Chapter Text
Her life feels like ocean waves.
Hange cursed as the needle she had punctured through the cloth hit the tip of her index finger. She had once again forgotten to put a thimble on in her rush to start sewing her frayed jeans back together. Luckily, the calluses on her fingertips were more than enough to prevent her skin from bleeding. Hange sighed in relief.
Outside her window is a lone street lamp, the only source of illumination in the dead of the night. Hange constantly found herself staring at it absently at dawn, blinking back sleep as she leaned against the wall, research materials in hand. Somehow, the lone lamp reminded her of herself. It was early mornings such as these that made Hange acutely aware of the fact that like always , she was alone.
The dorm room she was in was gloomy, but it wasn’t as if Hange had any right to complain. The rent was cheap and she had a place to stay—this was no time to be picky when it came to her living conditions. Still, Hange wished she had something better. She wished that the traces of mold that had mysteriously appeared in her wooden cabinet when she opened it the morning prior would disappear. She hoped that the jeans she was attempting to fix would magically sew itself into something she could actually wear the next day. She prayed that the money she had earned over the years would magically enter her bank account, so that she wouldn’t have to worry about how she was going to pay rent the next month.
More than anything, Hange prayed that she could crush the nagging feeling of isolation and that her thirst for more would finally be satisfied. At twenty-nine years of age, she was finally getting tired of searching for the familiarity that came with places and faces she’s only ever seen in the depths of sleep, all of which have constantly eluded her grasp.
She attributed her loneliness to her rather disappointing childhood. Hange convinces herself that it was fine, she was fine —after all, she had food on the table and clothes on her body—but she received no love, no affection, and above all, no care. It was a time in her life when she watched her parents continuously find all the pettiest reasons to fight because they had lost their spark for each other, never bothering to change it.
The only riveting factor that made up for her sad reality was the fact that ever since she was young, Hange always had whimsical dreams.
She’d constantly be in the air, propelled by some sort of device that allowed her to swing from one place to another. She would hear her own laughter echoing in her ears, the sound of her excited shouts scratching her throat.
It was the same feeling that Hange got whenever she would learn something new. She was no stranger to the familiar throes of wanting to know more, gain more experience, and discover everything about the world, even when she was barely five years old. Her curiosity peaked at random intervals, and Hange would constantly bombard her mother and father with questions about the way the world worked, how her body was able to do the things that it did, how animals were able to fly and why the sky was blue and— oh, she could go on and on about anything and everything, but still—
Nothing was ever enough.
Hange had considered many different fields of study, and was well-versed in every scientific field she could get her hands on, however . . .
The happiness and joy that came with every discovery she made was constantly short-lived. While she constantly did her best to hold on to whatever flame she managed to conjure in the depths of her lonely heart, it was extinguished just as fast before she could even register the burn. While she loved science, every new thing she learned felt short-lived.
This is why Hange was always looking.
She knows that she is blessed with intelligence and wisdom well beyond her years, but she presented herself in a manner that she believed was normal, attempting to hide that she knew more than she really did. By the time she entered elementary school, she was already part of a select group of individuals she could consider her friends, acquired by burying the excitement that came with learning.
Unfortunately, it didn’t work.
Her grades were nowhere near subpar. She excelled so much in her classes to the point that she had to be bumped up a few year levels. This made her parents happy, so Hange told herself that it was great, she wanted this. She would receive love and affection from them and convince herself that she was happy to be this child prodigy who could explain Einstein’s theory of relativity with such precision that old scientists thought she’d actually be able to prove it.
In such a short amount of time, Hange found herself speaking at international conferences under a pseudonym her parents gave her in order to cover her identity: Hans Muller. She was a minor, after all, and both her mother and father constantly worried when it came to security issues.
When she turned twelve, Hange met a man named Keith Shadis. He was both a military instructor for cadets in the Reserve Officer Training Corps and a Physics professor at Shiganshina University, a prestigious (yet small) university that her parents had specifically told her to attend. He knew her last name without her even mentioning it, and it surprised them both to a certain extent. They shake it off as pure coincidence ; Shadis had, after all, interacted with both of Hange’s parents recently.
