the closeness, the adrenaline, and maybe… something else.

After about fifteen minutes, the city lights dimmed slightly as they reached the familiar street near her dorm. Levi smoothly turned the bike into the narrow road and brought it to a gentle stop right in front of the building.

The engine purred for a second… then quieted.

Petra hesitated before letting go. Slowly, she slid her arms back and climbed off. Her knees wobbled a little from the rush. She took off the borrowed helmet and looked at Levi.

“Thanks for the ride,” she said softly, brushing hair from her face. “It was… kind of exciting.”

Levi didn’t meet her eyes right away. He just adjusted his gloves and muttered,
“Hmph. You were gripping me like you’d fly off.”

She blushed. “S-Sorry.”

He finally looked up, meeting her gaze. “Don’t apologize. You didn’t fall, did you?”

Petra stared for a moment, her heart doing that flutter again. She shook her head. “No. I didn’t.”

He nodded, then revved the engine softly again.

She looked at him for another moment, unsure if she should say something more. But then he spoke first—quietly.

“Text Hange when you’re inside.”

Petra blinked, surprised. “Ah… okay.”

He glanced forward again, as if that small sentence had taken effort.

“Bye, Levi-san.”

He didn’t answer. But the slight shift in his head, the tiniest nod, was enough.

Petra stepped back toward the dorm entrance, heart still strangely warm despite the cold air. As the bike pulled away with a low hum, disappearing into the distance, she stood at the door for a moment longer.

She didn’t fall.

Not from the bike.

Not from the feeling, either.

And maybe that meant something.

As soon as Petra stepped inside the dorm building, she leaned against the wall near the entrance and pulled out her phone. Her fingers were still cold, but her heart was strangely warm.

She dialed Hange.

The call picked up instantly. “You reached safely?” Hange’s voice was bright as always.

“Yeah,” Petra said with a soft smile. “I just got in… and, uhm, Hange-san—”

“Hm? What is it?”

“I…” Petra hesitated, eyes drifting toward the window, where the faint sound of Levi’s motorcycle had already faded. “I like his company. Even though he doesn’t really… talk.”

There was a pause. Then Hange let out a quiet, knowing chuckle.

“Oho? Is that so~”

Petra blushed hard and immediately panicked. “N-not like that! I mean… not exactly like that—I just—he makes me feel… safe. That’s all.”

“Mmhmm,” Hange hummed teasingly. “It’s totally normal to feel something when someone saves you multiple times and lets you cling to them on a motorcycle like a drama heroine.”

“Hange-san!”

“I’m just saying, Petra. You don’t have to figure it all out now. But… feelings have a way of growing when we least expect them.”

Petra stayed silent, chewing her lip gently.

“Anyway,” Hange continued cheerfully, “we’ll see you next week, right? For the party?”

“Yes,” Petra whispered. “Thank you… for everything.”

“Anytime, Petra-chan.”

She hung up and took a slow breath, slipping the phone back into her pocket.

But as she walked through the dorm hallway to her room, her thoughts didn’t return to the danger she’d been through… or the stepbrother she feared. They stayed completely on Levi—the sound of the bike, the way he didn’t say much, but still made her feel like nothing could touch her while he was near.

She entered her room, still lost in thought, and almost jumped when she heard a voice.

“Petra! Are you okay?” Historia asked, sitting up on her bed. “You didn’t come back last night. I was worried—”

Petra quickly smiled and walked over. “It’s okay. The dorm was locked when I came back and it started snowing, so I stayed with Hange-san… actually, a lot happened.”

She explained the whole thing in pieces—about the stepfather’s threat, the safehouse-like apartment, the unexpected closeness with everyone there… and Levi.

Historia blinked. “You… stayed with those people? The same Captain Levi from the capital?”

“Yeah,” Petra said softly. “And Hange-san, and Mobilit, and even Commander Erwin was there this morning…”

Historia sat speechless for a second. “Wow… that’s… a lot.”

Petra just nodded, still overwhelmed.

Once Historia calmed down and went back to her book, Petra grabbed her phone again and quickly dialed another number.

Sasha.

The moment Sasha picked up, her voice was filled with sleepy confusion. “Hullo? Petra? It’s not even 9—”

“Sasha. You won’t believe the past 24 hours.”

“Oh no. What happened? Did someone die? Did someone kiss someone?”

“No! I mean—just listen.”

And Petra, sitting on the edge of her bed, told Sasha everything. From the snow to the unexpected rescue. The safety. The warmth. The silence. The wind on the motorbike. The feeling she didn’t want to name.

By the time she finished, Sasha was fully awake.

“Okay, Petra,” she said seriously. “That sounds like something straight out of a novel.”

Petra laughed quietly. “It felt like one.”

“But let me guess—you’re still saying you don’t like him?”

“I don’t know how I feel.”

“Uh-huh. Sure.”

Petra lay back on the bed, smiling up at the ceiling.

“Let’s talk later, okay?”

“Yeah, sure. But I’m gonna bug you about this every single day now.”

Petra ended the call, rolled over, and buried her face in her pillow—smiling without even realizing it.

The day of the party finally came. It was scheduled for the evening, and Petra felt a mix of excitement and nervousness. She wore a loose, baggy pant and a small blue top that she had picked carefully—it was simple but looked nice on her. Since the place was a bit far, she had to take a bus to reach their apartment.

When she arrived, she stood still for a second, taking in the sight. The apartment was already crowded—so many people had shown up, most of them clearly from the military. She could feel the difference in energy around her. Everyone looked confident and bold, chatting, laughing, or standing tall in their uniforms. Petra stepped inside slowly, clutching the small gift in her hand, feeling slightly out of place but trying not to show it.

Here’s your next part, polished and expanded a bit for natural flow and emotion, while keeping close to your style:

---

Suddenly, Hange appeared in front of her, wearing a beautiful dress that suited her surprisingly well. Petra blinked for a moment—she wasn’t used to seeing Hange dressed up like that.

"You're here!" Hange beamed, giving her a quick hug.

Petra smiled shyly and handed her the gift. Hange accepted it with a playful grin before guiding her inside.

As soon as Petra stepped fully into the apartment, she was stunned. The decorations were beautiful—soft lights hanging around the room, gentle music in the background, tables filled with snacks and drinks, and even a small photo wall with silly pictures of Hange and others from their military team. It felt warm and alive.

Her eyes wandered until she spotted a familiar face—Mike’s wife. She looked calm and kind as always. Petra made her way over and quietly sat beside her, grateful to find someone she could sit with without feeling too overwhelmed.

---
While Petra was talking to Mike’s wife, she noticed Connie across the room. He was laughing loudly at something with a few other soldiers, the same casual energy he always carried. When he spotted Petra, he raised his hand with a big grin and walked over.

“Hey! So you made it,” Connie said, giving her a quick friendly hug.

“Of course. I told you I’d come,” Petra smiled, already feeling a little more relaxed around him.

They hadn’t lost touch after high school—over the years, they still texted and called occasionally. Just three months ago, they had met up for lunch when Connie had a short break from training. Their bond had stayed easy and familiar, like time hadn’t changed much between them.

They sat together on a small couch near the window, drinks in hand, and started chatting like they always did. Connie talked about his current posting, a recent mission that almost got him in trouble, and the new recruits he was helping train. Petra listened with interest, then shared bits about her classes, dorm life, and the stressful but funny moments she went through.

“I swear, sometimes college is its own battlefield,” she joked.

“Yeah, but at least your enemy is exams, not human,” Connie laughed.

Petra laughed too, leaning back slightly. “Fair point.”

As Petra laughed at something Connie said, her eyes drifted across the room—and then stopped.

Levi was there.

He was sitting calmly in a chair near one of the side tables, legs crossed, a cup of tea in his hand as usual. He wore a dark shirt with the sleeves rolled just slightly, and he was talking to someone—probably another officer—but his tone was low and unreadable, like always.

Petra’s gaze lingered longer than she meant to. There was something about the way he sat there, so still and composed in the middle of a lively crowd, that made her chest tighten for a second. She couldn’t hear what he was saying, but the small nods, the way he sipped his tea—it was just... so him.

She didn’t even realize how long she was staring until, suddenly, he looked in her direction.

Their eyes met.

It was just a second, but it made her heart jump. She quickly turned away, pretending to focus on something Connie was saying, her face suddenly warmer.

---

A few minutes passed, but Petra couldn’t help herself. She looked at him again.

This time, Levi was already looking straight at her.

Their eyes locked—quiet, unmoving, intense. There was no expression on his face, no smile or frown, just that sharp gaze of his that always seemed to see more than he let on. Petra froze for a second, unsure whether to look away or not. The sounds of the party faded slightly in the background as they held that silent stare.

But before anything could happen, Moblit’s voice rose above the crowd.

“Alright, everyone! Time to cut the cake!”

The attention shifted, and the room gathered around the decorated table in the center. Hange stood beside Moblit, both smiling as candles flickered gently on the large anniversary cake. Laughter, claps, and cheers filled the air.

Hange waved dramatically. “Let’s hope I don’t drop the knife this time!”

Moblit chuckled beside her, steadying her hand jokingly. Together, they cut the cake, and everyone clapped. Some began recording, others shouted blessings or lighthearted jokes.

The celebration carried on joyfully. People mingled, music played softly, and the room felt warm and full of life.

But in the corner of her mind, Petra still felt the echo of Levi’s gaze on her.

---
As they all sat chatting in the calm after the party, Hange suddenly turned to Petra.

“Hey,” she said, narrowing her eyes playfully. “Do you really have to go back to the dorm now?”

Petra smiled politely. “Yup, Hange-san. I’ve got class tomorrow morning. Can’t skip it.”

Hange groaned. “Ugh, responsible people are the worst. Fine, fine... Levi, you’ll drop her, right?”

Everyone looked toward him.

“No,” Levi said flatly, not even lifting his eyes from his cup.

The room fell quiet for a second.

Petra quickly jumped in before anyone else could react. “It’s fine, Hange-san. I’ll go on my own. There’s a bus in ten minutes from the stop nearby. I’ll catch that.”

“But it’s really late,” Moblit said, frowning a little. “At least let me drop you.”

“No, really,” she insisted, her voice soft but firm. “I don’t want to bother anyone. It’s just a short walk.”

Even Erwin and Mike offered to drive her, voices kind and concerned. But Petra gently turned them down too, one by one. She smiled the whole time, politely, like nothing was wrong. But deep down, her heart felt heavy.

Especially because Levi had said no.

She stood up, dusted off her clothes, and bowed slightly with a small smile. “Thank you, everyone. The party was beautiful. Happy anniversary again, Hange-san, Moblit-san.”

She waved at them all, her voice bright. “Goodnight.”

Then she stepped out into the quiet night, walking toward the bus stop alone.

The streets were almost empty, the night wind brushing her hair gently. Her steps were slow, and as she reached the small shelter by the stop, she sat down on the bench, hugging her arms around herself.

Her smile faded.

And as she looked down at her knees, her eyes began to fill with tears.

She wiped them away quickly, hoping the bus would come soon—before more fell.

Petra sat at the bus stop, wiping the corner of her eye quickly as a tear slipped down. She told herself to stop crying. She told herself it didn’t matter. That she understood.

But deep down, it did matter.

She sniffled quietly, trying to hold it together, when suddenly—

A loud engine broke through the stillness of the night.

A sleek black motorbike rolled to a stop right in front of her. She blinked in surprise as the rider pulled off his helmet.

Levi.

He didn’t say anything right away. Just looked at her with those unreadable eyes, the engine still rumbling beneath him.

“Get in,” he said simply.

Petra stood slowly. “No… I told you, I’ll go on my own.”

“I said get in,” Levi repeated, voice firmer now.

He held out the helmet toward her.

For a second, she hesitated. Her pride said no—but her heart said otherwise.

She took the helmet with both hands and slowly got on the back of the bike, settling behind him. As she adjusted the strap, her tears began to fall again—silent but unstoppable.

Levi didn’t look back, but he could feel it. He didn’t speak. He didn’t ask.

He just started the bike again.

The engine roared to life, and they rode off into the quiet night—wind rushing past them, the road stretching ahead—while Petra cried softly behind him.

And Levi… said nothing.

But he didn’t leave her behind.

---

The wind whipped gently against her as the bike sped through the quiet night streets, but Petra could no longer hold it back. Her tears slipped freely, trailing down her cheeks, cold against the night air.

She reached into her pocket slowly, her fingers trembling, and pulled out a small, folded kerchief.

It was old, soft, and worn now—but she remembered it so clearly.

Levi had given it to her months ago. That day her stepbrother hurt her and her hand was bruised, he had silently handed her this very cloth. He hadn’t said much then either—just a quiet gesture of care in his own way. But Petra had kept it ever since.

Like everything else he had ever given her.

In her room, hidden safely in drawers and boxes, she kept them all—the military cloak he’d once let her borrow when she was cold, the plain gray scarf he left behind once, To her, they were treasures.Pieces of him.
Now, she quietly wiped her face with the same kerchief, keeping her eyes down as they rode on.
Despite sitting behind him on the bike, she kept a distance—her hands barely holding the back seat rather than his coat. Her body leaned away ever so slightly, like she didn’t want to burden him even with her weight.

And deep down… she felt it.

She knew Levi hadn’t come because he wanted to. Hange-san must have pushed him, maybe even scolded him until he gave in. That’s just how it worked.
So here she was, on the bike with the person she longed for—and yet, she felt farther from him than ever.
Her fingers tightened around the kerchief.

---

The road ahead was long and quiet, the only sound was the hum of the engine and the soft wind brushing past them. But then—

Petra began to sob again, shoulders shaking lightly behind him.
Levi didn’t stop the bike, but his voice cut through the night, low and unreadable.

“What’s the reason you’re crying for?”

There was a pause.

“I’m… sorry,” Petra whispered.

His voice came again, sharp and quiet. “Why?”
She hesitated, her hands clutching the kerchief tighter. “Nothing.”

A beat passed.

“Is it because I said no?”
She didn’t answer.
Silence hung between them, stretched thin like glass.

Then his voice came again—colder this time, but something else was buried under it. Something quieter. Something heavy.

“What am I to you?”

She stayed silent, biting her lip, tears falling again.
Levi exhaled through his nose. His hands gripped the handles tightly. “I’m nothing in your life. I helped you a few times when things got bad. That doesn’t mean anything. Okay?”
His words were flat—but he said them like they hurt him more than her.

Because deep down, Levi believed it.

He didn’t want to get attached. He didn’t want her to rely on him. He didn’t want to be the reason her life got ruined, tangled up in his cold, broken world. She was young, full of hope, still had so much ahead of her. He… didn’t belong in that world.

So he chose distance. Even if it broke something inside her.

Even if it broke something inside himself.

After those sharp words left his mouth, neither of them spoke.

The night felt colder.

Levi stared straight ahead, jaw clenched, wind brushing past his face as the city lights blurred by. His chest felt heavy, tighter than he wanted to admit.

What was this feeling?

He wasn’t sure.

He didn’t understand why her tears made something in him twist. He didn’t know why her silence after his words felt like a punch to the gut. He didn’t even know why he turned the bike around and came after her in the first place. It wasn’t like him. He wasn’t the comforting type. He didn’t do feelings.

And yet…

He couldn’t ignore the way she looked sitting at that bus stop. Small. Sad. Alone.

But still—he couldn’t let her get close. He wouldn’t.

She deserved better. Someone who could talk to her, laugh with her, show her kindness without hesitation. Someone who wasn’t made of walls and regrets.

So he hardened his voice. Pushed her away with sharp words.

He felt her silence behind him like a weight—but he didn’t take it back.

He told himself it was better this way.

Even if he didn’t quite believe it.

---

Levi’s POV

She didn’t even look at me.

The second the bike stopped in front of her dorm, she got off like the seat burned her. Her hands trembled slightly as she handed back the helmet.

“Thanks,” she said.

Barely a whisper.

And then she ran—head down, steps unsteady, like she was holding everything inside just long enough to reach the door.

I didn’t call out. Didn’t move.

Just watched her back disappear into the building.

Then I turned the bike around and headed back to my apartment.

The roads were nearly empty, just the low hum of the engine filling the silence. But even in the quiet, my mind wouldn’t stop.

Why did she cry like that?

Why did I care?

She was just a girl I helped a few times. That’s all. I didn’t ask her to get attached. I didn’t want her to.

And yet, something about the way her voice broke—about the way she refused to meet my eyes—stayed with me.

I told her the truth. I thought I did.

Helping her doesn’t mean anything. That’s what I said. That’s what I had to say.

Because if she starts thinking I care, if I start feeling something… it’ll end badly.

For her.

I’m not made for people like her. She’s soft, hopeful. Still young enough to believe the world can be kind. I’ve seen too much of it to believe that anymore. If she clings to me, I’ll only drag her into my mess. She doesn’t need that. She deserves more.

So I let her run.

Didn’t stop her.

Didn’t follow.

But even as I climbed the stairs to my apartment, threw the helmet on the table, and poured myself tea I didn’t really want…

I kept hearing her voice.

“Thanks.”

Like it meant goodbye.

And maybe it was.
---

Petra had changed into her warmest pajamas, but the chill inside her wouldn’t leave.

