Not this shit again. Damn him.
The clapping, stomping crowd roared and chanted itself into a mindless frenzy, their palpable bloodlust battling for dominance with the piss-sweat-beer fumes. Watching the two men on the slightly elevated stage circle each other, feint, strike, score, sweat and bleed in the artificial light was equal parts thrilling and chilling... and far more nerve-wracking than riding out the Gates at the start of a new Scout Expedition.
Levi will be grounded after this. For fucking life! Best lock him up in a prison, I never authorized such action!
The little shit was only wearing a white undershirt and brown pants that barely reached the knees, his wiry body and the oversized gloves on his hands accentuating just how tiny he was in comparison to the massive hulk of a man he was facing. Zoë clenched her teeth and balled her fists extra hard to prevent the smug-faced Rudi Bindella from realizing how anxious she was. Wherever you went in this world, the same rule applied: The ruthless are ruthless, so do not show any weakness.
"King, King, King of the Ring!" The crowd roared when Levi dodged an attack by diving underneath Donatella's massive arm. But what good did it do to be the spectators' favorite when you had your neck snapped? The normally strict rules in boxing did not apply in the illegal fighting pits. There was no referee. No bell. Fights ended when one or both opponents could no longer fight. Many were maimed for life. It was part of the allure.
There was a lesson in there somewhere. A lesson about humanity's depravity and unwillingness to live in peace.
Donatello Bindella had to weigh at least four times as much as Levi, which he quite skillfully used to his advantage. Zoë felt every sledge hammer hit that he rained down on Levi in her own gut. After twenty minutes that felt like a lifetime, the little shithead was bleeding from a cut above his eye, half of his face covered by drying blood, his initially pristine shirt dirtied. Bindella kept going for the head and the legs. To smash in the first and break the second - and he was repeatedly coming much too close to either for her taste.
Levi had flashed her a brief smirk before jumping up into the ring. Was that meant to reassure her? It didn't look like he was winning, quite the opposite. He was in exceedingly bad form tonight, his wound probably troubled him. Please let it be an act, please. But would someone as proud as Levi pretend he was losing? Well, his struggles did add to the entertainment of the crowd, that much was clear: The more he slowed down, the more he staggered, the more excited the bloodthirsty spectators got.
"Is this how you fight on that damned island of yours?" Bindella sneered, not taking his eyes off the scene in front of him.
"We adapt our styles to our opponents," Zoë shrugged nonchalantly, yet had her heart leap into her throat. Their cover story had them come from a small island - off the coast of Hizuru. They cannot know we are Eldians! He's just fishing for information. Surely he would have turned us over to the authorities otherwise...?
"He stands no chance against my brother," Bindella turned his face to look at her. His eyes burnt with unconcealed hatred. "Like you lot stand no chance against Marley."
Zoë decided to laugh. If Bindella knew what they were, he had to die - it was as simple as that. She carried a knife strapped to her leg - with him sitting this close, one swift movement was sufficient to slash the pretty brother's jugular. And if she joined Levi up in the ring, they'd give short shrift to the ugly one too.
But she also remembered what Levi had told her: The Bindellas were the ones most likely to know where Eren was. And finding Eren was... kind of urgent.
Well then, no slashing throats just yet. Zoë leaned back on her chair and exhaled slowly to regain control over her fast beating heart. This was not back then, when Levi had "died" in front of her. This was here, now. They were older, wiser, she knew Levi so much better. Levi had to have a plan, that's why he had smirked at her like he was enjoying himself, right? Yes, that was more likely than him losing a fight tonight of all days.
There was a break eventually. That struck her as pretty ridiculous but she was probably just not used to the Marleyan ways of doing things yet - because of course, the break's main purpose was to make money. A hoard of hawkers circled the stands, each trying to shout louder than the other. She bought sugared almonds that were so hard she almost broke a tooth. The beer she purchased afterwards was stale and warm, disgusting, but she drank it anyway. Shady bookies were selling wagers with ludicrous margins. She noticed that the odds were no longer in Levi's favor. How very reassuring.
Searching the sea of faces with her good eye, she spotted Connie and Jean, hovering anxiously somewhere above and to the right. She waved to them and received two taut smiles in return. There was a young woman disguised as a man with them, excitement painting her smooth cheeks a rosy color. Zoë would have liked to talk to them - mainly about that plan Levi might or might not have - but before she could rise to make her way up to where they had installed themselves, a man in a green coat and peaked brown cap drawn low over his face approached Bindella. She promptly choked on a sugared almond when she recognized him.
Fuck me! It's Willy Tybur!
Zoë buried her face in her hands as she coughed her lungs out to clear her windpipe. What the fuck was that traitor doing here?!
