The evening comes and goes uneventfully. Soldiers station themselves on the rooftops of the buildings, keeping watch over the regiment as nightfall approaches. You take field rations up to the second story, where Thea, Ruth, and Oscar are busy talking with each other.
"Hey, guys," you greet as you pass out packaged biscuits. "Where's Robin?"
"I saw him talking with Hange," Thea answers as she points outside the window. "I don't know what about, though."
"Hm." You situate yourself against the wall, unwrapping your own food. "He was asking me about Titans earlier. I think he's interested in learning about them."
"Hange would be a good person to ask, for sure," Thea notes.
"Titans?" Oscar's already chewing as he talks. "Robin's into Titans?"
"I don't think into is the right word," Ruth remarks. "But, indeed, I didn't know he was curious about them."
"Me neither," you say. "He told me it's in his heritage. Have...have any of you guys heard of Kuklo?"
"Kuklo?" Ruth quirks an eyebrow.
"Yeah. Robin mentioned him."
"Kuklo? Absolutely!" Thea seems to be quite the expert on this rumored individual. "He was a bit of an urban legend in Shiganshina when I was growing up. I don't know what's true and what isn't, but apparently he was the son of a Titan."
"That's impossible," Ruth remarks. "Titans don't reproduce. They don't have reproductive organs."
Thea shrugs. "It happened years ago, so I don't think they knew any better back then. He was just a regular kid that was mistaken for Titan offspring after being found in a Titan's stomach. He escaped capture, became a Scout, fell in love—that part is pretty cute, honestly."
"Why'd Robin mention him?" Oscar asks, less interested in this man's backstory.
"I don't know." You silently wish, again, that Levi had waited just a bit longer to summon you back then. "Robin talked about heritage...you think he's related to Kuklo?"
"Did Kuklo have children?" Ruth asks to Thea.
"Some stories say he did," Thea admits. "Some don't. It's a different tale depending on who you ask." She sighs, picking at her bread. "It's not impossible, though. Robin could be a descendant of Kuklo, if Kuklo did actually exist."
"So...is Robin part-Titan?" Oscar asks.
"No," Ruth states. "Because Kuklo wasn't a Titan at all. Weren't you listening?"
"Then why is he interested in them?" Oscar scratches his head, utterly confused.
"We don't know." Ruth nibbles on her biscuit.
Thea perks up, remembering something. "At camp, he told me he was disappointed when he learned we were leaving from Shiganshina for the 24th Expedition. He wanted to leave from the north side of the Walls, not the south side."
"What's north of us? Besides mountains," Oscar says.
"Dunno," Thea answers. "He's so mysterious. It's impossible to get anything out of him."
"I'd say we should ask him sometime," you posit. "But he won't tell us anything."
"All we know is he could be a descendant of Kuklo, and that motivated him to go outside the Walls," Ruth summarizes. "Maybe Section Commander Erwin or Hange knows more."
"Maybe."
A hiss of wires precedes Levi's arrival in the windowsill, the soldier coming to a halt and perching himself on the stone frame. "You guys talk about the most pointless shit," he chides as he sits on the stonework.
"Rude, Levi," you say unabashedly. "We're interested in our friend, is that so bad?"
"Do you know anything about him?" Ruth asks, confronting the man that's just as secretive as Robin.
"Hell no." Levi holsters his grips. "I have better things to do than frolic with the nurses."
"Liar," Thea accuses teasingly. "How much do you know about our supervisor, hm?"
Levi scoffs, glaring at your friend. "What're you getting at?"
"Come on, Levi." Thea lets a proud smile play across her lips. "You chase after her as much as she chases after you—"
"Thea," you interrupt swiftly, to which she shrugs jokingly.
"I do no such thing," Levi gnarls, shifting back against the window frame.
"There's no shame in it, if she helps you!" Oscar speaks earnestly, perhaps from experience. "She makes a good teddy bear, doesn't she?"
"Oscar!" you exclaim.
"The hell?" Levi twitches, almost stunned by his remark. "What does that mean?"
