Chapter Text
Thank you to @__arisu_x0 for this STUNNING art! ♡
Author: Museflight
Tumblr: Museflight
AO3: Museflight
Someday, Levi would be glad to wake up in the morning.
Today was not that day.
He didn't have to look to know that the screaming alarm on his bedside table read 4:30 A.M. just like it always did. He didn't need to open his eyes to swing his hand over and shut the alarm off. From that point on, however, it was a countdown until he had to open his eyes and face the world. If he let himself dwell in the pleasant dark for too long, it would only be a matter of time until he drifted off back to sleep. His second alarm would wake him up again in half an hour, but it would still delay his day more than he was willing to tolerate.
A tiny 'murp' from his chest gave him the extra push that he needed to get on with it. Levi cracked his eyes open to find a pair of bright orange eyes peering down at him in the dark. Despite everything, his lips cracked into a tiny smile.
"Capitaine."
He lifted a heavy to run a hand through the Capitaine's silky black fur. She leaned into his touch with a throaty purr, careless as to his missing fingers.
Moving the cat off him to get up felt nothing short of criminal, but was a crime that was accustomed to committing by this point. There was a silver lining in the fact that she obediently jumped down onto the floor when he sat up. Waking up was always harder when she raced down to the foot of the bed and started mewing for him to stay.
Of course, he couldn't give her too much credit for good behavior. The greedy little thing started weaving between his ankles the second he stood up.
"You hungry, is that it?" Levi asked.
Capitaine looked up at him and meowed in what could only be confirmation.
Levi ran a hand through his hair—too close to greasy for his comfort—and sighed. "After I take a shower," he promised.
He knew that the cat didn't understand him, obviously. If he didn't already, it was clearly proven by how the furred pig followed him into the bathroom, mewing all the way. Levi opened the door, let her race inside, flicked on the light, and stared at the door for a moment longer before opting to leave it open as he walked over to the shower.
Capitaine froze the second he put his hand on the handle, her fur already rising the stand on end. A few seconds later, her tail started lashing and she let out a low, threatening growl.
With a tiny smirk playing on his lips, Levi pulled the shiny white handle, sending a cascade of water pouring out of the showerhead.
Capitaine raced out of the bathroom with a dramatic yowl.
"Scaredy cat," Levi murmured.
The morning moved by in a well-practiced routine from there.
Levi stripped out of the pajamas as the shower ran, catching a glimpse of himself in the mirror. He looked like shit for reasons that had nothing to do with the massive jagged scar running down one side of his face. That was something he would have to fix before he was subjected to his daily dose of brats.
The spray was warm and steamy by the time he stepped into the shower. He didn't have time to savor it. Once he was in, he was moving, squeezing a dime-sized dollop of shampoo into his hand and massaging it in with eight fingers. It was rinsed out and replaced with conditioner in under a minute. The conditioner was allowed to absorb for exactly two minutes. As he counted down the seconds, he scrubbed himself thoroughly with moisturizer. When he hit 120 seconds, the conditioner was rinsed out with water that was cool enough not to damange his hair but warm enough to be comfortable.
Just not comfortable enough for him to linger.
Levi was out of the shower and wrapping a towel around his waist within five minutes.
The mirror was covered in condensation when he started brushing his teeth. It had cleared up somewhat by the time he finished, but not enough to appease him. Levi grabbed the fuzzy white washcloth from the edge of the sink and dried off a section of the mirror with a few sharp sweeps of his arm. He lowered his arm to find his face staring back at him, still scarred and severe, but no longer sporting red-ringed eyes. His hair was sticking up at odd angles, but that was easily solved by opening the draw beneath the sink, pulling out the comb, and running it through his hair. In less than a minute, he was one step closer to presentable.
Capitaine was waiting for him in his bedroom. She was a tiny black puffball on his pillow, orange eyes still wide and gleaming with betrayal. Levi spent a solid ten seconds staring at her after turning his bedroom light on. Finally, he let off a gentle scoff and walked over to the cat. That betrayal melted off her face the second he ran his hand over her head. A rusty purr started up a few seconds later.
Silly thing couldn't hold a grudge if her life depended on it.
For the second time, Levi had to make a conscious effort to wrench himself away from his cat. Getting dressed was as easy an affair as it always was - all he had to do was take out his freshly washed uniform and put it on. The notion of getting dressed at work was immediately dismissed. The only reason to do that would be if he had something to do after work, which was never the case. He would actually choose an outfit for the day once he got home.
Or maybe he would just wear his blue jumpsuit until he got ready for bed. It wasn't like it would make any difference.
