Archive of Our Own

The tea was still too hot when Erwin decided to start annoying him.

Levi could tell by the way he held the cup. It was not something anyone else would have noticed, but he had spent years watching that man over maps, reports, piles of bodies accounted for on sheets of paper, and decisions that would cost more lives than either of them cared to remember. Erwin held the cup between his fingers, lingering before taking a sip. Levi knew that silence well. It was the same one he used when he was about to say something that would probably be irritating. Now, however, there were no Titans beyond the walls, no soldiers waiting for orders, no entire humanity reduced to the miserable stretch of land they believed was the last habitable piece of the world. There was only a tea shop still closed to the public, the smell of new wood mingling with the leaves Levi had spent the morning sorting, and a former commander sitting across the counter, perfectly comfortable taking up space in his life again and, apparently, determined to recover the old habit of sticking his nose where it was not wanted.

“It’s good,” Erwin finally said.

Levi looked up from the cloth he was running over the counter. “I know.”

“You could simply accept the compliment.”

“You could simply drink.”

Erwin drank. The small smile at the corner of his mouth did not disappear, and Levi decided to ignore it while he folded the cloth and checked for the third time a surface that was already perfectly clean. The soft opening would be the next day. He still did not understand why they had decided to call it a soft opening, considering half the people invited would probably show up, drink for free, and come back two days later for the official opening expecting the same treatment. Armin had promised to bring Mikasa. Jean and Connie had already warned him they would arrive early, a threat Levi did not know whether to interpret as an offer to help or an intention to eat everything they found. Falco and Gabi would certainly show up. Onyankopon had received an invitation too, although Levi did not even know which part of the world he was in at that moment.

Or with whom.

“And Hange?”

Levi’s hand stopped over a cup long enough to give him away to someone who had known him for so many years. “What about Hange?”

“Is she coming tomorrow, or has she decided the soft opening of your tea shop isn’t worth interrupting her great expedition around the world?”

Levi slowly lifted his eyes, already recognizing the tone. “I don’t know. Hange doesn’t owe me travel reports, in case that’s your next question.”

Erwin nodded, bringing the cup to his mouth. “I see. So you don’t know when she’s coming back, where she is now, or whether she intends to show up tomorrow.”

“Don’t start.”

“I’m only trying to keep up with the situation.”

“Tch. You’re trying to be irritating.”

“That too.”

Levi narrowed his eyes. “This is exactly why I should’ve left you dead.”

Erwin’s laughter still sounded strange. Levi had spent far too long convinced he would never hear it again. Sometimes all it took was a gesture, or that ridiculous way he raised an eyebrow when he believed he was right, to pull Levi out of the present for a second. He still did not know exactly what to do with that man standing in front of him after he had learned how to live with his absence.

Ymir had given them a wish.

One for each of them.

Levi still remembered the girl standing before him in that impossible place, surrounded by an endless expanse of light and sand. He had not known how to explain where he was, nor how long he had spent there. He only knew the Rumbling had ended, Eren was dead and, for the first time in two thousand years, that child seemed free. Ymir had not spoken. She had not needed to. Levi had simply known he could ask for one thing.

He had thought of the dead.

He had thought of Mother. Furlan and Isabel. Petra. Oluo. Eld. Gunther. Mike. Nanaba. Every face he had learned to carry without allowing the weight to keep him from moving forward. He could have chosen any of them and perhaps spent the rest of his life wondering why one had deserved to return while the others remained dead.

In the end, he had chosen Erwin.

Only later had he learned that Hange had made exactly the same wish.

Maybe a single wish had not been enough to bring him back. Maybe it had taken both of them choosing the same person. Levi would never know.

Not even Armin had managed to come up with a satisfying theory for how a man who had been dead for years could simply wake up breathing among the ruins of Shiganshina, his body restored to the state it had been in shortly before the suicide charge, missing an arm and carrying an enormous number of questions. Hange had cried. Levi had not. He had simply stood there staring at him for so long that Erwin, still confused, had asked whether something was wrong.

Levi had answered that he was still ugly.

“Onyankopon wrote to me last week,” Erwin commented, interrupting the memory. “They were in the south.”

Levi went back to arranging the cups. “Great.”

“According to him, Hange tried to enter a closed reserve because she wanted to observe some species of lizard.”

“Of course.”

“They were kicked out.”

“It would be surprising if they weren’t.”

“Then they headed for the coast. Apparently they spent a few days there.”

“Erwin.”

“Yes?”

Levi carefully set the cup on the counter. “Why the hell are you telling me this?”

This time the smile came fully, unbearably satisfied. “I thought you might like to know.”

“If I wanted to know where Four-Eyes was sticking her nose, I would’ve asked.”

“Of course.”

“And stop talking like that.”

“Like what?”

Levi narrowed his eyes.