She lay curled beside Historia on the bed, still sniffling softly. Her face was buried in the pillow, and her fingers gripped the edge like it was the only thing keeping her grounded.

Historia sat close, rubbing slow circles on her back.

Petra’s phone buzzed again.

She lifted her head just enough to see the screen.

Sasha.

She quickly answered and poured her heart out—every word choked and tearful. Sasha listened, shocked and furious on Petra’s behalf, trying to comfort her, trying to lighten the mood like she always did.

But Petra’s heart felt too heavy tonight.

As soon as she hung up, the phone buzzed again.

This time, it was Hange-san.

Petra looked up at Historia, her eyes wide, face pale. Historia reached over gently and picked up the call, then handed it to Petra.

“H-Hello, Hange-san,” Petra said softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Have you reached?” Hange’s voice was kind, laced with concern.

“Y-Yeah, Hange-san,” Petra replied, forcing her voice steady.

“Are you sick?” Hange asked.

Petra hesitated. “No. Just… a little cold.”

“Take care, girl,” Hange said gently. “Rest well.”

“…Okay, Hange-san.”

There was a short silence before Hange spoke again.

“Did Levi… say anything to you?”

Petra swallowed.

Her voice trembled. “…Yeah.”

Hange didn’t ask what he said. She didn’t have to.

“Don’t mind him, okay?” she said quietly. “He’s… complicated. But don’t let his words hurt you too much. You’re a good kid. And you’re strong.”

Petra couldn’t speak. She just closed her eyes and let the tears fall again.

“Have a good night, Petra.”

“…You too, Hange-san. Take care.”

The call ended.

Petra let the phone fall to the bed. Historia tucked the blanket around her and pulled her close.

That night, Petra didn’t say anything else.

She just cried softly into her pillow, mourning something she never even had the chance to name.

The door opened with a quiet creak.

Everyone turned as Levi walked in, the air seeming to shift with him. His coat was damp, and his expression unreadable as always. He moved without looking at anyone, walking straight to the kitchen. The familiar sound of the kettle, the clink of porcelain. Silence followed him like a shadow.

He joined them in the living room with a cup of tea, standing off to the side rather than taking a seat.

“She was crying when she left,” Mike said bluntly.

Levi didn’t even blink. “Not my problem.”

Moblit frowned. “You were pretty harsh, weren’t you?”

“I said what needed to be said,” Levi replied coolly. “Better now than later.”

Hange leaned forward, her tone edged with frustration. “She’s not a soldier, Levi. She’s just a girl. One who clearly—”

“She got the wrong idea,” Levi cut her off. “I never promised her anything. Never encouraged anything. I helped her when she needed it. That’s all.”

“But she thought—”

“She thought wrong,” he said sharply, his eyes cold. “And it’s better she realizes that now. Before she makes it worse.”

Erwin watched him silently for a moment. “So you feel nothing.”

Levi stared into his tea, unmoved. “Exactly.”

Hange narrowed her eyes. “You don’t think you were cruel?”

“I was honest,” he said. “That’s more than most people give.”

There was a long silence. Even Mike didn’t have anything to add.

Then Levi placed the empty cup on the table and walked to the hallway. Before he left, he paused briefly in the doorway, but didn’t look back.

“If she’s crying over something that never existed, that’s her problem. Not mine.”

And then he was gone.

No hesitation. No warmth. Just the sound of the door closing behind him.

Meanwhile, Petra was… sad. Deeply sad.

Even though she tried to hide it behind her usual calm smile, something inside her felt hollow this Christmas. She still had college classes, but with the holidays approaching, a week-long break was just around the corner. Most of the girls in her dorm were already packing up and heading home to celebrate with their families.

Historia had called her several times, asking her to come along — even insisting. But Petra kept saying she’d be okay.

Sasha had gone to her grandmother’s house too. She called Petra and even begged her to come along, voice soft and pleading. But Petra had refused, gently, saying again and again, “I’ll be okay.”

Now, the dorm was nearly empty. Just a few girls remained. Petra spent most of her day working long hours at the nearby convenience store — anything to stay busy. Anything to keep her mind off him.

She wanted so badly to visit Granny Lise. But Granny’s house was too close to where her stepfather and stepbrother lived. It wasn’t safe.

Still, Granny had promised they’d meet soon — maybe on Christmas. She said Eren and Bertholdt might come too, and they could all spend some quiet time together. Petra clung to that hope.

That night, alone in her dorm room, Petra thought back to Christmases with her parents — the warmth, the lights, the laughter.

It had always been so full of love.

She cried quietly into her blanket. Sometimes for them.
And sometimes… for Levi.
The next night…

Petra stepped out into the cold, silent evening, wrapped in her long coat and scarf. The pain in her lower body was unbearable — her period had started, and the endometriosis made everything worse. Her legs felt weak, and every step sent a wave of pain through her abdomen, but she had no choice. She needed basic essentials.

Especially… sanitary napkins.

She stopped at a small medical shop first, scanning the shelves with tired eyes for something — anything — that might ease the pain. After grabbing a few medications, she walked slowly, almost dragging her feet, to the nearby convenience store.

Christmas music played gently in the background, cheerful and distant — like it belonged to another world. A world where she wasn’t hurting. Where she wasn’t alone.

She held back tears. The scarf covering her mouth also helped hide her trembling lips as she tried to stay composed.

She moved slowly down the aisle, picking up what she needed: pain relievers, pads, a small heat patch. Her hands were shaking so badly, she nearly dropped the basket.

Noticing her condition, the kind old shopkeeper — a man she’d seen many times — hurried over. “Miss, are you okay?” he asked gently.

Petra didn’t answer, just shook her head.

The old man didn’t press. He simply brought a wooden chair from behind the counter and set it near her. “Sit, please. Just rest a moment.”

Grateful but speechless, Petra sat down, her body still trembling, her eyes watery.

The bright lights above her flickered softly as the Christmas song changed to another one, the kind her parents used to play when she was a child. It was too much. She bent her head slightly, pretending to adjust her scarf… but really, she was hiding the tears.

After a while, the kind old uncle returned, holding a small cup of hot water in his hands.

“Here,” he said quietly, placing it on the counter beside her. “Drink this. It’ll help.”

Petra looked up at him, eyes glassy but grateful. She gave a small nod and murmured a soft, “Thank you,” her voice muffled behind the scarf.

She took the medication she had picked up earlier at the pharmacy — the painkillers, the muscle relaxant — and swallowed them with the warm water. The heat soothed her throat, and for just a moment, she let herself breathe.

She stayed there for a while, sitting in that little wooden chair near the counter. The shop was quiet, save for the soft hum of Christmas melodies playing over the speakers. The warm air from the small heater near the cashier helped ease the shivering in her limbs.

The old uncle didn’t ask questions. He just minded the shop, occasionally glancing at her with gentle concern, giving her space.

Outside, snowflakes had started to drift down slowly, glittering under the streetlights.

Inside, Petra sat quietly, her hands wrapped around the now-empty cup. The pain was still there, dull and lingering, but the warmth — and that small bit of kindness — had made it feel just a little more bearable.Eventually, Petra stood up slowly from the chair, clutching the little bag of essentials close to her chest.

“I should go… Thank you so much,” she whispered to the old shopkeeper, bowing her head slightly.

Seeing how pale and weak she looked, the uncle gently offered, “Let me book a cab for you, child. It’s too cold to walk, and you’re not well.”

But Petra, as always, shook her head. “I’ll be okay. It’s just a few minutes’ walk.”

He didn’t push — just watched her with a quiet sigh as she stepped out into the chilly night.

The moment she left the warmth of the store, the cold wind hit her like needles. Her legs were already trembling, and now, they barely seemed to move at all. Each step felt heavier than the last.

Within minutes, Petra regretted not accepting the ride.

Her body began to fold inward with every wave of pain. Her arms clutched her stomach tightly as the cramps returned, stronger than before. She couldn’t even feel her fingers properly anymore. The plastic bag of items slipped from her grip, falling to the snowy pavement with a soft thud.

Tears welled up in her eyes, blurring the dim lights of the street. She bit down on her scarf to stop herself from crying out loud. But it was no use — a soft, choked sob escaped as she leaned against the cold wall of a nearby building, trying to stay upright.

She couldn't keep going. Every step burned. Her body was done.

So she stood there, alone, under the soft fall of snow, quietly crying in the night — one hand on her stomach, the other gripping the wall for support, the world around her moving on in cheerful Christmas colors while she stayed frozen in her pain.She stood there for a few more moments, trembling, her breath shaky and shallow as the cold air burned her lungs.

Then, slowly — with trembling fingers — Petra bent down and picked up everything she had dropped. The medication, the small heat patch, the sanitary pads, all damp from the snow. She tucked them back into the bag, wiping her eyes quickly with her sleeve.

“I can do this,” she whispered to herself.

Her voice was almost a breath.

She straightened her back, still clutching her stomach tightly with one arm. And then she took a step.

And then another.

Each step felt like walking through fire and ice at the same time — the pain in her body screamed at her to stop, but she kept going. Her legs shook with every movement, and tears streamed silently down her cheeks, vanishing into the scarf around her mouth.

She didn’t care how she looked. The streets were mostly empty, just a few warm windows glowing in the distance. Everything around her felt far away, muffled by her pain and exhaustion.

But she kept walking.

One step at a time.

She didn’t know how long it took. It felt like forever. But somewhere deep inside, Petra had a quiet strength — a strength that even pain couldn’t drown.

And so, wrapped in her scarf, bag clutched to her chest, she made her way slowly back toward the dorm.

Alone. But not broken.

But her body had limits.

Just a few blocks from the dorms, the pain overwhelmed her again. Petra stumbled toward a nearby bench, collapsing onto it with a harsh gasp. She hunched over, one hand clutching her stomach, the other gripping the frozen edge of the bench for support.

Her breath came in short, shaking bursts. The world blurred again.

She sat there for a while — how long, she didn’t know — fighting the wave of dizziness and nausea that swept through her. Her vision spotted with white as the snow kept falling around her, sticking gently to her coat and scarf.

Eventually, with trembling limbs and sheer will, she stood again.

“I just have to get back…” she whispered, her voice barely a sound.

She took one shaky step forward.

Then another.

But the sidewalk was slippery, her legs too weak — and suddenly, her foot slipped on the icy patch of snow. Her knees buckled, and before she could catch herself, Petra fell hard onto the ground.

The cold bit into her palms. The snow clung to her clothes. She stayed there, dazed, gasping softly.

And then — a pair of strong hands gently lifted her up.

“Whoa, miss, are you okay?” a voice asked, firm but kind.

Another stranger nearby rushed over, concern in their voice. “She slipped—should we call someone?”

More footsteps gathered, crunching against the snow.

Petra blinked up at the blurred faces in the falling snow. Her lips parted, but the words didn’t come. Finally, she just nodded faintly and whispered, “Yeah… I’m okay…”

Her voice was hoarse and weak, almost inaudible. But no one pushed her. The stranger who had lifted her helped her sit down on the same bench she had fallen near.

Someone offered her a bottle of water, another asked if she wanted them to call a friend or get help.

But Petra just shook her head slightly.

“I just… need a minute,” she murmured, barely able to hold herself upright.

They let her sit, quietly surrounding her with a small bubble of concern — strangers offering silent support in a city full of indifference.
Most of the small crowd slowly dispersed, reassured that she was no longer in danger. Petra took another breath. Then another step.

The pain had dulled her thoughts, but not her body. It still screamed at her with every movement. Her legs felt like jelly beneath her, her hands numb even as she clutched the empty tea cup like it was her last tether to the world.

She just wanted to sleep.
A deep, long sleep that would wash it all away — the pain, the weakness, the silence.
Maybe… if she lay down right there on the snow, she’d finally feel peace.

Her body was shaking violently now. Her stomach ached so badly, she could hardly see straight.

Then, suddenly — a car pulled up near the sidewalk.

Headlights caught her in their glow, and for a moment, she flinched, shielding her eyes.

The window rolled down.

“Petra?” came the familiar voice — unmistakably Hange’s.

She was in the driver’s seat, leaning forward with concern written all over her face.

“Why are you out here like this?” she asked, trying to sound calm, but Petra could hear the tension in her voice.

Petra froze.

Author’s POV:
And in that moment — she hated it.
Hated how she always ended up like this.
How every single time something went wrong, somehow they were the ones who found her. Helped her. Picked her up.
It made her feel helpless, small, like a burden.
She didn’t want it. She didn’t want them to see her like this anymore.

“I… I’m going back to the dorm,” Petra stammered, trying to steady her voice.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” she whispered, voice barely audible. “See you.”

“Hey! Where are you going?”

But Petra just bowed her head and kept walking, her back turned to the car.

She couldn’t even form a proper answer. The truth was, she didn’t have the energy. Not to explain, not to pretend.

In the backseat, Mike sat quietly, his wife beside him — visibly worried. Levi was there too, silent as ever, his sharp eyes locked on Petra through the glass.

The car was full.

Petra didn’t look back.

Her body was trembling so violently now, it was a miracle she could even stay upright. Her steps were small, unsteady, and her hands curled protectively over her stomach.

And then it happened.

Her stomach suddenly twisted — a sharp, brutal surge of pain that took her breath away. Her knees gave out without warning, her legs no longer able to support her weight.

She was falling.

But before she hit the ground, a pair of arms caught her.

A man who had just been walking by saw her collapse and rushed forward, catching her just in time.

“Miss! Hey—are you okay?!”

Petra was limp in his arms, her face buried in her scarf, eyes clenched shut in pain.

And from the car — a door opened.

Fast footsteps followed.

---
The stranger had barely caught her when two figures rushed from the car.

“Petra!” Hange shouted, but it wasn’t her who reached first.

It was Moblit and Levi, running fast through the snow.

Moblit quickly took over from the stranger, steadying Petra’s shoulders. Levi was right behind him, his breath sharp in the cold air, his eyes focused only on her.

Petra’s legs folded beneath her again, and this time, she didn’t fight it.

She almost gave up. Right there.

The pain, the exhaustion, the cold — it was too much.

Her body was failing, and her mind was slipping. She couldn’t pretend anymore. She couldn’t smile or say “I’m fine.” She couldn't carry the weight of silence.

Her arms curled around her aching stomach, and the tears came. Quiet at first, then broken sobs that shook her already shivering frame.

“I… I can’t…” she whimpered, barely audible. “It hurts… I can’t do it anymore…”

Moblit’s expression twisted in worry, but he gently moved aside when Levi stepped forward — silent, unreadable.

Without saying anything, Levi knelt down beside her, snow gathering on the shoulders of his coat.

He didn’t speak. He didn’t ask.

He just gently took hold of her, one hand at her back, the other supporting her arm, and guided her to sit on a nearby bench.

Her body slumped onto the cold wood, barely able to hold herself up. She didn’t have the strength to resist.

Author POV:
And in that moment, Petra wasn’t the strong, polite girl anymore.
She wasn’t the quiet one who always said “I’m fine.”
She was just a girl in pain. Shaking. Crying.
And Levi saw all of it.

Petra gripped her stomach tightly, the tears rolling down her cheeks, falling freely now.

She didn’t care anymore.

The scarf slipped from her face slightly, revealing the red in her eyes, the pain in her expression. She didn’t even look up at them.

She was shaking so badly, her shoulders quivering with each breath, her sobs so soft they barely reached their ears — but Levi never looked away.

Moblit stood behind quietly, unsure whether to speak, while from the car, Hange stood watching with a tight expression, her hands clenched at her sides.

No one said anything for a moment.

Just Petra, crying quietly on the bench, and Levi crouched beside her in the snow, unmoving, silently steadying her with the weight of his presence.

The car door opened fully now. One by one, they stepped out — Hange, Mike, Mike’s wife, and Moblit, who hovered near the bench, watching Petra closely.

“Petra—what happened?!” Hange rushed forward, kneeling beside the girl, brushing snow off her coat.

Petra didn’t lift her head. Her arms were still clutched around her stomach.

“Hey… talk to me,” Hange pressed softly. “You’re scaring us.”

Petra’s lips trembled. It took all her effort to even whisper.

“P…Periods…”
The word was so quiet, barely even a breath.

There was a pause. Mike’s wife softened immediately. “Oh, honey… do we need to take you to the hospital?”

Hange’s eyes narrowed, sharp but kind. “Is it endometriosis? Are you taking anything?”

Petra gave a faint nod. “Y-Yes… Hange-san… I took medicine. F-from the store…”

Her voice cracked as she tried to form words, but the pain made it nearly impossible.

Mike’s wife crouched gently beside Hange, worry on her face. “Does this… happen often like this?”

Petra’s shoulders lifted in a faint nod again, her scarf damp with tears. “Y-yes… it… usually d-does…”

She sniffled hard, then whispered, “P-please… just drop me at the dorm. I-I’ll rest. Just s-sleep…”

“Petra, are you sure?” Hange said gently. “You’re crying in pain—”

“P-please…” she begged, her hands gripping her stomach tighter.

Author POV:
And behind them all, Levi stood still.
Silent. Watching.
Not asking questions.
Just staring at her — like something in him couldn’t look away.

Finally, Petra forced her head up slightly, and their eyes met.

