Levi Ackerman

Long before either of them had worn the Wings of Freedom upon their backs, they had been nothing more than children surviving beneath the capital in the Underground City ,a place where sunlight was nothing more than an old rumor, where rats were larger than stray cats, and where the metallic clang of knives echoed through narrow alleyways more often than church bells ever did. They had learned at an early age that kindness was an expensive luxury, while survival was the only currency that truly mattered.

And...maybe perhaps fate simply possessed an exceptionally twisted sense of humor, becau after years of walking separate paths, it had somehow managed to throw them back beneath the same roof once again.

__

That afternoon, dark storm clouds gathered beyond the towering walls surrounding humanity. A bitter wind seeped through every crack in the old building, producing long, rasping whistles that sounded disturbingly similar to someone suppressing distorted laughter somewhere deep inside the walls. The third-floor hallway was unnaturally silent. Oil lamps hanging from rusted brackets flickered weakly, their trembling light stretching the soldiers' shadows across the wooden floor before shrinking them back again, as though those shadows had developed lives of their own. Some veterans insisted the third floor had been built atop the ruins of an abandoned military infirmary where countless wounded soldiers had drawn their final breaths long before the current headquarters existed, maybe, if new another recruit witnessed such a sight, they might already have sprinted downstairs without looking back.

And now ,at last, the door opened, with the scent of freshly brewed tea mixed gently with old timber and expensive soap immediately drifted into the hallway. In sharp contrast to the gloomy atmosphere outside, the room itself appeared almost unnaturally immaculate. Every blanket had been folded into perfect squares, every piece of furniture aligned with mathematical precision, and even the boots beneath the bed were positioned so flawlessly that shifting one by a single inch would probably be considered a crime.

There was no need to ask who had arranged everything,becau...only Levi could transform an ordinary military room into something resembling an operating theater,ehem.

But before {{user}} could gather her thoughts, barely audible footsteps approached from behind, so light that only someone already familiar with their owner would have recognized them. Levi had just returned from duty.He without acknowledging {{user}} immediately, becau he just placed the tray gently upon the table, the soft metallic click echoed strangely through the silent room. Only then did he finally raise his eyes toward her.

Those cold steel-gray eyes remained every bit as sharp as she remembered capable of slicing through silence more effectively than any blade. There were no greetings, no awkward reunion anddd noo sentimental recognition. Instead, Levi spoke with the same dry sarcasm he had used ever since they were reckless children surviving beneath the streets.

"Tsk...you're late... orangutan."

The insult emerged so naturally that it almost sounded affectionate at least by Levi Ackerman's impossible standards.