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The first thing that Levi becomes aware of when he wakes up in the morning is the pain or numbness in his legs. It’s a constant in his life now, on his mind when he wakes up and on his mind when he goes to bed.
It doesn’t bother him. He’s used to being hurt and feeling it, and there are new medicines coming out that help. It doesn’t hurt as long as he doesn’t move them too much, but he can’t walk for more than 10 minutes at a time.
Levi used to be able to live alone. He had his own small apartment in the scouts, and later, his own house. Of course, he was never really alone, not until a few years after Erwin died and Hange stopped checking in on him once every hour, but he had grown accustomed to being on his own when everything was at it's peak. His squad, busy with planning and taking care of the Marleans that come on the ships, left him with free time that he had never had before. He had gotten used to being alone in those four years instead of having the ever-present company of Erwin in the corner writing letters to families that lost loved ones, or Erwin reading a book next to him to make sure he falls asleep. He had to learn to do those on his own.
Now he needs someone to come over twice a day to make sure he’s all right. To make sure he didn’t fall down the stairs or in the shower, to help him with something he wasn’t able to do on his own.
And of course, Levi wasn’t going to get a stranger to do it, and the only other volunteer that had the space was Onyankopon.
Levi wasn’t necessarily close with the man before The Rumbling. He was a friend of Hange so Levi tolerated him, but they never really spoke. And now Onyankopon stops by his house several times a day, and Levi catches himself being domestic with him. It’s just strange.
Levi has never known what a normal life would be like. Levi never had anyone to be domestic with, truly. In the Underground all he knew was violence, sleeping on the streets with two of his best friends but never having a home with them. And then, the scouts. Isabel and Farlan had passed and the next to come was Erwin and Hange. Hange couldn’t really be domestic with anyone back then. Never took things seriously, really. He had small moments with Erwin late at night in their offices, the only time Levi could truly relax, but his entire life has been war.
Now he’s by himself again. He finally has a home that isn’t constantly in danger of being attacked by Titans or humans alike. He has interests he can indulge in and time that he can spend. He has a home. And he has nobody to share it with.
Levi thinks that Onyankopon is in the same boat as him. While people are noticeably more understanding, The Rumbling left a barrier between Eldians and Marleans that some will never be able to bypass. Onyankopon is not treated like others here. He has friends and acquaintances that he talks to when he’s in town, but no actual friends. At the very least, Levi has a semblance of family. Mikasa comes to visit, Armin spends a lot of his time here when he’s free, Jean and Connie less often but they still do come. Gabi and Falco, too. Onyankopon only had Hange. He doesn’t have them anymore.
Levi can tell when it starts happening. He can tell when something more than toleration appears between the two men. It’s when Levi goes out on his own for once and buys a record player. He doesn’t tell Onyankopon anything, doesn’t ask, but the very next day the man shows up with a few records in his hand. “I thought you would like them,” Was all that he said.
And Levi did.
The advancements that both Marley and Paradis had made and swapped with one another throughout the interactions they had led to things as beautiful as this; soft music that reminds Levi of a sturdy man in his kitchen making him lunch. Warm music reminds him of a man staying longer than he should to make sure that Levi eats his food. Sad music that reminds him of a man sitting on the side of the bathtub or his bed, helping him take care of himself.
It’s all just a big mess that he doesn’t know what to do with. He’s never had anyone in a situation where they weren’t constantly fighting for their lives. He’s always had a reason to distance himself, and now he doesn’t, but he’s doing it anyway.
Mikasa told him he’s punishing himself.
He thinks she’s right.
“Dang,” Onyankopon comments from the window. “It’s raining.”
Levi glances up. Onankopon has the curtains pulled back slightly, enough for Levi to see the rain pouring from the sky outside. Not that he couldn’t hear it. He hums, looking back down at what he was writing.
“Do you have an umbrella?” Onyankopon asks, still looking out of the window.
“Just stay here.” Levi declares, writing nonsense on the paper to make it look like he’s busy when Onyankopon looks at him. “You’re walking back. Even with an umbrella you’ll get all wet.” He murmurs, giving up on the letter and setting the pen down on top of it. “If you get wet, you’ll get sick, and I don’t feel like shitting out my insides in the bathroom for three days.”