It was almost five in the morning by the time Levi made his way into the kitchen. He paused as he walked past his mother's room. He knew very well that he was being too quiet to wake her up, yet he still hesitated, searching for any signs that she may be awake. When he was content that she wasn't, he nodded to himself and continued on his way.
Levi wouldn't call himself a good cook by any means. It had been with time and grueling effort that he had been able to drag himself up to a point that he honestly considered decent. Whether 'decent' would ever evolve into 'pleasurable' remained to be seen, but if it did, it wasn't going to happen this morning. His mother was going to have to settle for decent. He knew she would. Too kind for her own good, she claimed to enjoy Levi's cooking. She said that it did taste good; she was just being sentimental because he was the one who had made it. It was an argument that would never reach a resolution on account of him never finding the heart to call her out on it.
It was, in the context of that morning, entirely pointless to dwell upon.
Even if he wasn't a good cook, he was an efficient one. Before very long, Levi had a pair of pancakes, fried potatoes, a side of bacon, and fresh squeezed orange juice carefully prepared on a plate. He set it down on the kitchen table, spent a moment longer surveying it, and then covered it for his mom when she woke up. From there, all that he had to do was wash out the pans, grab his keys and wallet from the kitchen counter, and turn the kitchen light off.
He was out of the apartment by five thirty in the morning.
His motorcycle was waiting for him in the parking lot. Loyally, he might say if he was willing to pretend that inanimate objects had any sort of consciousness. Truthfully, the fact that it had lasted as long as it had might be enough to earn it the title of loyal regardless. The motorcycle had been old and worn back when he first got it, a purchase made on the basis of affordability rather than any genuine desire to own it. He had half expected it to break down within six months of purchase. Yet it was still running years later, and when it roared to life at his command, the engine purring smoothly beneath him, he knew that it was not going to give out on him today.
The sky was one of the nicer things about waking up so early. It was still dark blue when he drove out of the parking lot. As he sped down the highway, it slowly began to lighten, brilliant shades of orange and pink spilling over the horizon. By the time he pulled into the McDonald's parking lot, dawn had truly taken hold, casting the dusky sky into a brilliant array of colors. Levi allotted himself a few moments to sit on his bike and stare up at it before reluctantly peeling himself off and heading into the restaurant.
At another restaurant, he might have been recognized as a regular by now. The McDonalds? No one gave a shit about you at McDonalds. Levi had seen the same kid behind the register at roughly the same time at least three times a week for the past six months, and still he was greeted by the same blank, dull-eyed look. That was fine by him. As long as the kid didn't recognize him he wouldn't start talking to him, which means that Levi wouldn't have to learn his name. He already knew too many annoying brats to add another one to the list.
The kid offered him a robotic good morning and took his order. Levi walked over to the pickup counter to await his pitiful excuse for a morning meal. It was like the rest of his morning, a familiar, well-worn routine that wasn't going to break anytime soon.
Someday, though. Someday.
Levi did not let himself get caught up in visions of the future as he sat down at one of the dubiously clean plastic counters. Such things were better saved for the late hours of the night, as he lay in bed drifting off to sleep. This morning, there was no time. Thinking about a brighter future right before he started work would only make the noxious present that much more glaring anyway.
It didn't take long for him to finish his meal. Before leaving, he took one of his unused napkins and gave the tabletop a brief but thorough wipedown. He knew damn well that it was probably wasted, unappreciated effort, but there was still something satisfying about walking out the door knowing that he was leaving the table in a better condition than it had been when he arrived.
Trost Highschool was only a short drive from the McDonalds. It was one of the many reasons why the early morning was the only acceptable time to get a meal from there; the damn place would be absolutely swarming with teenagers within the hour. The same could be said of the school itself. Despite the bright blue sky that now stretched out above him, the hour was still early enough that Levi drove his bike into a mostly abandoned parking lot.
Mostly abandoned.
Levi didn't particularly care about the rusty pickup truck parked in Mike's spot, even though said pickup truck definitely did not belong to Mike. That wasn't Levi's problem. However, when he spotted the pair of teenagers passionately making out in the truck bed, he was hit with a dull resignation that informed him that this was, in fact, about to be his problem.
His bike was loud enough to be damn near impossible to ignore. Yet somehow, this couple hadn't even blinked his way. He parked his bike, climbed off, crossed his arms, stared the miscreants down, and once again went completely ignored. No, Historia and Ymir - the stereotypical cheerleader and unabashed delinquent who the entire school knew to be "good friends" were so absorbed in each other that a bomb could have gone off and they wouldn't have noticed.