“D-don’t look at me like that,” she said, voice shaking. “I… I don’t want to b-be seen like this…”

Her head dropped again, and her whole body trembled harder. She began crying again — not softly this time, but helplessly, like she’d been holding it in for too long.

Mike and his wife exchanged looks.

“There’s no space in the car,” Mike said, worried. “We’ll take a taxi. You take her—”

But Petra quickly shook her head, gasping, “N-No! Please… I-I don’t want to… bother… she’s p-pregnant…”

Mike’s wife tried to protest, but Petra shut her eyes and hunched over more, clearly overwhelmed.

Moblit quietly left to fetch some hot tea from the nearby stall.

Then suddenly—

Levi moved.

He stepped forward silently, crouched beside her again, and without a word, reached out.

His hand pressed gently over her stomach — not invasive, not too close, just steady warmth through her coat.

The other hand reached up and lightly brushed her hair away from her face.

Petra flinched slightly, overwhelmed, but she didn’t pull away.

“Stop crying,” Levi said quietly. His voice was low and blunt — but there was something beneath it. Something far from cold.

She didn’t answer.

Her tears didn’t stop either.

But somehow, her body slumped toward him just a little. Like the fight in her had worn out.

Moblit returned with the tea, and Levi stood up just as a cab pulled in, its headlights cutting through the dark.

“Come on,” he muttered. “We’re going.”

Petra blinked. “N-No—Levi—I’m f-fine. I just n-need to sleep…”

But Levi had already handed her bag to Moblit and held the door open.

And then, without waiting for permission, he gently lifted her up by the arm — not forcefully, but with quiet insistence.

Petra looked at him, stunned. Her legs were barely moving.

She stepped into the cab.

He got in right beside her.

The others watched from the curb. Hange let out a slow breath, whispering to Mike, “Well… there he goes.”

In the backseat, Petra curled up as best she could, still crying softly. She didn’t speak.

Levi didn’t either.

But his arm shifted closer to her — not touching, not awkward — just near enough that she could lean against him if she wanted.

And she did.
The cab ride was nearly silent.

Only Petra’s soft sobs and shallow breaths filled the space.

Levi sat still beside her, eyes fixed out the window, but his awareness never drifted far from her. Every time her body jerked from a wave of pain, his hand twitched — as if resisting the urge to hold her.

When they pulled up at the hospital, Levi didn’t wait.

He stepped out first, circled the cab, and opened her door. She tried to move, but her body wasn’t cooperating anymore. Before she could speak, he lifted her again, carefully, supporting her as they entered the ER.

Author POV:
Petra didn’t even protest.
Maybe she was too tired.
Or maybe… she just trusted him, even now, even when she hated needing help.

Inside, the nurses moved quickly once they saw her condition — pale, feverish, clearly in agony. After brief questioning and an exam, they got her admitted and started an IV drip.

She was placed in a small, curtained-off space with dim lights. The pain was still there, sharp and deep, but her body was so weak now that she could barely cry anymore. Only quiet whimpers left her lips, the occasional tremble of her hands.

She lay curled slightly on the hospital bed, the IV running slowly into her vein, a warm blanket over her legs, but her face was damp with tears.

Levi stood just outside the curtain for a while, arms crossed, eyes narrowed in thought — or maybe restraint.

Finally, the nurse gave him a small nod, and he stepped inside.

He didn’t speak.

He didn’t ask if she was okay.

He just pulled the chair closer and sat beside her.

Petra turned her head slightly toward him, her lips quivering. “I-I’m sorry… I didn’t want to c-cause trouble…”

Her voice was broken. Barely even sound.

Levi didn’t answer for a moment. His eyes were locked on her pale face, on the IV in her hand, on the tears on her cheek.

Then he said — voice low, flat, but not unkind:

“Stop saying that.”

Petra blinked, surprised.

“You’re not trouble,” he added.

Her throat tightened. She wanted to believe him, but years of burying her pain said otherwise.

She whispered again, “It… hurts so much… L-Levi…”

“I know,” he replied softly.

Silence stretched again.

Then — and only then — Levi did something she never expected.

He leaned forward and gently took her hand, the one without the IV. His grip was firm, grounding. Not romantic. Not emotional. But solid.

And that… somehow made all the difference.

Petra gripped his hand weakly, her tears falling again — not out of panic this time, but quiet release.

The small hospital room had grown warmer with company.

Everyone had arrived and quietly taken their seats — Hange, Moblit, Mike, Mike’s wife, and Nile. The voices had died down, giving space for stillness. No one made unnecessary noise. They were watching.

Petra lay weakly against the pillows, still hooked up to the IV drip, her face pale and eyes half-lidded from exhaustion. Her pain had lessened only slightly — enough to keep her conscious, but not enough to bring her peace.

Moblit stepped forward and gently handed Levi the tea he bought for her earlier.

Without a word, Levi shifted closer to her, his movements quiet, smooth, like he’d done this a hundred times.

“Sit up,” he said under his breath.

Petra blinked, barely able to move her arms. But before she could even try, Levi’s hand slid behind her lower back, the other firm against her hip. He guided her up with surprising gentleness, lifting her into a better position.

Petra whimpered softly — the pain hadn’t gone — but she didn’t resist.

Levi didn’t flinch either.

He held the cup of tea up to her lips with one hand, while his other arm remained around her, steadying her weak body.

Petra’s fingers barely moved. The numbness in her limbs and the ache in her gut made it impossible. But she let the tea touch her lips and sipped, just barely. Levi tilted the cup slowly, keeping the pace gentle.

Everyone in the room watched — still, quiet.

Author POV:
No one said it.
No one dared.
But they all saw it.

The man who always claimed:

> “She’s just someone I know.”
“I don’t care what she does.”
“I don’t have time for that kind of thing.”

Was now…

...cradling the very girl he supposedly felt nothing for.

There was no anger in his face. No coldness.
Only silence. Intensity. Focus.

As if this mattered more to him than anything else in the world at that moment.

Mike leaned closer to Hange and murmured, “You still think he doesn’t care?”

Hange smirked faintly, arms crossed, eyes fixed on the pair.

“No,” she whispered back. “I think he’s the only one who doesn’t know he cares.”

Mike’s wife smiled gently, resting her hand on her stomach. “Or maybe… he knows. He just doesn’t want to admit it.”

Petra, in her haze of pain and heat, blinked up at him weakly.

“Y-You… d-don’t have to… do this…” she whispered, barely audible. “You d-don’t even… like me…”

Levi paused only for a second.

Then, quietly, he tilted the cup again.

“Shut up and drink,” he said, voice low, steady — but not unkind.

And Petra, despite herself, let out a faint, trembling breath that might’ve almost been a laugh.

Then she sipped again, tears still on her cheeks.

And Levi sat still. Holding her.

No one interrupted.

Because sometimes, the loudest truths are in the silences.
After Petra had finished most of the tea, her breathing eased just a little. Not gone — the pain was still there, sharp and biting in her lower belly — but she could breathe through it now.

Levi gently eased her back down.

His hand still supported her as he lowered her against the pillow, careful not to pull on the IV line in her arm. The first IV bag had just finished dripping, a nurse silently stepping in to switch it with another.

Petra whimpered softly again, her fingers brushing her stomach unconsciously — the pain was dull now, but still very much alive, tugging at her insides.

Across the room, Mike and his wife began getting ready to leave.

“It’s getting really late,” Mike’s wife murmured, resting a hand on her bump. “We should head home.”

Mike nodded, throwing one last glance at Petra, then another at Levi, unreadable. “Take care of her, Captain.”

Levi gave the smallest nod. Nothing more.

Petra weakly lifted her hand, trying to wave, “T-Thank you…”

They both leaned over her for a soft goodbye. Mike’s wife gave her a gentle kiss on the forehead, whispering, “You’re strong, sweetheart. Just hang in there.”

And then they were gone, the door clicking shut softly behind them.

Now only Hange and Levi remained — still, quiet, dim lights overhead.

The new IV had started to drip again, and Petra’s pain had started climbing once more, slow but deep. Her hand curled around her stomach again, fingers gripping the blanket.

“Still hurting?” Hange asked softly.

Petra didn’t answer. She just nodded faintly, lip trembling.

Suddenly, Hange walked over and sat beside her.

“It’s alright,” she whispered, brushing the hair off Petra’s forehead. “Just breathe through it.”

Petra shut her eyes, body tensing, the pain tugging inside like a cruel knot.

Without waiting, Hange gently placed her hand over Petra’s belly, above the area Petra had been clutching.

She rubbed softly, circular, soothing motions — the way a sister would.

“It’s okay,” she murmured. “Just let it pass. You’re not alone.”

Petra finally let out a weak sob, tears trickling silently down the sides of her face. She was tired. So tired of hurting. Of pretending. Of trying to be strong in front of everyone.

And for once… she let herself just be.

Levi stood silently by the wall, arms crossed, watching everything.

Author POV:
He didn’t stop Hange.
Didn’t speak.
But his gaze never left Petra — not once.
Not when she cried.
Not when her body shook.
Not even when she whispered things she thought no one heard.

Because despite everything he said — or pretended not to feel — he was still here.

Still watching.

Still staying.

Still caring in the only way he knew how.
Around 4 a.m., the hospital room was cloaked in soft darkness. The only light came from a small lamp by the bedside and the faint glow of Levi’s phone screen.

Hange had fallen asleep, curled uncomfortably in one of the visitor chairs, her glasses slipping halfway down her nose.
Moblit, too, had dozed off against the wall, head bobbing slightly.

Petra blinked slowly, her body feeling lighter — the stabbing pain from earlier had finally dulled to a tolerable throb. But a new discomfort made her shift in alarm.

She pressed her legs together.

Her voice came out low, hoarse.
“L-Levi-san…”

He didn’t look up immediately. He was checking something on his phone, scrolling. But the moment her voice cracked again — softer, hesitant —
“L-Levi san…”

His head lifted.

Their eyes met in the dim light.

“What?” he said quietly, standing up slowly.

Petra lowered her eyes, her cheeks burning.
“I… I need to go to the toilet.”

Levi blinked once. “Oh.”

He moved toward her instinctively, ready to help — but she gripped the edge of the blanket, ashamed.

“I… I leaked… the bed’s a bit—” she broke off, visibly shaken, face red with embarrassment. “S-sorry. I didn’t mean to— I was sleeping—”

“You have your things?” Levi asked, interrupting softly — not cold, just calm.

She nodded quickly, not looking at him. “I-I have some sanitary napkins in the pharmacy bag… in the shopping bag…”

Levi walked over, found the bag, pulled out what she needed without hesitation — then turned back to her.

“Come on,” he said. “Let’s go.”

She hesitated. “I… I can walk a little.”

But the moment she tried to swing her legs over the bed, her knees buckled slightly. Levi was there immediately, arms steadying her without comment.

He helped her all the way to the bathroom door, careful and quiet.

“I’ll wait here,” he said simply, passing her the clean clothes and the napkins.

Petra whispered a quiet “thank you” before slipping inside.

The door clicked shut.

Levi stood there in the hall — arms folded, back against the wall, waiting. Watching the door with a faint crease in his brow, like he was making sure she didn’t collapse again.

A few minutes passed.

Then the door opened slowly.

She stepped out — her face washed, She looked tired. But cleaner. Lighter. And her pain had clearly eased some.

Levi stepped forward again, offering his arm without a word.

She took it.

He brought her back to bed slowly, supporting her carefully, lowering her back onto the mattress like she was made of glass.

“Better?” he asked softly, not looking directly at her.

Petra nodded faintly. “Y-Yeah… a lot better.”

He didn’t respond, just adjusted the blanket over her and stepped back, ready to return to his spot.

But Petra didn’t lie down.

She sat there instead, gazing at him — still seated near the window, face lit by his phone again.

“Do you ever sleep?” she asked gently, voice almost playful but weak.

Levi’s eyes flicked to her. “Sometimes.”

“Liar…”

He didn’t respond.

Petra just smiled faintly, shifting under the blanket.

And for a while, they said nothing.

Just two people — stuck in the middle of a quiet hospital room — breathing in the silence between them.

And in that moment, for the first time in a long time, Petra didn’t feel alone.

---

6 a.m.

The winter sky had just begun to brighten, soft blue peeking over the horizon, chasing away the black of night. The hospital air was cold, crisp, and carried the quiet that only early morning knew.

Petra stepped out slowly with Levi and Hange flanking her, Moblit right behind. Her legs were still shaky — the medication was working, but exhaustion clung to her like a second skin.

Moblit had brought the car.

He opened the door quickly, and Hange turned to Petra, brushing some snowflakes from her hair.

“Hey,” Hange said gently, “you should come stay with us for a few days. Just until you feel better. You don’t need to go back to that freezing dorm alone.”

Petra gave a small smile but shook her head.

“I’ll be okay. I promise.”

Hange sighed, clearly not convinced. But Petra’s decision was firm.

They all got in — Hange and Moblit in the front, and Levi and Petra quietly seated in the back.

Levi had his arms crossed, his face unreadable as always. Petra leaned her head against the cold window, eyes half-closed. She was still in the same clothes from yesterday, her hair a little messy, but her face looked softer now — like the worst had passed.

About halfway through the drive, Levi leaned forward, signaling to Moblit.

“Stop by a convenience store and pharmacy.”

They stopped briefly.

When he got back in, Levi handed Petra a small bag without a word — medications, a heating patch, some warm onigiri and snacks, and even a small bottle of hot tea.

She blinked at it, surprised.

“I figured dorm food sucks,” he muttered.

Petra looked at the bag… then at him.

A tiny smile curved her lips. She hugged it close to her chest like it was something precious.

“…Thank you,” she whispered.

Levi didn’t reply. He just glanced away, acting like it was nothing.

The rest of the drive passed in a comfortable silence. Hange and Moblit chatted lightly about the day ahead, but the backseat remained wordless.

Then they arrived.

The dorm building stood quietly behind the main gates, still dark except for a few early lights. Most of the girls had gone home for the holidays.

Petra opened the door slowly, preparing to get out.

“I’ll walk with her,” Levi said simply, gathering the bag and hopping out behind her.

Moblit and Hange watched from the car as Levi walked beside her, step by step, carrying the bag without question. Her movements were slow, cautious.

Finally, they reached the dorm entrance.

Levi handed over the bag to her — carefully, like it was heavier than it looked. Petra took it with both hands and looked up at him, smiling softly.

“Thank you… for everything,” she said, voice low. “For staying… for not leaving.”

Levi just stared down at her, unreadable again.

And then…

She leaned forward.

Her heart was thudding, cheeks pink, breath fogging up in the cold air.

She closed her eyes.

And pressed a soft kiss to his cheek.

Not rushed. Not impulsive.

It lingered — for a second too long. Her lips against his cold skin, trembling a little.

Warm. Grateful. Gentle.

Something she’d wanted to do for so long.

Then she pulled away, blinking at him with wide, startled eyes — suddenly realizing what she’d just done. Her face turned scarlet.

“I—I’m sorry— I don’t know why I—”

But she didn’t wait for his response.

She turned and hurried inside, half-walking, half-blushing, disappearing through the doors with her heart pounding out of her chest.

Levi stood there.

Still.

Absolutely, completely frozen.

Author POV:
It was as if someone had turned him to stone.
No blink. No flinch. No twitch.
The great Levi Ackerman —
stopped dead in his tracks by a five-second kiss.

Back in the car, Hange watched it all happen.

She rolled the window down and leaned out.

“OI! STONE STATUE!” she called out loudly, smirking. “You planning to stand there until spring or what?!”

Levi blinked — once — slowly.

Then turned around wordlessly and walked back to the car, face calm, but his ears…

Were burning red.

Moblit glanced at Hange, whispering, “Did she just kiss him?”

Hange leaned back into her seat, grinning wide.

“Oh, she absolutely did.”

Hange and Moblit had seen everything from the front seat through the windshield.

As Petra leaned forward and gently kissed Levi’s cheek, neither of them said a word.

Moblit glanced at Hange, quietly surprised, but smiled faintly.

Hange just returned the smile, soft and understanding. No teasing, no nudging — just a quiet recognition of something delicate.

When Levi walked back to the car, his expression unreadable as ever, they didn’t comment.

No smirks.
No jokes.
No pointed looks.

They simply let him sit down and start the ride again, as if nothing unusual had happened.

Just silence — calm, respectful.

But something unspoken lingered in the air…
and they both felt it.

---

Chapter Text

She kissed him.It wasn’t dramatic.It wasn’t loud.No confessions, no words.
Just a small girl, standing in the snow, pressing her lips gently to his cheek… and then slipping away like it never happened.

Levi didn’t move.

He didn’t blink.Didn’t breathe, for a second.
Only the cold wind brushing past his collar reminded him he was still standing in this world.

She kissed him.