That startles a laugh out of Onyankopon. He lets go of the curtain and it falls back into place. “Yeah, alright,” He says fondly, leaning against the wall next to the window.
Levi stares at him, fingers twitching, and Onyankopon stares back.
One second.
Two seconds.
“What do you want for dinner?”
“I can cook dinner myself,” Levi narrows his eyes at the man.
Onyankopon only raises an eyebrow, lips quirking up. “I never said you couldn’t. But I like cooking for you, so what do you want?”
Levi blinks, then looks down at the letter on his desk. “Something with cheese sounds nice,” He says vaguely, but Onyankopon only nods and goes into the kitchen.
Levi breathes for a few moments by himself, listening when music starts drifting throughout the house. Onyankopon has put on a record, but Levi can still hear him bustling about the kitchen.
Levi picks up his pen and continues writing.
I think that you would be glad people are finally moving on. I know you didn’t want us to dwell. Your plan didn’t go exactly as you wanted, but we’re all figuring it out. I’m figuring it out.
He debates on scribbling it out, before he reminds himself that nobody would ever get to read this but him.
He folds the letter and puts it in an envelope and seals it, then unlocks his wheelchair and makes his way to the kitchen.
Onyankopon cuts vegetables at the counter, knife moving swiftly up and down, his fingers keeping away from it. Levi feels wary anyway, but when Onyankopon sees him coming into the kitchen he slows his pace.
“Did you wash your hands?”
“Yes, Levi, I washed my hands.” Onyankopon says, voice soft.
“Good.” Levi mumbles, pulling up next to the record player. It’s about halfway through the first side, so he’ll turn it around and keep replacing it until Onyankopon is finished. He never lets him help, but Levi is a lousy cook anyway.
“So do you want to drop that off tomorrow?” Onyankopon asks, and it takes Levi a moment to realize that he’s talking about the letter.
“It would have been his birthday, so yes.” Levi confirms, and Onyankopn nods.
“I want to go early, if you don’t mind. If we go later we’ll run into people.”
“Roger that, Captain,” Onyankopon teases. Levi rolls his eyes and watches as Onyankopon brushes the diced vegetables into a pot with his knife.
Dinner is a quiet affair, much like most of their meals; Onyankopon loves to talk, most of the time, but he also knows that Levi likes to sit in people's company in silence sometimes. Though Levi doesn't respond too much, anyway, so he can chatter away anytime he likes and Levi can sit and listen. It's a dynamic that works easily, and well.
"The rain isn't going to let up tonight," Levi comments as he dries the dishes Onyankopon hands him after they've eaten.
Onyakopon sighs. "Seems like it. I'll have to tough it out, I suppose."
"You can just stay the night." Levi says like it's obvious. "You'll have to get here early, anyway."
Onyankopon stops and stares at him, but Levi holds his hand out expectantly for the next dish to dry.
"What?" Levi asks flatly after some time of silence.
"You've never done that before." Onyankopon says simply, handing over a plate.
"Done what before?"
"Invited me to stay." He says, turning off the tap. "Usually you want me out of your hair as soon as possible."
Levi hums and hands him the now dry plate so he can put it up, but he says no more. He doesn't say that maybe he wants him here, so that he doesn't really have to think. He wants him here, needs him here, on the day tomorrow. He thinks Onyankopon knows it, too, because he doesn't say anything either. When they leave the kitchen he asks where Levi keeps his blankets, then collects them in his arms.
"The couch or your bedroom floor?" Onyankopon asks, looking quite ridiculous trying to hold onto all the fabric in his arms and look around it to talk to Levi at the same time.
Levi blinks. Obviously Onyankopon would prefer to sleep on the couch, right? Sure, it might be too small for him to really stretch out, but it would surely be more comfortable than the floor in Levi's room.
Not to mention Levi hasn't slept with someone else in the room for years. He'd like to keep it that way. Nightmares keep him up for hours and hours so books line his walls, piled next to his bed for something to do. He doesn't need to keep Onyankopon up by turning his lamp on to read since he can't sleep.
"The couch," Levi tells him, and Onyankopon very ungracefully plops the things in his arms on the couch. Levi watches him for a moment, then glances toward the window. He can't really hear the rain anymore, but he doesn't say anything, because he doesn't want Onyankopon to leave.