Erwin managed to keep a serious expression for a few seconds, but the corner of his mouth eventually betrayed what he was trying to hide when he raised the cup to his lips. Levi wanted to kick him. The irritation came easily, and he realized he had even missed that. For years, thinking of Erwin had meant returning to that choice on the rooftop, to the blood running down the stretcher and the certainty that he would never again have the chance to call him an asshole. Now the bastard was sitting in his tea shop, drinking some of the best leaves Levi had bought and using the second chance he had been given to interfere in his life.

“Does she write to you?” Erwin asked.

“She does.”

“Often?”

“None of your business.”

Levi pulled another cup closer and began inspecting it for a nonexistent stain. Hange wrote. Postcards, letters, pages torn from notebooks, scraps of paper bought in places whose names Levi could barely pronounce. Some messages were four pages long, describing a plant or animal in a level of detail no sane person would ever have requested. Others contained only two lines complaining about the food, the heat, or some filthy lodging that was probably only filthy by Levi’s standards. Once, he had received a photograph of Hange and Onyankopon in front of a beach, both sunburned and grinning like idiots. On the back, Hange had written that Levi would hate the sand.

He kept every letter in a box in his bedroom. The photograph too.

“From what Onyankopon tells me, she seems to be enjoying every minute of the trip,” Erwin commented, turning the cup between his fingers. “I imagine she’s trying to see in two years everything she spent an entire lifetime unable to.”

“That’s what she wanted ever since we found out there was something beyond the walls. Now she can stick her nose wherever she damn well pleases without having to ask anyone’s permission.”

“And you seem quite pleased about that.”

Levi shot him a suspicious look. “Where are you going with this?”

“Nowhere. I just find it curious.” Erwin set the cup on the saucer and met his eyes. “You seem genuinely happy that Hange finally has the freedom she always wanted. I simply haven’t decided whether you’re equally happy about the part where that freedom keeps her on the other side of the world.”

Levi narrowed his eyes. “You’re trying very hard to die again.”

Hange had spent most of her life wanting to reach things that existed too far beyond her grasp. First it had been the world beyond the walls, a promise no one even knew was real, then they discovered that the world did exist, was enormous, and was full of people interested in killing them. When they finally crossed the ocean, they had not done it to explore. They went to Marley to work, negotiate, and search for a way out of a war that already seemed inevitable. Even while standing in cities they had never seen before, they were still counting enemies, discussing plans, and calculating how much time they had left.

Now there were no walls keeping Hange from leaving, no rank demanding she stay. She could cross deserts, enter forests that did not appear on any map from Paradis, discover enormous cities, try strange foods, take apart machines she probably should not touch, and chase animals that would have been much happier without attracting her curiosity. She could board a ship simply because she wanted to find out where it would end up.

Hange wanted all of that. She always had.

Levi would never be the man who asked Hange to want less. Even if missing her was a heavy thing to carry.

“She’s doing exactly what she wanted,” Levi replied, ending the subject in the only way that mattered to him. “Spent her whole life wanting to know what existed beyond the walls. It’d be shit to get this far and still be trapped by something.”

Erwin watched him over the rim of his cup for a few seconds. “That still isn’t what I asked. I know perfectly well what Hange wanted. I’m asking about you.”

“And I’m not your subordinate anymore, so I don’t have to answer questions you ask just to amuse yourself at my expense.”

“You say that now as if rank ever made any difference. When you were my subordinate, you ignored half my questions too and answered the other half with threats.”

“Then you should’ve learned by now that insisting doesn’t improve your chances of getting an answer. You died smart, Erwin. Try not to waste that now that you’ve been given another opportunity.”

Erwin laughed, finally abandoning the subject, and Levi took the opportunity to collect the empty cup before he found another way to mention Hange. It was well past time to kick him out. He still needed to check the deliveries, arrange the tables, and decide whether he trusted Connie anywhere near the dishes the next day. Probably not. He could put him at the door to greet the guests, Jean would complain if he had to work beside him, which made the idea considerably better.

“I suppose that’s an invitation for me to leave,” Erwin commented as he put on his coat. “Don’t worry. I’ve already taken enough of the future great proprietor of this respectable tea shop’s time.”

“You’ve been sitting here drinking for free for almost an hour. If you intend to make a habit of it, I’ll start charging you double.”

Erwin finished adjusting his coat and Levi followed the movement without meaning to. There was still a quiet caution to certain gestures, especially when Erwin stood after remaining seated for too long or needed to reach for something with his only hand. It was not weakness, Levi knew that body far too well to confuse the two. He was still adjusting. Erwin had returned with exactly the marks he carried when he died, and now he had to learn how to live in a world that had moved years ahead without waiting for him. Sometimes he asked questions about ordinary things any child knew. Other times, he spent too long staring at a machine, a new map, or a photograph of some place he had spent his youth believing he would never see. Levi never commented when he noticed. Erwin never commented when Levi noticed.

Near the door, he stopped with his hand on the knob. “Seriously now, I hope Hange shows up tomorrow. I think she’d like to see this place full of people after hearing you talk about this tea shop all those years ago.”