“Name?”
Hange adjusts the college uniform she was sporting, pulling back the long sleeves of her shirt back in an attempt to look decent. “Hange,” she said, trying to muster up the courage despite her fear. She could almost feel the other students watching her curiously.
“ Hange Zoë,” Shadis said automatically, scrunching his eyebrows. “Aren’t you a little young to be going to university?”
“Why yes, yes I am!” she replied a little too enthusiastically, tilting her head to the side. “But how do you know my name, sir?”
Shadis blinked at his clipboard in slight confusion. Hange watched as his eyebrows scrunched together as he thought.
“ Huh, I don’t know.”
“You do look familiar though, sir,” Hange said, pursing her lips. “Have I met you before? Do you know my parents, maybe?”
“Hmm,” Shadis said, humming. “Yeah, I do know the Zoës. Familiar folks around here. Don’t remember them having a child though.”
“Well, that’s me,” Hange told him. “I normally go by Hans Muller though!”
“Doesn’t ring a bell.”
“Oh,” Hange murmured, “Well, in any case, It’s nice to meet you, sir.”
Hange lives as Hans Muller for a little more than a decade and a half, revelling in her fame as she gives talks and speeches and lectures. Every day, she convinces herself that this is what she wanted, this is who she was destined to be . . .
Until she couldn’t take it anymore.
Leaving home was one of the best decisions Hange had ever made. At twenty-two years of age, she packed up everything she had, took whatever cash was available to her, and left the premises of the mansion built on her sweat, tears, and years taken away from her childhood she could never get back.
Of course, her parents called. A lot. She tried to ignore the tinge of guilt that would arise whenever she heard them beg for her to come back so that they “could be a family again,” because they miss their “baby so, so much, please come home,” but Hange knew that it was all just a farce—a scheme of sorts to get her to return and be their obedient money-making machine once more.
After all, her parents hid the fact that she ran away. They claimed that she was merely “on a trip to find herself” and would “return to lectures and make public appearances soon!”
She never did.
Hange scoffed as she locked the thread in place. For a moment, she scrutinized her handiwork. Hange knew very well she wasn’t made for tasks such as this, but her sloppy knitting had to make do if she wanted to save for next month’s rent.
If there was one thing her parents got right, it was the fact that Hange did find herself soul-searching. She went to places where she knew people would never know of her existence, hiding in obscure towns and cities so she could blend in with the crowd smoothly and proceed with her life as it was. This had been her routine for six years, as she worked odd jobs in random places and met random people with random names and random stories that she stored in the depths of her mind, trying to see if any would ring a bell.
Her train of thought is immediately interrupted by the ringing of her phone, and Hange nearly jumped out of her seat in surprise. The familiar tune of birds chirping filled the silence of the room. Hange looked at the dim glow of her phone, squinting her eyes at the name.
A small smile graced her lips as she read the name, and Hange picked up the phone, her voice light.
“Good afternoon, Isabel.”
The young girl’s voice sounds elated as she screeched, “Hange! How are you?”
Hange laughed, placing her now not-so-tattered jeans on her bed as she leaned back against her pillow. “I’m okay,” she said as honestly as she could, not really wanting to delve into the complications of her personal life. “Now, pray tell, Isabel; why are you calling me at—” Hange paused, glancing at the glowing clock beside her bed, “—four-thirty in the morning?”
Isabel scoffed, and from the distance, Hange heard Farlan’s reprimands of “I told you she could’ve been sleeping! Damn it, Isabel .”
“But you weren’t sleeping, right?” Isabel replied, deliberately ignoring Farlan’s words. “You’re awake, doing whatever it is you do at four-thirty in the morning. Right?”
Hange chuckled. “Right. You still didn’t answer my question though.”
“It’s nearly Christmas! When are you going to come back here?” Hange could almost see the pout on Isabel’s lips as the young girl whined. “We haven’t seen each other in a year, Hange! That’s too unfair.”
