Chapter Text
You could swear on your life that you didn't do it on purpose. Really, it wasn't your fault that you were late every morning.
Either your alarm clock had broken, there were transportation issues, or—and you could swear this only happened ten percent of the time—you simply didn't hear your alarm.
Well, it turned out that today was one of those days.
As you barely took the time to brush your hair and throw on the first outfit you could find, you couldn't stop thinking about how badly that bald teacher with the permanently sour expression was going to scold you again. (You still didn't know his name after two months at this school.)
God, you hoped he wasn't actually going to follow through on his threat:
"One more late arrival and you'll be spending an hour after school doing maintenance work."
As you walked—half jogging, really—toward school, you couldn't stop thinking about it.
Besides, what was there even to do at school after hours?
Clean the floors?
Please, no.
That group of students who constantly hung around the hallways (whose names you also didn't know) were always spilling coffee everywhere, and the floors were sticky enough already.
That was the exact thought running through your head when you pushed open the classroom door.
And God, it was embarrassing. Dozens of eyes turned toward you at once, taking in your breathless state and the fact that you were practically holding yourself upright.
Before you could even say a word, before you could decide what excuse to give through the knot forming in your stomach, you heard your name spoken coldly from the front of the room.
It was the teacher. And he looked far from pleased.
"Late again. Should I take this as an act of insubordination?" You immediately felt yourself go pale.
"No, sir, I'm really sorry, I—"
"Miss, frankly, I don't care about your excuses." He folded his arms.
"It seems you'll be joining your classmate Ackerman after school this evening to help clean the school grounds. Since both of you appear to be unavailable whenever you're expected to fulfill your responsibilities, you'll do me the pleasure of reporting here after classes."
A smug little smile appeared on his face. You were convinced this teacher genuinely enjoyed making students suffer.
Why was it that every time you worried about something, it ended up happening? Had he seriously never been late once in his life?
Before you could protest, he gestured toward the classroom. "Now sit down. Unless you'd like to disrupt my lesson even further."
Humiliation won over any desire to argue.
You lowered your head and started making your way through the rows of desks toward your seat beside Hange.
As you did, you couldn't help glancing toward the back of the classroom.
Ackerman.
The surname you had learned to associate immediately with the first name Levi.
He was already looking at you. His expression sat somewhere between blank and mildly questioning.
He was wearing his usual Wednesday outfit—a hoodie and sweatpants. Wednesday afternoons were reserved for sports activities, and Levi spent his at football practice.
At this school, participating in a sport was mandatory.
Unfortunately for you, the volleyball court where you and Hange trained happened to be right beside the football field.
The first time you'd discovered that, you'd regretted agreeing to join Hange's activity.
Not that you'd really had a choice. She'd practically harassed you into joining her team.
Levi rested his head against one hand, looking like the most uninterested person in the room.
When you finally reached your seat, Hange shot you a grin.
"Looks like you've got a date tonight." You groaned.
"Oh, please. Let me forget about it."
Because really, the last thing you wanted was to be stuck with him for an hour doing who-knew-what. Ever since the ball incident about two weeks ago, the two of you hadn't spoken.
Aside from a few glances—indifferent on his side, painfully awkward on yours—there had been no interaction whatsoever.
And now you'd be forced to spend time with him.
Which would have been fine if you weren't completely convinced that Levi Ackerman disliked you.
Actually, scratch that.
You were pretty sure he hated you.
With that cheerful thought, you let out one last sigh and dropped your head into your folded arms on the desk.
Across from you, Hange looked thoroughly entertained.
-------------
The day dragged on painfully slowly. Normally, that would have been a bad thing.
Today, however, you dreaded every passing minute because each one brought you closer to the evening.
You and Hange were in the locker room after lunch—pasta, again, just like almost every day.
Wednesday afternoons were reserved for sports activities.
You pulled on your blue volleyball jersey, the one with "Covey" printed across the back.
Of course, that nickname had been Hange's idea.
She'd come up with it on your first day, all because your Converse sneakers had been poorly laced. Somehow, through a chain of logic only Hange could understand, that had eventually become Covey. You still didn't really get the connection.
But you liked it. Back at your old school, people either used your name to criticize you or called you something far less kind.
Covey felt different. Like a fresh start.
As you and Hange headed toward the volleyball court, your gaze drifted toward the football field.
For some reason, you'd become surprisingly good at spotting Levi in a crowd.
(You had absolutely no idea why.
Maybe you were afraid of getting hit by another ball.)
He was weaving through players with the ball at his feet, preparing to make a pass. Hange had once explained that Levi didn't get along particularly well with most of his teammates. -Except for Furlan- .
Of course, they respected him. He was one of the best players on the team. But that was where it ended.
Levi had learned how to play as part of a team rather than alone.
Socializing, however, was a different story.