Levi leaned his hip against the counter. “If she shows up, she shows up. I’m not sending a search party after Four-Eyes because she decided to miss the soft opening.”

“Of course not.” Erwin gave him one last look, and this time had the decency not to smile. “But I imagine you’d rather look at that door tomorrow and see Hange walking through it.”

“I imagine you’d rather walk through that door now while I’m still letting you do it on your own.”

“Message received. I’ll see you tomorrow, Levi. I even promise to pay for the tea, if that makes my presence less offensive.”

“Doubt you have enough money.”

Erwin let out a low laugh and opened the door, but stopped again when the cold late-afternoon gust swept into the room. His eyes traveled over the empty tables, the organized shelves behind the counter, and the boxes Levi still needed to unpack. When he looked back at him, all the teasing that had carried their conversation was gone.

“It turned out well,” he said. “The tea shop. I can understand why you chose this place.”

Levi looked around too, more so he would not have to look at him than out of any interest in examining something he already knew inch by inch. “I haven’t even opened yet and you’re already making speeches. Save it for tomorrow.”

“It isn’t a speech.” Erwin kept his hand on the doorknob. “I’m only saying it’s good to see you building something that doesn’t have to serve a war.”

This time Levi did not find a quick response. Erwin seemed to understand he would not receive one and gave him a small smile. “You deserve this, Levi. Enjoy it.”

The door closed behind him, and Levi remained staring at it for a few seconds, thinking that resurrecting Erwin had been, among many other things, an extremely efficient way of bringing back someone capable of irritating him until the very last minute of a visit.

Levi kept looking at the wood for a few seconds, then exhaled through his nose. He picked up the used cup, carried it to the sink, and turned on the faucet. It was a good tea shop. He had spent months looking for the place, rejecting properties that were too big, too small, too dark, or surrounded by noisy people. In the end he had found that building on a quiet corner, with wide windows facing the street and a second floor where he could live without having to cross half the city every day. He had chosen the tables, the chairs, the kettles, and every damned cup. He had discovered that selecting suppliers could be almost as irritating as commanding soldiers and that civilians were capable of turning the delivery of a cabinet into an operation more disorganized than any expedition beyond the walls.

Levi finished rinsing the cup and left it on the drying rack. He still needed to check two boxes delivered that morning and would probably rearrange the shelves one more time before going upstairs, even though he knew he would not find anything out of place. He was deciding where to begin when he heard the doorknob turn, followed by the chime of the small bell installed above the door.

He frowned. He had turned the sign to “closed” after Erwin arrived and was not expecting anyone else that late in the afternoon. Keeping his back turned, he opened the faucet again to rinse the cloth and decided that whoever had ignored the sign would quickly learn how to read it.

“We’re closed.”

“Shitty service. You’ll be bankrupt in a week.”

The water kept running. Levi knew that voice. He slowly turned off the faucet, but did not turn around immediately.

Two years.

Levi remained with his back turned, the cup still in his hands even though there was nothing left to rinse. He ran his thumb around the rim, set it on the drying rack, and adjusted it beside the others. Then corrected its position one more time.

He had not counted the days.

Seven hundred and forty-two days.

“If the customers are like you, I hope so.”

The laughter came from behind him, loud and familiar, easily filling the room that had been silent all afternoon.

Only then did Levi turn around.

Hange stood near the door with an enormous backpack hanging from one shoulder, her coat open and her hair longer than when she had left, tied carelessly at the nape of her neck. Her skin was darker from the sun, and the new frames of her glasses made the dark eyepatch covering her left eye stand out even more. A small, nearly healed cut near her chin certainly came with some long, irresponsible, unnecessarily enthusiastic story. She looked tired and pleased with herself, which meant she had probably done something stupid in at least three countries.

Hange examined him too. Her gaze lingered for a moment on the two scars crossing the right side of Levi’s face, running from his forehead down to the line of his jaw, marks the years had faded without managing to erase. The two missing fingers on his right hand no longer received the same attention, Hange had been there when he lost them. Even so, after two years away, her eyes performed that familiar quick inspection, sweeping him from head to toe.

Levi knew that habit because he did exactly the same thing with Hange.

“Hi, Levi.”

He dried his hands on the cloth. “You stink.”

Hange broke into such a wide smile that her eye nearly disappeared behind the lenses. “I missed you too.”

“That isn’t what I said.”

“It’s exactly what you said.”

“You need to clean your ears.”

“I spent too long listening to people speak languages I didn’t know. My ears are excellent.”

Levi walked to the counter and set the cloth there, using the movement to buy himself a few seconds. He wanted to look properly. Check the cut on her chin, see whether Hange was limping, whether she had some hidden injury beneath the coat. He wanted to ask why she had not said she was arriving that day, when she had landed, whether she had eaten, where Onyankopon was, and how long she intended to stay.

Instead, he pointed at the backpack.

“Don’t put that shit on any of the tables.”

“Still romantic.”

“Still filthy.”

“You have no idea. I slept for two days on a boat where the bathroom was basically a bucket.”

