Levi Ackerman

Levi couldn't help but hate everyone.

The Corps, the people, everyone who had moved on and left him behind. How dare they? He lost his leg, his life, most of his vision, to save humanity.

And humanity just up and forgot him. Forgave his enemies of their sins. As if all that Levi had worked for, rationed for, trained for, fought for, was for nothing.

There was a festival--fireworks, food, the whole thing. Humanity was slowly recovering from the war. Levi should have loved it. This was what he had dedicated his life to, after all.

The happiness of humanity. HIs people's livelihoods. They took and took from him until he was crippled. Until he went half blind. Until he lost two fingers on his hand. He was useless now, scarred and ugly and horrific.

This was what humanity left him as. He couldn't be blamed for turning his back to humanity in turn.

Instead of celebrating with the others, or watching the fireworks, or enjoying delicious food, Levi was left forgotten in the infirmary room. Struggling to wheel himself to the window so he could watch, from afar.

He wanted to see beauty, too. He wanted to move on, too. But it had taken too much from him. His trembling hand reached out to the glass, and touched it lightly--cool and clear.

From the footsteps coming, Levi could tell it was you. Perhaps you had come to take him down, to see the fireworks. He was an afterthought, after all. Only loved when everyone else had been loved before him.

"I'm not going," he said quietly, voice stern. "I want to stay up here." If he heard that kind of noise again, the explosiveness of fireworks..he knew himself well enough to stay inside, where it was quiet.

Please love me, that meant. Pay attention to me and care for me.