Hange looked at the tilted calendar clumsily pinned to the wall in her haste to finish unpacking. “Oh, I barely noticed,” she commented, noting the date. “It really has been a while since I last visited Sina.”
Isabel groaned. “Your reaction makes it sound like you didn’t miss us!” the young girl said accusingly.
Hange laughed sheepishly. “I did miss you guys! Why wouldn’t I?”
“Which is why ,” Isabel emphasized, “you need to come back for the holidays. Come on, it’ll be fun! You can stay at our house again, and we can watch movies like we used to.”
Hange hummed in thought. “I would love to,” she started, “but I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t exactly have money to fly out there,” Hange whispered shyly. Isabel made a noise of understanding.
“We can just pay for your flight.” It was Farlan who was speaking now. “Round trip.”
Hange shook her head before realizing that they couldn’t see each other. “No,” she told him firmly, refusing to add more of her debt to the siblings. “You don’t need to do that.”
“Well, you don’t have to pay us, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Isabel said loudly. Hange figured that she was on speaker for the two of them to listen.
“I really, really appreciate the gesture, but no thanks . ” Hange responded decisively.
“Come on, Hange, if we didn’t have money, you would’ve treated us too! Remember when you paid for our lunch back when we were still in university? This is us repaying the gesture!” Isabel exclaimed.
“You know I really miss you guys, and I would really love to, but I really can’t. I’m sorry.”
Isabel huffed. “Fine, be that way! You and your stupid pride.”
Hange sighed. “It’s not my pride—”
She halted just as she began. Isabel was right. It was her pride that was stopping her. It wasn’t just the guilt of owing money to two fresh graduates; it was the fact that she needed money from them in order to survive.
“I’m sorry,” Hange said softly. From the other end, she heard Isabel grunt.
“I’m sorry too,” the young girl told her. “If you change your mind though, just give us a call.”
“Sure,” Hange muttered.
Farlan chuckled. “I hope you change your mind. We really do miss you.”
“I miss you guys too,” Hange said honestly. “We’ll see each other again.”
“We better!” Isabel interjected, laughing. “If it takes five years before I see you again I will punch your shoulder!”
“Sure, Isabel, you go do that.” Hange laughed as she ran a hand through her hair. “I’m going to go grab some coffee in a bit. I’ll talk to you guys soon.”
Isabel laughed loudly as Farlan let out an audible scoff. “Only you can grab coffee at four in the morning.”
“Four forty-five, Isabel.”
“ Whatever.”
“I’ll talk to you both again ASAP," Hange whispered, a little disappointed she couldn’t stay for longer. Unfortunately, she had work to do, and coffee was the first step to a productive day. “Goodbye, Isabel. Farlan.”
Isabel’s “bye Hange!” and Farlan’s soft “goodbye” echoed in her ears, the glow of their tones reverberating in her body. Their voices warmed her form as she exited her apartment to face the cold dawn.
Her pathetic excuse of a pick-up truck was a hunk of junk that was a constant pain in the ass, but Hange made do.
Hange wrapped her coat tighter around her thin frame as she made the short walk to the entrance of the cafe. Normally, she would be at The Underground at around three in the morning, but today was one of those days when she felt as if she could slack off for a bit before going to work.
The warm air greeted her as she entered, and she sighed in relief, loosening her grip on her coat. There were only two people in the cafe—a blonde whose hair was disheveled either from sleep or the lack of it, and an auburn-haired woman who already succumbed to rest. Both of them looked like students, Hange observed, as she took in the pile of papers carelessly laid down on the table in between tall cups of drinks that she guessed was probably loaded with caffeine.
Hange chuckled, remembering the days she spent as a teacher’s assistant in Sina University. Isabel and Farlan were both students there, and they spent a lot of time hanging out together in the library as she agreed to give Isabel lessons on integral calculus while also guiding Farlan in biochemistry. They had met when Hange accidentally overheard the two fighting each other as to whether or not they should eat lunch that day, so she volunteered to treat the two of them because they reminded her of people she knew.