“I don’t want to know.”

“And there was a man raising chickens on deck.”

“Four-Eyes.”

“One of them slept on my backpack.”

“Shut up.”

Hange laughed again and set the backpack on the floor, carefully away from the tables. Then she began wandering around the room, far too curious to stand still after entering a place she had only known through letters.

Levi followed her movements without realizing when he had started doing it. It was an old habit, his eyes always ended up finding Hange somewhere. Usually because she was talking too loudly, gesturing too much, or about to do something stupid. At least that was the excuse he had used for years.

None of those existed here. Hange was simply walking between the tables, and Levi kept watching.

Hange touched the back of a chair, examined the shelves behind the counter, leaned close to the tea tins to read their labels, and ran a hand over the dark wood of one of the tables. She did not make a joke. That caught his attention. Hange knew about this dream. Had known since a night so far in the past, when they had drunk until late and talked about things they would do after a war neither of them truly believed they would survive. Levi had mentioned a tea shop because alcohol had made his tongue a little less careful.

Hange had never forgotten.

“You really did it,” Hange said.

“Looks like it.”

“It’s beautiful.”

“Erwin said the same thing.”

“Then it must be true. He has excellent taste.”

“He chose you as commander.”

“Exactly.”

Levi scoffed. Hange kept looking around, now silently, and that made him more uncomfortable than any joke would have. The approval written plainly across her face was direct. Levi started thinking of some pointless task that would give him an excuse to move his hands.

“Did you get my last postcard?”

“Unfortunately.”

“The one from the beach?”

“That arrived weeks ago.”

“No, I sent another one after that.” Hange pressed her index finger to her lower lip, trying to remember. “It was from a little town on the coast. There was a huge market there and I found a tea you need to try. I bought a package for you.”

Levi frowned. “You carried tea halfway around the world?”

“It wasn’t just tea. I brought a few things.”

“Great. More shit to take up space.”

“It isn’t shit.” The indignation was immediate. “I brought a kettle too. You’re going to like it.”

Levi looked at the shelves behind him, where at least four kettles were perfectly aligned. “I already have kettles.”

“This one’s different.”

“Tch. They all heat water.”

Hange put a hand to her chest, genuinely offended. “Take that back.”

“No.”

“You opened a tea shop and just reduced a kettle to the function of heating water. I’m starting to think this establishment is a fraud.”

Levi had to suppress a smile. “And I’m starting to think I should’ve locked the door.”

That was when he realized Hange had stopped on the other side of the counter and was now staring at him. The distance between them was too small after twenty-four months, even though for years they had spent entire days sharing smaller spaces without thinking about it. The end of the war had made certain things harder to ignore.

“Onyankopon didn’t come?” Levi asked.

He tried to make the question sound casual.

Hange’s smile appeared slowly.

Shit.

“No.”

“I asked because Erwin said you were traveling together.”

“We were.”

“So?”

“So what?”

Levi picked up the cloth again. “Nothing.”

“Levi.”

“What?”

“Are you asking where Onyankopon is?”

“I just did.”

“Why?”

He stared at Hange. “Because you walked in alone, you irritating creature.”

“Oh.”

That single syllable managed to be more unbearable than an entire sentence.

Hange leaned her elbows on the counter, moving a little closer. Levi noticed the smell of travel first, caught in her coat after days on the road, and underneath it something citrusy he did not remember smelling before. “Onyankopon stayed at the harbor. He had a few things to sort out with the crew and still needed to take care of our luggage before coming here. Said he’ll show up tomorrow for the soft opening.”

“Great.”

“Are you jealous?”

Levi dropped the cloth.

“No.”

“Levi, you just asked where he was with the same face you used to make when some recruit got too close to your tea collection.”

“My face always looks like this.”

“That’s true.”

“And Onyankopon can travel with you all the way to hell if he wants. I don’t care.”

Hange tilted her head. The amusement faded. “I know.”

Hange really did know. She knew he would never ask her to stay. That he would not ask when she was coming back or make Hange feel guilty for leaving. After an entire lifetime of watching people leave without a choice, Levi could not stand the thought of using affection to limit someone’s freedom.

Hange had wanted to see the world, and Levi had never given her a reason to choose between leaving and remaining near him. Maybe it was easier that way.

For a few moments, neither of them said anything. Levi put the cloth away beneath the counter, checked one of the tea tins that were already perfectly aligned, and only then looked back at her. “So? After spending your whole life driving everyone insane because you wanted to know what existed out there, was it worth it?”

Hange’s face changed immediately. “Very. More than I imagined, actually. And that’s terrible, because now I have an even longer list of places I want to see.”

“Of course you do. It’d be too much to ask for two years to be enough to satisfy your curiosity.”

“Two years wouldn’t be enough even to get started.” Hange smiled and settled her arms more comfortably on the counter. “But it was good, Levi. It was really good.”

He nodded, watching that smile for another moment before returning to the tea tins. “Then it was good for something.”

