Something worth fighting for

1

The wood creaks beneath his limping steps.
Every morning, the same routine: wake up at dawn, clean the small house on the hill, light the fire for the two children still asleep upstairs.
They had tried living in the city for a while, but he couldn't handle it. His mind, forever on high alert, gave him no rest; simple footsteps on the street were mistaken for enemies, drunken men yelling and laughing at night reminded him of the Titans' screams.
But it was the people's stares that finally broke him: silent yet unwavering, following his every move like a constant reminder of his past.
He began going out less and less, refusing every invitation, seeking refuge in that small dark room. He was ready to live out his days like that.
But his comrades - despite all his attempts to push them away - didn't give up, always searching for a solution.
And there it was, at last: his little house in the countryside, so perfect and peaceful it looked like it had stepped out of a painting.
Here, the days are quieter, slower. A relief for his exhausted mind.

His right hand trembles slightly, and his left - the stronger one now - struggles to keep the pot steady. Outside, the sun begins to filter through the mountains.
The war ended three years ago. The Titans are a distant memory.
And yet, Levi Ackerman is still at war - every single night.

Sometimes he wakes up gasping, drenched in sweat. The pain in his leg - broken, rebuilt, never healed - reminds him every day that he survived, though he still doesn't know why.
Other times, it's the silence that kills him - the silence left by those who are gone.
Erwin. His voice has vanished, yet Levi still thinks he hears it sometimes. In the wind, among the rustling leaves.
Or when he watches Gabi and Falco playing in the field at the bottom of the hill.
They don't play like normal children. Not quite.
There's a stiffness in their movements, a conditioned reflex in their eyes whenever they hear a sudden noise.

They were soldiers. Child - soldiers, trained from birth to fight a war that was never theirs.
They'd been promised everything: respect, glory, freedom - so long as they became weapons.
They learned to hate before they even learned to understand.
Someone had told them how to move, who to serve, what to fear.
They walked the tightrope of Titan power, fooled into thinking that sacrificing their humanity was the price of a dignified life.
And all for a war between adults. A war that, in the end, had no true winners.

Levi watches them and wonders every day if there's something – anything - he can do to give back a piece of the childhood that was stolen from them.

One evening, Falco sits beside him.
"Does it still hurts?" he asks, pointing at the leg.
Levi doesn't lie. "Always."
The pain never truly leaves him - it just lurks, waiting to strike at the most inconvenient moments.

He couldn't accept it at first.
He, the captain of the Survey Corps. The strongest of all. With a record number of kills. Reduced to asking for help just to make it to the bathroom.
He, who had fought Titans, taken down hundreds of monsters in battle - now left to wrestle with a body that betrayed him daily.
His body, now scarred. His heart, now worn out. His strength, once his pride, now a fading memory. His hands, once always ready to draw a blade, now trembled trying to hold a cup of warm tea.
At first, he didn't even understand why he had survived. What was left for him now?
A life without battles, without purpose. A captain without an army. A soldier without a war.
A dulled blade with no master.

He had never felt so lost, so powerless.
He no longer had wings - and without them, he didn't know how to fly, how to go on.
He couldn't go back. He couldn't change the past.
But maybe - just maybe - he could change the future.

The pain in his leg was never strong enough to erase the heavier burden he carried inside.
But the image of those kids reminded him with every step that there had to be something left worth saving.
He didn't know what it was - but for the first time in years, he felt like he was getting closer to an answer.
No longer the fight - but protection.
No longer hate - but care.

"Then why do you smile sometimes?"
He thinks. He really thinks.
Then he looks at Gabi, clumsily watering the plants with a bucket too big for her.
"Because there's still something worth protecting."
The boy doesn't reply, but moves closer to him. He hugs him gently, as if afraid to hurt that fragile, stiff body.
Levi doesn't say anything, but he feels a tear sting the corner of his left eye - the one that can still see.

At night, he sits outside, in front of the house. The sky is filled with stars. So many. So silent.
Erwin, do you think we did the right thing?
We gave our lives for a better world. But I... I remained. And I don't know if I deserve this future.
A voice in his mind - maybe his, maybe not - whispers:
"You survived because someone had to remember. Someone had to teach others how to live."
Levi breathes in slowly.
For a moment, he feels no pain.
For a moment, the weight of the world lifts from his shoulders.
For a moment, he is at peace.
And that - for him - is enough.