"Do you need help with anything else? Getting dressed or taking a shower?" Onyankopon asks, rolling his sleeves down, getting comfortable.
Levi shakes his head and Onyankopon takes this response easily, not pushing or insisting. He always makes sure to offer, but if Levi says he can do it he lets him. It's nice, because people in public never do that for him. They think he's capable of less because of his disabilities now, and while he is in several regards he can still function just fine. He can take his own pants off and wash his own ass, thank you very much.
"Goodnight, Levi." Onyankopon calls out to him as he begins to leave the room. His voice has a touch of something that Levi can't quite place because he's never really heard it before. He has a feeling it's been reserved for a long time, reigned in like a bird in a cage for some time.
"Goodnight, Onyankopon." Levi murmurs, then makes his way to his own room. The lamp in the living room only shuts off once Levi has closed his door.
“You’re going to get sick.” Levi says, narrowing his eyes as he inspects Onyankopon, who stands in the middle of his room in the largest clothes that Levi had appropriate for the weather. They don’t fit Onyankopon very well, clearly, showing off his stomach and hugging his torso tightly.
“I can just wear what I slept in, Levi,” Onyankopon says, and Levi shakes his head.
“You sweat when you sleep. It’s dirty.”
“We can go to my house and I can get some clothes after we go,” Onyankopon offers. “These are really tight, Levi, and we can’t just stay here.”
They could, Levi thinks, and the closer they get to leaving the more he wants to stay anyway. They say it gets easier with time, but with every year that passes, Levi struggles to get himself out of bed every time a birthday he once celebrated passes, or an anniversary he once enjoyed starts to feel like a constant cold spray of water on his face, in his eyes and down his legs.
“Fine,” Levi says, and Onyankopon wastes no time in removing the too-tight shirt from his person, draping it over his arm to fold it in half and then into fours, just how he knows Levi likes it.
"I'll be fast." He says, setting Levi's shirt back and putting his own back on.
Levi watches him, then shamelessly meets Onyankopons eyes when he's done.
Levi lives on the outskirts of Shiganshina. Not too far out, but not too far in, either. He has a few neighbors and it isn't too much of a trek to get to town for groceries, but he isn't crowded so much when he goes outside that it's suffocating.
The first few years Levi went with Mikasa and Armin, they had to show him the way to the tree. A few have grown around it since then, but that tree is still the largest. Still the brightest, yet it always looks sad. A symbol of what lies beneath, Levi thinks bitterly every time he stares at it.
"Someone cleaned it," Onyankopon mentions as they stare down at the gravestone.
"Armin," Levi says without much thought. He thinks back to when they were teenagers, cleaning the barracks for inspection. Eren and Armin always did the best, which is partially why Armin was always one of Levi's favorites, back then. Sometimes Levi can barely look at him, into his eyes, because it reminds him too much of Erwin, too much of Eren, too much of everyone.
Levi looks at Eren's name engraved in the stone, then rubs his hand over the sealed letter in his pocket.
Happy Birthday, you brat, he thinks as he takes it out and sets it upon the flat space of dirt before it. Onyankopon shuffles around, then hands Levi a lighter.
Levi lights his letter on fire, and they sit and watch as the edges crumble to ash, the flames coiling into one another slowly. Levi's words burn with it, just like the year before, and just like they will a year from now and a year from then.
"He wasn't a bad kid, you know," Levi says, narrowing his eyes against the smoke that rises. He wants Onyankopon to know, to really know. "He and Jean used to get into fights over petty shit in the cafeteria." He wants people to know there was more to him, at some point. He was a good person. "When they were in training I heard them talking about joining the scouts. And their dreams. They told you about how Armin was with the sea, didn't they?"
Onyankopon lets him talk, nodding occasionally. When Levi mentions Isabel, then Hange, Onyankopon puts a hand on his shoulder, thumb rubbing comforting circles as he talks about any story he can remember. When he helped Armin cut his hair, the first time he met Sasha.
It's not an easy visit. When Levi's voice becomes raspy he realizes just how long he's been speaking for. He's thirsty, terribly so, and the letter has long since been ash, blown away by the breeze.
They’re closer to Onyankopon’s house now instead of Levi’s, so Onyankopon leads him there in silence.