Hange started talking.

She talked about cities built between mountains, a forest where enormous trees grew so close together that the sky was almost impossible to see, and a market where she had tried a fruit so sour Onyankopon laughed at her face for ten minutes. She talked about an observatory, locomotives, and animals Levi suspected had been described with at least twenty percent exaggeration. At one point, Hange took off her glasses to clean them, and he noticed the small freckles the sun had scattered across her nose. Some trailed down her cheekbones, almost disappearing against her tanned skin. Levi followed that dusting across her face and, for no decent reason, remembered the moles near her collarbone he had once seen while cleaning a cut on her shoulder. Then the larger one near her navel, discovered years ago during one of the many occasions when the lack of privacy among soldiers had made it perfectly normal to see more of someone’s body than intended.

Why the hell was he thinking about that now?

The sky darkened outside while Hange talked, shadows stretching between the tables, and he made tea without asking whether she wanted any. He made her favorite. Hange noticed and apparently decided not to comment. Maybe that was why Levi let the conversation continue when Hange started talking about the next trip.

“I want to see the north,” Hange said, wrapping both hands around the cup. “They say that, at certain times of the year, lights appear in the sky. Green, blue, violet, crossing the whole thing throughout the night. Onyankopon met a sailor who had been there, and the man swore it looked like a fire happening up above. I spent three days asking questions until he regretted mentioning it.”

Levi raised his own cup to his mouth. “Sounds cold.”

Hange stared at him. “I just described an entire sky catching fire in different colors and all you managed to get out of it was that it sounds cold?”

“You hate the cold. Spent every winter in Paradis complaining you couldn’t feel your fingers, then went outside without gloves because you needed to write down some shit and complained again when your hands froze.”

“I survived all of them.”

“Thanks to other people reminding you to put on a coat.”

Hange opened her mouth to protest, thought better of it, and ended up laughing into the cup. Levi drank some more tea while imagining Hange in the middle of some snow-covered place, forgetting gloves, food, and every basic principle of self-preservation because the sky had changed color.

“And when do you plan on going after those lights?”

Hange ran her thumb along the side of the cup and watched the movement. “I haven’t decided yet. The north can wait a little.”

Levi lifted his eyes. Ever since arriving, Hange had talked about cities, ships, forests, and places she still wanted to see, connecting one destination to another and piling up plans while telling him what she had already seen. Until then, it had seemed like nothing more than a matter of deciding where she would leave for next. That hesitation was new.

“You spent all this time jumping from one place to another and now you’ve decided to learn how to stay still?”

“Don’t exaggerate. I said the north can wait, not that I intend to grow roots and become a tree.” Hange drank some tea and added, without looking at him, “I was thinking about staying around here for a few months.”

Levi’s cup stopped halfway to his mouth. He set it back on the counter. “A few months?”

“Maybe.”

“Coming from someone who just arrived talking about another trip, that doesn’t clarify much.”

“I know.” Hange finally looked at him, and the smile that appeared this time was smaller. “I still want to go. I’m just not in as much of a hurry as I thought I’d be.”

Levi spent a few seconds looking at her. “Why?”

“My God, Levi. You manage to make a simple question sound like an interrogation.”

“You showed up after years, said you want to see half the planet, and five minutes later decided you’re staying. I’m trying to keep up.”

“I didn’t decide five minutes later.” Hange lowered her eyes to the cup and slowly turned it between her hands. “I’ve been thinking about it for a while.”

Hange ran her thumb around the rim of the cup again, looking down at the liquid. When she spoke again, her voice was quieter. “Because I missed this place.”

“You spent half your life trying to get out of here.”

“Not Paradis.”

Levi understood.

Hange lifted her eyes. “I missed you.”

There had been no preparation for the sentence. Hange simply said it, sitting across from him in an empty tea shop, wearing wrinkled travel clothes and carrying a backpack a chicken had apparently slept on at some point during the past few weeks.

Levi looked at his own cup.

“You sent me letters.”

“It’s not the same.”

“You talked more in the letters than you do in person.”

“That isn’t the same either.”

The silence that followed did not bother either of them. Hange could fill any room with noise, questions, and movement, but had also learned, over the years, when to remain quiet beside him. Very few people knew how to do that.

“I thought it would be different,” Hange said. “Traveling.”

“Different how?”

“I don’t know. I spent so long wanting to see everything that I thought, once I finally could, I’d never want to stop. And I really didn’t want to stop. Every time we arrived somewhere, someone would tell us about somewhere else and I wanted to go there too. I still do. I want to see the lights in the north. I want to see the desert. Onyankopon said there are caves where the entire ceiling glows because of tiny insects, and I need to see that or I’ll die.”

“Don’t die. Keeping you alive has already been enough trouble.”

Hange smiled, but did not look away. “That’s the problem.”

“What is?”

“I’d see something and think about telling you.”

Levi went still.

