What We Do in the Shadows

      The city noise pressed on his ears, forcing Levi to hurry past the chattering passersby and cunning vendors. He wanted to get out of here as soon as possible, to dash through this carnival and finally reach headquarters. The city was teeming with people, stinking of filth and sweat.       The market was a perfectly curated blend of enchanting aromas—rotting fish and latrine. Levi flew past the stalls, not daring to even glance at their contents.       “Hey, boy, look over here,” an unfamiliar voice called out.       A crude “fuck off” died on his lips as Levi jerked his head up and saw her.       He didn’t notice the rusted metal bars and the crowd gathered around the cage at first. A few slavers stood nearby, and Levi reluctantly shifted his gaze to the one who had called him. A bloated, slovenly man jangled a ring of long keys, looking straight at Levi with a challenge.       “Come on, come on, take a closer look, such beauties!”       Levi had already taken a step forward, he had no time to loiter in the square, collecting stench on his green cloak, but his gaze involuntarily returned to the cage.       The girl stood very close to the bars, her empty, unseeing gaze fixed somewhere in the distance.       “You like her?” one of the men with a nasty smirk ran his hand along the bars, moving closer to the girl. “What are you standing there for like a sleepy fly, come on!”       He jabbed her in the side with a key, and she flinched, staring at the slaver. He unlocked the cage, roughly dragging the girl out onto the street. Bare, dirty feet stepped onto the cobblestones.       Levi couldn’t look away. He examined her greedily, as if choosing a horse for an expedition. Beautiful. Tall, with long black hair, she was looking right through him. Large, sad grey eyes, like the sky right before a storm, slowly examined him in return. An unusual shape. Uncommon. And milky-white skin.       “I’ll give you a discount—she’s not a child anymore.”       Levi looked her over from head to toe once more, sizing her up.       “Show her.”       The slaver, without delay, pulled up the fabric of the shirt that barely covered her knees, and the girl obediently raised her arms, allowing herself to be exposed.       His heart slowed for a moment, gathering strength to beat faster. The slender, delicate, white body with pink nipples, like spring buds, seemed to have stepped out of elegant palace paintings. How did this creature end up in the square, in this dirt and stench? So young, but already crisscrossed with cuts and scars, it was beautiful. Beautiful as a doll.       Levi immediately noticed how quiet, broken, and obedient she was. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to finally get himself a little companion?       “How much?”       “Two gold.”       Levi hesitated. Not too expensive. Something was off with this girl. He quickly ran through the diseases he knew in his head and grimaced. Even if it’s only two gold, keeping a slave who might die soon is a thankless task.       “What’s wrong with her?”       “She’ll be eighteen soon.”       Levi nodded. I see, so just old.       He examined her exposed body again, and she stood ramrod straight, not moving a muscle, as if nudity no longer held any meaning for her, as if standing naked among people was akin to breathing for her. Of course. A pleasure slave. What did he expect?       Her previously peach-coloured lips began to turn blue. Levi realised she was freezing and hunched in his own cloak. It really wasn’t warm.       Two bright coins gleamed in the sun as they fell into the slaver’s open, dirty palm.

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      Getting a woman for himself was commonplace. Many bought themselves the chance to quickly relieve tension without thinking about the dirty, stinking bedbug nests proudly called brothels. Levi despised going to those places, despite his body’s urges. Buying a girl was the easiest. Often clean, having belonged to a couple of previous owners for a long time, they were like obedient, trained little dogs that could be kept close.       The luckier ones ended up with the rich, living in comfort and luxury, paying with their bodies. The unlucky ones ended up in the army.       As soon as the higher-ups grew tired of their new toy, they handed them over to lower-ranked soldiers. No one bothered to check what was done to those girls. Everyone knew one thing—after a while, they vanished without a trace. That was even better. Extra mouths were never welcome in the army. More soft-hearted officers tried to resell the girls, but no one wanted slaves after the soldiers. Understandable. Worn-out, barely alive, they couldn’t interest anyone.