According to Hange, asking Levi to make friends was like asking a wolf to become friends with sheep. Those had been Hange's words, not yours.
The statement had then been followed by a ten-minute speech about how wolves weren't evil—they'd simply learned to hunt sheep in order to survive.
As usual, practice began with warm-ups. Then came passing drills.
One thing you liked about the club was how relaxed it was. Since a coach only came by once a month to evaluate everyone's progress, most practices were self-managed.
The volleyball team consisted of nine girls—including you, Hange, Isabel, and several others whose names you really needed to learn—and four boys who all seemed nice enough.
Before starting matches, everyone split into groups of three for passing exercises.
Like always, Isabel joined you and Hange.
"Hey, mind if I join you two?"
"Of course not," Hange replied. "So, how's your class going?"
There it was again.
Hange's unstoppable need to know absolutely everything about everyone.
"It's good," Isabel said. "I'd rather be in the same class as Furlan and Levi, but at least Molly's there with me. I'm used to being apart from them now."
Isabel was a year younger than you. Thinking about it, you did often see her hanging around another girl whenever she wasn't with the two boys.
You'd grown fond of Isabel's gentle nature.
She was genuinely kind, and her positivity always managed to make you smile.
"Actually, Hange," you said while passing the ball back to her, "how come Furlan isn't in our class?"
"I think he chose the science track," Hange answered. "We're in literature. Right, Isabel?"
As Hange spoke, you noticed she was paying absolutely no attention to where she was hitting the ball.
Or how hard.
Or in what direction.
Which was exactly why, when Isabel attempted to receive the next pass while answering Hange's question, the ball hit her forearms too hard, bounced away, rolled across the ground...
And headed straight toward the football field.
Wonderful.
"Oh no, sorry!" Isabel said. "I mishandled that one. I'll go get—"
"No, no," Hange interrupted immediately.
A dangerous grin spread across her face.
"Covey can get it for us."
You narrowed your eyes.
"Hange."
"Look," she continued innocently, "Levi's right there. It's the perfect chance to talk to him before tonight instead of acting like you're about to fight a Titan."
You immediately took a step backward.
"What? No. Absolutely not. Why don't you go?"
Hange grabbed your shoulders and started physically pushing you toward the football field.
"Shh! No more arguments. You can't refuse a request from your incredibly talented, brilliant, unbelievably beautiful best friend."
And that was how you ended up walking toward the football field.
Muttering complaints.
Rolling your eyes.
And quietly whispering, "Oh God."
By the time you reached him, Levi was already holding your volleyball. He looked completely unimpressed.
"Listen," he said, "if you don't want another ball to the face, try not to launch yours onto our field. It'll save everyone some trouble. Nobody pays attention around here—"
"Ackerman! Move!"
The shout came from somewhere behind him.
Levi barely had time to turn his head.
The football hit him square in the face.
Right.
On.
The.
Nose.
You tried.
You really tried not to laugh.
But the situation was ridiculous. The guy who had just been lecturing you about paying attention had immediately gotten nailed in the face.
As Levi clutched his nose and sent a murderous glare toward the guilty players, a snort escaped your lips.
Unfortunately, his glare slowly shifted toward you. And in that moment, you became absolutely certain of one thing.
Levi Ackerman was going to kill you.
You quickly slapped a hand over your mouth, desperately trying to hide your amusement.
It didn't work. Not at all.
Before Levi could decide whether to strangle you or the player responsible, someone jogged over.
Furlan.
"Dude..." he started, already sounding concerned. "I told you to watch out. What distracted you this ti—"
He stopped.
"Oh, shit. You're bleeding."
Levi shot him a look. "No, really? You think? Did the bastard who kicked that ball think he was trying to break through the net?"
Furlan looked seconds away from bursting into laughter. Just like you.
"Easy, man."
"I think this might be my fault," you admitted. "I probably distracted him when I came to get the volleyball. Sorry."
While you spoke, Furlan's gaze kept moving between you and Levi.
Back and forth.
Back and forth.
Like he was putting together a puzzle. Then suddenly, his face lit up.
"Well, why don't you take him to the infirmary?"
Both you and Levi froze.
"The nurse isn't here on Wednesdays," Furlan continued casually, "but there should be bandages and stuff in there."
"...Uh."
You looked at Levi.
Levi looked at you.
Then Levi looked like he'd rather throw himself into traffic.
"Sure," you said weakly.
Furlan's grin widened. Levi looked ready to die.
And just like that, you found yourself walking toward the infirmary beside Levi Ackerman.
The silence was awful.
Painful.
Embarrassing.
The kind of silence that made you aware of every footstep.
After about thirty seconds, you couldn't take it anymore.
"Looks like the ball got its revenge this time."
Levi snorted.
"Hilarious."
"It kind of is."
"You're lucky I was standing there."
"Oh?"
