Work Text:
Last night
The barracks was alternating with training grounds, constantly repeating the cycle. The creaking floor of the hallways no longer cut through ears the way it had done during first days here. The sun still shone its rays, the birds kept singing the same way in the mornings. It seemed that the world was the same as before — quiet and calm, without a single threat. But even without the titans, people still existed. They existed, trying to bend the bars of the cage and break free. But what was that freedom? Was it a sense of security? Or was it a quiet night, when there was no need to go out on watch for what hid on the other side of the wall?
Ink stains spread across the paper, turning the words into quivering smears. Emotions overwhelmed the parchment, which was now hideously ugly and ruined. And only the stars could see the tear-filled eyes. But they didn't run down the cheeks, only glistened, reflecting the moonlight. The irises rose upward, peering at the moon behind the cracked glass of the window. The floating storm clouds made it clear that tomorrow would not be favorable. And though this was not her first expedition, but for the first time, the girl could not shake off the haunting feeling of bitterness. She knew she would not return. Knew she would not see this room again, would not sleep on the hard bed, and would not be able to gaze at him from somewhere afar.
Yes, perhaps it was foolishness from the beginning: to wake up every day hoping for the best, to live trying to save others, not realizing how to save oneself. Everyone made mistakes, everyone regretted, but you can't bring back those who have gone. You can only meet them: letting go of everything, leaving behind only a pathetic, weak shell. Would one sacrifice have benefited humanity? Or maybe even to a dozen other people? To die in such a way that you would not be forgotten... A terrifying dream that accompanied many.
Trembling hands once again dipped the tip of the nib in ink. Was the fear of death worth being ashamed of? It had consumed many, but it was not the catalyzer. The quill drew thin lines of letters, turning the new parchment into a letter. The very note that was to be found after death. Her lips felt something salty on them. Was this what reconciliation with fate tasted like?
Fingers leisurely folded the paper, forcing it to surrender to a few neat creases. Could a person sleep when they realized that tomorrow was their last day? The answer was drowned in the quiet sobs that filled the silence.
***
And there he was again, sitting on the horse in front. The commander was shouting his speech again. The words that had once given peace of mind and confidence were now only fading, unaffected by the strings of the heart. The clanking of the gate chain echoed in the ears like the striking of a funeral bell. The riders around were silent, gazing into the horizon where inevitability awaited them. She took another sneaky glance at him — his back was straight, his movements precise, as if calibrated in advance. Levi never doubted. Or he just didn't show it. His black, immaculately clean hair fluttered playfully by the wind outside.
Her fisted fingers grew cold, the nails digging into the skin. The cold air burned her lungs, and for a moment she thought the world around her was quieter. Only the creak of the saddle, the hoarse breathing of the horses, and her own heart beating in a rapid melody of fear.
«I'm not coming back.»
This thought rang in her mind again, like an echo that was impossible to escape. Levi turned his head slightly toward the girl. It seemed that he didn't just notice her gaze — he read her thoughts. She averted her eyes sharply, but it was too late. Her cheeks flamed, and her hands gripped the reins tighter. Her throat was dry, and something inside her froze.
Her own weakness made her stupidly frustrated, but she couldn't look into his eyes again. Why now exactly? Why was he seeing her when her greatest desire was to disappear? The feeling of his gaze wouldn't go away. It stung without hiding, and a mute question lingered in the air.
— Advance! — The Commander's voice seemed muffled.
The dull stomping of hoofs filled one's thoughts for a long time. And then, in the distance, distant silhouettes appeared: tall, unnaturally curved... And moving towards them, swaying with each step. Fingers clenched the handles of the blades, fear gave way to something else. The daze was gone, now there was only movement — sharp, measured. No possibility of error.
The ground trembled from heavy footsteps. People's screams were cut off by the wind. The expedition was no longer a trip outside the walls — it had become a real battle. The mind was barely obeying, yet chaos still flashed before the eyes. How did fear feel when you decided not to experience it anymore? The body moved on its own, unwittingly delaying death.
— Move! — his scream pierced the very heart.
She heard it too late: the world had turned upside down, the ground was approaching extremely fast. But it wasn't the titan that had knocked the girl off her flight path. It was the first time Levi had touched her. He looked the same: cold, focused, fast, as if he was not a man but a weapon. But even in his eyes there was a spark.
Everything lasted a moment, but his touch still burned. Why was her body trembling more than it had when she'd clashed with the enemy? Levi no longer turned round, and she no longer stared at his back.
***
The air still smelled like blood and sweat, but the ground beneath their feet was solid. They were back. The girl slowly slid off the saddle. Her whole body ached, but it was something inside her that stung the most. As if on automatic, she walked into the musty room, fumbled for a letter in her coat pocket, and crumpled it up. The paper trembled in her fingers. Should it be torn, or maybe thrown away? But she just squeezed it harder.
Footsteps echoed outside the door. She flinched, tucking the letter back in her pocket, but no one came in. Just stood on the doorstep for a few long seconds... And then left.
She froze like that, feeling the silence crushing her from all sides. She had to die. She should have. But instead she stood here, in this small room, frozen between past and future.
How does it feel like — waking up the next day when you were sure it wasn't going to happen?