Why?
That was the question ringing in his head like an echo he couldn’t silence. It wasn’t the first time she smiled at him. Not the first time she thanked him. But this—This was different.
It wasn’t playful.It wasn’t childish admiration.It was… something else.
Warm.Soft.Real.He didn't know what to do with it.
He didn’t want to know what to do with it.
Affection like that — he didn’t deserve it. He was no one’s warmth. No one’s soft place to fall. Especially not hers.And yet…She gave it to him anyway.
He turned and walked back to the car. His body moved out of habit, legs carrying him like clockwork. Inside, Hange and Moblit said nothing. Good. He didn’t have space in his head for their jokes, even if they meant well.
He sat in silence.
Back straight, arms crossed, gaze turned away from the others.
But his thoughts… they weren’t quiet.
> “Why did she do that?”
“Was it just gratitude?”
“Was it something more?”
“What the hell does she want from me?”

He shook his head slightly. He hated these feelings — this mess of uncertainty, guilt, and that damn warmth that lingered on his skin.It had been seconds.
But it still burned.Not in a bad way.That’s what made it worse.
He glanced at the window, at the reflection of the dorm behind him — and somewhere deep inside, he knew…
This wasn’t just about her.It was about him.
About something he'd buried years ago and told himself he never needed.
Connection.Care.Someone looking at him like that and meaning it.
He wasn’t ready.He didn’t know if he ever would be.
But for the first time in a long time…He didn’t want to push it away.

He didn’t understand it.He didn’t want to accept it.But he didn’t hate it either.
And that confused him more than anything.

Petra POV

I can’t believe I did that.My hand was still pressed to my forehead as I stood in the dorm lobby, staring at the door I just walked through.A kiss.On his cheek.
Why?
What was I even thinking?
He’s the one who has always been there — the guy who’s seen me at my weakest, who practically carried me through the night. The one who said I shouldn’t be bothering him, yet here I was, just… doing it.I pressed my palms to my eyes and shook my head, trying to erase the thought of his frozen expression. His face — unreadable as always, yet... different. Was he confused? Or maybe he just didn't care.
But I couldn’t lie to myself. I knew what I was feeling.
When I thought about Levi, it wasn’t just gratitude. It was more than that. It had been building up slowly, over time. The way he looked at me, the way he stood there, always quiet, always calm, and yet somehow... I felt safe with him.
I smiled to myself, half-laughing at my own stupidity.Maybe I did care.
Maybe it wasn’t just him taking care of me, it was something else. It was the way he made me feel seen, even without saying much.
I took a deep breath and went to the bathroom, trying to wash away the weird knot in my stomach. But the feeling didn’t go away — it lingered. He was always there, but I never thought I’d feel like this. Not with him. Not with someone like him.

I let the hot water run over me, closing my eyes for a moment, trying to clear my head. The kiss was... impulsive. Stupid, maybe. But it felt real. I felt real in that moment.Afterward, I sat on the edge of my bed, exhausted. My body was still aching from last night, but at least the pain had eased a little. Levi had brought me food — thoughtful, like always. I ate slowly, savoring the simple comfort of it.
I should’ve been thinking about what comes next, about what I was going to do with this weird, warm feeling bubbling inside of me. But I was too tired to care.
I took my medications, curled under the blankets, and let my mind wander.
The warmth from the kiss, the lingering taste of tea, the soft sound of Levi’s voice — it all mixed together in my tired mind.
I fell asleep, letting the thoughts blur. Letting myself rest for a few hours, not worrying about the mess I’d just made in my head.

Maybe tomorrow I’d have answers. Or maybe I wouldn’t.But tonight, I just needed the peace.And for once, that was enough.

The following days passed slowly for Petra.

She barely left her bed. The pain had returned — not as sharp as before, but exhausting enough to keep her still, drained, and silent. No one was around to comfort her this time. She remained curled up most of the day, tangled in blankets, surviving on the medicines and snacks Levi had quietly bought for her.
By the fifth day, the worst of the pain had finally eased. But the tiredness lingered like a shadow. Still, she pushed herself. In few nights, she was supposed to meet Granny, Eren, and Bertholdt. Just the thought of it gave her a reason to move again.
---

The winter sun peeked through the clouds, barely warming the chill that settled over the rooftops. Petra had just come in after hanging up her freshly washed laundry on the terrace, her limbs aching slightly with each movement. The doctor had said healing would take time — and it was.
She dragged herself back to bed, her comfort zone these days. Wrapped in her oversized hoodie and blanket, she lay on her side, amber eyes half-lidded in exhaustion.Her phone buzzed suddenly on the table beside her.

"...Hello?"
A silence. Then a low, unmistakable voice broke through.
Levi: "You're alive, then."
Petra sat upright instinctively. Her fingers clenched the blanket.
Petra: "Captain...?"
Levi: "Tch. Don’t call me that."
His tone was dry, almost indifferent. No warmth, no softness. Just as distant as ever.Petra: "Sorry... I didn’t expect your call."
Levi: "You were stupid. Walking into danger without thinking. Could’ve died."
Petra: "...I didn’t choose it."
Her voice was soft, barely above a whisper.
There was a pause. The silence on the other side felt heavier than his words.
Levi: "Hange said you're not moving around much. Stay that way."
Petra: "I’ve been resting. Just… doing laundry. I’m okay."
Levi: "‘Okay’ doesn’t mean healed."
She didn’t know what to say. His voice wasn’t angry. It wasn’t kind either. Just… blank.Petra: "Why did you call?"Another pause.
Levi: "...Just checking. That’s all."
Petra: "Oh…"Her heart thudded quietly. She wanted to ask more — how he was, where he was — but the words stuck.
Levi: "That all?"
Petra: "...Yes. Thank you for calling."
Levi: "Don't thank me."
Click.
The line went dead.
Petra stared at the screen for a long while. A part of her wanted to cry. Another part… just smiled faintly.He had called.

The dorm was silent, but Petra’s chest felt noisy. Her thoughts were spinning again. She rolled over in bed, eyes fixed on the ceiling, pain dull in her lower abdomen.It had been days. No call. No message.
Levi’s silence echoed louder than any words.She missed him.
She didn’t mean to be a burden. She just wanted to hear his voice. Just for a second.
She dialed.Ring... Ring...He picked up.But it wasn’t his usual silence.
It was chaos.Gunshots. Screaming. The sound of boots on gravel.And then — his voice.
Levi (furious, loud): “WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT. DID SOMETHING HAPPENED TO YOU?!”Petra flinched.
Petra: “L-Levi— s -san i am ok-ey i just I… I didn’t know you were—”
Levi (snaps, yelling): “YOU DIDN’T KNOW?! ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?!”
There was yelling in the background. A male voice screamed in pain.
Levi (shouting away from the phone): “KEEP PRESSURE ON IT! DON’T YOU DARE PASS OUT ON ME—DAMN IT!”

His breathing was harsh as he came back on the line.

Levi (growling into the phone): “I’ve got a man bleeding out under my hands, another missing, and you’re calling me in the middle of it for WHAT? To WHINE? TO CHITCHAT?”
Petra (shaking): “I just— I couldn’t sleep—”
Levi (furious, cutting her off): “YOU COULDN’T SLEEP?! ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR FUCKING MIND?”
Petra: “I didn’t know you were in danger—”
Levi: “EVERY FUCKING DAY I’M IN DANGER! THAT’S MY JOB! WHAT ABOUT YOU, PRINCESS? LYING IN BED, FEELING LONELY? IS THAT YOUR CRISIS?”

She went silent. Her mouth opened, but no words came.

Levi (rage boiling over): “You selfish, clueless little girl. Do you even THINK before you do shit like this? You don’t call a soldier MID-MISSION unless someone’s DEAD. Got it? DEAD.”

Petra (voice trembling): “I didn’t mean—”

Levi (cold and loud): “SHUT UP.”

Her chest caved in.

Levi: “You didn’t mean to? You NEVER mean to.That’s your whole fucking thing. Acting without thinking, expecting everyone to pick up your slack. I picked up your slack enough. I dragged your half-conscious body to the ER with Hange while you bled all over my seat.”And I am

Levi (viciously): “You’re not my responsibility, Petra. You never were. And I’m DONE pretending like I owe you anything.”

Petra’s lips trembled. Her eyes filled, but no tears fell yet.

Levi (growling): “You want comfort? Call someone who gives a shit. Don’t call me again. Ever.”

A loud burst of noise erupted behind him — maybe another round of gunfire.
Levi (yelling to his team): “MOVE! COVER HIM—NOW!”
And then, right before he hung up—

Levi (final words, low and venomous): “Don’t ever fucking call me again unless it’s life or death. And if it’s you, I’d still think twice about picking up.”
Click.
Petra sat still. The call ended.The room was silent again.But inside her — it wasn’t.
She stayed frozen, gripping the phone, until the first tear rolled down. Then another. Then it all crumbled.
She broke into quiet sobs, her chest shaking as she buried her face in her blanket.

She didn’t mean to be a burden.But tonight…Levi made sure she knew she was.
---
: Minutes Later – Petra’s Dorm Room

The phone had gone dark.The screen dimmed.But Petra couldn’t move.
Her fingers were still wrapped around it, frozen mid-air, as though if she held on long enough, the call might still be there — might undo itself.
But it was gone.He was gone.Her breath hitched.And then — tears.
They started slow, sliding down her cheeks in silence. No dramatic sobs. No gasps. Just… pain. Deep and hollow.
She curled forward in her bed, knees pulled to her chest, forehead resting against them.
Her heart was pounding in her ears.
> “You selfish, clueless little girl.”“You never were my responsibility.”“Don’t ever fucking call me again.”“Call someone who gives a shit.”

The words echoed. Over and over and over.Like knives.
Just a few days ago, he had been different.
She remembered his hands — cold but careful — adjusting the blanket around her at the hospital.
She remembered his voice — quiet, almost warm — when he told her not to move too much.
She remembered him staying near her bed, arms crossed, pretending not to care… but staying anyway.

“Don’t move.”“You’re too reckless.”“Get some sleep.”

Those words felt so far away now.What changed?
Why did he sound like he hated her now?
Petra clutched her phone to her chest and wept harder.
She didn’t mean to disturb him.She didn’t know someone had been shot.
She didn’t think he’d ever speak to her like that — like she was worthless. Like
she was nothing.but maybe… that’s what she was to him now.
Or maybe that’s what she always was — and she just didn’t see it until tonight.

The blanket around her felt heavy, suffocating. The room was quiet but her sobs finally broke free — muffled in her pillow, where no one else would hear.
She stayed that way until her eyes ached from crying.
And even when the tears stopped…Her chest still hurt.
Because it wasn’t just what he said.
It was that he meant it.

: Night Before Christmas Eve – Local Family Diner

The small local diner glowed with warm golden lights. The windows fogged slightly from the heat inside and the chill outside. Simple paper stars and tinsel lined the edges, giving the place a cozy, festive feel.
Petra arrived in a soft maroon sweater, still a little tired but smiling for the first time in days. Granny had insisted she go out with the boys — “You need laughter more than medicine,” she said. Petra didn’t argue.
Eren was already waving from their corner booth, grinning like he’d just won a race.
Eren: “Oi, finally! We thought you were gonna bail.”

Petra (raising an eyebrow): “I was five minutes late, Eren.”

Bertholdt (quietly smiling): “To be fair, he starts panicking if someone’s not early by fifteen minutes.”

Eren: “That’s because I respect punctuality, Bertholdt.”

Petra (grinning): “Didn’t you once show up an hour early to your own birthday dinner?”

Eren (defensive): “That was strategic! I wanted to beat the rush. And… also because I forgot what time I told people to come.”

Bertholdt (murmuring): “He sat there for 55 minutes eating free mints.”

They all laughed as Petra slid into the booth across from them.

Petra: “So. What’s on the menu? Please tell me we’re not doing Eren’s ‘let’s order the weirdest item’ challenge again.”

Eren: “Oh no. We’re absolutely doing that.”

Bertholdt (grinning nervously): “Last time he made us eat pickled fish ice cream, Petra. I’m still recovering emotionally.”

Petra: “You know what? Fine. But if I end up in the hospital again, I’m writing both your names in my medical report.”

Eren: “Deal. And we’ll sign it in sparkly pen.”

The waiter came by and they ordered a mix of things — some normal, some… questionably experimental. The boys couldn’t resist.
Half an hour later, their table was a chaos of plates: regular burgers, garlic-laced fries, some strange glowing green soda Eren insisted was “radioactive lemonade,” and a bowl of “Spicy Mystery Soup”.

Petra (sniffing the soup cautiously): “This smells like betrayal.”
Eren: “Smells like adventure.”
Bertholdt: “Smells like it might permanently damage my organs.”
Petra took a sip. Immediately choked.

Petra (coughing): “WHO PUT JALAPEÑOS, COCONUT MILK, AND GINGERBREAD IN THIS?!”

Eren (laughing too hard): “You did it! You took the Challenge Spoon!”

Petra: “I’m gonna take that spoon and shove it up your—”

Bertholdt (quickly cutting in): “Petra! Holiday spirit!”

Eren: “Yeah! Holiday cheer! Mistletoe, snow, and mouth destruction!”

They all burst out laughing.

After a while, the conversation mellowed out. The music playing overhead was soft and familiar — a lazy Christmas tune. Petra leaned back with a content sigh, cheeks still flushed from laughter and spice.

Petra: “You know… I needed this.”

Eren: “Told you.”

Bertholdt: “It’s not Christmas without slightly poisoned soup and regret.”

Petra (smiling): “Granny was right. You two are like chaotic medicine.”

Eren: “We’ll add that to our resume. ‘Professional Emotional Support Disasters.’”

Bertholdt (deadpan): “With a minor in accidental food poisoning.”

They all laughed again — full and real this time.

For the first time in days, Petra didn’t feel the weight in her chest.

Just warmth.And friendship.And spicy, terrible soup.

The winter air was crisp but not too cold — just enough to make the tips of their noses pink. The nearby street had been transformed into a festive holiday market, lights strung above like stars, little booths lining either side, and music playing from hidden speakers.

Granny Lise led the pack, walking faster than anyone would expect for her age, her scarf flapping behind her like a cape.

Granny (calling back): “Keep up, you sloths! If I get to the donut stall first, I’m not sharing!”

Eren (laughing): “Granny’s got turbo mode activated!”

Bertholdt (jogging slightly): “Is this normal? Is she always this fast when sugar’s involved?”

Petra (panting as she catches up): “You don’t understand. She once outran a bus for cinnamon rolls.”

---

They reached the row of stalls — glittering handmade ornaments, steaming cocoa carts, knit mittens, glowing lanterns, even a llama-shaped candle store.

Petra (grinning): “I want a picture with the llama candles.”

Eren: “You’re such a tourist.”

Bertholdt: “You tripped on the welcome mat. You’ve earned that title.”

Petra: “Hey! That mat came out of nowhere!”

Eren: “It was glued down.”

---

They posed for pictures beside an oversized Christmas tree, Eren making ridiculous faces, Bertholdt trying to hold a candy cane in his mouth like a pipe, and Petra trying (and failing) to take a serious selfie with Granny, who photobombed by wearing a reindeer mask.

Granny: “If I’m not going viral tonight, I’ve failed my legacy.”

Petra (laughing): “You’re chaos in a shawl.”

---

Then it happened.

As they crossed a small icy patch near a cocoa stall—

Petra (slipping): “Wait—nononono—!”

THUD!

She landed on her butt with a surprised squeak, arms flailing as a single marshmallow from a kid’s dropped cup rolled next to her.

Eren (WHEEZING): “SHE’S DOWN!”

Bertholdt (trying to help her up while choking back laughter): “Petra—are you—oh god—are you okay?!”

Petra (grumbling): “I slipped on air. I literally slipped on air.”

Granny (leaning over dramatically): “Petra, darling, should we wrap you in bubble wrap next time we go out?”

Eren: “Or those toddler knee-pads? You know, for maximum survival?”

Petra (mock glare): “You’re all terrible.”

Bertholdt: “And you’re horizontal.”

They all burst out laughing — Petra included.

Later, with cocoa in hand and a bandaid on her elbow (Granny was very prepared), they sat on a bench beneath twinkling fairy lights.

Eren: “You’ve fallen so many times this year.”

Bertholdt: “You slipped on wet grass, a shoe rack, and now air.”

Granny: “Don’t forget the mop bucket incident. That counts.”

Petra (groaning into her mittens): “I’m never going out again.”

Eren: “You mean falling out again.”

Petra: “I WILL THROW THIS COCOA AT YOU.”

Bertholdt (hiding behind Granny): “You have no aim!”

Granny (raising her mug): “Merry Christmas Eve to chaos and clumsiness!”

All together, laughing: “Cheers!”

---
After stuffing themselves with hot cocoa and roasting marshmallows over a barrel fire near the end of the market, the four of them wandered into the open park nearby — where fresh snow blanketed everything in soft white.

Eren (grinning): “You know what time it is.”

Bertholdt (concerned): “No, no, no, no. Eren. Don’t.”

Eren (grabbing snow): “It’s snowball deathmatch time, baby.”

Granny (already crouched like a war general): “FINALLY.”

Petra: “Wait, what?! I’m wearing suede boots!!”

But it was too late.

Eren chucked the first snowball right at Petra’s back, and chaos erupted.

Bertholdt tried to stay neutral at first — big mistake. A rogue snowball hit him square in the face.

Bertholdt (sputtering): “Who did that?!”

Petra: “I did. Traitor’s neutral no more.”

Bertholdt: “This means WAR.”