“It was irritating,” Hange continued. “I’d be standing in front of something I’d spent my whole life wanting to see and my first thought would be that you’d hate it. Or like it. Or say something unpleasant. When I ate something good, I thought you needed to try it. When I found tea, I bought it for you. When I saw something ridiculous, I wanted to hear you call me an idiot for liking it. It started getting really inconvenient.”

“Sounds like your problem.”

“It is. Except now I’m making it your problem too.”

Levi breathed slowly.

He had spent most of his life learning how to keep going after people disappeared. There was no technique for when someone came back. Erwin was alive. Hange had crossed half the world and appeared at his door. Levi had spent too long getting used to absences to know what to do with the opposite.

“You’re an idiot,” Levi murmured, running his thumb around the rim of his own cup, mirroring her gesture. “You could’ve at least written that you were coming back. Didn’t need to send one of those endless letters. Two lines would’ve been enough.”

“And ruin my entrance? I spent a good part of the trip back imagining your face when I showed up without warning.”

“Then you wasted a good part of the trip. I hate surprises and you know that.”

“I know. That’s exactly why I thought it would be fun.”

Levi gave her a sharp look. “Stop saying you know everything about me. It’s becoming unbearable.”

“I was gone for two years and you still think I was only starting to become unbearable?” Hange smiled over the rim of the cup. “I missed that too. Annoying you in person and being able to see your face afterward.”

Levi stood without answering and started collecting the cups, even though Hange still had some tea left in hers. He took it from her hands anyway, ignoring the protest, gathered the saucers, and carried everything to the sink. He arranged one cup beside another, folded the cloth that was already folded, and adjusted it again on the counter. The faucet remained off.

Behind him, Hange fell silent too.

Levi braced his hands against the edge of the sink and looked at the cups he had not needed to collect yet.

“Four-Eyes.”

“Hmm?”

“How long?”

Hange took a moment to answer.

“How long what?”

“Are you staying.”

He failed to keep the indifferent tone he had intended. Levi continued staring at the cups beside the sink, waiting for a quick answer, something about a few weeks or the next ship Hange intended to take. Instead, he heard the chair scrape against the floor. Then footsteps. Hange did not answer as she crossed the short distance between the counter and the sink. Levi followed each step by sound without turning around, until they stopped too close for him to keep pretending to be interested in the dishes. Only then did he turn his head.

Hange stood a few steps away from him, her hands shoved into the pockets of her coat and her shoulders slightly hunched. Ever since walking through the door, she had talked nonstop, laughed at his answers, teased him about being jealous, and told travel stories without stumbling over a single word. Now she was looking somewhere near Levi’s shoulder instead of directly at him. She even opened her mouth, gave up, and breathed out through her nose.

Levi had known Hange long enough to know that was rare.

“I don’t know,” she finally answered. “Maybe quite a while.”

“Maybe quite a while doesn’t mean shit coming from you. Could be a week, or you could show up tomorrow saying you found a ship going somewhere nobody here can point to on a map.”

“A few months, then.” Hange took one hand out of her pocket and adjusted her glasses, taking a little longer with the gesture than necessary. “I haven’t made any plans yet, if that’s what you’re trying to drag out of me. I just thought I could stay around here for a while.”

“A few months,” Levi repeated, more to make sure he had heard correctly.

“Maybe longer. I still want to travel, Levi. There’s a lot I haven’t seen and the more I see, the more places appear. So I’ll probably leave again at some point.”

He nodded and looked away toward the counter. “I know.”

“But I can come back.”

Levi looked at her again.

Hange did not look away this time. “That part took a while to get through my head. I spent so long wanting to get out of the walls that I think I got used to thinking of leaving as something permanent. You walk through a door because you want to find out what’s on the other side and you keep walking. But it doesn’t have to be like that.” She paused and looked around, over the empty tables, the shelves, and then back at him. “I can see the north, the desert, those caves I told you about, and whatever else I come up with afterward. And I can come back when I’m done.”

Levi held her gaze for a few seconds. “Took you all that time to figure out ships go both ways?”

Hange let out a short laugh, lowering her head. “I’m a little slow about some things.”

“Most things.”

“You don’t make it easy either. I spent years trying to figure out what goes on in that head of yours and I’m still working with insufficient information.”

“I’m under no obligation to make anything easy for you. If you decided to spend years trying, that’s your problem.”

“I know. You never were.” Hange lifted her eyes again. “But I kept trying anyway.”

Hange’s hand touched his.

It was a small contact compared to everything they had already endured together. Levi knew those hands covered in blood, dirt, burns, and Titan fluids he would rather forget. He had held them to pull Hange from rubble, treated cuts on her fingers, and pushed that same hand away from potentially explosive experiments. This time, however, there was no urgency to justify the gesture.

Levi looked at the fingers resting over his.

“I missed you so much,” Hange said.

Hange did not remove her hand, even after the silence between them stretched on. Her thumb rested near his knuckles, motionless, without any of the excuses that had accompanied so many other touches over the years.

