Next to Me

      A silent scene. Captain Levi Ackerman, battered by war more than any other surviving member of the Alliance, sat in his wheelchair across from the prison bars, behind which Zeke Yeager sat cross-legged on a bunk. For what felt like an eternity—but in reality perhaps a couple of minutes—they stared at each other, unblinking, their gazes locked. Even the soldier standing behind Levi didn’t know what was happening or whether he was needed, but defying the captain was far too reckless, so he simply waited for orders, frozen like a shadow. When Levi finally broke the silence with his icy, disdainful tone, the Military Police soldier flinched.       “You look even worse than usual.”       Zeke, taking another glance at Levi—in a wheelchair, with bandages contrasting with his dark hair, a harsh scar, and, as he now noticed, two missing fingers on his right hand, also bandaged—scoffed and retorted:       “I could say the same about you, Captain.”       Zeke’s voice, though slightly hoarse, carried a mocking edge. With a “tch”, Levi nodded to the soldier behind him. The soldier nodded back, about to leave, but then hesitated and spoke quietly:       “This isn’t exactly protocol, but…” He handed Levi the keys to the cell and his pistol. “In case you decide to finish Yeager off.”       Levi took the keys and weapon, wincing. He tucked the keys into his jacket pocket and placed the pistol, which he eyed with particular displeasure, behind him on the chair. He’d never grown accustomed to firearms and didn’t approve of them. Still, it might come in handy here. As a cripple, he might not be able to overpower Zeke. But the soldier’s breach of protocol revealed something else: every one of them so desperately wanted Yeager dead that they’d turn a blind eye to Levi taking justice into his own hands, yet none dared disobey his orders to do it themselves. Levi nodded to the soldier again, and the man saluted before hurrying down the corridor, leaving the captain alone with Yeager. Turning back to Zeke and looking at him with disdain and reluctance, Levi raised his hand with its mangled fingers and adjusted the bandages on his head.       “Not without your help.”       Scratching his ear as if everything was completely fine and normal, Zeke responded calmly:       “Well… You’re the one who shoved that spear into me… So there’s some of your handiwork in this too.” Zeke yawned boredly. “Is that why you came, Captain? Or for something else? If it’s for revenge, I don’t quite get what stopped you before. I’ve been here at least a couple of months or so.” He smirked slightly, shrugging. “As you can imagine, I don’t exactly have a calendar.”       Zeke seemed far more cheerful and content than he had any right to be. It was both unsettling and infuriating. He looked like a thin, dying old man with lifeless eyes, yet he spoke carelessly and energetically, like a teenager. The dissonance made Levi, who had intended to stay composed, simmer with anger.       “I came to check if you’d rotted away yet, so I could clean up if needed,” Levi improvised, his words hissed through tightly clenched teeth. “But I see you’re chipper and lively. Too comfortable here? Want it to get even better?”       Zeke himself wasn’t entirely sure why he felt almost pleased, but he attributed it to the joy of speaking with someone—anyone—other than himself, even if that someone was Captain Levi. Though, if he had a choice, he’d have preferred to see Pieck. But beggars can’t be choosers. “The forest was nicer, Captain,” he remarked with a smile. “But I’m touched you were thinking of me. I wondered about you too. Curious if you survived after I dragged you to the Alliance.”       “Oh, yeah…” Levi’s face twisted at the thought of Zeke saving him. Yes, the other survivors had told him, but that fact irked him. “I’m aware. Where’d all that kindness come from, you heartless piece of shit?”       “Come on, Captain…” Zeke said, almost offended, scratching his ear again in confusion. “I’m not heartless. No idea where you got that from. And…” He sighed. “I’ve had time to think.”       “Oh?” Levi raised an eyebrow, crossing his good leg over his injured one. “About what? What a bastard you are?”       Levi sighed. These insults and anger were getting him nowhere. Venting his rage on the caged Yeager only fanned the flames inside him—the very fire he’d come to extinguish—leaving him feeling even more pathetic. Such pointless stupidity. Running a hand through his hair, Levi leaned his elbow on his knee and exhaled grimly:       “Damn it…”       Rising from his bunk, Zeke approached the bars, studying Levi closely. The captain, brooding, stared at the floor as if regretting his words. Zeke sensed it in the way Levi spoke, in the tone of his voice. Could he, too, leave it all behind? Zeke wanted to know. So he spoke again, calmly and seriously, without a hint of contempt or mockery.       “About a lot of things actually, Captain… But what does it matter now?”       “I don’t know…” Levi sighed, still not lifting his eyes, though he sensed Zeke drawing closer. With a mournful glance at the captain, Zeke sighed and sank to the floor by the bars, leaning his back against them.       “Neither do I, Captain. Or why am I even alive, for instance…” Scratching his ear with his index finger, he suddenly asked, “Got any cigarettes? I’m really craving one…”       “Nope,” Levi snapped. “You’ll be fine.”              “None?” Zeke repeated, disappointed. “Shame…”       Frowning, Levi finally raised his head. Now, with only Zeke’s back in view, the prospect of not having to talk face-to-face felt more comfortable, more suitable. So he continued, calmer and more sincere:       “I shouldn’t be alive either. And can you even call me alive…” he said darkly. “Just a cripple.”       “We’re all cripples in some way, Captain…” Zeke remarked philosophically, then turned slightly. “Maybe you could at least tell me what happened?”       “You don’t remember?” Levi asked skeptically.       “Not really…” Zeke shook his head. “And the locals haven’t exactly filled me in.”       “That’s not what I expected…” Levi muttered with a sigh.       He hadn’t anticipated this. He’d assumed Zeke remembered everything, or at least had been told what he didn’t know. But now, it seemed Yeager wasn’t lying. It didn’t feel like he was. So, speaking a bit louder, Levi gave the simplest explanation:       “The Rumbling was stopped. But at a heavy cost to humanity.”       “How heavy?” Zeke asked, still not looking at Levi, staring somewhere ahead. “Any… estimates?”       “Eren told Armin about it in the Paths, or wherever that happens,” Levi said, pausing briefly before continuing in a hollow tone. “He said about a fifth of the population survived.”       Zeke fell silent for a moment, clearly processing the news. Levi just kept staring at his back until Yeager sighed, though without much regret.       “Well, damn…”       “Well, damn…” Levi echoed. “And it’s all because of you and your brother. Though…” He recalled that fateful day for some reason. “According to Armin, we wouldn’t have won without you… That you voluntarily chose to stop the Rumbling and convinced the past Titans.” Hearing himself say something akin to defending Zeke Yeager, Levi quickly added, “But don’t think that excuses you even a little.”       “I wasn’t planning to justify myself, Captain…” Zeke replied calmly, then asked with a hint of genuine interest, “Armin’s alive? Who else?”       No, Levi was absolutely unprepared for these questions. He’d thought that, even locked in a dungeon, Zeke would at least get newspapers or hear the major events, but… he was completely clueless. Levi hated being the bearer of news, but he had no choice but to take on the role. Thinking about who Zeke might care about, he listed them off, not counting on his fingers—though he instinctively twitched his hand as if to do so, stopping himself for obvious reasons:       “From our side—Mikasa, Armin, Jean, Connie, Historia. From yours—Reiner, Pieck, Annie, Gabi, Falco, Yelena, Onyankopon. As you can see, everyone from the Alliance survived. No idea about your family. Eren, Floch, the previous Jaw—dead.”       Feeling some relief that Pieck was alive, surprise that Reiner had survived, and mixed emotions about Eren’s death, Zeke remarked with feigned indifference:       “More of ours. That’s nice…” Closing his eyes, he rubbed them with his fingers and asked, “You said Eren’s dead? How’d it happen?”       “It’s nice to him…” Levi muttered irritably. This attitude toward lives—as mere statistics for measuring success or failure—infuriated him most. So, continuing, he snapped, “Found something to be happy about. Eren was killed. Thanks to Armin and…” He hesitated, reluctantly finishing, “You. You swayed the past Titans to our side. Without you, Eren couldn’t control the Titans. They just froze. Royal blood, all that crap. Mikasa dealt the final blow. Decapitated him. After that, the power of the Titans vanished. Don’t know why.”       Finishing his story, Levi shrugged, though Zeke couldn’t see it, as if to sum it up. He’d meant to take Zeke’s head himself but hadn’t. Why was he thinking about that now? Zeke, still rubbing his eyes, responded thoughtfully:       “Got it…”       “That’s why you won’t die in a couple of months,” Levi added. “No power, no curse. No more shifters. But you still managed to regrow your torso and legs.” He grimaced in disgust. “You heal like a worm.”       “Like a lizard…” Zeke corrected with a chuckle.       Levi grimaced harder.       “Nitpicker.”       “If you cut a worm in half, both halves keep living independently,” Zeke explained, chuckling softly. “Lizards regrow their tails. Not that hard to remember, right, Captain?” Losing even that faint forced cheer, he said thoughtfully, “So I won’t die…”       “What, you want to?” Levi asked, his disgust fading as he recalled Zeke shouting for him to notice and kill him. He faltered, realizing that was likely true.       “What do you think, Captain?” Zeke asked seriously, making it clear the question was rhetorical. “I doubt there’s anyone who needs me. I’m, as you put it…” He gave a humorless smirk, almost quoting, “A heartless piece of shit. A bastard. A worm… Did I miss anything?” Though Levi felt no pity for Yeager, something inside him stirred faintly after hearing those words. Unconsciously, he applied Zeke’s words to himself. Unneeded. Unwilling to live. A survivor’s mistake.       “Well, some of your people were glad you survived,” he said more grimly, but without his earlier irritation. “And you’re also a monkey and a four-eyes. Were,” he added quickly, then said thoughtfully, “I don’t even know what to call you now…”       “How about by my name, Captain?” Zeke asked, almost hopefully. “It’s not that long, you know…”       “Yeah, mine’s not either,” Levi interrupted, even letting out a faint chuckle. “Guess I’ll have to come up with something else…”       Lost in thought again, Levi ran a hand through his hair, leaning forward. Zeke sighed, slightly offended, but trying to act indifferent muttered:       “Fine… Didn’t care that much…”       “Look at you getting offended now…” Levi shot Yeager a displeased glance, still hunched over. “That’s what bothers you most right now? What I’ll call you?”       “What else should bother me?” Zeke asked, glancing at him. “I don’t exactly have a wide range of activities, as you might’ve noticed, Levi.”       Despite a short exhale at Zeke using his name, Levi maintained his stoic expression and grimaced.       “So nothing else matters to you. Pathetic. Not long ago, you were preaching about your grand plans, killing people for their cause. And now?”       “I’m in a cell,” Zeke replied impassively, as if thinking aloud, looking ahead again. “The power of the Titans is gone. Eighty percent of humanity is dead. And, as I said, I’ve had time to think. What plans can I have now? Sit in this cell forever, Levi? Or do you have better ideas?”       “Stop pitying yourself,” Levi said with utter disdain. “You can at least walk. Even in confinement, you’re not a burden. And your friends—some of them—survived. And you survived, even though, damn it, you shouldn’t have.” He sighed sadly, regretting his words, and added sharply, “Enough whining.”       “By the way, why did I survive, Captain?” Zeke latched onto his words, asking with what seemed like genuine curiosity. “Care to enlighten me? I’m pretty sure I asked you to kill me…”       Levi knew he’d brought this question on himself, one he’d expected and even tried to prepare for. But he hadn’t come up with a good answer. He’d always been better at improvising, he told himself. As if hearing the question would make it easier. Whether it did or didn’t, Levi wasn’t sure yet, but there was no dodging it now. He had to answer. He stared at Zeke’s back, thinking. Why?       And then… suddenly, he realized the reason. It hit him like a bolt from within, and he saw clearly. Levi slid awkwardly from his chair onto the cold stone floor, dragging his injured leg as he pulled himself toward the bars with his hands. Leaning against them not far from Zeke, now certain he wouldn’t feel the piercing gaze of another man, Levi answered sincerely:       “I don’t know. I just… saw you. And thought, after so many losses, was there even any point in spilling more blood? Even for revenge? Would he have wanted that?” Placing a hand on his forehead, he sighed and confessed, “I’m too tired of killing…”       Zeke fell silent for a moment. Shifting slightly, he leaned against the bars directly opposite of Levi’s back, feeling it through the metal, and nodded.       “And there’s your answer why…” He echoed with a sigh. “Too tired… And I never really liked doing it either…”       “I always thought I was killing mindless Titans, not people,” Levi continued, struck by the sincerity in Zeke’s words and opening up himself. “It turned my perspective upside down when I learned they were all previously people… After that, killing humans got easier, but I was never happy about it.” Recalling events from nearly five years ago, he reminded Zeke in a much colder tone, “Though you seemed to enjoy throwing those rocks. Didn’t like it, huh…”       “It was their choice…” Zeke hunched, pulling his knees to his chest. “A pointless, bloody, final charge… It was a mistake.” He sighed and admitted frankly, “Yes, I threw rocks, but the whole time, I kept thinking… Why are they doing this…”       “To protect their loved ones,” Levi answered almost immediately, having long analyzed the question himself. “Their home. The future. At the cost of their lives. Does that make sense to you?”       After pondering Levi’s words, as if weighing them, Zeke exhaled:       “Well… maybe… But you know, if everything had gone according to plan, they wouldn’t have succeeded.”       “Whose plan?” Levi frowned. “Yours? Our plan worked. He always knew how to make plans. I’m just the idiot who couldn’t finish you. So many times…”       “All of them,” Zeke chuckled, then asked with undisguised curiosity, “By the way, why didn’t you kill me the first time? You had the perfect chance… All you had to do was push the handle, and the blade would’ve gone through my brain, ending me. But you looked at me… with hesitation.” Finding the word, Zeke addressed him directly, “What was going through your head then, Levi?”       “…I hesitated,” Levi replied reluctantly, keeping it short.       Only now did he realize Zeke was leaning against him. Lost in thought, he hadn’t noticed before. Now, unconsciously seeking some human connection, Levi leaned back a bit more, his head brushing the bars and Zeke’s back. Zeke, who hadn’t felt human warmth or spoken to anyone in ages, nearly flinched at the unexpected contact, unsure what to anticipate. But when he realized there was no danger—quite the opposite—he sighed and said matter-of-factly:       “Well, that mistake cost you all dearly…” Almost without pause, in the same factual tone, he asked, “You wanted to revive someone by feeding me to them, right?”       “Yeah…” Levi swallowed hard. “Our… commander. Without him… Without him, I saw no point in going on. He was humanity’s only hope.”       “Got it…” Zeke sighed, recalling that Reiner had mentioned their commander on Paradis. Reiner had also warned about the danger of Captain Levi, noting how close the two were. The raw grief in Levi’s voice now only confirmed it. Back in the forest, Zeke had tried to pinpoint the reason for Levi’s intense personal hatred toward him. Yes, they were enemies, but Levi’s hostility felt deeply personal. Now it all made sense. This commander… Zeke vaguely recalled soldiers whispering about Levi and this man. Something about devotion. After a moment’s thought, Zeke asked in the same calm, matter-of-fact tone, “You loved him?”       Levi flinched. Hearing such a question from Zeke, his enemy—the one responsible for his beloved’s death—felt like a knife twisting in his heart. But lying was pointless. Zeke had clearly felt him flinch. And after so much time, Levi no longer wanted to deny his feelings for Erwin Smith. Sighing, he exhaled in a broken voice:       “Yeah.”       