"Good friends.” In a school absolutely drowning in rumored relationships, somehow they were the ones who got slapped with the label of firmly platonic.
At least they knew that they didn't have to worry about Levi telling anyone about this. No one would ever believe him.
Then again, they might. The rest of Trost High's population would start arriving soon. This didn't have to be his problem. If those two wanted to stay in the closet so badly, they should show a little discretion. Hell, if they didn't want to get detention they should be more careful. Levi would be well within his rights to walk away and let the cards fall where they may.
He heaved a sigh and walked over to the horny morons.
"Oi, brats," Levi called.
The brats in question broke apart with a screech. Or rather, Historia screeched, pulling back and burying her face in her girlfriend's shoulder. Ymir simply stared Levi down, agitated but unashamed. "What do you want, shorty?" the delinquent barked, like she was the one with authority. Honestly, Levi should have given her detention just for that, technical inability to give detention be damned.
Instead, he rapped his hand against the side of the truck bed. Ymir was drawn to the motion, her gaze zeroing in on his missing fingers. Next, her attention swiveled over to the scars on his face. When she looked him in the eyes again, her features held an iota of respect - or possibly fear. Levi kept his satisfaction off his face as he rapped on the side of the bed again.
Historia finally pulled her face out of Ymir's shoulder, turning to face him with an expression that was more angry than anxious. Cute. He wondered if she was letting him see this side of her because she trusted that he wouldn't tell anyone or because she knew that no one would believe him even if he did.
"Are you okay with the whole school finding out about your relationship?" Levi asked.
Ymir shrugged. "That's up to Historia."
The anger faded from Historia's face, replaced by something vulnerable and pained. "Ymir..." she whispered, looking from her girlfriend, to Levi, and finally to the bottom of the truck.
Ymir slung her arm over Historia's shoulder, pulling her closer. Not that she had to make much of an effort; the blonde came easily.
There was a pang in Levi's chest, the familiar torments of McDonald's-induced acid reflux. He shoved it down with a vengeance.
"If you want to stay in the closet, you might want to avoid making out in front of the entire goddamn school," he said.
"I don't see anyone else here," Ymir snapped, a funny glint in her narrowed eyes. The stupid teenager really thought she was intimidating. To people under the age of twenty and those unfortunate enough to be devoid of spines, she probably was. Unfortunately for her, Levi fell into neither of those categories.
"It's past six. This place will be a sardine tin before you can blink."
A sneer began to cross Ymir's face. Before it could fully form, Historia placed a gentle hand on her arm, making it vanish like a summer mirage. "He's right," she whispered. "I'm sorry, Ymir, but... we need to be more careful."
There was something sorrowful in Ymir's expression. She was also looking at Historia like she was the most precious thing in the world, the sort of all-consuming devotion that blinded her to how Historia was looking at her like her only lifeline in a ruthless world.
Someone else might have looked away. Levi didn't give enough of a damn to be so courteous. However, he was feeling just kind enough to add, "You'll also get detention for public displays of affection and parking in a teacher's spot, if that's something either of you care about."
His words were enough to yank the pair out of each other's eyes. Historia's eyes widened with horror before darting toward the name emblazoned on the parking spot's marker, as if she had only just realized where her girlfriend had parked. Based on what he'd seen so far, Levi wouldn't be surprised if that was the case.
Meanwhile, Ymir laughed and tugged at the arm still thrown across Historia's shoulder, sending her careening into her chest with a squawk. Her cry of, "Ymir!" was thoroughly muffled by her girlfriend's bosom.
"I don't know, getting detention together sounds awfully romantic," Ymir crooned.
Historia squirmed her way out of Ymir's grasp and hit her with a huffy glower.
"Alright, alright, let's get going before a real asshole shows up," Ymir laughed. She jumped off the side of the truck, held her arms out, and caught Historia when she followed suit, gently depositing the cheerleader on the ground with a dramatic twirl. There was a blush on Historia's face as she climbed into the passenger's seat and a smirk on Ymir's as she opened the driver's door. "Later, shorty.”
She slammed the door and started the engine before he could tell her off for it.
At least the delinquent had the decency not to run him down. Levi made sure to step back quickly, but she waited until he was a solid two feet away from the parking space before she started backing out. Levi watched her drive across the parking lot and turned toward the school, content that he wasn't going to be run down today.
That was when a baby blue Volkswagen beetle came barreling across the parking lot like a bat out of hell.
Levi hadn't given much thought to how he would die. On the times that he did think about it, he had never once considered 'run over by the world's most atrocious car in the Trost Highschool parking lot' to be an option. Yet as he watched as death raced toward him with cheerfully round headlights and his short, miserable, unimpressive life flashed before his eyes, he found that it might just be an inevitability.