"You know." Oscar makes cool eye contact with the soldier. "Like when you were a kid, you had a teddy bear. It couldn't physically do anything, but it provided comfort." He adjusts his position, moving closer to Ruth. "Though I dunno if you had something like that. Did you?"
"She's a human being," Levi reminds, ignoring the question. "Not a damn stuffed animal. Watch your mouth, Oscar."
"He means it kindly," Ruth counters. "Are you honestly going to tell us our supervisor doesn't provide you comfort?"
Levi pauses, staring down the couple interrogating him. He slouches forward and plants his hands on the stone on either side of his thighs, gripping it to quell his tension. "We're not little kids. Don't ask dumb questions like that."
"Avoiding the question?" Thea asks daringly.
"I'm not going to fall for your taunts," Levi bites back. "You all can mind your own damn business without poking into mine."
"Levi." The staircase creaks as a new guest enters the room, uttering the soldier's name. It's Robin. He moves as quietly as the old floor allows and takes a seat on the floor beside Thea. "You're blunt."
"What?" Levi eyes the newcomer, befuddled by the variety of interrogation techniques being fired at him.
"Be blunt like you always are," Robin orders. "It's easier that way."
Levi's eyes narrow, picking apart his new opponent. "Aren't you the quietest of the nurses? It's hard to take advice about being blunt from you."
"There," Robin congratulates lowly. "You were blunt about me. Do it again, with her."
"Don't tell me what to do," Levi grumbles. "I didn't come here to be mocked. I was just checking on—on you guys. I'll be leaving now."
"So soon?" Thea remarks.
"Be quiet and eat." Levi tosses himself off the windowsill and plummets to the ground, disappearing from view.
"He's impossible," Ruth sighs. "I commend your ability to make him so vulnerable," she says to you.
"Um, thanks." You speak up again, having been mostly quiet throughout the whole argument. "He's kind, really. Just reserved."
"That's a polite way to describe him." Ruth mindlessly counts the planks making up the floor. "If you like him, then I suppose that reserved front doesn't matter to you."
"Like him," you repeat contemplatively. "I appreciate him, yeah." The biscuit in your hands remains uneaten, its consumer too lost in thought. "But he's reluctant about being vulnerable."
"He is," Robin hums. "Some people are."
"Like you," Thea slips in, risking prodding at the quiet nurse.
"I am," Robin wholly admits, his head hanging low. "It doesn't come naturally."
Silence hangs in the air for several moments, nobody sure of how to respond.
Ruth finally takes charge. "So be it," she declares softly.
"So be it," Robin echoes.
Not much conversation is made as the nurses keep eating, nor as they prepare for bed as much as they can. The best cleanliness you can manage is washing your face with a minimal amount of fresh water, but unfortunately you're required to stay in uniform to sleep. It's not pleasant, but the entire regiment is undergoing this struggle together. Cons of being a soldier, you admit.
Stars dominate the clear night sky, twinkling daintily against the moonless night. A lone lamp illuminates the windmill, casting warm light on the resting nurses. Nobody's asleep—nobody can fall asleep at all. It's too tense.
You've put your mat beside the window, partly for Levi's sake. He seems to prefer entering through unconventional methods, anyways. You pull Levi's cloak over your torso and sink your head into a stuffed saddlebag that's serving as a pillow, trying to get comfortable in this meager bed.
"You need to sleep, Oscar," Ruth whispers from across the room.
"I'm not sleeping until you do, Ruth," her partner whispers back.
"Lovebirds," Thea chuckles.
You sigh, staring at a blinking star outside. "I don't think any of us are getting sleep tonight. It's terrifying knowing those creatures could be anywhere outside."
"The Titans don't move at night," Robin says. "Section Commander Hange said so."
"Oh, really?" Thea rolls onto her side to face Robin.
"It's just a theory," Robin warns. "We're not too certain yet, but it looks that way."
"That's reassuring," Thea says. "Did they tell you anything else about Titans?"
"Nothing I didn't already know," Robin murmurs. "We don't know much about them at all. It's troubling."
"They're not your relatives, Robin," Ruth states straightforwardly. "Even if Kuklo is."