Granny was by far the most dangerous. She moved like a ninja behind snowbanks and ambushed people with terrifying accuracy.

Granny (hurling a snowball at Eren’s head): “Feel the wrath of Grandma Frost!”

Eren: “AHHH—SHE’S TOO FAST—!”

Petra tried to run for cover behind a tree. Didn’t help.

Eren: “Don’t fall—don’t fall—”

Petra (yelling): “I’M NOT THAT CLUMSY—”Slip.

She went down again. Snow everywhere.

Bertholdt (wheezing): “That’s five times this year.”

Petra (spitting snow out): “I HATE ALL OF YOU.”

Granny: “Snow in the mouth builds character.”

Then Eren got too cocky.

Eren: “No one can touch me—watch this dodg—”

BONK!
A snowball from Granny nailed him in the ear.

Eren (shouting): “AGH—my soul left my body!”

Granny (evil cackle): “Flawless aim. Still got it.”

At some point, Bertholdt accidentally hit himself mid-throw, trying to duck under a bench and launching snow straight up into his own hood.

Bertholdt: “It’s… it’s in my neck. It’s IN MY NECK—”Petra finally took revenge.

While Eren was bent over laughing at Bertholdt’s snow-neck crisis, Petra snuck up behind him, packed a perfect snowball, and jammed it down the back of his jacket.

Eren (screaming): “BETRAYAL!!”

Petra (grinning): “Consider it payback for the ‘horizontal’ comment.”

Eventually, the four of them collapsed into the snow, breathless, red-nosed, and soaking wet. They lay in a star shape, staring up at the sky.

Granny: “I haven’t moved like that in years. I feel twenty again.”

Bertholdt: “I think I pulled a rib.”

Eren: “I think Petra broke my rib.”

Petra: “I think I fell in love with snow just to be personally attacked by it.”

They all burst into tired laughter under the winter sky
After their intense snowball battle, the group trudged back toward the lit-up market square, wet, exhausted, and half-covered in slush. Granny Lise had finally reached her limit.

Granny (collapsing onto a bench dramatically): “My knees are filing a formal complaint. You three continue your youthful chaos. I’m officially retired until further notice.”

Eren (grinning): “Noted. We’ll keep the madness alive in your honor.”

Bertholdt: “Let’s play something less… icy.”

Petra (mock shivering): “If the next game involves my butt hitting the snow again, I’m suing.”

---
They found a small open patch with benches and a warm fire barrel. Nearby, a group of kids had left chalk behind. That’s when Eren got a terrible idea.

Eren (smirking): “Guys. Let's play ‘Truth-Dare-Dodge.’”

Petra: “That sounds illegal.”

Bertholdt: “That sounds stupid.”

Eren: “Exactly. Perfect.”

Petra: “How do you play it?”

Eren (grinning wide): “Truth or dare. If you refuse to answer or do it, we throw a snowball at you. No questions. No mercy.”

Bertholdt: “You made this up just now.”

Eren: “I’m an innovator.”

They agreed. Mostly because it was too cold to argue for long.

Round One: Petra

Eren: “Truth or dare, Petra?”

Petra: “Truth. I value my dignity.”

Eren (grinning): “Okay… what’s your most embarrassing crush ever?”

Petra: “Easy. In middle school I had a poster of a fictional vampire with a six-pack and a man bun. I used to write his name in my notebooks.”

Bertholdt (snorting): “A man bun?”

Eren: “Was it ‘Darkfang Nightblade’ or something dramatic?”

Petra (deadpan): “His name was Lucien Blackthorne. Respect the cringe.”

They all howled with laughter. Round Two: Bertholdt

Petra: “Truth or dare, Mr. Snow-in-the-Neck?”

Bertholdt: “Truth.”

Eren: “Coward.”

Petra: “What’s your weirdest talent?”

Bertholdt (blushing): “...I can sing the alphabet backwards in a fake opera voice.”

Petra & Eren (instantly shouting): “DO IT. RIGHT NOW.”

Bertholdt: “No way!”

Petra (grabbing snowball): “Dodge it is—!”

THWACK!

The snowball hit his chest.

Bertholdt (laughing): “Okay! Fine! Ahem— ♪ ZYX, WVUT— ♪”

Eren (laughing so hard he wheezes): “Why are you vibrating like a haunted washing machine?!”

Round Three: Eren

Bertholdt: “Truth or dare, Snowball Dictator?”

Eren: “Dare. Obviously.”

Petra: “Okay. Go up to that couple over there and tell them you believe in elves and ask if you can be their Christmas child.”

Eren: “Petra. You’re a menace.”

Bertholdt: “Do it.”

He did it.

They watched him dramatically bow to a confused older couple and give a long monologue about believing in elf-kind. The couple gave him a candy cane out of pity.

Eren (returning): “I have ascended. I’m officially the chosen elf.”

Petra: “You’re officially banned from public areas.”

As they caught their breath from laughing, the conversation slowly shifted as they sipped hot cocoa and let the cold air cool their flushed cheeks.

Bertholdt (looking at the fire): “So… what’s everyone’s New Year goal?”

Petra (thoughtful): “Stay out of the hospital.”

Eren: “Try not to set things on fire by accident.”

Bertholdt: “Finish my internship… without crying.”

Eren (teasing): “So basically, we’re all aiming for survival.”

Petra (grinning): “And dignity. Maybe.”

Then Eren narrowed his eyes at Petra.

Eren: “Speaking of survival… how’s the famous Captain Levi?”

Petra (instantly flustered): “No. No. We’re not doing this.”

Bertholdt (joining in with a smirk): “Come on, just tell us. Do you looooooove him?”

Petra (grabbing a glove to throw): “I will suffocate you both with snow if you keep going.”

Eren: “He saved you, got all broody and mysterious— it’s like a romance novel in real life.”

Bertholdt: “Is he your dark knight? Your grumpy savior?”

Petra (choking on laughter and rage): “I swear to God—”

Eren (gasps dramatically): “She’s BLUSHING. CONFIRMATION!”

Petra (grabbing more snow): “You’re both DEAD—”

A second snow war broke out right there in the plaza. This time, it was personal. Petra went feral, chasing Eren down the path with two snowballs the size of her head while Bertholdt tripped over a bench trying to flee.

Petra (shouting mid-chase): “I DO NOT LOVE HIM AND EVEN IF I DID YOU’D BE THE LAST TO KNOW!”

Eren (cackling as he runs): “THAT SOUNDS LIKE A YES!!!”

Bertholdt (yelling from behind a tree): “SHE WANTS TO MARRY THE CAPTAIN!!”

Petra: “I HATE YOU. I’M TAKING YOU BOTH OFF MY FRIEND LIST.”

They finally collapsed in a breathless, laughing pile by the fire again. Faces flushed, snow in their hair, hearts full.
The group stood outside Granny Lise’s apartment, her porch light glowing softly. Petra held her elbow gently — she still ached a little from earlier falls, but the pain was dulled by how much her face hurt from smiling.

Granny (stretching her arms): “Well, that was the most fun I’ve had in decades. I may not survive another snowball war, but I’ll die proud.”

Bertholdt (grinning): “You were a menace out there.”

Granny (smirking): “Years of experience, dear. I once knocked out a man with a frozen tomato in ’76.”

Eren (shaking his head): “We need a movie about you.”

Petra (softly): “Thanks for today, Granny. I… really needed it.”

Granny walked over and patted her cheek gently.

Granny: “You needed laughter, not silence. Don’t forget to breathe, alright?”

Petra nodded, blinking quickly.

Granny: “Now get outta here before I start making hot tea and force you all to stay the night.”

Eren: “Tempting.”

Granny: “OUT.”

They all laughed and waved as Granny went inside, still muttering something about her victorious snowball record.

Eren’s motorbike roared to life. It wasn’t exactly made for three people, but they made it work: Eren driving, Bertholdt squished in the middle, and Petra gripping the back, helmet slightly too big.

Petra: “This feels illegal.”

Bertholdt: “It is illegal.”

Eren: “Then we’re festive fugitives.”

They zoomed down the quiet street, wind whipping past them, Petra’s laughter caught in the air.

Bertholdt (yelling over the wind): “We’ll be back here tomorrow morning, alright? Noon!”

Eren: “Then we head back to Eastern Maria.

Petra: “Mikasa’s waiting for you, right?”

Eren (grinning): “Yeah. She made those weird cookies that taste like guilt and cinnamon. If I’m late, I’m dead.”

Bertholdt: “My parents are doing the full Christmas thing. Matching sweaters. Karaoke. Pray for me.”

Petra: “You both are in trouble.”

Eren: “And you? What’s your plan after we leave?”

Petra (pausing): “...Rest. Clean. Avoid slipping on dorm tiles.”

Bertholdt: “Avoid Levi too?”

Petra (groaning): “I’M JUMPING OFF THIS BIKE.”

Eren: “YOU LOVE HIM, JUST SAY IT!”

Petra (yelling): “I WILL SHOVE A SNOWBALL DOWN YOUR HELMET AGAIN!”

The bike swerved slightly as they all burst into laughter, voices carrying into the winter night.

~ Outside Petra’s Dorm

They pulled up in front of her building, and Petra climbed off, stretching her stiff legs.

Petra (smiling softly): “Thanks, you two. Really.”
Bertholdt: “Anytime. Don’t cry alone again, okay?”
Petra: “No promises. But… I’ll text you before I do.”
Eren: “That’s growth.”
They watched her walk to the door, waving as she turned and smiled one last time before disappearing inside.
As the bike rolled away, their laughter faded into the night — and for the first time in a while, Petra felt a little less alone.

~ Christmas Morning – Petra’s Dorm Room

Snowflakes gently floated outside the window. The world was quiet, coated in white, and Petra stirred slowly from sleep. Her body still ached a bit, but the warmth of her blanket and the stillness of Christmas morning brought her a sense of calm she hadn’t felt in a while.She reached for her phone.
No notifications. But one reminder lingered in her head.

Levi’s birthday.

She hesitated for a long moment, thumb hovering over the keyboard.He hadn’t responded since the night he shouted at her.
But still… she remembered what Hange said weeks ago.

> “He turns 33 on Christmas Day. Don’t tell him I told you. He hates birthdays.”

Petra took a deep breath and typed softly.
> Petra (text):
Happy Birthday. I hope you're safe today. Merry Christmas, too.
She stared at the screen for a few seconds.

No “typing…”No dots.

She sighed and locked her phone.

~Outside Petra’s Dorm – Late Morning

Petra stepped out onto the snowy street, wrapped in a cream scarf and oversized beige coat. As soon as she turned the corner—
Eren (yelling from across the road): “SHE LIVES!”
Bertholdt (grinning): “Merry Christmas to the queen of clumsiness!”
Petra (laughing): “I’m going to trip on my way over just to make your holiday perfect.”
As she walked toward them, she did slip on a patch of snow, catching herself on a lamp post.
Eren (clutching his stomach): “SHE DID IT. SHE FELL INTO THE PROPHECY.”
Petra (deadpan): “I hate this friendship.”

Throughout the Day – Christmas Chaos

They walked through town with little Santa hats Eren insisted on buying from a street vendor.Bertholdt kept adjusting his because it made his ears itch.
Petra’s hat kept slipping over her eyes.
Eren wore his sideways like a menace.They exchanged silly gifts at a bench:
Eren gave Petra a “License to Fall” certificate with fake gold trim.
Petra gave Bertholdt a blanket with the words “Emotionally Fragile, Handle With Snacks.”
Bertholdt gifted Eren a “World’s Loudest Elf” mug, which Eren immediately drank cocoa from and spilled on himself
They visited the small community center, decorated with twinkling lights, where a few kids were performing a Nativity play.
Petra cried laughing when one kid shouted “This baby is COLD!” during the manger scene.
They played charades. Eren acted out a chicken on fire. Bertholdt tried to mime “gingerbread house” but looked like he was choking on imaginary candy. Petra was crying laughing so hard she couldn’t guess anything.
They ate sweet bread from a bakery nearby and fed pigeons in the park, naming them:

Petra: “That one’s Floof Jr.”
Eren: “That one's Steve.”
Bertholdt: “That one looks like Levi.”
Petra (choking): “HOW??”
Bertholdt: “He looks cold and ready to stab someone.”

~Noon

The boys’ train was scheduled to leave shortly after noon.
They walked back to Petra’s dorm to drop her off before heading to the station.
And they returned the rented motorbike to shop also.
The jokes had slowed now. The air felt quieter.
Bertholdt (softly): “This was the best day I’ve had in months.”

They hugged her one by one.

Bertholdt gave her a soft smile and said, “Take care of yourself.”

Eren ruffled her hair like a kid. “Don’t go breaking anything while we’re gone.”

Petra (grinning): “I’ll only break your necks when you come back.”

But when they walked away down the road…

Something tightened in her chest.

~Petra’s Dorm

She closed the door softly behind her, the room feeling too still.

No laughter. No chaos. No Eren yelling. No Bertholdt’s soft voice.

She stood there for a long moment. Then sat on the bed,curled up in her coat, and cried — quietly.

Not the kind of cry that needed comfort.

The kind of cry that comes from a full heart… and a quietly breaking one.

She missed them already.And maybe, just maybe…

She was missing someone else, too.

Her phone buzzed on the table.She wiped her eyes, picked it up.

No new message from Levi.
Just stillness.

Meanwhile~Christmas Morning – Hange & Moblit’s Apartment

Moblit opened the door with a look of exhaustion despite it only being 9 AM.
Moblit (dead inside): “You’re the last one. Help me survive.”
Levi (stepping in with a scowl): “This is blackmail.”

Inside, the apartment looked like it exploded in Christmas. Tinsel dangled from everything. The tree leaned slightly sideways. A gingerbread titan stood in the corner with a knife stabbed into it (Hange’s design). A banner overhead read:

> “Merry Christmas & Unfortunately, Levi’s Birthday!”

Levi (glaring): “What. Is. That.”

Hange (wearing two different socks and a lab coat): “It’s festive!”

Levi: “It’s disgusting.”

Everyone was there: Erwin, calm as ever, sipping coffee. Mike, already on his second plate of cinnamon buns. Mike’s wife, cheerful. Nile, grumpy but present.

Levi tried to sit silently in a corner. It didn’t work.

Hange (shoving a box in his lap): “Too late. You exist, therefore we gift.”

Levi: “I told you I hate birthdays.”

Erwin (calmly): “We know. That’s why we started without asking.”

Moblit (apologetic): “Sorry, Captain. Hange wrapped yours in frog paper.”

Levi (opening it slowly): “…Why is this a toothbrush with a tactical grip?”

Hange: “So you can brush your teeth and intimidate people!”

Mike’s gift was a expensive tea set

Mike (nodding): “For anger management.”

Levi: “good."

Nile (tossing something onto Levi’s lap): “Didn’t wrap it. It’s socks. Now shut up.”

Levi (dryly): “Touching.”

Moblit gave him a sleek pocket-sized hygiene kit.
Mike’s wife gave him a neutral-tone scarf.
Erwin handed him a small leather-bound notebook.

Erwin: “To write down every complaint you never say.”

Levi: “I’d need fifty.”

Midday – Chaos in the Kitchen

Moblit tried to cook.

Hange insisted on helping.Moblit (horrified): “What is this?”

Hange (holding a tray): “Turkey glazed with coffee and Tabasco.”

Levi (dry): “Throw it out. Throw yourself out with it.”

Meanwhile, Mike added chili flakes to mashed potatoes.Nile almost walked out after trying it.

Erwin was the only one cooking normally — a simple roast and vegetables.

Erwin (calmly): “Every year I feed all of you. Every year you sabotage yourselves.”

They finally sat around the table. Hange made them all wear paper crowns from crackers. Even Levi. After glaring for ten minutes,
The conversation was loud, full of arguments about whose side dish was worst, who snored the loudest, and whether or not Nile cried at holiday movies (he did).
Levi sat back, arms crossed, half-listening.
Evening – Quiet Moments

After the food was cleared, and the sky outside turned orange and blue, things began to calm. Hange fell asleep on the couch with a paper crown covering their face. Moblit sat next to Levi with a plate of leftover cake.
Levi took this phone and saw a message from petra
> “Happy Birthday. I hope you're safe today. Merry Christmas, too.”

He stared for a while.Didn’t reply.Didn’t delete it, either. Moblit (watching him): “You okay?”

Levi: “No.”

Moblit (nodding): “Good. Means you’re still alive.”

By the time he left the apartment that night, scarf wrapped around his neck, hands stuffed into his coat pockets, Levi muttered:

Levi (low): “I hate birthdays.”

But he walked a little slower than usual. And the gift bag he said he’d throw away was still in his hand.

---
Night After Christmas – Petra’s Dorm Room

The entire city was drowning in snow.

Thick, white layers piled up over rooftops, parked cars, benches, even tree branches. The streets had fallen silent — no tires rolling, no laughter, no chatter. Just the slow, relentless whisper of snow falling against windows.
Petra sat curled up in a blanket beside her dorm window, a steaming mug of tea between her palms, watching the flakes blur the world into white.
She hadn’t heard from Levi. Not even a "read" notification.
And that hurt more than she expected.