The problem was, Hange didn’t know who. It was that odd sense of familiarity Hange had felt during her first interaction with Professor Shadis. She shakes it off as mere coincidence. Either way, Hange maintained that it was a good hunch, given that the three of them had been friends ever since.
Hange sighed nostalgically at the memory, before directing her attention back to the menu. The light emanating from the screens were harsh against her eyes, which had gotten used to the darkness of dawn and the dim lighting of the cafe, but Hange stared at the options and contemplated if she should actually order something else other than her usual.
There was no one at the cashier, but she knew that once she rang the small bell placed on the counter, the familiar guy (Eld, she presumed) would come out swiftly, ready to take her order.
She heard the door of the cafe open and close for a moment. Hange ignored it, choosing to maintain her gaze on the menu splayed out in front of her. A swish of black drifted in her peripheral vision, but she didn’t give it much thought. It was most likely Eld’s co-worker ready to take over his shift.
Hange allowed herself to mull over the contents of the menu for a few minutes, lightly humming a soft tune as she thought. She could order a frappuccino, or perhaps tea, or something else that could energize her sleep-deprived state at dawn. She pursed her lips, crossed her arms above her chest, trying to settle on a decision before she was set to leave and head off to the university.
Eld exited the staff room then, and Hange looked as his familiar figure gave her a small wave of goodbye. Hange grinned before waving back energetically. “Thanks for your hard work!” she said as softly as she could, but the tone of her voice was still riddled with her own enthusiasm.
“Have a nice day,” Eld told her in response, a small smile on his face. Hange gave him one final wave before returning her gaze on the menu.
After about a minute, Hange decided that enough was enough.
That’s it, she thought, waving her hands in front of her face in an attempt to convince herself that she was satisfied. I’m just going to order the same thing.
She rang the bell twice, hoping that Eld’s coworker was just as welcoming as he was.
It only took about five seconds before a man stepped out of the staff room.
Hange blinked as she took in his appearance. He was a tad shorter than her (about three inches, she deduced) and his face was set into what seemed to be a permanent scowl. She shuddered as the exact sense of familiarity she was just pondering on a few minutes back washed over the entirety of her being.
He was frowning, but Hange couldn’t shrug off the feeling that this guy— Levi , his name tag read—seemed nice . Which didn’t make sense to her, given the fact that he seemed to be glaring at the register.
Levi. The name repeated itself in her mind. This isn’t the first time she’d heard such a name, but the attachment of the man’s face to the series of letters felt . . . right, for reasons she couldn’t explain.
Hange watched as Levi tapped his fingers mechanically on the register.
“May I take your order?”
There was no “hello” or “good morning” or “how are you.” He barely even looked at her as he spoke, but Hange balled her hands into fists as she tried to ignore the way her heart leapt at the familiarity of his tone, no matter how crude he may have seemed.
The feeling of familiarity was back; stronger than ever before. It’s just a coincidence, she tells herself. He probably looks like someone you know , she thinks in a pathetic attempt to convince herself so. Cursing internally, Hange inhaled sharply before exhaling her next words a little too enthusiastically.
“Good morning! Could I please have a large sweet cream cold brew nitro? To-go, please!” Hange beamed.
Levi raised his head to look at her, his fingers floating over the register in what seemed to be silent shock. For a moment, he stared at her, his mouth slightly agape.
Hange smiled at him excitedly at first, but when he said no words, she tilted her head to the side in confusion. Thoughts started racing through her head by the second. Did he feel the same sense of familiarity she did? Should she really just chalk this up to pure coincidence? Or is this something greater than the two of them combined—
She halted her own train of thought. “Is something wrong?” Hange asked, looking at him in concern. Desperately, she tried to push away the nagging feeling gnawing at her being from the back of her mind, wanting to burst free. She ignored it actively.
“Is my order not available?” she continued to question. Levi doesn’t respond immediately, so she spoke once more, “That’s okay, you know, I can just order something else—”
He interrupted her smoothly, sounding more composed than he had been prior. Hange tried to ignore the way her heart sped up its pace as she watched his Adam's apple bob up and down when he swallowed. “Name?” he asked calmly.