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      The room was warm. The stone walls retained the stuffiness of early autumn. A faint fresh breeze barely drifted in from the window. Levi examined the washed girl standing before him as if he hadn’t gotten his fill in the square. Slender arms, slender legs. All of her was somehow slender. And despite her build, her breasts and hips were just right. Even hidden by a clean shirt, they stood out clearly through the thick, coarse fabric.       “Name.”       He looked at her from under his brows, expecting an answer. Stern, cold, attentive. The girl didn’t react to his gaze, looked the same way—right through him.       “Call me whatever you wish, sir.”       “Name,” Levi repeated louder. He had no time to invent nicknames.       “Mikasa,” she whispered in a low voice.       Had it been a long time since she’d said her own name? A single thought flashed through his mind—beautiful. Everything about her was beautiful—her body, face, skin, even her scent. The light smell of her body tickled his nostrils. Her hair smelled pleasant, washed with his soap, and Levi moved closer, ran his hand through it, smoothing it along its length, wrapping a strand around his fist.       Too long.       “Cut it. The last thing I need is for you to catch lice.”       Mikasa nodded. Obedient. Good. Levi couldn’t stand objections from women. A slave had to be uncomplaining, quiet, and submissive. He didn’t understand men who liked girls with spirit, paying huge prices for a headstrong beauty. Levi didn’t want some crazy girl to bite his dick off.       He lazily sank into the chair, pulling papers off the desk.       “Get to work.”       Levi ambiguously gestured towards his pants, but Mikasa understood everything, knelt, unclasped the belt with a clink, unbuttoned the buttons. His cock slid easily out of his pants.       Arousal had been pulsing below for a long time. The mere sight of this Mikasa stirred his being, but Levi didn’t watch. He read the report, trying to match the tedious signatures and numbers.       A pleasant spasm shot through his body. Mikasa enveloped him with soft lips, skilfully sliding down, coating his cock with her tongue. Levi groaned and threw his head back. It was so wet and hot inside her mouth that he involuntarily thrust his hips forward, making her take more.       It had been a long time since he’d had a woman. Everything inside was burning, craving. He had to put the papers aside. She moved like she knew what she was doing, making Levi sigh loudly, catching her rhythm. So languidly sweet. She slowly slid forward and back, and Levi couldn’t stand it, grabbed her hair, setting his own pace. Mikasa easily complied, as if sensing his desire. Her tongue pleasantly traced his contours, stimulating the frenulum, and Levi thrust forward sharply, hitting her palate, making her swallow his seed.       He pulled out sharply, sprawling in the chair with his softening cock, and Mikasa remained kneeling, obediently waiting for further requests. She only wiped the trail of saliva from her lips with her fingers.       Levi ran his hand through his sweat-dampened hair, pushing it back, examining Mikasa before him. Just two gold. He’d found a real treasure.       “Go,” he ordered, and she stood up, looking around the room.       “Excuse me, sir. Where to?”       Levi sighed heavily, buttoning his pants. He really didn’t want to explain where his room was, to drill simple things into her, but he had to. Mikasa, having listened to the end, left.       He wasn’t afraid she’d run away. It was clear she’d been broken long before him. Like a dog chained to a kennel, Mikasa wouldn’t go far from her owner. She no longer understood there was no chain, no leash, that she could run for freedom. That was for the best. She was too good. He wanted to keep her close, and if he had to keep an eye on her, she’d become a real pain in the ass. Levi could, of course, actually put her on a chain, but unnecessary movements always inconvenienced him. And iron shackles often caused the skin underneath to rot.       A quiet evening descended on the office quite suddenly. Levi realised it was dark only when he could no longer make out the lines on the paper. Tiredly rubbing his strained eyes, he leaned back in the chair, realising he had no strength to light the kerosene lamp. The running around the city had drained him dry, and it seemed that foul aroma was permanently stuck in his nostrils. Only the thought of the slave in his room warmed his soul.       Stretching, Levi neatly stacked the documents on the table into a pile and went to the room.       Mikasa was sitting straight on the floor, legs tucked under her. Her hands were clenched into fists, resting calmly on her thighs, gaze on the floor. Interesting, had she been sitting like that the whole time?       Levi came closer, took her by the chin. In the last glimmers of evening light, he examined her face more closely—turned it left, right. At first glance, not a single flaw: beautiful, bright, full lips, lush eyelashes, pale, almost porcelain, smooth skin. He peered at her intently, pressing his fingers harder into her cheeks, trying to find any blemish. He abruptly released her, and Mikasa flinched, barely keeping her head up.       