Robin doesn't react to this news, laying stilly on his mat. "I know that. I suppose his curiosity passed on to me."
"So you are his descendant!" Thea exclaims, sitting up excitedly.
Robin stares at the ceiling and nods once. "I think so. My mother was an Inoncencio, and her grandmother was Sharle."
"Sharle?" Oscar asks.
"Kuklo's rumored lover," Thea answers.
"Oh."
"I know I'm not a Titan, Ruth." Robin's tone remains low and soft. "But I still want to learn about them. Many people do."
"Of course," Ruth replies, accepting Robin's desires.
"Why do you want to go north, then?" Oscar asks. "What does that have to do with Titans?"
"Nothing." Robin rolls onto his side. "I just want to see if Naraka is real."
"A settlement outside the Walls," Thea recalls. "Where those sent to death by Titans came together and protected themselves. You really are like your great-grandfather, Robin."
"Maybe," Robin whispers. "I'm just interested."
You curl in on your mat, peeking at the nurse in the darkness. "Thanks for telling us, Robin. It means a lot to me, at least."
"Sure." Robin tucks his head down. "You all have been kind to me. I appreciate you."
"Goofball," Thea chuckles. "Of course we're kind, dummy. You're our friend."
"Mm," is Robin's response.
Ruth expels a slow exhale. "I know it's dangerous, but I'm glad you all came with. Even this little group is wonderful to be around."
"Yeah," you agree.
"Oscar would probably say the same thing, but he's already asleep." Ruth pats her partner, who has dropped into slumber several moments ago.
"I envy him." Thea pulls her own cloak up to her chin. "I'm still too scared to relax."
As if on cue, Levi's silhouette fills the window, casting a dark shadow on you. "Try," he commands of Thea. "I don't want soldiers getting stitched up by sleep-deprived nurses. Get to sleep, all of you."
"Gosh, I thought I left my mom in Shiganshina," Thea sighs as she depresses her cheek into her saddlebag. "I guess she disguised herself as Levi and came along."
"Knock it off, Thea." Levi flicks a pebble off the windowsill as he leans against the bricks. "You can't look after this regiment if you don't look after yourself first. Of everyone here, you guys need to be in top condition."
"You do, too, Levi." You look up at the soldier casting his shadow on you. "You're gonna protect the subsidiary army tomorrow."
"I'm going to try," he sighs.
"Levi!" Erwin's distant voice calls. "You're on night watch. Do the nurses a favor by letting them sleep and being on the lookout for Titans."
"Fucking..." Levi rolls his eyes, glaring at the section commander you can't see. "Fine. Go to sleep, idiots. I'll see you in the morning."
"Mmhmm. Night, Levi," you say.
"G'night, Levi!" Thea whispers loudly.
Levi drops from the windowsill, resuming his night watch duties.
His quick visit is enough to halt the nurse's conversation, and the room falls quiet as everyone attempts to sleep. Ruth whispers something soothing to her sleeping partner before deftly shuffling closer to him, indulging herself in the comfort Oscar could provide. Envious, you sigh as you roll to one side and force yourself to fall asleep alone.
Ivory fingers feathering your hand draw you out of slumber, followed by the dim morning light sneaking into the windmill. You're barely conscious, each sense in your body awaking one at a time.
"I'm leaving," Levi's whispering voice declares softly. His cold hand brushes the flat of yours, connecting with you for a few moments before he has to go.
"Levi," you whisper back, cracking your eyelids open. "...No."
"I have to." He's crouching beside you, coasting his hand over the fabric of your shirt sleeve.
"Let me come with." You lift your hand to hold his arm, tethering him to you.
"Don't be stupid." He takes your wrist and presses it to your chest, coaxing you to remain isolated. He smooths his cloak over your torso, tucking your arm underneath it.
"Levi," you repeat, a hurricane of desperate thoughts bottlenecked into nothing but an utterance of his name.
"Don't forget what I told you." Levi reaches into the folds of his coat and withdraws a flare gun, alreay loaded with a purple cartridge. "This is solely for you," he explains. "Don't let anyone take it away. Fire it as soon as you're in trouble and stay safe until I can return to you."