This time, no one was injured. There was no tight formation forcing them to share space, no freezing night during an expedition, no urgency that justified Hange standing so close. Not even a cup to reach for across the counter.

Levi turned his hand beneath hers.

Hange’s fingers opened on instinct, and he filled the space between them, fitting his fingers into hers. Hange lowered her eyes to their joined hands and went quiet. Levi had known that touch for years. The difference was that, for the first time, neither of them had to pretend it served some other purpose. Hange squeezed his fingers.

“Levi?”

“You talk too much.”

“I just—”

Levi pulled Hange toward him by the hand and kissed her.

Her glasses bumped lightly against his face. Hange made a short sound of surprise, and for a moment went completely still, her fingers still caught between Levi’s, her mouth parted beneath his. It was long enough for Levi to realize what he had done and almost pull away.

Then Hange grabbed the front of his shirt.

The fabric bunched between her fingers and Levi was pulled back before he could create any distance. The second meeting of their mouths had little of the first one’s hesitation. Hange kissed him with clumsy urgency, tilting her head, bumping her glasses against him again, and gripping his shirt until her knuckles went tense. Levi released her hand only to reach the back of her neck and pull her closer.

Hange tasted like the tea he had made, still warm, and it took Levi a moment to realize he was kissing back with the same urgency. He ran his fingers over the nape of her neck and buried them in the strands that had grown during the trip, holding her there when Hange tried to break the kiss only to breathe. She managed to draw in a little air before returning, and this time Levi met her halfway.

There was no urgency waiting for them outside, but their bodies did not seem to have understood that yet.

Levi felt Hange’s free hand settle on his shoulder and slowly move up to his face. Her fingers traveled carefully over his cheek, and the kiss lost its urgency. Hange followed his rhythm, her mouth still against his, slower now, discovering without haste something it had taken them both years to reach. Levi slid his thumb over the skin beneath her ear, feeling the warmth under the tip of his finger, and only pulled away when he began to run out of air.

Even then, he did not go far. Neither did Hange. A single shared breath between them was enough for their mouths to meet again in a short kiss, followed by another at the corner of the mouth. Neither seemed willing to decide they had had enough.

That was when Levi noticed.

Hange was smiling.

At first it was only the corner of her mouth. Then her lips curved fully, still close to his, and a small breath of laughter escaped between them.

Levi frowned. “Don’t laugh.”

“I’m not laughing.”

“You are. I just saw it.”

That only made it worse. Hange tried to hold back the smile, pressing her lips together, but her shoulders began to shake and soon she let out a quiet laugh, still clutching his shirt.

“Sorry.” She rested her forehead against his, unable to stop completely. “I’m just happy.”

Levi stared at her.

He wanted to find some unpleasant answer. Any would do. Four-Eyes, idiot, unbearable creature. He had an entire repertoire built over years, but none of it came. Not when he was too busy looking at her face and finding there a happiness he had not seen in a very long time. He remembered that same expression ten years ago, when Hange chased Titans for her experiments, talking too fast, her eyes bright with some discovery that would probably end in an explosion or with someone getting hurt.

Levi also knew everything that came after. He had watched that joy slowly go out beneath the weight of command, Hange taking the blame for every decision that cost a life and still forcing herself to search for some hope to offer everyone else. Maybe no one knew as well as he did how much it had cost her. Levi knew the nights when Hange appeared at his bedroom door without a word and simply lay down beside him. He knew the silent weight of that body seeking shelter in his mattress and the tears that dampened his pillow when Hange believed he was already asleep. He never asked. She never explained. The next morning, they got up and kept going.

And now she was there again.

Hange was still holding his shirt. Her glasses were crooked, her face close to his, and that smile still rested on her lips, small and content. Levi looked at that smile one more time before raising his hand and straightening the frames on her nose.

“Ridiculous.”

“You kissed me.”

“I’m starting to regret it.”

“Liar.”

Levi kissed Hange again.

This time there was none of the hurried impact of their first contact. He held her face in one hand and slowly pressed his mouth to hers, lingering over the first touch, feeling Hange’s smile gradually disappear as she kissed him back. Levi tilted his head and deepened the contact without hurry, his thumb sliding along the side of her jaw while Hange finally released his shirt to rest her hands on his waist.

Levi stepped forward and Hange moved back until the small of her back met the edge of the counter. A small sound escaped her throat, more from surprise than anything else, but she did not break the kiss. Quite the opposite. Her hands tightened around Levi’s waist and pulled him closer, leaving practically no space between them.

The difference in their height became more obvious when Levi had to raise his face a little higher. Hange noticed too, letting out an amused breath against his mouth as she slid down a few inches against the counter and bent her knees until they were practically level.

Levi pulled away just enough to stare at her.

“What are you doing?”

“Making it easier.”

“Idiot.”

“Would you rather stand on your tiptoes?”

Levi’s hand tightened around her waist.

“Finish that sentence.”

Hange laughed softly, but the sound died when Levi kissed her again.