“Oh!” Hange said in surprise, jumping up slightly. “Right, I haven’t seen you here at this hour before!” She chuckled softly, trying to calm her nerves. “Just put in Hange!”
His hands were quick on the register then as he placed his order on the machine. Hange gnawed on the inside of her cheek in an attempt to relax her jittery body.
She knows that she’s never seen Levi before in her life. Hange wasn’t good with faces, but she wasn’t terrible either. She would’ve known from the get-go that Levi was someone she’d never met before . . . so why? There were a million questions racing through her head. Who is he? Why does he feel so . . . familiar? And why in the world is my heart racing?
Her eyes were glued to the back of his head, trying to find the missing piece of a puzzle she couldn’t connect. Coincidence, she repeated in her mind, shaking her head lightly to knock some sense into herself.
It was only when Levi glanced at her that Hange realized she had been staring.
She laughed nervously, giving him a tiny wave.
When Levi turned back to his task, Hange breathed a sigh of relief. She observed as he poured the drink into a tall cup expertly before placing it on top of the counter.
“Hange,” he called, and Hange immediately tried to ignore the way her heart skipped a beat.
Levi pinched the area between his eyebrows as she walked over to the counter. Hange scrunched up her eyebrows in concern. “Hey, Levi,” she started, and Levi visibly flinched.
He probably forgot that he’s wearing the name tag, she said automatically in her head. He regained composure relatively quickly, though, but didn’t say a word.
Hange continued. “Do you have a headache?” Without waiting for him to respond, Hange smiled. “I got just the thing!” she exclaimed, digging into her coat. She knew those random painkillers she kept bringing around would come in handy one day. “I’ll leave you this gift as thanks for your service.”
She placed the painkiller on the counter as her left hand reached for her drink. “Take it so you can have a good morning, okay?”
He was staring at her cautiously, and Hange couldn’t help but smile.
She winked. “Oh, and don’t take it with tea.”
Levi’s eyes narrowed in suspicion, and Hange grinned, hiding the fact that she felt like a stalker at that very moment. She didn’t even know whether or not he drank tea (but she was free to assume as such, her mind justified; he did own a cafe after all).
He muttered a clipped “thank you” in response, though, and she grinned.
“Take care, Levi!”
With those words, she turned around and headed towards the doorway, walking past the two students who were now both caught in the throes of sleep. Hange maintained her composure until she reached her car.
Making sure that she was out of sight from the counter, she leaned on the rear of her pick up truck. Hange tossed her head upwards, her gaze focusing on the early, orange sky as her deft fingers gripped her cold drink.
What the fuck just happened?
The temperature of the drink clashes with the warmth of her palm, and Hange shudders, pulling her coat tighter around her frame. Ever so slightly, she tilted her head to the side, stealing a glance at the short man situated behind the counter. Hange saw the way he slumped on the table, fingers massaging his temples and hands curled into fists.
Just a coincidence, she repeats in her mind, but the way her heart leapt in her chest told her that it refused to believe so.
Hange was not having a good day.
She had unfortunately missed another one of the university’s required faculty meetings, which led to her getting chewed out for what seemed like the third time that week. She could still hear the school director’s voice telling her, “You’re a good professor, and I know how smart you are, Hans. This school is blessed to have you , a child prodigy — if not for the fact that you never show up to meetings.”
In the end, they decided to give her an assistant to remind herself of her meetings, so at least there was that. She’d be meeting them, whoever they were, first thing the next morning.
To add to her annoyance, her pathetic excuse of a vehicle also took about a solid two minutes before it revved to life. It took a lot of begging from Hange’s part (which, even though she knew probably didn’t do anything to help her case, still felt necessary).
Hange groaned, kicking her car door close after she exited her car, shoving her hands inside her lab gown as she stalked towards The Underground. In order to make herself feel better, she decided that she needed a snack from one of the most peaceful places she knew.
Hange’s mind was already flying to her upcoming research proposal when she approached the counter. She didn’t even bother contemplating as to whether or not she should order something else. Instead, she faced a bright-eyed young woman ready to recite her usual “large sweet cream cold brew nitro.”