You watch him set it beside your body, and you hate this necessary ritual that's happening before the soldier separates from you. "Please," you beg breathily. "Don't leave."
"I'm sorry." He cups your cheek gently, his thumb drawing slow circles on your skin. "Just wait for me."
"Come back," you request.
"I will," he promises, his voice raising a decibel. "You don't need to worry about me. Just keep yourself alive."
"I will," you echo, locking yourself in a binding contract with the soldier.
He exhales deeply, unable to express any of the feelings plaguing his heart. Giving up on trying, he detaches from you and rises to his feet. "I'll come back," he declares before stealing the steps to the window and leaping outside.
The windmill is still and quiet, none of the other nurses awake yet. You lay among them, staring at the rickety beams above you as unwanted isolation consumes you. It eats at your soul, your intrusive thoughts reminding you over and over how alone you are. Levi's gone now, off to contribute to humanity while you wait desperately for his return.
Either a few minutes or an hour passes; you're not sure. It feels like an eternity regardless. Ruth is the next to stir, her lean frame sitting up while she keeps a hand on Oscar. You hoist yourself up on your elbows, eyeing her from across the room.
"Where's Levi?" she asks softly.
You're stunned. That's not the question you expected from her at all, especially first thing upon waking. Confusion paints your face, followed by bitter gloom as you think of the answer.
"He left," you reply, and that's it.
Ruth discerns enough. She smooths Oscar's cloak over his body before leaving his side and creeping to you.
She checks outside the window first, beyond which subdued footsteps and conversations indicate the activity of the early rising regiment. Sighing, she takes a seat beside you.
"So early," she muses.
No responses are coming to mind. You sit up, alone yet together in this isolation. Ruth glances at her partner, still safe and with her, before looking back at you.
"I'm sorry."
Her consolation is quiet, but beautiful. You swallow down the lump in your throat and barely nod once. "Thank you." You look at the orange morning sky outside, imagining whatever could be going on out there. "He'll be fine, really. It's...just going to be a long day."
"I'll be here if you need anything." Ruth puts a hand on your shoulder. "We all will be."
Your frame deflates, and that spurs her to pull you into an embrace. "Thank you, Ruth," you mumble into her shoulder. This nurse has understood you from the start, and even now she sympathizes with your connection to another. Her other half is safe and protected, but yours is thrown onto the front line mercilessly with only his own strength as protection. It's nearly unstoppable strength, but he's not invincible. You wish he was.
"Nurses!" The fierce pounding of Hange's footsteps ascending the stairs tears you and Ruth away from each other.
"Careful, Section Commander!" Ruth warns. "The wood is weak."
"Good morning!" Hange exclaims. "Up, up, nurses! We've got work to do!"
"Hange," Thea mumbles as she blinks awake, trying to process the newcomer. "Section Commander," she corrects.
"You sleepyheads are the last to wake up!" Hange chastises playfully. "This isn't training camp anymore!"
"Sorry, Section Commander." You get to your feet, taking Levi's cloak with you and securing it around your shoulders before slipping the signal flare into your jacket. "I'm up. I'll get the others up, too."
"Nah, come with me!" Hange takes your wrist and starts tugging you to the staircase. "Ruth! Get the others up. I'll be taking your supervisor for a bit!"
You almost fall down the stairs with how quickly Hange pulls you along, and you're shakily asking the section commander to loosen up on their hold. They release you at the base of the stairs and hurry outside the mill without waiting, forcing you to catch up.
The morning light blankets the farmland in a dim wash of light, ghosting across the roofs and bricks of the buildings. Soldiers rove the landscape, occupied in whatever regimental duties they're assigned. It's cold, though that chill doesn't penetrate your green cloak.
"Erwin!" Hange shouts, but Moblit comes to their side anxiously.
"Section Commander, please don't shout," he warns. "We don't know how sensitive the Titans' hearing is."
"I never thought about that!" Hange lights up with a new surge of energy at the idea. "We oughta look into that sometime. Erwin! Can we—"
"No," the blond section commander interrupts as he approaches the trio. "This isn't the time for experiments. We're low on personnel now."
