The Art of Love & War

Familiarity

"Squad Leader Tatum is from the Underground?!"

"Shush!" Farlan exclaimed in a hushed tone, slapping a hand over Isabel's mouth. "Someone might hear you!"

"Whoops," she chirped, realizing her mistake. "Squad Leader Tatum is from the Underground?" she repeated in a more hushed manner.

The sun had already set and curfew would commence in merely a few minutes. Isabel would have to return to the separate barracks for the female cadets no matter how much she pleaded to stay.

"At least, from what I heard," Levi replied, shrugging, laying down on his back on the bottom bunk. "Flagon said something about rumors," he said as he tried to recall the conversation that had taken place that afternoon to the best of his ability.

"Slummers are people who have endured things worse than Titans, I'll let you know," she scoffed. "It's one thing to be killed by another species. But it's another fucking thing to be killed by your own fucking kind."

"How would you know then, Tatum?" asked Flagon. "You never addressed to the rumors."

"Then should we go digging?" asked Isabel, excitement in her voice. "I want to hear what all those rumors are!"

"Tch," he scoffed. "That's not what we're here for dummy," he said, making Isabel frown. "We're here for that dumbass with the eyebrows."

But he reached up to affectionately ruffle at her red hair, not once letting his serious facade falter. But Isabel knew when Levi was being affectionate despite his resting bitch face.

"I couldn't find the documents anywhere in his office," Farlan said on a more serious note. "Searched everywhere. But they were nowhere to be found."

"Then I guess that'll have to wait then!" Isabel cheered, earning herself a smack on the back of her head from Farlan. "Ow! That hurt!"

"We're going on an expedition soon! The sooner we find them the sooner we can get out of here!" exclaimed Farlan.

Levi only shook his head at the antics of his friends.

"Then why not count this as a side mission to keep us entertained until we do find them?" asked Isabel, glancing hopefully at Levi, bringing out the big guns and using her puppy eyes.

"Why are you so interested in this?" asked Levi, groaning slightly. "It has no point in it whatsoever and troublesome."

His words managed to shut Isabel up but not for long.

When she finally found the answer she was looking for, she replied with a small, wry smile.

"I don't know," she admitted, sighing. "But I can't help but feel like I know her or something. Something about her feels familiar. Or is it just me again?"

"Now that you mentioned it, yeah. Something does seem familiar about her," Farlan said, widening his eyes, which made Isabel grin. Until he laughed it off, snickering. "Or not. Maybe you're finally losing it."

"Big brother! You agree with me don't you? Does she seem familiar to you?"

Yes. Yes she did, he thought.

Even he had to admit that Isabel was actually right for once. The documents were nowhere to be found. And they couldn't kill Erwin before finding those documents.

Letting his eyes travel to the metal studs in Isabel's ears, he recalled the two empty spots in her ears that he didn't know Isabel had realized as well. The damn female soldier puzzled him, and he couldn't control how much he'd paid attention to her during the rare times when he'd actually see her.

For now, he thought, he'll just have to dig up those rumors to keep him entertained in this shithole.

. . .

"What do you mean, rumors?" asked Flagon as the three indulged in more 3DMG practice the next afternoon. Levi had stayed back with the man while his two companions zoomed ahead.

"You know what I mean. Yesterday's conversation you had with this shrimp named Tatum," he scoffed.

Widening his eyes, Flagon bared his teeth slightly, annoyed by the raven head's shitty attitude.

"One, you don't exactly excel in the height department either, buddy. And two, she's your superior so treat her with respect," he growled.

"She's Squad Leader, right?" he asked, making him cock an eyebrow at his sudden chattiness.

"Yes," he replied, trying his best to be patient.

"Then where is her squad?"

Stiffening, he clenched his teeth at the mention of the dead squad.

"Enough," he growled. "Focus on your training and try to conserve your gas. Everything else is none of your business."

Frowning, Levi watched as his Squad Leader zoom off into the distance, leaving the question hanging in the air, unanswered. Flagon's behaviour only served to heighten the man's interest. Which was odd, since the man rarely made time for anything else once he has a certain goal in mind.

"Tch," he mumbled. "What the fucking hell is up with that woman," he murmured, his thoughts wondering off to the previous afternoon.

He'd be lying if he said he wasn't observing her. Or that he hadn't been, either. The entire assessment, he was switching between killing makeshift Titans and watching how she killed makeshift Titans.

He'd watched her glide in the air, building up her own momentum with nothing but her hooks, using as little gas as she could. He remembered scoffing. If the 3DMG came with gas to help in propelling, why not use it? But of course, he'd never been on a battlefield before. So he didn't know what it was like to face a Titan firsthand.

But his mind kept rewinding back to the way she moved in the air. Take away the Maneuver Gear and put her on the ground, and you have a woman who was fighting for her life. He'd observed her little swings and kicks to help her get better leverage and angles, and he couldn't help but wonder why the hell it all seemed so familiar to him.

Shaking his head, he refocused on the practice at hand. She wasn't with them that day. And in all honesty, it disappointed him. And annoyed him.

He'd barely even spoken a word to the damn woman and yet, she'd been occupying a large majority of his thoughts that was a runner up to his thoughts on Erwin.

. . .

Tatum shuffled around in her room, finishing up side paperwork while she waited for the dead of the night to arrive.

No cadet would ever be caught dead wondering the hallways at this time of night.

Superiors would either be busy with their own share of paperwork, or conked our on their desks or beds from exhaustion and fatigue. The Commander included.

She'd thanked the heavens one more time to have her room further away from Erwin's. She swore that man sometimes sleeps with one eye open.

Grabbing her cloak, she slid her door open just a crack to check the hallways.

Making sure it was clear, she slinked out of her office, soundlessly closing her door and making her way downstairs.

She knew that her routine was dangerous. If found out, she could be arrested, or worse. Getting kicked out of the military or executed. But she couldn't bear to just stand idly by while she knew the horrors and suffering the Underground went through. She would never forgive herself. She would never be able to die in peace.

She unconsciously touched the back of her head to feel that once familiar braid she always did for her fights to keep her hair out of her face as she disliked the feeling of sweaty hair on her skin. But she remembered that she's chopped it short right after the loss of her very first squad, and remembered telling herself that there was no vanity in the military.

Years and years of sneaking out and she'd never been caught, she thought. She was rather proud of herself.

Only to have her winning streak cut short by a certain redhead who had woken up to quench a thirst in her throat, who'd watched her slip out the doors from headquarters.