Levi rustled in the nightstand, fishing out scissors.       “Here,” he waved them in front of her face, and Mikasa obediently took them, pulling back the long strands. Hair fell down in an uneven cascade.       Levi pulled off his heavy boots, shrugged off his shirt, put on simple pants, getting ready for bed, and quiet evening was broken only by the rhythmic sound of closing metal blades.       “Give them here,” Levi said, getting up from the bed. She cut hair horribly. Everything in uneven clumps. Just ruined her whole look. He lit the kerosene lamp on the nightstand, took the scissors, and quickly evened out the messy short ends.       “Clean it up,” he ordered sharply, looking at the smooth locks spreading across the stone floor like big black spiders.       Mikasa, without a word, got up, gathering with her hands the hair that had belonged to her just moments ago. Levi pointed to the broom in the corner, and she just as silently cleaned up quickly.       Levi didn’t look at her. Even her very presence disturbed him and made his blood boil inside. Arousal washed over him despite the day’s difficulties and general fatigue.       Take her again or wait until the weekend when he could use her to his heart’s content? Levi stretched on the bed. What did he buy her for if not for this?       “Come here.”       Mikasa got up from the floor, climbing into bed with Levi. He immediately pressed her to himself, hands exploring this body new to him. Stroked her arms, thighs, slid up, getting under the shirt, closer to the delicate folds. Dry.       Levi pulled the shirt off her, peering at the soft features. They’d clearly fed her poorly. Sunken stomach, ribs stretched with skin, sharp collarbones protruding. Levi touched them with his lips, as if tasting. Squeezed her breast with his hand, rubbing the tender nipples, dragged wet kisses across the skin of her neck, and Mikasa responded, arched towards him, stroked him with her hands—timidly, as if trying to understand the boundaries of what was allowed. Her slender fingers lightly touched his back, making his skin break out in goosebumps, and Levi allowed her to touch him, to explore. Let her show what she was capable of.       He pulled away from her for a moment, examining the scarlet marks on her skin, peered into that same impassive porcelain face, took her by the chin, ran his thumb over her full soft lips, and touched them with his own. Mikasa returned the kiss, slightly opened her mouth, allowing Levi to invade with his tongue. Just as hot as during the day. So empty and lifeless on the outside and so excitingly soft inside.       Levi ran his hand over her lower region again. Nothing much had changed. Did she not want him at all?       Levi pulled off his pants, stroking his cock demanding release with his hand. Licked his fingers, penetrating inside. Mikasa flinched, either from surprise or from unpleasant sensations, and he suddenly felt a little sorry for her. A slave. What nonsense. Still, Levi moved his fingers inside, not rushing to enter.       Mikasa’s breathing became uneven, she reached for Levi with her hands, and he allowed her to embrace him, lowering himself over her. His fingers felt barely noticeable moisture, and Levi withdrew them, spreading the lubrication over himself, pressed against her, pushing inside. Mikasa arched forward, immediately beginning to move her hips to meet him.       Levi almost lost his head from the onslaught of sensations. Used, but so hot and tight it was mind-blowing.       Mikasa clung to him, but Levi didn’t allow her to take control, pressed her into the sheets with his body, thrusting faster, deeper, all the way. She quietly moaned, burying her face in his shoulder, and Levi thought she really might like it. His cock slid quickly and easily inside, arousal reaching its peak. Levi felt her loins gripping him, clenching in time with his thrusts, and couldn’t hold back, came right inside. A wave of pleasure washed over his body, baring his nerves, hitting him to the core, and Levi reluctantly pulled out of her.       An autumn chill drifted from the slightly open window. He had to quickly pull on his pants and shirt, get up, and slam the rattling shutters. The room was completely dark. Only the flickering light of the kerosene lamp illuminated a small corner, and Levi sank onto the bed again. Mikasa sat nearby, knees pulled to her chest.       Levi glanced at her briefly, shivering from the cool air, curled up, with flushed cheeks. Noticed a small wet spot on the sheet where his seed was leaking out of Mikasa, and cursed to himself. She better not be pregnant.       He nudged her with his hand to get off the bed. He didn’t have the strength to change the sheets. Mikasa slid down, pulling the shirt over herself. Levi reached for the nightstand, extinguishing the kerosene lamp. The room plunged into darkness. He turned to the wall, pulling the blanket higher.       