Feeling the shudder in Levi’s back, Zeke knew his shot-in-the-dark question had hit the mark. The answer didn’t surprise him, but Levi’s honesty did, and Zeke noted it mentally, responding with a touch of sincerity:       “Condolences,” Scratching his ear thoughtfully, he added, “He didn’t have to lead that charge…”       “He did,” Levi said firmly. “He was the commander. The recruits wouldn’t have gone to their deaths if he hadn’t led them. And I told him to do it. To die.” Levi ran the fingers of his good left hand through his hair, his right hand brushing his head, and shuddered again. He was pouring out long-buried pain he’d never shared with anyone. Zeke, unprepared for such words, shuddered too, barely resisting the urge to turn to Levi, but suppressing it, he asked in surprise:       “But why?”       “To give him resolve," Levi sighed. “I saw he was waiting for those words from me. That he needed them to let go of his dream and grow up. And I said it. Though deep down, I hoped he wouldn’t die. Or that I’d have time to revive him.” Unconsciously answering Zeke’s earlier question about why he hadn’t killed him right away, Levi pressed his lips together bitterly. Remembering Erwin was painful. Talking about him for the first time in years. And to his killer, no less—what a ludicrous choice. But once he’d started, stopping was hard. Zeke, rubbing his nose as if his glasses were still there—those glasses, though of course they were long gone, like so much else he’d tried to hold onto, always turning to ash—began to feel Levi’s grief, for which he was indirectly responsible. Now understanding the root of Levi’s fierce hatred, he exhaled in a quieter voice:       “I get it… That’s why… Understood.”       Nodding, Levi sighed again and pulled his good leg toward himself, leaving the injured one helplessly extended.       “And he survived… After the barrage. Barely.”       “Really?” Zeke’s eyes widened. He caught himself genuinely intrigued. He suddenly wanted to understand the man sitting beside him, leaning against him through the bars. A fleeting thought crossed his mind—they were still on opposite sides… It made him sigh with a touch of sadness, waiting for Levi’s response.       “Yeah,” Levi exhaled softly. “Floch brought him… We had your… what was it…” Giving up on recalling the name, Levi said simply, “The Colossal. And there was a choice—revive him or Armin. And I chose…”       “Armin,” Zeke finished for him.       “Yeah. Armin,” Levi snapped, a defensive reflex. “You saw him, four-…” Angrier, he cut himself off.       “Four-eyes,” Zeke finished without malice, then extended his right hand, studying it thoughtfully. “Actually, my vision’s always been fine. And yeah, I saw him. But I don’t quite get why you made that choice. Care to share?”       “You’re not even a four-eyes anymore…” Levi muttered irritably. “And… I…”       He took a breath. Sharing his deepest truths with Zeke was as reckless as sharing anything with him. But… despite all their differences, Levi concluded that no one else alive could understand him like Zeke. Among the living, Zeke was tied to more of his memories than anyone. Almost all were horrific, yet they were tied. Plus, Zeke was in a cell, with no one to blab to, and he wouldn’t anyway. Yes. If Levi was going to open up to anyone, it was him. So, making peace with himself, he continued:       “They called him a devil. Thought he hadn’t suffered enough, that he should keep suffering. But I… I thought he’d had enough. He deserved rest. I let him die so he wouldn’t have to fight anymore. I didn’t want to drag him back into this shitty world when he was so close to peace… Inner peace, within himself.” Glancing back slightly, Levi asked a question he’d asked himself so often, “Tell me, am I an idiot?”       “Not at all…” Zeke even chuckled, struck by how close this idea was to his own plans, his own thoughts. “Some might disagree. But… I was thinking the same way. So I think I really get you here, Levi.” After a brief pause, he added quietly, “Would he have understood?”       Leaning away from the bars, Levi hunched over his bent knee, hugging it, and whispered almost inaudibly:       “If you knew how often I ask myself that…”       With affirmation, empathy, and understanding in his voice, Zeke replied in nearly the same tone:       “Too often…”       Levi swallowed hard. He couldn’t explain why Zeke understood him and his feelings so precisely. For the first time in years, Levi encountered this kind of connection. Zeke Yeager shouldn’t have been that “someone.” But Levi had come here, started this conversation, and trusted that nothing said in this dungeon would ever leave it. Almost like a confession. So he kept talking.       “I really think I did the right thing. That I spared him from all of this. That he didn’t see what happened. But sometimes…” Levi leaned back against the bars again, deliberately, to feel another’s presence. “Sometimes I think how much I miss him. How I need him. That he wouldn’t have let this happen. That I should’ve saved him, that I chose wrong. Zeke…” He turned his head slightly, glancing at Zeke’s shoulder and light-haired back of his head. “How selfish am I?”       Hearing his name from Levi’s mouth, so unexpectedly, Zeke exhaled softly. Ackerman, this grim shorty, an enemy who’d caused him so much trouble, turned out to be so kindred in spirit, closer than Eren, his parents—anyone, except perhaps Mr. Ksaver. Back in the forest, what felt like an eternity ago, Zeke had decided Levi could never understand him. But now he felt differently. As if Levi was the last person who could. Pressing his back harder against the bars, he turned his head slightly, meeting Levi’s gray eye.       “No more than any of us, Levi…” he said, then repeated softer, “No more than any of us… I had…” Zeke hesitated, wondering if he should share, but decided to continue. “I had… a friend. A mentor. Mr. Ksaver. He was like a father to me. He was the only one in my life who saw me as…” Sighing, Zeke couldn’t bring himself to say “a good person” in front of Levi, so he said instead, “A simple kid. We played catch almost every day for the few years I trained as a Warrior. I later inherited his Beast Titan… And his mission. His ideas. His glasses…” Zeke sighed sadly, recalling the glasses were long gone. “And I still think about him. Sometimes I wonder—what if things had been different? If I could’ve just played catch with him forever, nothing else? But… It turned out how it turned out, Captain. You really wanted what was best.”       Zeke looked away, staring ahead, and Levi did the same. Levi’s lips twitched slightly, and he inhaled too sharply, hearing those words from Zeke, whom, for some reason, he wanted to believe despite everything. He truly wanted to believe he’d done the right thing, wanted to ask more about his own buried pain, but… Zeke was sharing his pain too. That piqued Levi’s interest, and, wanting to show some mutual engagement, he tried to recall.       “So that’s why you wore those stupid glasses and freaked out when they fell off. I kept wondering what that reaction was about… Bet your parents didn’t give a damn about you, huh?”       “Perceptive…” Zeke smirked. “Not exactly ‘didn’t give a damn,’ as you put it, but…” He paused, choosing his words. “Let’s say they saw me more as a tool for their ‘noble ideals’ than a son, or even a person. Their revolutionary ideas mattered to them more than I ever did.” Yeager gave a humorless chuckle. “Good enough answer, Captain?”       “Yeah,” Levi replied, lowering his gaze to his knee. “It’s enough. And explains a lot…” It seemed Zeke had his own reasons for doing what he did. Maybe he wasn’t the heartless monster Levi had believed him to be all these years. Talking to Zeke now, Levi no longer felt like he was speaking to a demon, a murderer, or a maniac. It was… strange. As if there was a catch, because it couldn’t really be like this. Yet something urged Levi to keep talking, to share things known only to a few who were no longer alive.       “My mother died when I was little. She worked in a brothel, so I don’t even know who my father was. I nearly starved until my uncle found me. A serial killer. He saved me, fed me, taught me to handle weapons. Then he abandoned me too. I barely grew up… Survived alone, however I could, a bandit, stealing to get by in the Underground. And then…” He recalled with bittersweet warmth, “Then he found me…”       “So that’s why…” Zeke chuckled, tempted to say “you’re so short,” but held back and instead said, “He saw potential in you, brought it out, and you served him in gratitude. Right?”       “Well…” Levi even chuckled back, not noticing the brief pause. “First, I tried to kill him. But then, yeah, something like that. He showed me what was worth fighting for. And brought me into the light. In every sense. And yeah. I swore to serve him to the end. To follow him wherever he leads…” He tilted his head slightly, gazing sadly at the ceiling. “And I never regretted it for a single second…”       “Kill him?” Zeke repeated with a smirk, having deliberately not interrupted earlier to let Levi finish. “Really? And how’d that change?”       “It was a job,” Levi explained, not noticing how he began answering more relaxedly, somehow soothed by less painful memories and the chance to finally share them. “I was hired to kill him. He was about to expose some rich bastards, and they didn’t like it. But he did it anyway. I didn’t even have time to act. And also…” Levi’s voice sank. “During my first expedition beyond the walls, two of my friends were eaten by Titans. I got angry and attacked him. But he stopped my blade with his hand…” Levi’s gaze fell to his bandaged right hand, missing two fingers. “Outright caught it. And then he made me see what I could fight for. It was like… a revelation.”       Listening intently, Zeke hesitated to break the silence. Growing more invested in Levi’s story—having once seen him merely as an “Ackerman,” a cold, near-emotionless killing machine—he now awaited more. But Levi fell silent abruptly, so Zeke cautiously prompted:       “So… since you were hired to kill him… You were already pretty good with weapons? Blades? Before him?” Thinking of the commander again, Zeke chuckled, grudgingly impressed. “Caught a blade bare-handed, you say? Not bad. Could’ve lost his hand…”       “Yeah. He caught it,” Levi said, even smiling faintly, recalling that Erwin. Decisive, strong, confident. Leading everyone, persuading anyone. Still, he couldn’t resist adding, “Idiot…”       “And?” Zeke pressed. “That’s when you decided, right, Levi?”       “Yeah. His words really convinced me. My whole body…” Recalling the feeling, Levi clenched his fists, his right hand twinging with pain. “It was like electricity shot through me. And I knew I’d follow him. Anywhere. The only serious choice I’ve never regretted.”       Zeke nodded, and with complete seriousness—whether referring to the choice, the commander, or both—said:       “You were lucky he was like that. Really lucky. That’s worth a lot.”       “Probably,” Levi exhaled, almost relieved, hearing no judgment, mockery, or anything worse. “But losing it all hurts too much. Like part of you’s been cut off…” Trying to shift from the painful topic, he added with a faint smirk, “You’d know about that.”       “Insanely painful,” Zeke confirmed with a chuckle. “And you never get used to it…”       “Well, you probably won’t have to anymore. You can’t regrow them like a lizard now. Better be more cautious.”       “Look at that, you remembered…” Zeke replied with a mix of respect and a smirk, then, without transition, added seriously, “I hope you won’t either.”       “I’ve already lost enough,” Levi said darkly, glancing at his outstretched left leg. “They said I’ll never walk again.”       “I wasn’t talking about that, but…”       Sighing, Zeke fell silent. Explaining to Levi that he meant something else felt awkward. Yes, Levi’s physical losses were obvious—bandaged hand and head, the wheelchair. It was clear those weighed on him most, reminding him every second. And Levi couldn’t stand appearing vulnerable or weak, but emotional losses… In the long run, they hurt more. Zeke knew he was responsible for both Levi’s physical and emotional losses, and now he stayed quiet, wondering if he should apologize and whether it would even change anything. Levi, sensing the tension and prolonged silence, spoke first.       “Don’t worry. I can’t walk because of something else, not that explosion.” He glanced at his leg again, almost regretfully. “I can’t even blame you for putting me in a wheelchair.”       “Regretting that, Captain?” Zeke chuckled with a hint of sarcasm, despite still being uncertain. “That I wasn’t the cause of at least one thing?”       “If you trace it back a bit further, it’s still your fault,” Levi shot back. “But I hate pinning blame where it doesn’t belong. So, not you. But because of you, I’m blind in one eye and down to three fingers on my right hand. So you still get an A-plus for effort.”       “I’d love to say I tried, but alas…” Zeke even smiled slightly, spreading his hands. “Just a sheer accident.”       “Some damn accident…” Levi muttered, turning to his knees.       This conversation with Zeke wasn’t going as he’d expected. The suspicion of a catch was fading, feeling more like a pattern. At first, it seemed like the traveler’s syndrome—an urge to spill secrets, discuss buried issues, assuming this was their last meeting and they’d never speak again, making it safe to bare their souls. But it didn’t feel like that anymore. It felt like… understanding. A seed of doubt sprouted in Levi’s mind, bringing a very foolish idea. A very, very foolish idea. But before deciding what to do, he turned to Yeager and called out thoughtfully:       “Zeke?”       “Hm?” Zeke turned to meet him.       “Do you still want to die?” Levi asked, utterly serious, no hint of a joke. “See any point in all this?”       “Why, decided to kill me after all?” Zeke gave a humorless smirk. “Well… I wouldn’t mind. As for the second question…” He sighed. “What point is there, Captain? I lost that a long ago.” Zeke’s answers… were identical to Levi’s own. Levi would’ve said the same, without hesitation or doubt. And that response was the final push he needed to make another terribly questionable decision. Pulling the keyring from his jacket, he gripped the bars with his good hand and hauled himself up. With his other hand, he fumbled the key into the lock and opened the door. Then he lowered himself back to the freezing floor with a heavy thud. Hearing the jangle of keys and the soft creak of the door, Zeke couldn’t believe his ears, but when the sound confirmed it, he turned, staring in shock at Levi’s dark-haired head.       “Hey, Captain, what’s this?” he asked, bewildered. “Lost your mind?”       “I lost my mind a long time ago, Once-Four-Eyes,” Levi sighed, leaning relaxed against the bars. “I’m setting you free. Call it amnesty.”       “Is that a new nickname?” Zeke asked, even more skeptical, still staring at Levi’s nape. “If so, it’s not funny. Neither is your ‘freedom.’ Why would you do this?”       “The world’s gone to too much shit for you to rot in here,” Levi replied thoughtfully, emotionlessly. “I’m giving you a chance. But I’ll be watching you. To make sure you don’t pull anything…”       Truthfully, though Levi hated admitting it even to himself, he needed some company to stop climbing the walls from loneliness. And the company of someone who, despite causing so much pain, understood it like no one else, didn’t seem like the worst option. It was worth a try. He had nothing precious left to lose. Nothing at all to lose.       “With one eye? Not like you can do a lot of watching…” Zeke chuckled. “More like I’ll be watching you. To make sure you don’t pull anything.” He stood, walked around the bars, and stepped out of the cell, thoughtfully inspecting it from the outside. “They took me out before, but this feels different…”       “Took you out?” Levi asked, turning to Zeke, ignoring his jabs.       “From the cell,” Zeke replied, stretching and cracking his back. “For… natural needs.”       “Oh. Yeah,” Levi grimaced. “Otherwise, it’d stink even worse.”       “Well, sorry…” Zeke chuckled, now stretching his stiff legs. “I swear, it already stank when they locked me in.”       “I believe you. But you definitely didn’t help.”       “Ugh, Captain…” Zeke replied, pretending to be offended. “Sorry I don’t meet your refined sense of smell…”       “You don’t meet a lot of standards…” Levi muttered, shrugging.       He looked up at Zeke. Back in the forest, Levi had stared at Yeager plenty, barely taking his eyes off him for a month. Now, Zeke looked much worse. Sunken cheeks, even his overgrown beard couldn’t hide it, overgrown nails, dull eyes, grayed skin. And yet, he was alive. In the end, they were both alive only because of each other. Both scarred inside and out, both lonely and broken. Still, one question nagged at Levi. He’d answered it for Zeke, but Zeke hadn’t for him.       “Why’d you save me?” he asked with a weary sigh.       “Ask me something easier, Captain…” Zeke replied, stretching his neck, but then stopped and looked at Levi, shrugging. “Maybe I thought I’d return the favor from the first time. Maybe I felt sorry for you. Maybe I wanted to gain something out of it. I don’t even know.”       “Well, you gained something,” Levi answered for him. “No one else would’ve ever let you out. You’d have died in your own filth. Now you’ll die somewhere else.”       “Thanks for the ‘somewhere else’…” Zeke scratched his neck, pulling a dissatisfied face. “Go wherever, right?” Exhaling, he added more seriously, “But honestly, you’re the last person I’d have expected this from…”       “Well…” Levi looked away. “I didn’t come here for this. And I’m not letting you go ‘wherever’. I said I’ll be watching. To make sure you behave. So you’re…” He hesitated, searching for the right word. “Next to me. Got it?”       Zeke studied Levi’s face for a moment, then, as if convinced of something, chuckled.       “Got it, Captain. Not afraid I’ll run off again?”       Sighing, Levi looked up and answered confidently, though grimly:       “No. Just like I’m not afraid you’ll kill me. I’d even be thankful.”       “Same here, Captain,” Zeke replied after a brief pause. “If it comes to that.”       Levi gave Zeke another critical look, thinking they probably wouldn’t kill each other. Not right away, at least. Otherwise, loneliness would consume them both. This was a strange chance at understanding. So, mentally apologizing to Erwin for not killing Zeke and now granting him amnesty, Levi resolved to accept what he decided and said as coldly as possible:       “Well, I’d have to try hard if I wanted to.”       “Think so?” Zeke pointed at the pistol on the chair. “You could shoot me with one eye, even from that chair. And everyone would only thank you.”       “I hate those damn things…” Levi clicked his tongue, having genuinely forgotten about the pistol. “And you could shoot me right now too.”       “Well, good thing I don’t want to,” Zeke said, flashing a forced cheerfulness.       “Sure…” Levi muttered, then spoke louder, more irritably, “Can you help me get back in this shitty chair already? Not tired of watching me sit helpless on the floor?”       “Oh…” Zeke smiled, rubbing his eyes. “Carrying you again… Well, gotta be grateful…” Bending down, he scooped Levi up. Even weakened, he found it effortless, as if the captain weighed nothing. Zeke settled him in the chair, then leaned his elbows on the handles. “Any more requests?”       “You’ll push me,” Levi said, adjusting his injured leg on the footrest with both hands, not turning to Zeke.       “Fine,” Zeke replied thoughtfully, eyeing the chair. “For now.”       “What’s ‘for now’?” Levi squinted, finally turning to Zeke. “Until I fly? Too late to learn.”       “Until I fix this chair, you genious…” Zeke sighed, meeting Levi’s gaze. “Back home, we retired these. Absolute relics.”       “Really?” Levi lowered his gaze, inspecting the chair. “This is what your people gave me. We didn’t even have these. And they said not to expect anything else, nothing available.”       “Well, they lied,” Zeke concluded. “We had decent chairs, and this…” He patted the handles. “This is junk. But fine. I’ll figure something out. Maybe you’d be able to move it yourself.”       Squinting skeptically, Levi shifted his gaze from the chair to Zeke and back, irritated at being deceived but wary of trusting Zeke with his only means of mobility.       “We’ll see. You’ll probably break it with your clumsy hands. And I’m not giving you anything sharp—you’d probably stab yourself. Though…” Levi reconsidered. “If you stab yourself, so be it, doesn’t matter to me. But you need scissors and a razor. You look like hell.”       “Yeah, yeah,” Zeke grinned. “Overgrown monkey… Stabbing myself? That’s more of Reiner’s thing. I definitely wouldn’t trust him with that…”       “Reiner’s got others looking after him,” Levi said indifferently. “And he’s got a heightened sense of duty. He won’t kill himself, no matter how much he wants to. Plus, most of his friends are alive. He’ll be fine.”       “Oh… got it,” Zeke replied, equally indifferent but with a hint of envy in his tone. “Well, I’m not planning to either. I’ve got to…” He paused, as if searching for the word, then continued, “Right. Watch you.”       Levi shook his head, frowning discontentedly.       “I’m watching you. You’re on community service. Helping the disabled.”       “Yeah, yeah…” Zeke waved it off. “You know calling it something else doesn’t change what it is, right?”       “It does,” Levi countered. “I’m watching to make sure you behave, and you’re making sure I don’t shit myself. There’s a difference.”       “And who’s the nitpicker now…” Zeke sighed, shaking his head. “It’s still watching, Levi, no matter how you spin it…”       “Fine. Whatever,” Levi conceded, tired of arguing. “We watch each other, then. And you’ll be useful for something, not just eating rations.”       “Yes, sir, Captain!” Zeke replied with a smug grin.       “Just push already,” Levi ordered, clicking his tongue. Then it hit him—the Military Police soldiers were waiting upstairs. Resting his forehead on his hand, he sighed. “Damn… I’ll have to explain why I’m letting you out.” Pausing, he muttered under his breath, “As if I even know…”       Grabbing the chair’s handles, Zeke pushed it forward, trying to lift Levi’s spirits.       “Don’t worry, Captain, we’ll figure something out! I’m kinda in your debt now… Just tell me the way. I’m not exactly familiar with this place.”       “A dungeon’s a dungeon, straight corridor…” Levi muttered, since he knew little else himself. While being wheeled in, he’d been so lost in thought and nervous that he hadn’t registered where he was or what was around him. He recalled only one thing. “You’ll need to climb stairs up there. And as soon as we get to my place, I’m sending you to shower and trim that mess. I’m not living with an unkempt monkey.”       “What’s that?” Zeke chuckled softly. “Only okay with a groomed monkey, Captain?”       “At least a groomed one,” Levi corrected. “If I’m stuck living with a monkey… Damn…” He even smirked at the absurdity. “Voluntarily agreeing to live with you. When just a couple months ago, the only thing keeping me going was my promise to take your head.”       “You could still do it if you wanted…” Zeke smiled, nodding at the pistol. “Or shoot me, easier for everyone. But I wouldn’t have thought a month ago—or ever—that I’d ‘voluntarily agree to live with you.’ Or anyone…”       “You’re not doing it voluntarily,” Levi countered, emphasizing the point. “No one asked you. Though you’d agree to anything to get out of here, right?”       “Bullseye, Captain!” Zeke replied with the same smile.       Though he said that, Zeke thought to himself that it wasn’t exactly “anywhere.” As bad as his cell conditions were, they weren’t exactly torturous. But what any Paradisian might do to him on the surface could easily turn into torture or worse. Before this conversation by the cell, Levi had been at the top of his list of potential prosecutors, someone he wouldn’t go near even at gunpoint. But now, seeing a peculiar but genuine support and unexpected understanding in him, Zeke took the chance and pushed Levi down the corridor, stopping at the stairs leading up.       “Up there,” Levi said, raising a hand to point. “Figure it out. Me or the chair first.”       Chuckling, Zeke hoisted Levi onto his shoulders, planning to carry both him and the chair, and warned:       “Hold on tight.”       “Easy for you to say,” Levi snapped with cold fury. “With what, genius? I’ve got one hand and one leg, and overexertion makes me bleed again…”       “Oh…” Zeke said, catching himself.       “There’s your ‘oh,’ moron. Carry me properly.”       Levi smacked Zeke’s shoulder, and Zeke reluctantly shifted to hold him under the knees, carrying him forward and leaving the chair behind.       “Better?” Zeke asked, reaching the top.       “Better. But you…” Levi sniffed, scowling. “You need a bath.”       “Yeah,” Zeke agreed compliantly this time, setting Levi in a small alcove in the crumbling wall. “You said that already. Be right back…”       Descending, Zeke grabbed the chair and, red-faced from the effort, dragged it up the stairs. Setting it beside Levi, panting and sweating, he wiped his brow and, hunched over with his hands on his knees, gasped:       “Why… didn’t you call your soldiers… to do this, Levi? Whew…”       “I will, I will,” Levi said, glaring at Zeke. “Get some exercise. You’re not made from glass, you won’t break. And I’ve got to explain all this somehow.”       “Fair enough,” Zeke admitted reluctantly, lifting Levi and settling him back in the chair before grabbing the handles. “Where now?”       “Now I’m thinking…” Levi sighed, settling in, unable to recall the way to the dungeon. Trying to remember didn’t help, so he shook his head and muttered, “They brought me here… Screw it… HEY!” he shouted suddenly. “I need help! And don’t shoot Yeager!” Turning slightly to Zeke, he advised, “I’d raise my hands if I were you. Otherwise, you’ll die stupidly, without even earning your breakfast.”       “W-What?!” Zeke’s eyes widened in confusion, but he obediently raised his hands, thinking it was foolish to let him out only to kill him or drag him to trial.       At Levi’s shout, the two Military Police soldiers who’d brought him appeared. They strolled casually down the hall, chatting, in no hurry, but the moment Zeke came into view, they changed. Both sprinted forward, slinging rifles from their backs and aiming at Zeke, who tensed, his heart pounding.       “Captain! What’s going on?” the first soldier blurted. “How’d you get up here?!”       “How’s Yeager out of his cell?!” the second, blond soldier interrupted, the one who’d given Levi the pistol, still aiming at Zeke. “Give the order to shoot him, Captain!”       “Lower your weapons!” Levi roared. “I freed him! He’ll be my caretaker so I don’t burden someone useful! And he’ll still be isolated from most people!”       “What are you talking about, Captain?!” the blond soldier tried again. “Yeager’s dangerous! He’ll kill you without blinking!”       “He won’t kill me,” Levi said, returning to a calm tone. “He could’ve already. So he’s riding with me in the carriage to my house in Wall Sina. I’ll keep an eye on him.”       The soldiers exchanged skeptical glances but, unable to defy a superior’s orders, had to comply. The dark-haired soldier lowered his rifle and headed for the door to the street, while the blond kept Zeke in his sights until Levi snapped at him.       “Move. Yeager’s under my control.”       Reluctantly, the blond soldier headed down the hall, and Levi turned slightly to Zeke.       “Well. They didn’t shoot you. Congrats.”       Zeke, frozen in fear the whole time, expecting a bullet any second, swallowed nervously and replied:       “For now, Captain. Can I lower my hands?”       “Unless you plan to push the chair with your feet, monkey, you don’t have to.”              “It’s not me with a bunch of soldiers on a leash,” Zeke shot back, grabbing the chair and pushing it forward. “I can’t believe it… You had no plan.”       “It worked.”       “Yeah, but you had no plan,” Zeke repeated, more irritably, emphasizing the words. “You can’t do that, Levi! A little more, and they’d have shot me. Dying now would be pretty stupid, don’t you think?”       “Look at that,” Levi chuckled. “I gave you a will to live. And for free.”       “‘Will’ is a strong word, Captain.”       “What would you call it?” Levi glanced up at Zeke. “Accepting life?” Sighing, he lowered his face. “I’ve been living in that for the last five years…”       “Longer for me…” Zeke sighed back. “But it’s a decent name, Levi. Pretty good.”       Acceptance. Levi wondered if they could ease that “acceptance” for each other, even through endless bickering. Zeke was undeniably dangerous, no matter what Levi said aloud. And he was prone to escaping, as Levi knew firsthand. As Zeke pushed him toward the carriage, Levi grew more doubtful of his decision but refused to back down. Still, when he reached the street and spotted the carriage, the looming prospect of being alone with Zeke again made him uneasy. He didn’t know what to expect.