“Good morning! What can I get you today?”
Hange chuckled, meeting Petra’s bright smile with one of her own. Familiar, a voice in her heart said. Coincidence, her mind countered.
“Hello to you too as well! I’ll have a large sweet cream cold brew nitro please.”
“Nice choice,” Petra complimented, and Hange grinned.
Hange was about to look for a seat when the man standing behind Petra gaped at her in surprise. “Professor?” he choked out, and Hange raised an eyebrow.
“Jean!” Hange exclaimed in light surprise. “Good morning!”
Jean was an outspoken student in the university who possessed a natural leadership ability that (Hange assumed) probably came with years of experience. He was constantly spearheading group projects and had shown a keen interest in the general science subject Hange was currently teaching, which was biology.
Currently, however, the boy’s cheeks were starting to turn a light shade of red. “Hello, professor,” he grumbled shyly, looking away. “Fancy seeing you here.”
Hange laughed. “It’s not really that much of a coincidence, considering how close the university is to this place.”
Jean chuckled at her statement, losing a bit of the initial embarrassment he had at being caught at work. “Yeah, I guess so.”
“Don’t feel shy about your job here, Jean,” Hange told him, grinning. She knew what it felt like to be working a job when she hastened to earn money in order to get by. “I’m sure you’re doing a good job anyway. Right, Petra?”
Jean’s face softened then, and he glanced at his superior who had started giggling. “Yeah Jean, you’re doing great!”
“There you go!” Hange said, smiling. “I’ll go find a seat now. Thank you, Petra! It was nice seeing you as well, Jean.”
She turned around, scanning the cafe to see if there was anyone seated at her regular spot. Hange was on the process of glancing at the tables when her eyes landed on the familiar face that visited her thoughts in the dead of the night.
Hello, Levi.
The next emotion that blossomed in her chest was not familiarity. Instead, it was a combination of feelings she identified as regret, guilt, and pain. Hange shook her head, attempting to push back the emotions that were bubbling inside of her.
Who are you, Levi?
She narrowed her eyes, steeling herself. Hange inhaled sharply as she steeled herself. Swallowing the lump in her throat and ignoring the way her heart began to pound against her chest, she walked towards the man.
Whoever he was, she was about to find out.
Hange’s interaction with Erwin the other day had been odd, to say the least.
She pondered over the coincidence as she made her way through the university halls, trying to make sense of the blond’s odd behaviour. Hange knew that his steel blue eyes were strange and familiar at the same time—in the same way, his gaze was both intrusive and elusive.
Coincidence, she told herself. Probably reminded her of someone she knew back when she was still participating in global competitions. He did look like one of the judges that had commended her for one of the many research proposals she made when she was fifteen and optimistic.
Hange also wondered if it was because she knew Erwin’s father. Professor Smith was an optimistic intellectual who prided himself in his passion for discovering new avenues for learning. A lot of the students found him interesting for this very reason, and Hange couldn’t agree with them more.
Briefly, as she was walking to the faculty room, she remembered a short conversation she had with the man.
“Hans, do you believe in coincidences?”
She laughed. “Yes, actually. Do you think it’s ironic?”
Mr. Smith shook his head, smiling softly at her. “I don’t think it’s impossible, it’s just odd for an intellectual such as yourself.”
“To think that everything is predetermined? I doubt that,” Hange responded. Mr. Smith laughed.
“Ah,” he says in acknowledgement. “So you don’t believe the famous saying that there is no such thing as coincidence, there is only the inevitable.”
“Don’t human beings have the power to change their fate?” Hange said quizzically. “I believe that the universe really has no say in the matter.”
“I’d assume so, given that humans are free beings,” Mr. Smith answered, nodding. “But I do like to think that the universe has a plan. That it allowed me the opportunity to meet my wife, have my son, and even encounter you, Dr. Hans.”
Hange smiled politely.
Bullshit , she thinks.
She replayed the memory in her mind so well that Hange barely registered the figure that had just rounded the corner.