Mikasa lay down next to him, on the stone floor, curling into a ball. Cold air seeped through the floor, but it was still more pleasant than the icy metal of the cage. Something large was thrown over her shoulders. Mikasa propped herself up on her elbows, staring wide-eyed at the dark fabric.       A cloak.       “Thank you, sir,” she whispered, surprised. She had already gotten used to the cold, slightly damp floor.       “Stupid,” Levi said, turning away again.       He didn’t even know why. It just came out. Levi had always considered girls who sold their bodies as stupid, dirty scums, incapable of honest work. Spread their legs for coins, found an easy way not to starve. How low and disgusting.       Mikasa unpleasantly stood out from that row. Didn’t fawn, hadn’t tried to please him once all day, get closer, ask for something. Didn’t argue, didn’t talk back. Annoying.       He wouldn’t want to waste his time on stupid requests, but Mikasa was silent as if there was absolutely nothing left inside her. She really was empty. She couldn’t have her own opinion, her own desires. Mikasa was just a beautiful wrapper, dead inside. Only knew how to follow commands, trained to agree, to say “yes, sir,” “as you wish, sir.”       She fell silent. Not a single sound was heard. Levi listened. It seemed she wasn’t even breathing.       “Captain,” the sound of his own voice tore the silence, and Levi heard Mikasa turn or wrap herself tighter in the cloak. No response followed.       “Call me captain,” he repeated, and the noise below repeated.       “As you command, Captain.”       A memorised, artificial phrase. Was there even a drop of consciousness in her brain, a bit of her own desires? Levi didn’t think about anything else anymore, closing his eyes.       To fall asleep, as usual, Levi never succeeded. He got up with the first rays of the sun, stretching his stiff body. Glanced at Mikasa sleeping by the bed. She lay curled up, seemed very small despite her tall stature. There was no need to wake her, and Levi, quickly gathering himself, left the room. There was an endless amount of work. Endless reports, descriptions of provisions, and a bunch of other boring, unnecessary documents. His stomach growled, and Levi glanced at the clock. Breakfast time was approaching.       Mikasa flinched upon seeing him in the doorway. Levi was beginning to be annoyed that she shied away from every sound, but he was tolerating it for now. She’d get used to it soon. Levi put a bowl of porridge on the nightstand and placed utensils and bread wrapped in a towel next to it.       “I hope you know how to use a spoon.”       “I do, Captain,” Mikasa replied, getting up from the floor.       He didn’t have to invite her, and Levi calmly left her with the food. He didn’t want to put her on display again. Too many would be tempted. And he wasn’t ready to share yet. A couple of guys had already had a chance to appraise her, and she wouldn’t resist if not ordered. Though she wouldn’t stand a chance against trained soldiers.

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      For several days he didn’t touch Mikasa. Either he had no strength, no time, or simply didn’t feel like it. Before an expedition, he didn’t want to feel anyone near him at all and sent her to sleep in the office. The night was quiet, bright, starry, and the moon in the high, clear sky, as if on purpose, reminded him of Mikasa’s light, roundish face.       That’s why he never bought girls. Knew they would distract him from reconnaissance, work. The last thing he needed was to face titans tired and worn out.       The blue autumn night had already settled over the barracks when the squad and Levi returned within the castle walls. Fatigue piled up in a huge lump of problems. Anger, confusion, despondency—all intertwined into a single feeling of disgust for the damned service squeezing him dry.       Without undressing, he pulled Mikasa to himself, sinking into her soft lips, stroking her body, which was acquiring normal curves. Fed her properly.       Mikasa pressed against him, giving him the feeling that it all wasn’t in vain, that there was at least one person who wholly and completely depended on him, whose life was in his hands, and he could dispose of it as he wished. Love or tear her to pieces in a fit of anger, feed her to the local dogs and never remember Mikasa’s existence.       He turned her around, made her brace her hands against the wall, lifted her shirt, thrust in sharply. Mikasa hissed, and he grabbed her by the short hair, pulling her head back, forcing her to turn, respond to a demanding, scorching kiss. Levi roughly caressed her, crushing her breasts, speeding up the pace, listening to the rattle of his ODM gear straps, the wet slapping sounds echoing through the room. Levi pulled out just as sharply, helping himself finish with his hand, and collapsed on the bed fully clothed, unable to even take off his boots.       Through sleep, he felt someone removing his straps.