The dorm felt too quiet.
Historia hadn’t come back yet from her trip home — she got stuck because of the weather warnings. Sasha and the others were with their families. The hallways were silent except for the occasional distant sound of radiators humming and snow rattling softly against the glass.

Petra sighed and pulled the blanket tighter around her shoulders.
The fairy lights she’d strung across the top of her shelf still glowed gently, casting a warm yellow light over the walls.
Her laundry basket was full again.The tea had gone lukewarm.Her phone hadn’t buzzed all day.She reached for it anyway.
Unlocked the screen.No new messages.

She opened her text with Levi, rereading the simple message she’d sent him yesterday:

> “Happy Birthday. I hope you're safe today. Merry Christmas, too.”

No reply.
She stared for a moment longer… then locked the screen again and dropped the phone onto the pillow beside her.
She knew he didn’t owe her anything.
She knew what kind of man he was — closed off, angry, never expressive
Even if it was just one of his short, dry messages like:
> “Alive.”
“Don’t text dumb things.”
“Tch.”

Anything would’ve been better than this silence.
She sighed deeply and rested her head on her knees, eyes flicking back toward the snow-covered window.
The streetlights outside cast a pale orange hue across the drifts of snow. They looked soft and untouched, like they’d never melt.
She whispered, mostly to herself:
“I miss everyone…”She didn’t mean just Eren or Bertholdt.

For a while, she just sat there in silence, hugging her knees, watching the snow.
No plans. No visitors.Just the sound of her breath and the endless winter pressing in outside.And somewhere under all that stillness…
Was the quiet ache of hope she didn’t know how to let go of.

It was New Year’s Eve.

The time on Petra’s phone glowed faintly in the dark: 11:02 PM. Outside, the world shimmered with snow and echoed with the distant pop of early fireworks. Laughter floated faintly through the cold night air from somewhere down the road.

But inside her dorm room, Petra lay curled under her blanket, the soft hum of her heater the only sound.
Her phone buzzed on the desk.At first, she didn’t move. But it kept ringing.

She finally reached out and squinted at the screen.

Hange Calling.
With a soft sigh, she answered.

Petra (sleepily): “Hello…?”

Hange (bright and cheerful): “Petra! Get up, get dressed—we’ll be there in ten minutes!”

Petra (blinking): “Hange-san…? For what?”

Hange: “A New Year’s celebration, obviously! What else do people do at midnight on the last night of the year?”

Petra: “Hange-san… I’m not coming.”

Hange (mock gasp): “What?! Why not?!”

Petra (softly): “I’m just… not in the mood. I think I’ll stay in tonight.”

For a moment, there was quiet on the other end. Then Hange’s tone turned warm and sincere.

Hange: “I get it. Really. But you don’t have to dress up or smile for anyone. Just come be around people who care about you. Sometimes, that’s all we need.”

Petra stared at the ceiling, her throat tightening a little.

Hange: “We’ll keep it simple. Hot drinks, a warm fire, quiet music, maybe even silly games. You don’t even have to talk much if you don’t feel like it. But I promise, it’ll feel better than sitting alone in a cold room.”

Petra hesitated, then murmured:

Petra: “...Are you sure it’s okay?”

Hange (gently teasing): “Of course it’s okay. I already claimed your mug of hot chocolate. If you don’t come, I’ll be stuck drinking two.”

A small, tired smile appeared on Petra’s lips.

Petra: “You’d probably enjoy that.”

Hange (grinning): “I would. But I’d enjoy seeing you more.”

Petra looked out the window. The snow was still falling softly, lights glowing behind frosted glass.

She sat up and pulled the blanket off her shoulders.

Petra (quietly): “Okay… I’ll come.”

Hange: “That’s my girl! See you in ten minutes!”

The call ended.

Petra moved slowly, reaching for a sweater and a scarf. She wasn’t sure if she’d talk much. Or laugh. Or even stay long.

But something told her she needed this.

Just a little warmth.Just a little light to end the year.

Just as Petra zipped up her coat, a familiar vehicle pulled up outside her dorm. It was Moblit, waving from the front seat with his usual warm smile.

She stepped in quietly, snowflakes clinging to her coat and lashes. The ride was mostly silent except for soft music playing on the radio, the city around them glowing in white and gold.

When they reached the apartment, warmth greeted her instantly—not just from the heaters, but from the scent of food and the low hum of familiar voices.

The smell of roasted vegetables, spiced stew, and fresh bread filled the space. Laughter bubbled from the kitchen. Plates clinked. Someone had lit candles on the table, their glow softening every corner.

Everyone was gathered there.

Hange was laughing loudly at something Moblit whispered, her hand casually intertwined with his. Mike stood beside his wife, her baby bump visible under her knitted sweater, his hand resting protectively over it.

Even Levi was there—calm, unreadable as always—sitting quietly at the edge of the table, chewing slowly, his expression unreadable. Petra’s gaze flicked to him and then quickly away.

She stayed mostly quiet during dinner, answering when spoken to, offering a smile here and there. But the comfort of the group warmed her more than any food could. For a little while, it felt like all the heavy thoughts could be set down.

After dinner, they all climbed the stairs to the rooftop.

The sky was vast and heavy with snowclouds, the city glowing beneath them like a frozen sea of lights.

Everyone spread out along the railing.

Hange and Moblit stood side by side, hands linked. Mike kissed his wife’s forehead and gently rested his palm over her belly as she leaned against him.

Erwin stood alone near the far edge, his eyes fixed on the stars with that quiet gravity he always carried.

Petra moved slowly to the railing, her hands pressed against the cold metal. The snowy city stretched endlessly in front of her, rooftops dusted white, lights twinkling like distant fireflies.

A presence beside her made her breath catch.

Levi.

He stood quietly, his hands in his coat pockets, gazing toward the skyline. His face was still, but not cold. More like… lost in thought.

Petra hesitated. The memory of the last time they spoke still lingered. That call. The silence. The distance that followed.

But she knew she couldn’t carry that into the new year.

She took a step closer, her voice barely above a whisper.

Petra: “I… I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were on a mission that day.”

Levi’s eyes didn’t shift from the horizon, but he answered after a moment. His voice was low, even.

Levi: “That day... I didn’t mean those words. Okey?”

Petra blinked, her heart giving a small, unexpected thud.

She looked at him, stunned—not because of the apology itself, but because he said it. Because for someone like Levi, that was louder than anything else.

For a second, she didn’t know what to say.

Then she smiled softly, the kind of smile that holds both forgiveness and quiet understanding.

Petra (gently): “Okey.”

They stood in silence for a while after that. Not awkward. Just still.

Then the countdown began.

The city dimmed—buildings turned off their lights one by one. All eyes turned toward the skyline.

10... 9... 8...

Everyone leaned against the railing, breath fogging in the cold air.

5... 4... 3...

Petra stood close beside Levi, the distance between them gone.

2... 1...

As the clock struck midnight, the sky exploded into color.

Fireworks soared from every part of the city—bursts of red, silver, gold, and blue reflecting on the snowy rooftops. The air filled with cheers, voices calling out:

“Happy New Year!”

Petra’s breath caught. Her hand, almost on instinct, reached out. She gently hooked her pinky finger around Levi’s.

He glanced down at it.

But he didn’t pull away.

For Petra, that simple touch—quiet, warm, unspoken—meant more than any words could.

And as the fireworks lit up the night, painting the world in color, she realized:

Sometimes beginnings aren’t loud.

Sometimes, they’re just a single pinky held gently in the cold.

And that was enough.
They stayed like that.

Pinky fingers gently linked, standing side by side under the exploding sky, as color rained down over the city and the cold air carried the sound of distant cheers.

Petra didn’t speak. She didn’t need to.

The warmth from that simple touch traveled deeper than she expected. Not through her hand—but through her chest, her ribs, her heart.

She looked at him.

Levi was still staring at the sky, face calm, unreadable. The lights reflected in his gray eyes, softening the edges of his usually guarded expression. He wasn’t smiling. He rarely did. But he wasn’t frowning either. He was simply… there.

And somehow, that was enough.

In that moment, Petra realized something she couldn’t unfeel:

She didn’t just like him.

She loved him.

Not the kind of love that demands answers or makes promises. Not the kind that needs to be returned just to exist. But a quiet, steadfast kind—gentle and certain, even if it hurt sometimes.

Even if he never looked at her the same way.

Even if he stayed distant, closed-off, or harsh with his words.

Even then… she would love him.

Because what she felt for him wasn't built on sweet moments or perfect smiles. It was built on truth. On who he was, entirely. His silence, his strength. His honesty, even when it stung.

She glanced down at their linked pinkies and smiled softly—not because he was hers, but because she got to stand beside him like this at all.

He didn’t need to say anything.

Petra looked up at the sky again, eyes glistening as fireworks bloomed above them like flowers in fast motion.

In the middle of all that noise, she felt strangely calm.

Even if he never felt the same.

Even if this moment faded like the smoke in the air.

Her heart had already chosen him.

And that… was enough for her.

Chapter Text

It was already 1 a.m. The apartment was quiet. Hange and Moblit were passed out on the couch, tangled in a throw blanket, half-empty wine glasses on the table beside them. The soft hum of the heater and distant city sounds were the only noises left after the New Year celebration had finally faded.
Petra stood by the door, adjusting her scarf. She didn’t want to leave — Hange had asked her to stay the night. But she had to go. Her classes were starting soon, and she had too many things to prepare before the new term kicked off.
Before leaving, Mike had given her his number on a folded piece of paper.

“She’s staying behind,” he’d said quietly, glancing at his pregnant wife. “She won’t say it, but she’ll need someone to check in. You’re good with her… she likes you.”
“I’ll take care of her,” Petra had promised. And she meant it.
Now, Levi stood near the door, slipping on his gloves and already holding her helmet.
“I’ll drop you,” he said flatly.
Petra blinked. “Are you sure? I can—”
He shot her a look. That was enough. She didn’t argue again.
The street outside was chilled and silent. His motorbike gleamed under a flickering streetlamp. He handed her the helmet without a word.

She took it, smiling faintly. “Thanks.”

They got on, and soon the engine purred to life. She wrapped her arms gently around him and leaned forward, resting against his back as the city passed by in soft blurs.
They rode in silence.
A group of late-night strangers walked by, shouting, “Happy New Year!” as they passed.
Petra waved a little. “Happy New Year!”
Levi didn’t respond. Just made a quiet “tch” and kept going.
Petra smiled lightly, but inside her chest felt tight.

After a long pause, she spoke.

“You’re leaving today?”

“Yeah,” he replied, not turning his head. “Eastern Maria. Headquarters.”

She sighed. “It feels like you just got here. Everything’s going back to normal already.”

They turned onto her street. The building loomed ahead, her dorm windows faintly glowing.

Before Levi could cut the engine, Petra leaned a bit closer and said softly, “I’ll miss all of you. But… I’ll miss you most.”

Levi didn’t say anything at first. He parked the bike slowly, engine cutting off with a hum.

She stepped off, removing the helmet, her eyes lingering on him as she handed it back.

He took it, but this time, he didn’t turn away.

“Don’t forget to check in on Mike’s wife,” he said. “She won’t ask, even if she’s struggling.”
“I know,” Petra nodded. “He said the same. I’ll look after her when I can.”
Levi looked at her for a long second. Then his voice dropped, quieter, a little rougher.
“You… need anything,” he said, “you call Hange.”

Petra tilted her head slightly. “Hange san?”

He looked away. “Or me.”

She blinked. Her heart squeezed.

“You mean that?”

He gave a slow nod. “Yeah. I do.”

She smiled gently. “Okay.”

There was a long pause. Neither of them moved.

Finally, Petra looked down. “I really am going to miss you.”
Levi let out a faint sigh. “Don’t.”

She looked up, surprised.

She stepped back slowly, looking at him one last time. “Levi san?”

“Hm?”

“…Happy New Year.”

There was a beat of silence.

Then, his voice low, almost too soft for her to hear:

“Happy New Year, Petra.”

She watched as he strapped the helmet back on, revved the engine, and pulled away into the night.

This time, she stood a little longer at the gate — not because she was waiting, but because she didn’t want the warmth he left behind to fade just yet.

~

Two weeks had passed since New Year’s Eve.Petra hadn’t called Levi again.
She told herself it was because he was busy. But truthfully… she was busy too. Her third semester had started, and life had swept her up like a wave—lectures, long hours at the convenience store, helping Mike’s wife with the pregnancy appointments, catching up on assignments late into the night.
But one evening, as she walked home beneath a gray sky, it began to rain—a soft, cold drizzle that smelled like wet earth and memory. She didn’t have an umbrella.Raindrops clung to her coat and hair, the streetlights blurry through the mistShe stopped under a rusted shelter near the store, blinking away the cold.

And for some reason… she thought of him.Levi.She missed him.

Not in the dramatic, aching way love is written in poems. But in the quiet, honest way one misses someone they trust—someone whose silence still meant safety.Without thinking too hard, she reached for her phone and called him.
---

Meanwhile…

Levi was in the dining hall at headquarters. It was one of the rare evenings when no reports or emergencies pulled him away. He was eating in silence, the soft hum of conversation around him. Hange sat across the room with Moblit, quietly chatting. Erwin was reviewing papers.

His phone buzzed in his coat pocket.He pulled it out. Petra.
He stared at the screen a second too long before answering.

Levi (flatly): “Tch. It's late. What's wrong?”

There was a short pause on the other end. Then her voice came through—soft, hesitant.
Petra: “Hi… nothing’s wrong. I just… wanted to talk. If that’s okay.”

He leaned back in his seat, keeping his voice low.

Levi: “You don’t usually call without a reason.”

Petra (quietly): “I know. I just… I don’t know. It’s raining here. And I guess I was thinking about you.”

Levi didn’t respond right away. He simply listened.

Petra (a little embarrassed): “I’m sorry. You’re probably busy. I can hang up if—”

Levi (cutting in): “I picked up. Talk.”

His tone was blunt. But not cruel.

She took a breath.

Petra: “It’s been a little heavy lately. Classes are hard. The store’s busy. Mike’s wife is in her last trimester now, and I’ve been helping her when I can. I’ve barely had time to sleep.”
A pause.

Petra: “But I think… what really hit me was today. When the rain started.”

He listened to the faint sound of rain through her speaker. A strange pressure settled in his chest.
Petra: “Rain always reminds me of home. My parents. My dad used to stand on the porch when it rained—he said it helped him think. And my mom always made sweet tea on rainy days.”

Her voice grew quieter. Warmer. Sadder.
Petra: “I miss them a lot lately. I don’t know why it’s hitting so hard today. Maybe I just feel… far from everything.”
Levi stayed quiet, his hand resting near the half-eaten plate.
Petra: “Sometimes I pretend I’m still small enough to crawl under their blanket. That if I close my eyes long enough, I’ll smell the tea and feel my mom’s hand on my hair.”

She gave a tiny laugh.

Petra: “Sorry. That’s probably too much. I’m just… really tired tonight.”

Levi shifted slightly. The silence between them stretched—but it wasn’t empty. It was filled with things he didn’t know how to say.
When he finally spoke, his tone was colder than he intended—but firm.

Levi: “Don’t let yourself fall apart.”

She blinked at the reply, unsure how to take it.

Petra: “I’m not… I’m just feeling a little small tonight, that’s all.”

Levi (flatly): “Then stand up. Go dry your hair. Eat something warm. Sleep.”

Petra (soft smile in her voice): “You always say that like it’s an order.”

Levi: “Maybe it is.”

She looked at the sky above her. The rain had thinned now to a drizzle.

Petra (whispering): “Even when you’re cold to me… I still feel less alone when I hear your voice.”

Levi stared out the window of the hall, the sky there cloudy too.

He didn’t answer that.

But he didn’t hang up either.

They sat in the silence for a while, connected by nothing more than the hum of rain and quiet breathing.

And somehow, for Petra, that was enough.

---The next morning.

The rain hadn’t stopped. It fell steadily from the gray sky, cloaking the world in a strange kind of stillness. Though it was only 8 AM, it looked more like early evening, the sky thick with clouds, the air heavy with silence.
Classes were canceled. She had the day off from the convenience store too.
Petra had woken early anyway. Something in her chest wouldn’t let her rest.
After making tea and half-heartedly opening her laptop, she stared at the screen but typed nothing.
The rain reminded her of the night before. Of her parents. Of him.
She hesitated. Then, with a nervous breath, she called Levi again.
--
Levi picked up after a pause.

His voice was tired. Tense.

Levi: “What is it now, Petra?”

Her heart tightened a little at his tone.

Petra: “Nothing urgent. I just… wanted to talk. If that’s okay.”

A beat of silence followed.

Levi (sharply): “Why? Didn’t we do this last night?”

Petra (softly): “I know. I just couldn’t sleep much. The rain’s still falling. Everything feels so heavy lately.”

He didn’t answer.She continued, slowly.

Petra: “Sometimes I wonder if maybe I reach for people because I’m afraid of losing what I care about. I guess that’s why I’m calling again.”

Levi (curt): “Don’t. Don’t start saying things like that.”

Petra (gentle, trying to be brave): “Why not?”

Levi: “Because you don’t understand what you’re doing.”

Her voice wavered.