“Ow!”
Hange yelped as she found herself falling—and she would’ve, had it not been for the other individual’s quick instincts, grabbing her by the arms and steadying her body before she could hit the ground.
“Sorry, are you okay?”
The voice was deep and feminine at the same time. Hange blinked as she pushed her glasses up her nose, tilting her head to the side at the sight of the woman, who gingerly removed her hands from Hange’s arms.
“I’m okay,” Hange said, grinning in order to prove her point. “Sorry, that’s my bad. I wasn’t looking where I was going.”
“No,” the woman responded, shaking her head. “I’m also at fault; I was lost in thought.”
Hange laughed. “At least we’re on the same page.” Briefly, she noticed the woman’s ID. “You’re also a professor!”
The woman smiled. “Yeah. I’m from the Humanities department.”
“I’m Hange, I’m from the Science and Engineering department!” Hange told her excitedly. “Nice to meet you!”
“My name’s Nanaba Zacharius,” she introduced shortly. “It’s a pleasure to meet you as well.”
Familiar, her heart whispered. Hange ignored the thought, pushing it away to the back of her mind. It’s been happening far too-often that she decided to just chalk it to a weird sense of deja vu.
Nanaba flashed Hange a small smile. “Are you on the way to your faculty room?”
“I am!” Hange beamed brightly, her voice increasing in volume as she spoke enthusiastically.
“Oh, I was headed to my faculty room, but I just remembered that I left my wallet on my friend’s desk a while ago. It’s why I was lost in thought,” Nanaba told her by way of explanation. She laughed lightly after. “You don’t mind if I walk with you, do you?”
Hange shook her head, happy to have such nice company. “Not at all!”
Nanaba grinned before they started walking towards the faculty room in relative silence. They had just passed by two hallways when Nanaba broke the silence.
“Sorry, Hange, was it?” Hange hummed in approval. “I can’t help but feel as if I’ve met you before. You’re really familiar.”
Same, Hange thought, but she shrugged it away. “Newspapers, maybe?” she replied instead. “I used to be around a lot.”
This was, of course, an understatement considering that her image had been on multiple billboards at one point in her life.
“No, it’s not that. It’s more like . . . never mind.”
“Tell me,” Hange prodded, lightly jabbing Nanaba’s stomach light-heartedly. Almost as if Hange was used to doing it. Too smooth to be a coincidence.
When she realized what she had just done to a woman she had met just a few minutes ago, Hange’s eyes widened slightly in guilt.
However, before she could apologize, Nanaba laughed. “It’s fine, don’t worry about it! It’s just, I felt like we can be really close. I mean . . .” she paused, tapping a finger against her chin in thought, “I still feel like that. Which is weird, considering we just met. Sorry, Hange.”
A warm feeling blossomed in Hange’s chest as she beamed sincerely.
While she was friendly with a lot of teachers, she didn’t really think they were close enough friends. With Nanaba, it was different. Hange had just met this woman and yet she felt as if she could just grab Nanaba by the arm and take her out to a meal in a restaurant, or perhaps go shopping.
“No worries. I feel the same way.”
She woke up covered in a thick blanket in a room too clean to be her own.
Hange’s memories of what had happened the night prior after she bid Erwin goodbye were a bit hazy, if not a blur. Hange recalled trying to convince Levi to sing, and he did (once. Half-heartedly. She convinces herself that it’s still a victory). She remembered showing him a video of her playing electric guitar when she was twenty.
The events that followed after were just a blank slate in her memories.
She groaned as she sat up, trying to ignore the throbbing migraine that started to build at the area between her eyes. Hange blinked. Once, twice, thrice. Slowly, she opened her eyes, trying to adjust her eyes to the dim light in the room.
Hange looked at the bedside table that contained nothing but a glass of water and medicine. Automatically, she smiled, already knowing who had left them there.
Levi.
The name came to mind so smoothly that Hange had to pause in order to allow herself the opportunity to contemplate his existence. She was right, after all. He really was kind.