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      Every day grew colder. In the mornings, a bluish frost glistened on the grass, and the fog didn’t disperse until the sun hung high. He had to shell out for clothes for Mikasa. Not long ago she’d caught a cold, and touching her was disgusting. Levi didn’t want to see her snot again, and now her corner was warmer. He’d procured an old blanket for Mikasa.       All this time, she hadn’t uttered a single extra word. Spoke only when asked, more often just nodded in agreement or thanked him in her colourless manner.       Snow fell outside the window unexpectedly. Levi looked up—everything around had turned into a solid white sheet. Large, fluffy flakes slowly settled on the ground in the light of dull sun rays. Frost patterns glittered on the windowpanes.       Undressing in the office was impossible. The cold was unbearable, and only in the rooms was it slightly warmer.       Mikasa had noticeably blossomed. Her cheeks gained a gentle blush, her body became softer, smoother, more attractive. Bones didn’t stick out, didn’t dig into her skin. Touching her was much more pleasant, and Levi often used her before bed. Sex warmed them, and going to a cold bed wasn’t so hard.       A languid evening slowly settled over the Survey Corps when Levi, for the first time in a long while, finished with paperwork early, already anticipating returning to his Mikasa.       She stood by the window, peering into the distance. Levi had already allowed her to walk around the room, go out for a short stroll in the corridors, but nothing more. Levi was beginning to trust her. Felt he shouldn’t, that a mongrel should always be kept on a leash, should stay by its owner’s side, but he couldn’t even call Mikasa a mongrel in his thoughts. Having blossomed, rounded out, she seemed even more beautiful than on the day he bought her.       Levi greedily examined the soft, pleasant curves, approaching almost silently from behind, wanting to touch her as soon as possible. His hands wrapped around the warm, pliant, unresisting body. Without a word, he turned her towards himself, stroking her rosy cheeks, pressed closer, covering the thin skin of her neck with kisses, his palms cupping her tender breasts.       Mikasa yielded to his caresses, clung to him. People said you couldn’t buy love. Nonsense. What was this if not love? Mikasa was entirely his, belonged to him. Was perfect in her submission and meekness.       Together with her, he sank onto the bed, pulling off her clothes, greedily covering her body with kisses. She smelled of him. Was a part of him. Mikasa stroked his cheeks, looked into his eyes, kissed and quietly moaned when he touched her breasts, thighs, stomach. Levi liked her quiet, pleasant voice.       He quickly undressed, despite the cold, wanting to feel her with every part of himself. Mikasa was skilful. As soon as Levi let her understand she could do whatever she liked, she showed her full range. Pleasured him in different ways, finding the most interesting ones, resorting to them more often. Levi drowned in her, in her hot hands and kisses.       He stroked her down there, making himself melt with longing, caressed her, arousing her. Mikasa had quickly gotten used to him, and it wasn’t hard for Levi to warm her up properly. He turned Mikasa over, made her lie on her stomach, lifted her hips, stroking, kissing her buttocks. Ran his hand over her moist loins, coating his fingers, sliding higher, penetrated between her thighs, stretching.       Mikasa arched more, and Levi turned his hand, his thumb sliding over the swollen folds, inserting and withdrawing, enjoying the sight, how she yielded back, impaling herself more on his fingers. He couldn’t endure any longer. Levi positioned himself behind her and entered immediately. Her muscles tightly closed around him, and Levi hissed, unable to suppress a sigh. It was always too good inside her.       He pressed Mikasa into the pillow, keeping a hand on her neck, and greedily thrust forward, feeling shivers of pleasure ripple through his body. Couldn’t stand it, pulled out, turned Mikasa towards himself, pressing against her with his whole body, burying his face in her neck, thrust forward again, and she quietly moaned, arching to meet him.       A couple of thrusts were enough for Levi to come. He held her close, not wanting to let go. Waited for his breathing to even out, until he felt her skin cool, the draft from the window chilling his back.       Levi reluctantly pulled away, rolling onto his back. His body unpleasantly stuck with sweat, but he was getting cold, and he pulled up the blanket, relaxing under the quickly warming fabric. Mikasa was already sitting up, about to get up, and for the first time ever, Levi didn’t want her to leave. It was too cold to sleep alone, and a warm female body was nicer than the rough fabric of shirts and pants.       Levi sat up, pulling Mikasa to himself, pressed her close, covering both of them with the blanket. Under his palm, her chest rose and fell with her breathing, so quiet and calm. Levi glanced at the clock. There was still plenty of time before lights out. He didn’t feel like sleeping at all.       He turned Mikasa over, peering into her face. She still reminded him of a beautiful doll. The kind you’d see in the windows of expensive shops. He, like court children, played with her, could do anything. She never refused. Will-less, lifeless. Empty eyes, empty soul. What was she like inside? He suddenly wanted to dig out her true self, tear out what she hid behind the mask, find out who she was, what she did before she came to him. The interest arose unexpectedly, suddenly.       “Tell me about yourself,” his own low voice sounded detached. It was strange to question a slave. Unlikely she could tell anything worthwhile, but he probably wouldn’t fall asleep. Lying with her in an embrace just like that for an hour would be worse.       “What do you want to know, Captain?”       “I don’t know. About childhood.”       Mikasa raised her eyes to him, and such immense melancholy was reflected in her grey, dull irises that Levi already regretted asking. They all had the same tear-jerking story. Nothing worth listening to, but Mikasa had already opened her mouth.       “I don’t remember it well. Lived somewhere in the mountains with my mother and father until they were killed, and slavers took me. Sold me quickly to one man.”       Her voice was gentle and quiet, as if what she was telling didn’t affect her, and Levi listened with pleasure to the warm notes in her words.       “Who was he?”       “I don’t know, I never heard his name.”       “Tell me about him.”       Mikasa sighed. A barely noticeable display of emotion. Levi felt he was touching something in her and listened more attentively.       “He was an adult man. Probably like you. He had a handsome face, kind.”       Levi tensed. A strange feeling arose in his chest. What was he feeling? It was unpleasant to hear her speak about her previous owner. Levi convinced himself that Mikasa was wholly and completely his, that she hadn’t been as attached to any man as she was to him, hadn’t depended on anyone as she did on him.       “Did you like being with him?”       She shrank. Another jab at her very core. What did he need to ask before he saw her tears for the first time?       “I was about nine,” she whispered, as if that said a lot, and fell silent. Levi leaned over her, looked into her eyes. He saw she wanted to turn away but didn’t dare.       “Keep going.” Levi sank back onto the pillows, pressing closer to her again. The vibrations from her voice through her body were pleasant. He wanted to listen and listen to her whisper.       “I have nothing to tell. He did many things to me. Then sold me to another. From him, I came to you.”

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      Mikasa tensed up more. How many times had she been asked such questions? Men who thought her feelings could be tugged at endlessly, turned inside out until her pulse was lost, that they could rummage through her entire being and drag out the most terrible things, as if she could no longer see, hear, feel.       Just don’t ask anything more, just don’t ask—she prayed to herself, otherwise she’d be lost.       Her previous master loved to hear how a little girl’s body was tormented, again and again, revelling in the vilest details, asking for more, more. Her body no longer felt the abuse, no longer ached, no longer responded, only maintained an unnecessary, unbearable life within her. But her stupid consciousness remembered everything, down to the smallest details. Threw up images of how she was abused, how terrifying it was to understand that the worst wasn’t so bad, that there could be worse. That no one cared about her tears, no one was frightened by the sight of her blood, no one wanted to think that she was human, that she felt things. Mikasa no longer tried to run away, no longer tried to end her life. All attempts were suppressed, and afterward, only new scars appeared.       She had to resign herself.       Her body no longer belonged to her, and never would again. All that remained inside—a trampled heart. No one thought of Mikasa as a living woman anymore. She was no one’s daughter, sister, wife. Was not and never would be loved. Would never know what it was like to raise her own child. She had already stopped even dreaming about it, though she had tried long ago. Until even those dreams were crushed by rough hands endlessly pawing at her body.       Mikasa got used to it slowly, but as soon as she ended up with the military, she understood—there was no way out. Here, everyone watched her. She had not a single chance to escape. Knew that as soon as this captain grew tired of her, he’d hand her over to be torn apart by the soldiers. Heard those terrible stories and prayed at night not to end up in the place of those girls whom men took tirelessly, torturing to death.       Mikasa was obedient, submissive, only to hold on longer, hang by a thread. She wanted to believe the captain would be kind to her. Still believed in fairy tales, in a bright future, that someone would truly love her, take her away, pull her out of this shit she had to wade through again and again, but quickly understood—no such person existed. Not in this world. Or maybe nowhere at all. The captain was interested in her body, and nothing more.       He was no different from the others. It felt like her soul was being cut into pieces every time he touched her. She didn’t want to, but obeyed. Pretended she liked it, that she was devoted and submissive—all so it would end in bed, so no one would touch her for a few days.

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      “I see,” Levi drawled. Glanced at the clock. Could close his eyes now. Wouldn’t fall asleep anyway.       Mikasa fell silent in his arms, and he stroked her barely grown-out hair. Soft, silky, strong. A crazy thought slipped through his mind that she could bear him a couple of beautiful, healthy children when all this titan mess finally ended.       A spark of pity barely flickered in his chest. She must have had a hard life. But all these slaves and brothel whores had some sort of sob story. Soft-hearted clients might take pity and pay more. Believing them was a mistake. They’d invent anything to lure a client or secure a warmer spot for themselves.       He wanted to believe her.       Levi buried his fingers in her hair. Closed his eyes. The room sank into silence.