He took advantage of the new height without admitting Hange had been right. This time he managed to move closer without effort, trapping her between his body and the counter while his hand left her face and traveled down her neck, following the line of her shoulder until it reached her waist. Hange wrapped her arms around him, and Levi felt her fingers find the hem of his shirt.

The first touch beneath the fabric was cautious. Her fingertips slid over the skin of his back, warm after holding the cup for so long. Levi broke the kiss for a fraction of a second, but did not pull away. Hange waited. She asked nothing, simply kept her hand still against his skin until he kissed her again. Only then did her fingers continue, slowly traveling up his back, and he answered by pressing her body even closer to the counter.

His own hand found the hem of Hange’s shirt and slipped beneath it without hurry, resting against her side. The direct contact with her skin hit him with a force Levi had not expected. He ran his thumb along the curve of her waist and felt Hange exhale against his mouth, while the hand on his back moved a little higher, spreading between his shoulder blades. There was no urgency now. Levi kissed her slowly, attentive to every shift in pressure, to the way Hange searched for his mouth more fully, and to the small pauses for breath that inevitably ended with them finding each other again.

Hange brought one hand to the nape of his neck and ran her fingers through the short strands of his hair. Levi felt her thumb reach the end of one of the scars near his temple. The touch was brief, familiar, without any trace of the pity that would have irritated him. It was simply Hange touching a part of him that had not existed before everything fell apart.

Levi did the same.

The hand holding her face moved up to the strap of the eyepatch, following it for a moment without trying to move it aside. Hange stopped kissing him and opened her eye. Levi ran his thumb over the skin just beneath the strap.

Hange tilted her head and kissed the palm of his hand. That was worse than any declaration she could have made. Levi held the back of her neck, bringing her close again, and remained there for a few seconds with his forehead against hers. When Hange lifted her face, he noticed her glasses were crooked again.

“You’re going to break this shit,” he muttered.

Levi took off her glasses, folded them, and carefully set them on the counter.

Hange smiled, and Levi could not stop himself from kissing her again.

Her mouth was addictive, soft beneath his, and there was something maddening in the way Hange gave herself to him without reservation, fingers gripping his shirt and her entire body seeking his. Levi slowly deepened the kiss and, for a few minutes, allowed himself the selfish thought that Hange was his. Judging by the way she held him, maybe she was thinking exactly the same thing.

When they separated, Hange rested her forehead against his, still holding his shirt. Outside, someone passed by on the street speaking loudly, a cart creaked as it turned the corner, and neither of them had to run anywhere. That was perhaps the strangest part of all. They had enough time to remain like that, breathing the same air, without someone opening a door to bring news of another tragedy.

“Is there a spare room upstairs?” she murmured without moving away. “My backpack is heavy, I’ve been traveling for three days, and the place I used to stay has probably already been rented.”

Levi looked at her. The fingers of his left hand traced her spine absently, while the other remained firm around her waist, feeling the warmth of her body beneath the layers of clothing. He could have mentioned the guest room or the couch. He could have made Hange beg a little, just for the inconvenience of showing up without warning. Instead, he tilted his head and brought his mouth close to her ear.

“There’s my bed.”

It was deeply satisfying to discover there were still ways to leave Hange Zoë speechless. The blush appeared first across her cheekbones and quickly spread to her ears, while her fingers tightened around his shirt.

“I-I think that’s great.”

Levi pulled back just enough to appreciate the damage. “And take a shower.”

The embarrassed expression vanished instantly, replaced by that dangerous gleam he knew far too well. “Maybe you can take one with me.”

Shit.

Levi felt his own ears burn, which made it even more important not to show absolutely anything. A brief smile betrayed his attempt. He tilted his head, brushed his lips along her jaw, and left a light bite there, satisfied when he felt Hange shiver in his arms.

“Maybe I can.”

Hange started laughing, and Levi realized he needed to put an end to this while he still had some dignity left. He released her and turned toward the sink, finally turning on the faucet, although the smile insisted on remaining at the corner of his mouth.

Behind him, Hange picked up the backpack.

“I brought something for the wall too.”

“No.”

“You haven’t even seen it.”

“No.”

“It’s a painting.”

“No.”

“Of two lizards mating.”

Levi closed his eyes. Two years away and, in less than an hour, Hange had already managed to turn his newly organized home into a threat to his sanity.

“I’m throwing you and that shit into the street.”

“Did you miss me?”

Levi turned his head.

Hange stood by the stairs, the backpack hanging from one shoulder and that smile still on her lips. The blush from the kissing had not disappeared completely, her hair was still a mess from his hands, and she looked far too pleased with herself.

Son of a bitch.

He had even missed that.

In the cupboard upstairs, there was a second cup Levi had bought months ago and had never bothered to justify.

“Go take a shower, Four-Eyes.”

Hange kept smiling.

This time, Levi did too.

Just a little.

And when Hange disappeared up the stairs, complaining that he remained incapable of displaying any human emotion, Levi returned to his cups with the strange realization that the tea shop finally felt ready to open.