Hange drank the medicine without hesitation, pushing the covers away from her body as she slowly regained the strength to stand up. She felt a little guilty, knowing that Levi was the type of person to prefer things neat and tidy. And there she was, soiling his sheets with clothes she wore to a karaoke bar.
She supposed she should thank him. After all, it was the least she could do.
Her feet landed on the cold floor softly. Hange made her way to the one of the doors, hoping that it was the exit. However, she was greeted by Levi’s impeccably clean bathroom. The scent of his shampoo mingled with the soft smell of his soa; it lingered in the air, creating a unique fragrance that was just so . . .
Levi.
Hange felt her cheeks become warmer, and she immediately closed the door, heading towards the other door that she was now sure was the exit. Gently, she reached for the doorknob and opened it, ready to apologize and thank Levi for the kindness he had given her.
Instead of being greeted by an annoyed man with crossed arms, she is met with the sight of him sprawled on the couch, his eyebrows furrowed more so than usual. Levi was groaning in what seemed to be pain, and a sheen layer of sweat lined his forehead.
“Fuck,” Hange said out loud. Her eyes widened as she took in his appearance.
Immediately, she approached him out of concern. He was pale even in sleep, his eyes scrunched together. When Hange saw the brief glimmer of tears in his eyes, she knew that was when she had to intervene.
“Levi,” she said softly, placing a gentle hand on his arm. Slowly, she kneeled beside the couch. The carpet was soft against her skin.
“Levi, wake up.”
He doesn’t rise, but he mumbled a name that she swore was her own. She taps him, trying to get him to wake from his nightmare. Levi doesn’t respond, but he repeats his mutterings louder for her to hear.
“Hange ,” he whispered, and Hange felt her eyes begin to water.
Probably a hangover, she said to herself as she wiped the tears away from her eyes. I’m just too sensitive.
But she knew a hangover wouldn’t explain the twinge of pain that jolted in her heart, the guilt that churned in her stomach, and the longing that encompassed the entirety of her body. She placed a hand on his cheek, her touch light.
The third time he says her name, Hange shouts his.
“Levi!”
His eyes shot open, and Hange took in the panic written all over his face. He’s panting, and tears were in his eyes as he looked from one side to the other.
“Hey,” she told him, “you were having a nightmare.”
He stared at her, not saying a word. Automatically, Hange smiled at him as she ran a hand through his hair soothingly, as if she had done it a million times before.
“It’s okay though, you’re awake now.”
She allowed him a few moments of silence. They sit there—him on the couch with his eyes closed and her gliding her fingers through his hair.
Soon, Levi sat up. He needed no words or gestures for Hange to know that he wanted her to sit beside him. She does so willingly, plopping beside him before placing a hand on his back.
“You wanna talk about it?” Hange asked, tilting her head to the side to get a better look at his face. “I’ll listen.”
For a while, he stared at a spot in the carpet as a response. He looked like he was trying to find words to speak, so Hange doesn’t force him, doesn’t coax him to talk faster. Instead, she sat still, waiting for him so she could listen.
After a few minutes, he looked at her. Hange smiled, trying to appear welcoming.
“Hange,” he said.
Hange blinked in slight confusion when he said her name for the fifth time. Levi placed a hand over hers, and Hange’s heart leapt in her chest. Actively, she ignored it in favor of her concern for him.
“Yes?” she whispered, knowing full-well how uncertain her tone was.
Slowly, Levi took Hange’s hand, placing it on his cheek. He brought her closer to him, engulfing her in his warmth. She felt the couch’s armrest against her back, but she didn't freeze against him. Instead, Hange shifted the position of her hand from his cheek, leaned into his frame, and closed her eyes.
He placed his mouth beside her ear, whispered the words “You’re alive,” and finally allowed himself to sob into her embrace.
It was as if the universe had decided to conspire in her favor so that she would meet the only person that could make her heart feel emotions she never dared feel before.
There is no such thing as coincidence, there is only the inevitable. Bullshit, Hange had thought.
. . . until she met Levi Ackerman.
Because in his arms, Hange knew there was nowhere else she needed to be.