"So we are," Hange hums as they look to the horizon. Past the manor, several kilometers away, a lone green plume pierces the sky. It must be from the subsidiary army, relaying some message between themselves or to the regiment at base. Levi's somewhere underneath that pillar, exploring land with several other soldiers.
"So please keep compulsive ideas to a minimum," Erwin requests. "And come with me, all of you. There's something rather interesting I want your opinion on."
You follow the section commander towards the manor, watching busy soldiers pass around you. It's oddly calm despite sitting right in the epicenter of enemy territory, but the regiment operates with hardened courage, reinforced by protocols and guards, that keep them from panicking over the notion like you are.
You're led to the side of the manor, the side facing the windmill. Up close, the manor is even dingier, but it looks mildly more suitable than the windmill. It's hard to see inside the grimy windows, though you can barely make out conversing personnel within.
"Here, Section Commander. We've cleared the dirt off." A soldier waves to Erwin's gang, then points at a discovery sunken into the dirt and recently cleaned.
You stand beside Erwin and inspect what's been uncovered: it's a cellar door. Two hefty wooden doors are barely surfacing above the ground, likely leading to a basement underneath. They've been closed for decades, and only now have they been reintroduced to sunlight after the Scout Regiment has cleared the layers of earth disguising them.
"A cellar," you say obviously. "Fascinating."
"What do you think is in there?" Moblit asks.
"We don't know," Erwin says plainly. "But whatever's down there would be archeologic. Relics of the past, most likely."
"Then—then open it!" Hange nudges one of the attending soldiers, anxious to uncover the time capsule.
The soldier hops to and motions to his comrades before wrapping both hands around one of the metal handles. It's stiff, but with enough force and help the Scout is able to tear the door out of its dirt-caked frame and swing it back on its hinges. They're more successful with the other door, and the new portal is opened up to your waiting eyes.
Stone steps immediately spill out at your feet, traveling into a chasm that's illuminated only by sunlight. Stale must dominates the air before you've even entered, warning you of what's to come.
"Come on!" Hange patters down the stairs first, unable to be stopped by Moblit.
"Go ahead, Supervisor," Erwin encourages, or rather orders. "I'll be right behind you."
You decide against putting up a fight and simply descend the stairs, following Hange while Erwin waits.
It's a root cellar, clearly. Worn wooden shelves line three of the four walls, affixed to brickwork supporting the wooden roof overhead. There's a supporting post assisting in this effort, and it's surrounded by barrels that are too atrophied to hold any contents.
The shelves are rather bare, but there's a few clusters of glass jars—some sealed, some open, some filled, some empty, and some completely shattered. The room has been tainted with the foul odor of whatever used to occupy the broken ones. The dirt floor is darker in some spots, stained with ancient spills.
"It's...awful in here," you have to comment. "It's sickening."
Hange doesn't respond, too intrigued with a jar label they're reading—or trying to read. "Look, Moblit," they call to the vice captain that entered behind Erwin. "Sketch this alphabet. It's completely different than ours."
You join Erwin as he takes a jar, both of you reading it together. The script is completely unrecognizable, and it stuns you. You're no historian, so you don't know the specifics of the shift of written or verbal language over humanity's timeline, but it's captivating to glimpse at this relic of history.
"Curious, isn't it?" Erwin's tone is flooded with interest; you've never seen the section commander so fascinated. "What people had this language that doesn't exist to us?"
"Ancient men," you guess, perturbed by his intensity.
"Before the construction of the Walls?" He eyes you, fully vested in your opinion.
"I would think so." You try to examine the jar's contents, but it's nothing more than a murky brown liquid.
"Guys!" Hange thrusts a new jar into your vision, pointing at the glass. It's filled with white, soggy slivers of some vegetable soaking in a foggy grey liquid. "Back me up. This is sauerkraut, isn't it?"
"It looks like it," you admit, squinting at the rotten cabbage.