He also hoped that his mom didn't think he froze up when she learned how he went out. Dying this way was already bad enough, he didn't want her to think that he had been stupid on top of it. Levi could feel himself trying to move, but there were limits to the human body. It didn't matter how quickly he reacted when that damn car was moving at the speed of light.
He hoped that none of the students found out how he died. Oh, they would spread ridiculous rumors and wild conspiracies, but none of them could be as bad as the truth.
He knew that he was going to haunt the bastard behind the wheel until the day they died and he dragged them down to hell with him.
All of those thoughts came to Levi in the span of a second. Before he knew it, the second had passed and death was-
- Half an inch away from him.
The Volkswagen let out a terrible screech as it came to a sudden stop. Levi nearly fell forward when he flinched in response to the near collision. He caught himself on the car's hood, his hands slamming down on metal with a noisy thud. A few precious seconds were spent staring down at the span of baby blue, breathing heavily, and trying to process what had just happened. Then he looked up to shoot the driver the most venomous glare he had ever mustered in his life.
Levi wasn't going to die today. Good. Forget about waiting until he died, he was sending that bastard to hell right fucking now.
Except there was no one to kill. His glare landed on an empty car seat.
The driver's door opened to reveal the most beautiful man Levi had ever seen.
He looked like Captain America if he were an actual human being. His wide, concerned, frantic eyes were the color of the most perfect ocean. His clothes hung flatteringly on his frame, well-pressed and clearly chosen with care. Not a single hair on his blond head was out of place, at least, not until he raised his single hand to run it through his hair.
“Are you alright?” the man asked in a deep, smooth, worried voice.
Levi’s heart skipped a beat.
Then he grabbed his heart in an unwavering grip and crushed it beneath his heel. Gorgeous or not, this man was about to die.
"You look like a know-it-all, what do you think?" Levi growled.
"I think that you're rightfully furious with me," the world's most handsome reckless driver responded. "But are you injured?"
Despite his apparent concern, the other man was still standing a few feet away. A respectful distance. Levi never gave a shit about being respectful. He made sure to hold himself at his full height as he stormed up to the other man. When he came to a stop, practically on top of the toes of his well-polished shoes, he became acutely aware that there was over a foot of height difference between them. It did absolutely nothing to stop him from promising, "If I were injured, you would already be dead."
"That's good to hear," the bastard said. He chuckled warmly, as if this were some pleasant meet-cute, and extended his hand toward Levi. "My name's Erwin Smith; I start as a history professor today."
Levi ignored the warm feeling in his stomach and stared at the offered hand like it was covered in hagfish slime. It was about what Smith deserved, between almost killing him and calling himself a professor. No over-polished highschool teacher should be calling themselves a fucking professor.
"Is that your way of trying to get me to go easier on you?" Levi asked, looking up at Smith disdainfully.
"You've got me," Smith admitted, dropping his arm to his side with a sigh. "I know that my recklessness was inexcusable, but I'm a selfish man and would prefer not to be hated by the first colleague I meet."
Despite his best efforts, Levi felt his ire fade slightly. "At least you're self-aware," he muttered.
Smith's lips twitched. "I try to be. Really, though, I am sorry. Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?"
Turn your license in, because you clearly shouldn't be driving, Levi thought. However, where respectability couldn't stop him from storming up to Smith and the height difference couldn't stop him from mouthing off, a glance at the man's missing arm made those words evaporate before they could come anywhere close to being spoken.
"Driver safer," Levi sighed. "One accident was bad enough, I don't need any more scars."
Horror so pure that Levi could have bottled and sold it washed over Erwin's face. "You mean your scars..."
A smile threatened to breach Levi's expression. He shoved it back down as he said, "No."
Smith stared.
And then he laughed, a warm, melodious, awakening of a sound that resonated through Levi's very soul. It only lasted for a few precious seconds, and when it came to an end, Erwin said, "I suppose I deserved that."
"You did," Levi said. He hesitated, tried to remember his fury, and in a moment of defeat that he would never admit to anyone but himself, extended his hand toward Erwin. "Levi Ackerman."
Erwin's hand was calloused, but there was a softness to it all the same. It was also warm in a way that Levi would remember for the rest of his life. "A pleasure to meet you, Levi Ackerman. Will I be seeing more of you going forward?"
Levi couldn't stop his lips from twitching this time. "We'll see."
With that, he slipped his hand out of Erwin's grasp and walked away, allowing them to go their separate ways.
He didn't allow himself to dwell on how he wasn't sure he wanted that to happen.