Chapter Text
The Fifth Sense
By Helena
I. Hear
II. See
III. Touch
IV. Smell
V. Taste
I. Hear
These are the days he doesn’t know that he’ll remember them by the most. Moments so unremarkable, Levi is not even certain why they were encoded to last for the long-term.
The comfortable lull during the “in-between”, after the harrowing grief of an expedition but before the swelling anticipation of the next one. Lazily lounging on late Friday afternoons when Erwin is in an overtly good mood and gestures toward the port wine. Plans ruined by severe weather, necessary readjustments in travel plans gifting them unexpected time together.
Tonight’s gathering can be blamed on the blinding white of the snowstorm and human propensity to gather around one fire together instead of apart at individual hearths.
Levi shows up late, the last of the Scouts to crowd into their Commander's office. Erwin remains at his desk, a passive if not pleased smile hidden beneath hard features. Hange, Moblit and Miche sit around a messy table covered in gambling chips and playing cards. Günther and Nanaba take the only sofa, focused on each other in a heated debate, pretending to be unaware of their knees knocking together.
“Captain Levi,” Hange greets with an earnest wave. “We just refilled the kettle. The water should still be hot.”
He nods in thanks. Since Erwin recruited him, Hange has made an intentional effort to curb their curiosity about his impressive skills— or “unexplainable aptitude”, as they describe it— and offer friendship instead. Levi moves toward the tea cart on the other side of the fireplace, observing their Commander from his peripheral.
The tension that remains in Erwin’s militant frame is indiscernible, but Levi knows better. He has something on his mind and isn’t settling into the buzz of liquor or laughter of card games like the rest of them.
“We’ve got mail from Shadis,” Erwin remarks, to no one and to all of them.
It’s an offhand comment, but Levi hears it. The tilt in the otherwise even tone that is leaning toward concern or curiosity.
“Oh,” Hange exclaims, focused on shuffling the card deck. “Haven’t seen him in quite some time.”
Levi is busy hunting for the tea strainer, unreasonably frustrated that it is not where he left it considering this is not his office let alone his tea cart. He sees Hange turn in their chair.
“That usual for him? To write to you?” Hange adds in afterthought.
“No.” Erwin looks at the envelope for a beat, and then begins to open it. “In fact, it’s unusual.”
Levi spares a cursory glance around the room to see who has tea and is thus more likely to be the culprit who misplaced the strainer. He narrows in on a discarded teacup on the small table beside Günther.
“Read it aloud then, eh?” Miche prompts, cutting a cigar while Hange starts to deal.
Levi takes a step toward the idiotic lovebirds on the sofa, but the contents of the letter soon stop him from moving further.
“Erwin, in light of what humanity is up against, I thought it necessary to notify you. We’ve a cadet with inexplicable strength— an unexplainable skill set, really. Mikasa Ackerman. She has a complete understanding of every subject; it’s no overstatement to say she’s a genius. Needless to say, we have never seen the likes of her talent.
“Though she’s sure to rank in the top and could choose placement with the Military Police, there are personal conditions inclining her toward the Scouts. If I were you, I’d have a vested interest in ensuring the finality of her decision. I’m certain she could stand in for one-hundred soldiers outside the Walls.”
Levi loses his resolve on the necessity of a strainer. He turns back to the kettle and starts to prepare his preferred blend of black tea with spearmint.
It’s Moblit who hums first. “My, aren’t we fortunate Shadis is partial to our branch.”
“Didn’t you say he prematurely retired and forfeited his post?” Levi interjects. “I wouldn’t call that partial.”
It was a mistake to speak. Erwin has turned his calculative gaze onto him.
“What do you think, Levi?”
Levi shrugs, no longer using the tea as an excuse for distraction. He meets Erwin’s question without blinking.
“I don’t know the man like you do, but I don’t trust anyone who waves something shiny and expensive in my face and says ‘Here, you should have it.’”
“Not about Keith’s intents. About the cadet.”
Levi sighs. The others in the room might attribute it to boredom, but Erwin knows him better and waits patiently for the answer.
“I’ve told you I’m not the only one," he says, something tightening in his chest.
One of what he isn’t sure. There’s both a strange comfort and worrisome affliction to consider that beyond Kenny, he might not be the only one with this unexpected talent— or curse.
“You think she could be like you?” Hange nearly shouts. In their excitement, they drop their cards facing upward and reveal what might have been a winning hand.
Levi is not used to the excessive attention that comes with being known, let alone famed, in the military. It’s uncomfortable to have the entire room staring at him— him and his unexplainable aptitude— but he takes his time to think it over. It's impossible to know from a first impression written over a letter, but what else could it be?
“Could be,” Levi offers finally. Wanting to change the subject, he asks, “You going to do what Shadis suggests?”
“I sure hope so,” Nanaba says, ever the pragmatist.
Erwin continues to stare at Levi. He places the letter down neatly before him. “It’s something I’d consider. Are you suggesting that I don’t?”
Levi doesn’t hesitate to meet Erwin’s challenging gaze head on. “You already got your greedy hands on one super soldier. Maybe let the next one make her own decision.”
Miche and Moblit laugh at his boldness. Hange just stares with widened eyes, no doubt eager to get their own hands on someone with unexplainable aptitude who might be more willing to be tested and prodded.
“That would be a risk,” Erwin acknowledges. “She could easily end up enlisting with the Military Police.”
Günther interjects this time. “If those worthless cowards hiding in the interior are who she plans to join, do we even want her with us anyway?”
Levi agrees, but he doesn’t say it. He finishes steeping his tea, methodically removing the tea ball and carefully cleaning up what little mess he made. By the time he turns back toward the Commander, he sees that Erwin has forfeited. There’s a subtle shift of his shoulders as he leans further back into the cushion of his chair.
“Alright. Then we leave it up to chance.”
Not chance, Levi thinks to himself. To choice.
But he only lifts an indolent brow to the Commander, approaching him at his desk and leaning against the side of it. “You do enjoy a good gamble.”
Erwin’s hum is not in favor for or against this observation. He picks up the letter, seemingly observing it for one last time. Levi heard the words, but he can’t help but glance at the inked statements. He sees the cadet's name written in the instructor’s sloppy and slanted letters.
“Mikasa Ackerman.” Erwin folds the letter back into the envelope and tosses it into the bin behind his desk. Though he could be speaking to anyone in the room, Levi knows the words are meant for him. “At the very least, don’t forget her name.”
Levi looks at the discarded letter in the trash.
He knows that he won’t.
.
.