"Right! And—look, it's labelled." They rotate the jar to show you the handwritten, unreadable script. "So! These symbols must mean sauerkraut, right? Knowing that, we can find more jars that we know the contents of, and then correlate it to their labels. We could start deciphering this alphabet!"
"Indeed," Erwin says. "I'm not much of a linguist, Hange, but you're more than welcome to look into it."
"Moblit!" They dart away from you and back to their assistant, commanding him to find more labelled jars.
Erwin watches the two converse, his lips pursued into a thin line. "Safer than trying to experiment on Titans," he muses.
You stifle a laugh. "Trying to keep them distracted, Section Commander?"
"Yes," he confesses. "It's fairly effective. It worked on you, too, after all."
Amusement is sapped out of your mind with that comment. "What?" You face the section commander, a frown tugging at the corner of your lips.
"Oh, I'm sorry." Erwin's apology seems genuine, yet misplaced. "I thought you had already picked up on that."
You stiffen. For once, Erwin has pulled your strings while you remained blissfully blind, and you danced to the tune he has composed for the sake of your psyche. Between languor and gloom and anxiety, you didn't have the chance to scrutinize his actions. You simply followed his command, and now you see the real intentions of his scheme.
Because what purpose does a nurse serve in inspecting a root cellar? Next to none. It's just a distraction to keep your mind off your absent partner.
You meet Erwin's eyes, barely able to make out their blue hues in the dim light. "That's...strange, Section Commander. I didn't think you'd bother to show that sort of concern for me. I mean that politely, really, but—"
"I understand. You're right, I'm not the most amiable leader." Erwin returns his jar to the shelf, absorbed by his own thoughts. "But having you pointlessly examine cellars is better than allowing you to stay pent up in the windmill all day. It's best to keep busy."
"Hm." You look at the cellar exit, gazing at the white square of light that exits into the outdoors. "I wouldn't have done that, Section Commander. I can stay focused."
"Up to a point, perhaps." Erwin drifts alongside the shelves, his eyes skimming their contents.
"Sir," you press, siphoning a drop of accusation into your tone. "Do you question my ability to stay focused?"
He doesn't skip a beat. "I've witnessed your dedication to him, and I've gauged the hierarchy of your priorities. I have a decent sense of where your interests lie."
You can't tell if you want to be offended or not. Sure, you're dedicated to Levi, and Erwin knows that. That much is true. But the implication that you can't function without the soldier is simply wrong. You're capable, and this section commander doesn't seem to believe that notion.
He should, though. You already accepted Erwin's choice to send Levi with the subsidiary army, making your opinion clear to both men. You promised Levi you'd remain safe while he was gone, and the two partners have been separated to follow Erwin's will. The strategist still doubts your loyalty nevertheless.
"I already said I was okay with him leaving. I have enough independence to focus without him." It's a strict, cold statement, but that's the only language that will speak to Erwin.
The section commander doesn't falter. He glances back at you, his eyes icy and unforgiving. "Will you have that same independence even if he doesn't come back?"
You freeze up, your gut wrenched with horror. The notion has only surfaced occasionally, and you shove it back down whenever it does. Levi's strong; he has the best chance of surviving out of anyone in the regiment. He's not invincible, yes, but he's better than most. He will come back, of course.
He must. He will!
Erwin faces you during the silence you're failing to fill. "Or are you operating on the hope that he will return, and nothing else?"
A flare of anger fires off in your head like a gunshot. You don't know its origin, but you know its target. "I'm not wrong for wanting him to return. That's human nature."
He says nothing. It's as though he can't sympathize with those feelings, and, frankly, you don't know if he can or not. If he knows that sort of dedication to another, he certainly doesn't show it.
You're compelled to keep going. "Of course I don't want to lose Levi—the entire regiment has people they don't want to lose. But just like the regiment, I know what my priorities are. Humanity comes first. I know that."
"Hm," is all he utters. Does he not believe you? Have you really failed to portray yourself as nothing more than a loyal partner to Levi? Even Levi had warned Erwin of your independence, but this section commander doesn't seem to trust that.
You're irritated by how little faith this leader is placing on you. "It's hard for me, but I'm not weak. You don't need to coddle me."