"Otherwise you'd probably be dealing with your second concussion this month."
You gasped dramatically.
"Wow. My hero."
Levi rolled his eyes.
"It's not like YOU were responsible for the first one or anything."
"Right."
"Maybe getting hit made you lose your memory."
By then, you'd reached the infirmary.
While you searched through drawers for tissues, Levi looked for bandages.
The two of you kept catching each other's eyes. Then immediately looking away. Then looking back again. It was ridiculous.
"Sit down."
You held up a box of tissues.
"I found these. Just press them against your nose."
Without arguing, Levi sat.
Which was honestly surprising.
For someone who constantly gave off I do whatever I want energy, he was being remarkably cooperative.
The thought slipped out before you could stop it.
"Good boy."
Silence.
Levi stared.
You stared.
His expression shifted from confusion to shock to absolute outrage. He nearly dropped the tissues.
"What the hell was that?"
You burst out laughing. The horrified look on his face only made it worse.
When you finally managed to calm down, you noticed the faint embarrassment coloring his expression.
"No, seriously," you said. "I'm kidding."
You grabbed a bandage from the cabinet.
"It's just... I expected you to yell at me."
"I yell at people when they deserve it."
"Wow. Thanks."
"I'm saying this wasn't your fault."
You blinked.
Then blinked again.
"Oh."
A brief silence followed. Then Levi spoke.
"Why are you scared of me?"
Your hands paused.
"What?"
"You act like I'm going to murder you every time I look at you."
You slowly peeled open the bandage.
As you stepped closer to place it across the small cut on the bridge of his nose, your eyes met his.
You were only a few inches apart. For a second, neither of you looked away.
"I'm not scared of you," you said quietly.
Levi immediately rolled his eyes.
"Sure."
After applying the bandage, you stepped back. His nose had finally stopped bleeding. Levi got up and moved toward the sink to wash his hands.
Then, without looking at you, he asked:
"Then why do you always look at me like I'm planning your murder?"
You opened your mouth. Closed it. Opened it again.
"...Okay."
A pause.
"Maybe I'm a tiny bit scared."
Levi looked over his shoulder.
"A tiny bit?"
"Look, this morning alone, you stared at me like you were plotting my death."
He turned around completely and leaned against the sink.
The movement made the veins in his hands and forearms stand out.
You immediately looked away.
For completely normal reasons.
Obviously.
"I don't want to kill you," Levi said flatly.
"Good to know."
"I just don't want to spend an extra hour at school because of a missing assignment."
Then he pointed at you.
"Or because somebody keeps showing up late."
"...Fair."
"My point exactly."
"Oh."
You rubbed the back of your neck.
"Sorry."
Levi pushed himself away from the sink. He was probably heading back to practice. As he walked past you, he paused near the door.
"Thanks for the bandage."
You looked up.
"And I'll see you tonight, I guess."
You leaned against the wall beside the door.
And somehow...
You couldn't stop looking at his nose.
Not because it was injured.
Because it was weirdly attractive.
For a nose.
Seriously.
Who finds a nose attractive?
It was straight. Well-defined. Not too sharp. Not too broad.
And somehow—
No.
Stop.
Immediately.
"Y-Yeah! See you tonight!"
You answered far too loudly.
Levi raised an eyebrow.
( Why were his eyebrows so annoyingly well-shaped too? )
You opened your mouth, ready to explain your sudden weirdness.But before you could, he turned and left.
Leaving you alone in the infirmary. Questioning every decision you'd made in the last five minutes.
-------------
You were the first to arrive after school.
The teacher looked like he was either about to fall asleep on his desk or throw a handful of pens directly at your face. Honestly, either option seemed equally likely.
Levi arrived a few minutes later, still dressed in his sports uniform—a red jersey and matching shorts. The teacher glanced at both of you.
"Good. Now that you're both here, you'll spend the next hour feeding every animal on school grounds."
Neither of you responded. So he continued.
"There are two animals in the science wing. After that, don't forget the janitor's dog and the stray cat outside. Nobody gets left behind here."
Still silence.
"The food for the science animals is next to their enclosures. The cat and dog food is in the storage cabinet in Room 200."
He waved a hand dismissively.
"Maybe taking care of them will help you develop some appreciation for this school."
With that, he practically shooed the two of you out of the classroom.
The second the door closed behind you, Levi spoke.
"Follow me."
You frowned.
"What? Why?"
"You don't know where the science rooms are, do you?"
"...No."
"Then follow me."
"Okay, fair enough."
You hurried after him. Then another thought crossed your mind.
"Wait. Do you know what animals we're taking care of?"
Levi shrugged.
"No."
That was not reassuring. At all.
A few minutes later, he pushed open the door to one of the science classrooms.
And immediately, you got your answer.
A snake.
A whole snake.
An actual, real-life snake.