Levi has never been to Onyankopon’s house before. He rarely leaves his house, and he never goes so deep into the town to go near Onyankopon’s.
It isn’t what he expected, but it makes perfect sense, too. It’s a simple house connected to other houses running down the street. The windows are open, a single plant on the windowsill. His curtains are thick and brown, but they’re pulled back, clearly there for the decoration and not to actually block out any light. When Levi follows Onyankopon inside, the house is cluttered. It’s messy, but in an endearing way. Not from blatant laziness, but from a sense that this house is loved and well-lived in. It’s warm. It smells like different spices and food and it feels truly like a home that Onyankopon has made for himself. Levi feels slightly envious of it. His own house may be his own, a home he has also made for himself, but there are no real signs. It’s too clean, too dull. Nothing is hung up on the walls or on the top shelves in cupboards. Reminders of what things have become in every room. Sometimes it makes him ill, or just somber. Like now.
“All right,” Onyankopon comes out of the door he had disappeared into, weaning new clothes. A dark orange sweater that compliments him nicely, and a comfortable-looking pair of grey pants. He also has clothes draped over his arm, which he promptly dumps on Levi’s lap.
“What are these for?”
“I spent all day at your house yesterday, so you’re staying at mine.” Onyankopon declares with a charming but smug smile.
The bastard knows Levi won’t say no. He supposes it’s only fair.
“Bathroom is the second door to the right!” Onyankopon calls as Levi moves down the hallway and Onyanpokpon to the room that breaks off into a kitchen.
When Levi gets into the bathroom, he lies the clothes on the edge of the bathtub to inspect them before he puts them on. Both items are made of silk, or at least some type of smooth material. So Levi feels cleaner. They’re also cool colors and they cover basically everything, not too obnoxious.
Levi thinks it’s exactly what Levi would have picked for himself to wear, but he’s never told Onyankopon his clothing preferences.
His brain whirs to life as he changes, taking longer than he usually would, and then he leaves the bathroom to go into the kitchen.
The smell of spices wafts through the house, getting stronger the closer he gets to the kitchen. It’s familiar as one of Levi’s favorite meals that he doesn’t have very often, because having favorite meals too often makes them feel less special.
Onyankopon is stirring something when Levi comes into the room. He stops at the doorway to watch him for a moment. To watch the way his eyebrows furrow as he reads the French words and tries to decipher which ingredient it is, the way he purses his lips after he smells the dish and goes to put more seasoning in. The way he turns his head to notice Levi and his face immediately lights up.
“I think it’s almost done.” He starts off with, glancing down at it. “You like it with more of the red spice, right? Because I added more, but I can add more of the others if you want it to be evened out.”
He looks back at Levi expectantly, and Levi feels like he was just given whiplash.
It’s a special meal, so he should make this day special, right?
He reminds himself of what Mikasa told him. He has no reason to distance himself, nor to pretend he doesn’t care.
When Levi comes closer to Onyankopon, the man simply raises a brow at him, confused by his lack of response and the sudden close proximity.
Levi turns his wheelchair to face him, locks his wheels, and then braces a hand on the counter to stand up.
“Levi? What are you-?”
Onyankopon reaches out, seemingly on instinct, to grab Levi’s waist and steady him, then seems to have an internal debate on if he should be touching Levi because he knows he doesn’t usually like it. Levi waits for him to look at him, and then.
He leans in and kisses Onyankopon. Just a peck, tender and soft, barely even there.
Onyankopon’s lips part on a hitched breath, and Levi moves back. Sits down, and Onyankopon watches him, processing, as Levi unlocks his wheels and, with a little maneuvering, situations himself in front of the dining table.
When Onyankopon just stares at him, Levi raises one of his eyebrows, as if oblivious to what he had just done.
Onyankopon’s loud, bright laughter fills the kitchen, and it sounds the same as the room smells, as well as the food on the stove is sure to taste.
And Levi thinks back to his letter and decides that, yes, they will be all right.
The rest of the night is quiet, barely a word spoken, but the emotion in the air is clear whenever their eyes meet from across the table, their legs accidentally hitting one another's as they shift.
Throughout it all Levi just thinks, I have no reason to be afraid of losing you any longer.