"Good." Erwin listens to the frantic conversation between Hange and Moblit, then returns his attention to you. "You're an exceptional soldier. I don't want you ruined if he doesn't come back."
"He's going to come back." You fire out the sentence before you can think, and you scold yourself for being too hasty.
"We don't know that," he counters coolly. "And you need to be prepared for that possibility."
"I am prepared." Irrationality is taking over, giving way to anger. "I'm fine. I know. I—" You sigh, bottling up your frustration before it's thrown at your superior. "I'll be okay."
He's not anxious to soothe your vexation, rather indifferent to the swelling of your emotions. "You and the other nurses differ from the other soldiers. You're not familiar with loss like us—"
"Yes, I am, and you know that." It's almost impossible to keep the dynamite smothered, and Erwin's taking the brunt of your explosion. "You know about my father. This sort of grief isn't—and won't—be new to me. I'm not an innocent child, so please do not treat me like one."
Arguments don't frighten the blond, nor rising tension. He faces you with the entirety of his broad frame, staring into your eyes unwaveringly. "No, but I will treat you as one that sympathizes with others. Your tendency for attachment leaves you more prone to grief should you lose a loved one."
It takes an act of the powers above to stop the scoff that wants to escape. You succeed, but your temper isn't quelled. "Maybe it does, but that's a risk I'm fine with taking. We can't all shut out others like you do, Erwin."
Erwin is wordless, though unruffled. His expression doesn't change while he ruminates on a response. "Section Commander," he corrects.
"Section Commander," you repeat, desperately trying to douse your flames of rage. Prickles of rationality poke at your psyche, reminding you of who you're talking to. This is Erwin Smith. He's intelligent and strategic, but he's damn heartless. He won't buckle under heavy emotions, and he doesn't take to naturally empathizing with others. That's what you've deduced about him so far, and no part of it speaks to you. You've spent time with Levi, the lone soldier who has lost companions and suffers in the wake of their death. Levi knows pain, and he wallows in grief that seems to bounce right off Erwin.
You don't want to prematurely judge the section commander and label him as a callous monster, but he's giving you nothing else to work with. There's no other way to interpret him.
And there's no other way to approach him. You process emotions that he keeps suppressed, and it's nearly impossible for these two forces to meet. It's futile to keep fighting against him.
"I'm...going to go check on the troops," you declare. You turn on your heels and make your way to the exit, completely devoid of courage to look back at the superior you've turned your back on.
He says nothing, and Hange and Moblit go quiet as the nurses' supervisor ascends from the cellar.
You don't check on soldiers at all. You head straight to the windmill, shame and frustration swarming in your head. Nurses and soldiers occupy the bottom floor, but you largely ignore them and go to the second story, the most private place you know out here.
Thea's the only one present. She's checking her medical equipment and cleaning up her supplies, humming a tune to herself.
"Hey!" she greets cheerily, her smile finally untainted by fear and back to its usual glow.
"Hey, Thea." You sigh loudly as you sink to the floor, slouching against the wall.
"Did something happen?" she asks, returning a scalpel to its slot in her pouch.
"Kind of." You loll your head back and gaze out the window at the navy blue sky beyond. "I got into an argument with Erwin. On accident."
"Oh, geez. With Section Commander Erwin? That's scary." Thea shuts her pouch and returns it to her bag. "He's really scary. To me, at least."
"He is," you agree. "He's so cold. Like, he has to be. I get it. But sometimes it's overwhelming."
"Good things he's not a nurse," Thea chuckles. "He'd do terrible at soothing distressed patients."
You smile at the idea, trying to picture Erwin in such a context. "I can't imagine it."
"That's why we're here!" Thea continues proudly. "A part of the reason, anyway. We've got humanity that these no-nonsense soldiers lack. Heck, even if we don't save lives, we're at least returning some heart to the regiment."
"You think so?" You shift your gaze to her, curious as to her opinion.
"Yep. I've thought a lot about it." She nods, sure of herself. "I think this regiment needs sympathy. I mean, Levi's the most sympathetic soldier I know, and even he's a rude, crotchety man." She glances up at you. "No offense."