And next to it—
A guinea pig. A tiny, adorable guinea pig.
"Oh absolutely not."
You nearly sprinted across the room toward the guinea pig enclosure.
The poor animal jumped in surprise.
Levi rolled his eyes. But thankfully didn't argue when you immediately claimed the guinea pig.
The two of you fed your respective animals.
Levi finished in less than five minutes.
You, unfortunately, became emotionally attached.
"Look at him."
You gently scratched under the guinea pig's chin.
"Look how cute he is."
Levi looked entirely unimpressed.
"The guinea pig will survive five minutes without you."
He crossed his arms.
"I really want to go home and shower."
You gasped.
"How dare you."
"I'm serious."
"You have no appreciation for beauty."
"It's a rodent."
"It's an adorable rodent."
Levi sighed dramatically.
For him, anyway.
Which mostly meant exhaling through his nose.
Eventually, he physically had to drag you away from the enclosure.
"Come on."
"Fine."
You pointed accusingly at the guinea pig.
"This isn't over."
The guinea pig blinked.
Levi looked concerned for your sanity.
"Why didn't you shower in the locker rooms?" you asked as you left.
Levi immediately stopped walking. Then slowly turned toward you.
The expression on his face was a mixture of horror, disgust, and betrayal.
"In what universe would I shower in those disgusting locker rooms?"
"...You know what?"
You nodded.
"That's a fair point."
"Thank you."
The dog turned out to be incredibly friendly. The moment you approached, it practically threw itself onto its back demanding belly rubs.
Which you happily provided.
The stray cat was a little more complicated. At least with you. Every time you got close, it backed away.
But for some reason, it absolutely adored Levi. The black cat spent most of its time rubbing against his legs.
Levi didn't seem bothered by it. Which surprised you.
The image of Levi Ackerman standing there while a tiny cat wound itself around his ankles was strangely adorable.
You kept that thought to yourself.
Mostly for your own safety.
After feeding the animals, the two of you returned the remaining food to the storage room.
You hadn't spoken in several minutes.
But there was something strange about Levi's expression. Like he wanted to say something. Eventually, you couldn't take it anymore.
"What?"
Levi blinked.
"What?"
"Why are you looking at me like that?"
He hesitated.
Then reached into his pocket.
"Nothing."
A pause.
Then he held something out.
"Here."
You stared. Then immediately recognized it.
Your keychain.
Your black cat keychain.
"Oh my God."
You snatched it from his hand.
"Where did you find this?"
Levi rubbed the back of his neck.
"You dropped it."
"When?"
A pause.
"The day I hit you with the ball."
"...Oh."
Another pause. Then realization hit.
"You've had this for two weeks?"
Levi looked away.
Which was answer enough.
You stared at him. Then stared some more.
And suddenly you understood what Isabel always meant when she talked about him.
Levi wasn't mean. He wasn't cold.
He just didn't know how to approach people.
Everyone expected him to come to them.
But maybe—
Maybe Levi was the kind of person you had to approach first.
You smiled.
A dangerous idea immediately forming in your head.
"You know what?"
Levi narrowed his eyes. That smile never meant anything good.
"What?"
"Keep it."
"...What?"
You lifted your bag.
Attached to the zipper was another keychain.
A gray cat.
"This one is mine."
You pointed toward the black cat still in his hand.
"That one can be yours."
Levi looked genuinely confused.
"Why would I—"
"It's symbolic."
"Symbolic."
"Yep."
You nodded confidently.
"We both got hit by balls."
Levi immediately looked offended.
"That's not the point."
"We both got hit."
"It absolutely is not the point."
"And now we both have matching cat keychains."
Levi stared.
You grinned.
"The beginning of our friendship."
Silence.
Long silence.
The kind of silence that made you wonder if you'd finally lost your mind.
Levi looked like he'd just seen a ghost.
"...Friendship?"
"Yep."
"I don't remember agreeing to that."
"You don't have to."
"What?"
"You don't get a choice."
You pointed at him dramatically.
"We're friends now."
Levi continued staring. Speechless.
For once.
Satisfied with your work, you turned around.
Then walked away before he could recover enough to argue.
Leaving him standing there. Completely stunned.
----------------------------------
Levi ended up attaching the keychain to his bag. Honestly, you'd have to be blind not to notice it.
His style was usually simple. Muted colors. Nothing unnecessary.
And now there was a tiny black cat dangling from the zipper.
Surprisingly, it didn't bother him. Not really.
Because the look on your face when you'd noticed it the next day—
That brief moment of surprise.
The way you'd looked genuinely caught off guard, as though you hadn't actually expected him to keep it—
For some reason, that had been enough.
Friends, huh?
The thought felt strange.
Levi had never really thought about friendship like that before.
Not with Isabel.
Not with Furlan.
Not with anyone.
And somehow...
That realization lingered with him far longer than it probably should have.