Petra: “Then help me understand.”

A pause. Then his voice came low, sharp, angry—but under it, something like desperation.

Levi: “You’re a college student. You have a future. A clean life. You live in dorms, go to classes, laugh with your friends. You have dreams, Petra.”

She stayed quiet, listening.

Levi: “And I’m a soldier. My life is blood and war and orders. I don’t get to wake up late and sip tea and walk under trees. I don’t get to love anyone. Not really. And I sure as hell don’t get to be someone's soft place to fall.”

Petra: “I never asked you to be perfect, Levi san .”

Levi (cutting): “You should.”

She blinked, her throat tightening.

Levi (quiet, bitter): “We’re twelve years apart. I’ve seen things that would break your hands if you tried to carry them. I’ve lost more people than you’ve met. You’re… you’re not meant for this. For someone like me.”

Petra (softly): “Maybe I’m not. But that doesn’t stop what I feel.”

Levi: “You shouldn’t feel anything for me.”

Petra: “But I do.”

There was a long silence. Only the rain in the background.

Petra: “Even when you’re harsh. Even when you push me away. I still… care about you. I don’t know if that’s love, Levi san .But I know it’s real.”

Levi (angrily now): “Don’t do that to yourself. Don’t waste that kind of heart on me.”

Petra: “Why is it a waste?”

Levi: “Because I won’t give you what you’re looking for!”

His voice echoed, more forceful than before.

But Petra didn’t flinch.

She just sat there, gripping her phone tighter.

Petra (firm, steady): “I’m not asking for anything back. I’m just being honest. That’s all.”

Levi didn’t respond. She could hear his breathing—tight, strained.

Petra (quietly): “You don’t have to love me, Levisan. You don’t even have to like me. But I want you to know that what I feel for you… doesn’t depend on what you give me.”

Levi (muttering): “That’s foolish.”

Petra (gently smiling through tears): “Maybe. But I’d rather love foolishly than live empty.”

He didn’t speak for a long time.

When he did, his voice was low, almost broken.

Levi: “You’ll regret this.”

Petra: “Maybe. But not today.”

He exhaled sharply, then finally said:

Levi: “Stop calling me every time it rains.”

Petra (soft laugh): “I can’t promise that.”

Another pause.

He didn’t hang up.

Neither did she.

The line remained open for a while—two people, breathing in the silence, the rain falling between them like a curtain they both stood behind.
Even with all his anger.Even with all her softness.They stayed thereNot together.
But not apart either.After the call ended, Petra sat in silence.
The soft sound of the rain against her window filled the room, but inside, everything felt still—like something had fallen silent inside her too.
She didn’t cry.Not immediately.
She just stared at her phone, the last call still on the screen.
Levi Ackerman — 23 minutes, 18 seconds.

Twenty-three minutes. That’s all it took to remind her of everything she already knew but never wanted to believe.

He wasn’t going to love her.
No matter how many times he protected her.
No matter how gently he sometimes looked at her when he thought she wasn’t watching.
No matter how tightly he gripped her hand when he thought she might slip.

Those were moments. Kind ones. Quiet ones.But Levi always made sure there was a line.

And Petra… had already crossed it.

She had crossed it the moment she let her heart attach itself to someone who had never promised anything in return.
She curled her legs to her chest, resting her chin on her knees, and whispered to the empty room.
“I know you won’t choose me. I know you think it’s better this way.”
Her eyes welled up. She blinked slowly.“But I already chose you.”
A part of her wanted to be angry. To resent him for being so cold, for making her feel foolish for something so tender. But she couldn’t.
Because even in his coldness, there was care.
Even in his rejection, there was something that looked like protection.
She understood it.She just wished it didn’t hurt so much.
Petra leaned her head against the window. Rain traced lines down the glass like quiet tears. Her own didn’t fall—not yet.

She didn’t want pity. She didn’t want to force anything.But she still hoped.

Not for a fairytale.Not for him to wake up tomorrow and fall into her arms.

Just… for the chance.

The chance that someday, he might see her not as a mistake, but as someone who loved him with no conditions.

Even if that day never came.She would still carry that love.

Quietly. Steadily. With a smile that hurt just a little when no one was watching

~.

The next few days passed like a flash of light.

The world around Petra kept spinning—assignments, campus noise, the scent of early spring creeping between rainstorms. Laughter echoed in the dorm hallways. Friends rushed past her with books and bags and stories to share.

But inside, Petra moved slowly.

Not physically—she did what she had to. She showed up for her shifts. She studied late into the night. She helped Mike’s wife with her doctor appointments, offered a smile, gave warm hugs.But something in her had gone quiet.
She didn’t call Levi again.
She didn’t message.
She didn’t even dare look at her call history, where his name still sat at the top.
Whenever she thought about him, her chest tightened—not with regret, but with that aching kind of sadness that comes from finally understanding someone… and knowing they’ll never be yours.
She avoided the places she might run into him.She didn’t have the courage to face him. Not yet.
Not after that call.Not after the way his words left marks she didn’t know how to hide.

She told herself it was fine.
That he’d made himself clear. That she would be okay.

And yet, sometimes when she stood by the windows during closing shifts at the store, watching people walk past in the rain, she wondered if Levi had ever thought of her again—even once—after that conversation.

And even though she told herself not to hope…

A small part of her still did.

Quietly. Patiently.

Like the first flower that grows in cold soil—knowing it might not bloom, but pushing upward anyway.
The rain was falling again.

The sky was dark for the middle of the day, the clouds thick and silver. Petra sat by the window in the campus library, her fingers curled around a warm paper cup of coffee she hadn’t touched. The soft pattering of rain against glass filled the space around her, but her mind was somewhere else.

Her eyes were red. She hadn’t meant to cry.

She didn’t even know why she was crying. Maybe it was the pressure from school. Maybe it was the aching weight of Levi’s words still echoing in her chest. Maybe it was just the rain making the past feel too close.

Still… somehow, the memories made her smile.

That night on the rooftop.
The gruff way he made her drink hot tea when she was sick.
The cheek kiss.

All of it… mattered to her.
She wiped her cheeks quickly and, without thinking, pulled out her phone.
She didn’t want to confess again.
She just wanted to hear his voice.

---

Levi was sitting in the dining area, surrounded by Hange, Moblit, Mike, and Erwin. It was a rare quiet moment between operations. Someone had made soup. They were eating in near-silence, the rain audible through the windows.

His phone buzzed.

He checked the screen and froze.

Petra.

Again.

He clenched his jaw. The others barely glanced up. Levi got up, walked toward the far end of the room, and picked up the call.

Levi (sharp): “What do you want?”

Petra (softly): “I… I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have called again. I just wanted to talk. Just a normal conversation, Levi san I promise.”

Levi (raising his voice): “Then why the hell do you keep calling me when I told you not to?”

Petra: “I didn’t mean to bother you. I just—”

Levi (cutting in, louder): “Do you not understand? I already told you not to expect anything from me! I don’t want this! I don’t want you calling every time it rains, or when you feel lonely, or when your life feels hard!”

At the table, Hange’s eyes lifted sharply. Moblit frowned.

Petra (voice breaking): “I’m not expecting anything, Levi… sam I just missed—”

Levi (furious): “You missed what, huh?! Me ignoring you? Me not loving you back? Stop doing this to yourself. Stop calling me. I don’t want to be part of this sentimental nonsense!”

Petra didn’t say anything.But her silence was louder than any words.

Her breath hitched softly on the other end before the call cut out.

Levi let the phone fall to his side.

Then—

Hange stood up. Hard. Her chair scraped loudly.

Hange (furious): “What the hell was that, Levi?”He turned slowly, still fuming.

Levi (coldly): “I told her to stop. She doesn’t listen.”

Hange (approaching): “That wasn’t telling. That was screaming. That was cruel.”

Levi said nothing.

Hange (voice rising): “You don’t get to yell at her like she’s some soldier who disobeyed orders. She’s a college girl. She’s kind. She’s never disrespected you. All she’s done is care about you—and you treat her like she’s done something wrong for loving you?”

Levi (gritting his teeth): “She’s setting herself up for pain. I’m trying to stop that.”

Hange (pointing at him): “No. What you’re doing is punishing her for loving you because you hate that you feel something back.”

Levi’s jaw twitched.

Hange: “You think you’re doing her a favor by pushing her away? You’re not. You’re just being cowardly. You’re so damn afraid of what it might mean to let someone get close, you destroy them before they have the chance to stay.”

Levi (sharply): “She’s twenty-one, Hange. I’m thirty-three. She has dreams. A whole future ahead of her. She doesn’t need someone like me dragging her down.”

Hange (quiet but furious): “You think she doesn’t know that? You think she doesn’t know how old you are, what your life looks like, what your job is? And still… she calls. And still… she shows up.”

Levi looked away, his fists clenched.

Hange (softer now): “Do you really think she’s weak, Levi?”

Levi: “No.”

Hange: “Then stop treating her like she is.”

A pause.

Hange: “You’re not evil. You’re just scared. And I get that. But Petra isn’t asking you for forever. She’s not asking you to change. She’s just asking you not to rip her apart every time she reaches out.”

Levi exhaled hard, the anger draining slowly from his shoulders.

Hange (firmly): “If you truly don’t care—then be honest and walk away. Cut it off. Cold. But don’t stay in the middle. Don’t pretend like you don’t feel anything, and then leave her carrying all the weight.”

Levi stood still .No response.

Hange turned and walked back toward the table, picking up her soup as if nothing had happened—but her hands were trembling.

Moblit quietly slid her a napkin.

Mike didn’t speak, but his eyes flicked toward Levi with disappointment.

Erwin glanced once, then returned to his page.

And Levi—still holding the phone in his hand—stood there in the middle of the room…

not angry anymore.Just heavy.
Like he’d finally been told something he couldn’t ignore.

The rain was still falling outside.

The dining hall had fallen quiet. Soup bowls had gone cold. No one spoke.

Levi stood frozen, still holding the phone, jaw tight, breath low.

Hange had returned to her seat—but her expression hadn’t softened. She kept glancing at Levi, something stormy in her eyes.

Then suddenly, she stood up again—this time more slowly—and stepped out into the hallway.

She pulled out her phone and called Petra.

---

In the college hallway…

Petra stood in the corner outside her classroom, gripping her phone with trembling hands. Her eyes were red, cheeks damp. She had tried to stop crying, but Levi’s words had hit deeper than anything before.

When her phone rang and she saw Hange’s name, she hesitated.

Then answered.

Petra (brokenly): “Hange-san…”
Hange (gently): “Petra. Are you okay?”
From Levi’s side of the dining room, he couldn’t hear Petra’s voice—only Hange’s.
But as Hange spoke, the look on her face said everything.

Her shoulders sank as she listened. Her expression shifted between heartbreak, guilt, and quiet fury. Her voice dropped lower.

Hange (softly): “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. He had no right to speak to you that way.”
She turned away from the open door, leaning against the cold wall of the hallway.
Levi, though trying not to show it, had his eyes fixed on her now. He couldn’t hear Petra, but he felt her.
Hange kept speaking, calmly and gently.

Hange: “You don’t deserve to be yelled at for caring. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
There was silence, then Hange closed her eyes briefly as if holding back something.
Hange (even softer): “I know it hurts. I know it feels unfair. And I don’t know if he’ll ever say it, but… it’s not your fault he’s broken. It’s not your fault he doesn’t know how to let love in.”
She nodded slowly as Petra spoke—Levi could only imagine the tears, the shaking voice, the apology Petra was probably trying to give even now.
Hange (quietly): “I’m here, Petra. I’ll always be here. Take your time, okay? Go drink some water. Get out of that hallway. You don’t have to carry this alone.”

Another pause. Then a tiny smile flickered on Hange’s face.

Hange: “That’s my girl. Call me later if you need me, alright?”

She ended the call slowly and turned around.

Levi was still watching.Everyone else stayed silent.

---

Hange stepped back into the room, eyes locked on Levi.

He stood up before she said a word.

Levi (sharply): “Don’t look at me like that.”

Hange (flatly): “I’ll look at you however I want.”

Levi: “She needs to stop.”
Hange (cutting): “You need to stop.”

He glared at her, voice low and tense.
Levi: “You don’t understand what happens if I let her believe there’s hope. She’ll ruin herself.”

Hange (angrily): “No, Levi. You’ll ruin her if you keep doing this.”
He stepped closer, his tone rising.

Levi: “She’s a child, Hange! I’ve seen what happens to people who get close to me! I’ve watched people I care about die—and if she sticks around long enough, she’ll be just another goddamn grave.”

Hange (fuming): “She’s not a soldier. She’s not asking for war. She’s just asking to be treated like a human being. You don’t need to destroy her just because you’re afraid.”
Levi (gritted teeth): “She doesn’t belong in my life.”

Hange (pointing at him): “Then don’t accept her hand when she reaches out. Don’t stand on rooftops and let her hold your pinky finger if you plan to burn her for it the next morning.”

Levi flinched. Just slightly.

Hange (voice shaking now): “You let her hope, Levi. You let her feel safe beside you. You let her believe, even for a second, that maybe she mattered to you. And now you’re tearing her apart for believing it.”

He looked away.The room was silent.

Hange (quietly): “You don’t have to love her, Levi. But you don’t have to break her either.”
With that, she turned and left the room.

Moblit sat frozen. Mike stared at the table. Erwin looked thoughtful, but said nothing.And Levi…
…just stood there.Surrounded by people.But more alone than ever.

The dining hall was mostly empty now.

Moblit had quietly excused himself. Mike had left without a word. The soup had gone cold.Only Erwin and Levi remained.

Levi stood near the window, arms crossed, jaw clenched. The sound of steady rain tapped against the glass.
Erwin folded his hands on the table, then looked up at him.

Erwin (quietly):
“You were cruel to her, Levi. Levi didn’t turn around.

Levi:
“She needed to hear it.”
Erwin:
“Did she? Or did you need to say it?”

Levi’s hands curled slightly into fists. His voice was low.
Levi:
“She’s too young. Too soft. She has no idea what it means to care about someone like me.
Erwin (calm):
“Then teach her. With kindness. Not with a sword.”

Levi (sharp):
“She deserves someone who can actually give her something.”
Erwin:
“And you’ve decided that’s not you?”
Levi:
“It isn’t.”

There was a long pause. The rain continued to fall in soft rhythms.
Erwin:
“You always do this. Push people away before they have the chance to leave. But Petra’s not trying to leave. She's trying to stay.”

Levi’s shoulders stiffened.

Levi:
“She’s twenty-one.”

Erwin (quietly):
“And you’re thirty-three. Not sixty. You speak like you're already dead, Levi.”
Levi finally turned, eyes sharp.

Levi:
“I am dead. Or close to it. My life isn't lectures and cafés and textbooks. My life is war. Blood. And dirt. I’ve watched people I care about disappear. I’ve buried more than I remember. What am I supposed to give her?”

Erwin (gently):
“Honesty. Respect. The truth, without the knife.”

Levi looked away again, jaw clenched.

Erwin:
“She doesn’t expect you to be soft. She never did. But she saw something in you worth caring about. And you let her believe it was safe.”

Levi (quietly):
“I didn’t mean to.”

Erwin:
“You didn’t mean to hold her hand? You didn’t mean to let her lean on you? To stand beside her while she hoped?”

Levi said nothing.
Erwin (leaning forward, calm but firm):
“You think you’re protecting her. But you’re not. You’re just trying to protect yourself from having something to lose.”

That hit.Levi’s breath caught for just a second.Erwin leaned back in his chair.
Erwin:
“She’ll heal, Levi. People like her do. They turn their pain into strength. But you…”
He looked at him meaningfully.

Erwin:
“…you’ll keep cutting away the parts of you that feel, until nothing’s left.”

Levi stared at the floor.For a long time, neither of them spoke.

Then Erwin stood up, placing a hand briefly on Levi’s shoulder.

Erwin (quietly):
“You don’t have to love her. But if you do… even a little… don’t wait until she stops trying to tell her.”

He walked away, leaving Levi standing alone with the rain and the silence—and a war inside himself he couldn’t fight with a blade.

~

It had been few days

The rain had cleared. The sky was crisp, washed clean. Spring was slowly creeping in through the wind.

Inside the barracks lounge, Hange, Levi, Mike, Moblit, Nile, and Erwin sat around the long table, bowls and plates scattered between them, laughing more than usual.

Hange had insisted on cooking for everyone again — something she’d proudly called “experimental stew with nutritional balance and soul.”

Unfortunately…

It was terrible.

Mike (grimacing):
“You tried to poison us.”

Moblit (whispering):
“I think my stomach just declared war on itself.”

Nile (flat):
“There was a leaf in mine. A whole one. Still moving.”

Everyone burst out laughing, even Erwin shook his head with a rare chuckle.

Levi smirked, arms crossed.

Levi (deadpan):
“I’ve eaten rations in the mud with more flavor. And less danger.”

Hange (mock-offended):
“Excuse me, culinary cowards! It’s called innovation! A revolutionary blend of survival-based cuisine!”

Mike (muttering):
“It’s a crime.”

As laughter continued, Hange suddenly perked up with an idea. She pulled out her phone dramatically.