"None taken." You shrug. "I know what you mean, though. A lot of the men and women here are always so...somber. I know why they are, but it can be demoralizing."
"That's why I like Section Commander Hange. They can smile in the face of pain—it's admirable."
"It is," you agree softly.
"So I take inspiration from them. I want to give these guys comfort that they can't give themselves."
"Yeah. So do I."
"You're doing way better than I am," she adds. "Levi's like, the toughest one here, but you've got him figured out in a heartbeat. I'm impressed."
"It's nothing," you mumble. "I just care about him."
"Of course!" Thea's entirely on board, in full support of your growing relationship. "That's why—"
Thundering footsteps cut her off, emanating from the commander ascending to the second story of the windmill. You leap to your feet almost as quickly as Thea, scrambling to get off your ass and properly salute the supreme leader.
"We are on a goddamn expedition," Keith bellows ferociously. "Get the hell out there and make yourselves useful!"
"S-sorry, sir!" Thea stutters as she tosses her things aside and flies out of the room, you behind her.
You join whatever available soldiers in their tasks, keeping busy just as the commander instructed. Time passes slowly, tensely. You're instructed to take record of rations, to compile notes regarding the landscape, or to examine equipment. It's hardly within your jurisdictions of a nurse, but bodies must be kept busy. Erwin's getting his wish.
In the late afternoon, you speak with soldiers regarding the sterilization procedures required when handling immediate injuries. The regiment is afraid of an influx of casualties when the subsidiary army returns, already turning to you for advice on how to deal with the approaching storm.
To support their worries, a faint squeal of a sound grenade pierces the air during your conversation with Nifa.
"Oh," she utters, turning her attention away from you. "They're already coming back!"
A part of you is thrilled about their early return, the other part flooded with dread. Why so soon? Was it too intense out there? Is Levi okay?
You stand outside the medical tent and survey the horizon, waiting for the sight of the returning troops. Soldiers have been prompted to prepare for their arrival, but you can't do anything besides stare.
"Supervisor." Erwin's broad hand rests on your shoulder, his other gesturing to the horizon. "Their early return most likely indicates mission failure. That means a good amount of casualties have occurred. Are you ready?"
You swallow thickly, your palms slick with sweat. "Yes—yes, sir. I am."
"Good. All injured soldiers are placed under your care; the regiment will handle the others. Keep a level head and do your job. Now isn't the time for hesitancy."
"Understood." You glance at his hand, then at the farmland around you. You have a job to do now, a rather crucial one. "I need to get the nurses."
"That you do." Erwin leaves you swiftly, calling to the commander to make other arrangements.
You tear yourself out of the spot on the ground you had been anchored to, then scurry around to find the rest of your group. The drumming of horse hooves is barely audible in the distance, but it increases in volume incrementally while you summon your friends.
In the medical tent, all five nurses check their equipment while briefing with each other. Ruth cleans scalpels while Thea unpacks gauze rolls, the two women murmuring to each other underneath Oscar's anxious venting to you.
"How many injuries do you think there will be?" he asks fretfully, readjusting the makeshift exam table and cleaning off its surface.
"I have no idea, Oscar." You check labels of medications and injections, rearranging them on the table. "Honestly, we should prepare as if all of them got injured."
"All of them?" The idea horrifies Oscar. "That's too many for us to handle!"
"No, it's not," Ruth declares. "We can do it. We handled them in the Shiganshina hospital just fine."
"W-we had dozens of nurses back then," Oscar counters pessimistically.
"Relax, Oscar." Ruth stops her preparations to console her partner. "We need to be ready for the worst. We're their hope now; we can't freeze up all of a sudden. Got that?"
Oscar meets the steady eyes of his lover, and he nods once. "I got that."
"Good. Supervisor, we'll finish up in here. Do you want to go...well, receive the army?"
"Sure," you agree, heading to the tent exit. "I'll bring them in any second. Be ready."
You leave your group behind, stationing yourself outside and preparing to witness the results of the subsidiary army.