Hange:
“Fine. You know what? I’m calling Petra. She appreciates my creativity!”

Levi’s head didn’t move, but his eyes subtly shifted toward her.

Hange hit call and put the phone on speaker.

---

In Petra’s dorm room…

Petra sat at her desk, staring at her half-written notes. Her hair was in a loose bun. A cold cup of coffee sat forgotten beside her.

She hadn’t laughed in days.

She hadn’t been sleeping well.

When her phone buzzed with Hange’s name, she answered softly.

Petra (faint, quiet):
“Hello… Hange-san?”

Hange (cheerfully):
“Petraaa! Emergency! Food crisis! I need a taste review! Imagine a soup made of… survival and science!”

Petra gave a tired chuckle.

Petra (gently):
“You cooked again?”

Hange:
“Yes, and these heartless men are mocking me. I knew you’d understand me.”

Petra didn’t respond right away.

Then softly—almost too soft to hear:

Petra:
“I miss you all.”

The table quieted slightly.

Hange (gently now):
“We miss you too. It’s not as fun when you're not around.”

Levi, who had been resting his chin in his hand, glanced sideways.

He didn’t speak.
But his expression shifted ever so slightly.

Focused.

Listening.

Hange (lightly):
“So what do you say? Next time I cook, you come visit and give your famous food review? It’ll be bad—but from the heart.”

Petra (smiling faintly):
“I’d like that… even if it tastes like regret.”

Everyone at the table chuckled — even Levi.

But only Mike noticed the way Levi’s eyes hadn’t moved off the phone since the moment Petra’s voice came on.

As Hange ended the call, Levi casually sipped from his mug.

Mike leaned closer, a sly smile creeping onto his face.

Mike (teasing):
“You always get real quiet when she’s on the line, Levi.”

Levi (flat):
“Tch. I just like listening to bad reviews.”

Mike (grinning):
“Uh-huh. Sure. That’s what we’re calling it now?”

Levi narrowed his eyes at him.

Levi:
“You want me to review your face next?”

The table laughed again, and the mood lightened. But under all of it, Levi stayed quiet.Not because he didn’t care.
But because that one quiet, broken sentence — “I miss you all” — had hit harder than anything Petra had said in weeks.
He said nothing.But he remembered it.
~
Two weeks passed by in a blink.

Mike’s wife had gone into early labor. The doctors performed an emergency C-section because of the baby’s position. Thankfully, both mother and child were safe—though the baby was admitted to the NICU for extra care.
The hospital room was quiet now, filled with soft light and warmth.
Mike’s wife was still asleep, her face pale but peaceful.
Beside her, a small folded stack of soft pink baby clothes sat on the chair, and Petra was carefully folding them again—her hands slow, delicate, as if they might wrinkle the silence.
Only Petra and Mike’s wife had seen the baby when she was born. A tiny, pink-faced girl with a full head of dark hair. Petra hadn’t stopped thinking about it since.She wanted to hold her again.
---
Soon, the room filled up.

Hange, Moblit, Levi, Erwin, Nile, and Mike all walked in quietly, bringing flowers, snacks, a tiny stuffed bear, and whispered laughter.
Hange (grinning):
“Where’s the little bean? I want to squish her cheeks!”
Mike (gentle, smiling):
“She’s still in NICU. We’ll get to see her soon. They said maybe later today.”
Hange pouted immediately.
Hange:
“Ughhh. So close to greatness.”
Moblit chuckled and helped place things on the side table.
Erwin:
“She’ll be fine. C-section’s hard, but she look stable."

Everyone nodded quietly, respectful of the moment. Mike moved closer to his wife, gently brushing her hand with his fingers.
Petra stood in the corner, still holding a tiny pair of socks.
Levi, who had walked in last, glanced around the room… and his eyes landed on her.She didn’t see him at first.But when she did, their eyes met.Just for asecond.

Her smile faded a little. A softness, maybe sadness, passed across her face.

She looked away first.

---
Suddenly, Hange’s voice broke the silence.

Hange (groaning loudly):
“Okay, I can’t anymore. Moblit, we’ve been married for three years. Where’s my baby?!”
Everyone turned toward her.
Moblit (cautiously):
“Hange… not now—”
Hange (dramatically clutching her stomach):
“I ache for motherhood! I want fat cheeks and tiny socks and someone to drool on my lab notes!”
Mike (deadpan):
“Pretty sure that’s what you already do.”
Hange (sobbing fake tears):
“Moblit, give me a baby. Give me a gremlin with glasses and chaos in its soul!”
Nile (laughing):
“I don’t think that’s how genetics work.”
Erwin (smirking):
“I think the world might not be ready for a Hange 2.0.”
Hange (pointing at Levi):
“You—you quiet, brooding man—you tell him! Back me up!”
Levi (deadpan):
“I’d rather fight humans again.”
Everyone burst out laughing.
Even Moblit, who looked half-embarrassed, half-in-love, muttered something under his breath and patted Hange’s head.
Moblit:
“Let’s start with a plant. If it survives, we’ll talk.”
Hange (gasping):
“You hear that?! That’s a maybe! I’m going to name our plant Potato Jr!”
Mike:
“Start with a cactus. Less likely to die.”
The room filled with laughter. The tension eased. Even Petra let out a small giggle and shook her head.

But Levi…Levi was still watching her.Not laughing.Just watching.
Her expression had faded again. The smile gone as fast as it had come. She folded the last baby shirt and placed it gently into the bag, fingers lingering on the soft fabric.She wasn’t looking at him now.But he knew.
She was remembering what he had said.
“I won’t give you what you’re looking for.”“Don’t expect anything from me.”“I don’t want this.”

And somehow, standing here—amid warmth and laughter and the scent of baby powder—those words felt colder than ever.A soft knock came at the hospital room door.A young nurse stepped inside, smiling warmly.
Nurse:
“Excuse me… if any of you would like to see the baby, she’s visible now through the NICU window.”

Everyone looked up immediately.
Mike stood first, the tiredness in his eyes melting into something brighter. Petra gently handed him the baby bag and gave a soft nod. He touched her shoulder in thanks, then turned to the others.

Mike:
“Come on. Let’s go meet her.”

---
They walked down the quiet corridor together, footsteps echoing softly on the polished floor. The NICU wing was quiet, filled with a hush like reverence.

Outside the large viewing window, they gathered slowly, looking through the clear glass.

Inside—wrapped in soft, pink-and-white blankets, her head in a tiny cap—was the newborn baby girl. Small. Still. Breathing steadily under the gentle glow of the warming lights.

The room stilled.

Even Hange fell silent for a moment.

Erwin (quietly):
“She’s beautiful.”

Mike (in a low voice, proud):
“She has her mother’s nose.”

Moblit (softly):
“She looks peaceful. Like she knows she’s safe.”

Nile:
“Just wait ‘til she learns her dad yells at birds.”

Everyone chuckled under their breath.

Petra stood near the far side of the group, her hands clasped in front of her, gaze locked on the tiny bundle. Her eyes shimmered faintly, lips pressed gently together.

Levi stood behind them, just barely in the back.

He didn’t look at the baby at first.

He looked at Petra.

The way her shoulders relaxed, the softness in her expression, the sadness and quiet joy tangled in her eyes. She looked like someone holding a memory close to her chest.

And then, slowly, Levi turned his gaze to the infant. And for a moment—just a moment—the ever-present tension in his jaw loosened.

---

Hange sniffled beside Moblit.

Hange (soft gasp):
“She’s… so tiny.”

Moblit (smiling):
“All babies are tiny, Hange.”

Hange (serious):
“No. No, you don’t get it.”
She turned to him dramatically, her expression full of mock tragedy.

Hange:
“We’ve been married three years and there is no child in my arms. Do you know what that feels like, Moblit? Do you?!”
Moblit (teasing):
“We literally talked about getting a cat first.”
Hange (sobbing fake tears):
“I don’t want a cat! I want a baby who will throw up on me and ruin my paperwork!”

Erwin (dry):
“They both do that.”
Nile:
“Get a goat. Start small.”

Hange (wailing):
“Someone give me a womb-shaped miracle! I’m ready for chaos motherhood!”
Mike (grinning):
“Petra, take notes. Hange is what happens when your brain gets too much oxygen.”

Petra laughed softly and shook her head, brushing her eyes quickly.
Petra (smiling):
“She’d be a terrifyingly brilliant mom.”
Hange (pointing at Moblit):
“Write that down. She said ‘mom’. That’s an omen. We’re buying diapers!”

Everyone burst into laughter again, and Moblit looked like he might melt from a mix of secondhand embarrassment and love.
---
As the others continued smiling and pointing through the glass, Levi stood apart, quiet.
He looked again at Petra, who had grown silent now, eyes on the baby, her smile faded.
He could guess what she was thinking.
The same way her words had once drifted through the phone, soft and hopeful—
> “Even if you don’t feel the same, I still… care about you.

And how he’d crushed it with one cold sentence.Now, in this moment of warmth, life, and closeness…
Petra stood inches away from everyone, yet somehow looked alone.And Levi felt it.That tight, quiet ache he’d buried deep.

Back in the hospital room, the baby name conversation had completely derailed.
After staring longingly at the newborn through the NICU window, Hange Zoe had spiraled into what could only be described as a comedic oversharing storm of epic proportions.

---
Hange (dramatically holding a tissue):
“You know what, guys? We didn’t even plan for a baby, but now my soul aches for a tiny version of us! A gremlin with Moblit’s panic and my brilliance!”

Moblit (softly):
“Hange, we said we’d wait…”
Hange (cutting him off):
“WAIT?! We’ve been ‘waiting’ while doing everything but waiting! Do you know how many times we’ve had sex just this month?! EIGHT! And that’s just the documented ones!”

Nile (coughing):
“Documented?!”

Hange (wild-eyed):
“Yes! I keep track in my Sexcel Sheet! Tabs for mood, temperature, caffeine intake—you name it!”

Moblit (horrified):
“I didn’t know about half of this!”
Hange (ignoring him completely):
“Let me take you back. Honeymoon, year one. We went to that hot spring cabin? Moblit moody from travel—still did it ten rounds in three nights! I almost dislocated a hip! There was a futon involved!”

Mike (choking on water):
“Ten?! Was he trying to resurrect something?!”

Erwin (genuinely stunned):
“You… documented the hip angle?”

Hange:
“Yes! It was 47 degrees at optimum thrust! And don’t get me started on the ‘disaster-night-during-thunderstorm’ — candles fell, smoke alarm went off, and Moblit still wouldn’t stop! STILL!”

Moblit (groaning into his palms):
“Can I die now? Can someone kill me?”
Hange (continuing proudly):
“Once in the lab with goggles on. Once in the storage room with Moblit still holding charts! Once in my office while an experiment was cooling!”

Levi (low):
“…The hell is wrong with you.”

Moblit (defeated):
“She calls it field testing.”
Nile:
“I can’t look either of you in the eye ever again.”

Hange (grabbing Moblit’s shirt):
“And you still say ‘we weren’t planning a baby’? We’ve done everything except light a ritual fire! Moblit, we summoned every ancestor we didn’t mean to! I should be five months pregnant from our New Year’s event alone!”

Mike (to Levi, wheezing):
“Bro, I swear, I think she’s trying to make Moblit evaporate.”

Hange (now pacing):
“DO YOU KNOW how many stairs I climbed during our ‘moonlight frenzy’ last June?! Forty-eight flights! And Moblit still said, ‘You sure you’re not tired?’ AND THEN PROCEEDED TO DO THE MOST DRAMATIC STRIPTEASE—”

Moblit (shouting):
“HANGE STOP!”

Hange (ignoring him, voice getting higher):
“HE DANCED WITH A TOWEL! A. TOWEL! HE SAID ‘I AM YOUR FERTILITY GOD!’”

Levi (stone-faced):
“I’m leaving. I’m walking into the fire alarm.”

Erwin (wiping tears):
“Moblit, how do you live like this?”

Moblit (defeated):
“I don’t. I just survive.”
---

In the middle of everyone either laughing or covering their faces in disbelief, Petra sat on the edge of a chair near the window. She had chuckled quietly at first, but now her laughter faded.

She looked tired again. Her eyes were a little unfocused—like her mind had wandered back to the things she didn’t say. The things that still hurt.

She turned away from the noise and folded a tiny cap in her lap.

Mike, still snickering, noticed.He leaned toward Levi, voice dropping.

Mike (gently):
“Hey. Petra’s been here since yesterday. I don’t think she’s gonna leave unless someone takes her. Can you drop her back at her dorm?”

Levi followed Mike’s gaze.Petra wasn’t looking at anyone. Just sitting there with the baby cap in her lap, silent again.

Levi (quiet):
“Yeah. I’ll take her.”

The car ride was painfully quiet.

Only the soft hum of the engine and the rhythm of the rain against the windshield filled the space between them.Levi’s hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, eyes fixed forward. His jaw was tense. His expression unreadable.
Petra sat in the passenger seat, her hands folded in her lap, eyes cast down. She glanced at him once. He didn’t look back.Neither of them had spoken since they left the hospital.

The silence felt like punishment.Outside, the city blurred behind the downpour. Red brake lights glowed in the distance — a long stretch of traffic, unmoving.

They were stuck.Trapped — in the rain, and in this moment.Petra finally found her voice.

Petra (softly):
“I’m… I’m sorry.”

Levi said nothing.She swallowed hard and tried again.

Petra:
“About that day… when I called you and… said all those things.”

Still, he didn’t speak.But his grip on the wheel tightened.

Petra (gently):
“I didn’t mean to upset you. I just… I couldn’t hold it in anymore.”

Levi (coldly):
“You should have.”

His words hit like stone.Petra’s fingers curled slightly in her lap.

Petra:
“I wasn’t trying to make you feel guilty.”

Levi (quiet but sharp):
“Then what were you trying to do, Petra?”

Petra:
“…Tell you how I felt.”

Levi (stern, avoiding her gaze):
“I already told you. I can’t give you anything. I won’t.”

Petra (whispering):
“I know. You said not to expect anything.”

There was a long pause, filled with nothing but the sound of rain drumming on the roof.

Petra (still soft):
“But I still… I still care about you.”

Levi (angrily):
“Stop.”

His voice cut through the air, low and sharp.

Petra flinched.

Levi (not yelling, but hard):
“You’re twenty-one. You have a future. A life. College, dreams, people who can actually give you something. I’m thirty-three. I kill for a living. You don’t want what I have.”

Petra (hurt but trying):
“You don’t know what I want.”
Levi (snaps):
“You want someone who makes you feel safe. That’s not me.”
Petra:
“But you do make me feel safe.”
Levi (shaking his head):
“No. I just… happened to be there when things went wrong.”

Petra’s voice cracked.Petra:
“That’s not true. You were there for me when no one else was.”

Levi (looking away, frustrated):
“That doesn’t make me good for you.”

He finally looked at her — cold, restrained, but intense.
Levi:
“You think this is just about age? It’s more than that. You still have hope. You laugh. You cry when something matters. You believe in people. I lost all of that a long time ago.”

Petra (tears forming, voice quiet):
“Then let me believe for the both of us.”

Levi turned away again, staring through the rain-soaked windshield.
Levi (low, final):
“Don’t love someone who can’t love you back.”

The weight of his words settled between them.Petra didn’t say anything else.And Levi didn’t take it back.
The car remained still in the traffic, rain pouring heavily outside — matching the ache inside her chest.The traffic still hadn’t moved.
The red lights ahead glowed like smudged lanterns in the downpour. The rain thrashed against the windshield louder now — thick, heavy, relentless.

Inside the car, Petra sat frozen, staring straight ahead.

Her lip trembled.She pressed her fist to her mouth, like that might stop the sob from escaping.

But it didn’t.

It came anyway — a quiet, shattered sound, like something delicate finally breaking.

And then she sobbed.Not loudly. Not messily. Just broken.
Her shoulders shook as she turned her face toward the window, hiding it — hiding herself — as if she could somehow curl smaller and smaller until she disappeared.
Levi gripped the wheel tighter.
He didn’t look at her.He couldn’t.

But he could hear every breath. Every hitched inhale. Every time she tried to muffle the sound and failed.
And something inside his chest twisted painfully.
He was used to silence Used to pain.Used to loss.
But this… this wasn’t battlefield grief.
This was the sound of someone who loved him anyway.

And he hated it.Because he knew he’d caused it.

And still… he drove forward slowly with the inching traffic, wipers brushing away the storm again and again, like they could somehow wipe away what he couldn’t fix.

His voice, when it finally came, was low. Gritted.

Levi (quiet):
“Don’t cry.”

Petra didn’t respond. She only cried harder — quietly, into her sleeve.

Levi’s jaw clenched.He glanced at her.
One single tear had fallen down her cheek, trailing across the curve of her mouth. Her eyes were shut tightly, like she was begging herself to stop.

But she couldn’t.Because she'd tried so hard. She'd loved so much. She’d held everything in for so long.

And now, she was just—done.Levi looked back at the road.

The ache in his chest wouldn’t go away.
He wasn’t supposed to feel it. He wasn’t supposed to care.

But he did.And that made it worse.

Levi (quieter):
“You shouldn’t waste your tears on someone like me.”

Still, Petra didn’t speak.