"It doesn't look good," Tybur addressed Bindella gravely without a proper greeting. So the two knew each other well, huh?
"Yeah, time the dickhead learned his lesson," Bindella answered with grim glee. "The sooner we're rid of the likes of him the better."
"I meant for your brother," Tybur frowned.
He had his long hair hidden under the cap and kept his face in the shadows - but come on. Did people not recognize him? The coat was supposed to look worn but it was clearly a rich man's garment as were his expensive black boots that had been recently shined.
Rudi stiffened as he looked up at the noble in confusion. "What... Do you mean?"
"High time for Zeke to come back," Tybur sighed, his eyes falling on Zoë's face. They instantly narrowed.
Shit. She'd been caught staring.
"Who might this be?" The Eldian noble asked, a gentle smile appearing on his lips.
"This? Mrs. Smith," Bindella spat, a disgusted expression marring his handsome features. "The dickhead's wife."
"Ah," Tybur cocked his head as he held out his hand. "Enchanté, Mrs. Smith. Your husband is quite the fighter. I hope Mr. Bindella is treating you with civility?"
What do I say to him? Does he know we're Eldians? Should I kill him? Zoë's hand stroked over her thigh to feel for the knife. Tybur followed the movement with his eyes. Not just a rich pompous idiot; he was alert and wary.
And most likely much too valuable to kill at a whim.
"Thank you for your concern," Zoë lifted her hand away from the knife to shake Tybur's. "I have to admit I understand very little of the rivalries between these men. My husband and I haven't seen much of each other these past few months, we lived apart."
"Ah?" Tybur's polite smile deepened. "Then I wish you a happy reunion."
He released her hand after a firm but not-too-firm shake and turned back to Rudi.
"We did warn you that it was premature and you wouldn't listen - and yet, I am sorry."
And with that, he turned away, briefly touching two fingers to his hat and nodding in Zoë's direction. She groaned inwardly. Fuck this SHIT. I have to go back to the Titan Research Facility tomorrow. Have to! Let's hope he isn't a regular because I doubt I can fool him with my twin brother act!
But there was no time to dwell on what Willy Tybur's presence here meant for their future plans because the break was over. It was immediately apparent to Zoë that something unsavory had happened to the ugly Bindella during the intermission: The tank of a man's muscles looked... unnaturally pumped up, for lack of a better word, veiny, and painfully taut. His face was shiny and red like those things called tomatoes, his eyes looked entirely black from where she sat. He was also foaming at the mouth. Like a rabid dog.
"Does he keep a special diet?" Zoë asked, leaning forward a little when the big man stumbled. "I'm not sure it agrees with him."
"Shut up," Bindella snapped at her. "You can ask him yourself when he fucks you senseless after his victory."
Ah, 'the winner gets the loser's wife' was something he took seriously? Ridiculous. Levi didn't need another wife. He had her.
"Whom is your brother married to?" Zoë frowned. "My husband and I have an open type of relationship, but I'm thinking I want him all to myself tonight."
"Shut your fucking gob, whore," Bindella growled, fidgeting on his seat.
"This is no insult," Zoë lectured him sternly, "Whores are an important part of human society."
But Bindella didn't pay her any more attention. His brother up in the ring was losing it. It began with strange jerky movements, as if his joints were in need of lubrication. The crowd went insane when Levi began playing with him. There was a lot of foam coming from the man's mouth now, it was equally fascinating and disgusting. And then, Levi showed why he was called "The King of the Ring": His movements so fast the human eye could barely keep up, he catapulted himself high enough to slam his knee into Bindella's chin and used both his hands - he had ripped his gloves off - to simultaneously smash into his temples.
There was an ugly sound and then it was over.
Like everybody else, Zoë had jumped to her feet, swept away by the tension and the emotions. One foot on the fallen giant's chest, Levi lifted his fist into the sky. The crowd's roar was deafening. Levi smiled. Flicking some hair from his face, he swung down gracefully to land in front of her.
"Hey," he smirked. "Were you scared?"
Bindella growled and moved but Zoë moved quicker.
"I wouldn't," she told him amiably, the knife pressed against his ribs. "Go look after your brother."
Doctor van Bergmann had climbed up into the ring and was kneeling next to the fallen colossus, his expression grave. Rudi Bindella lurched forward with a cry of anguish.
"What happened?" Zoë asked Levi but the frantic crowd was pressing in to congratulate Levi on his win. There were people from the press, too, snapping pictures left and right. At an illegal event? Marleyans were strange.
"I saw fucking Tybur," Levi dodged the well-wishers and grabbed her hand hard, pulling her towards the exit.
"What?! Me too!"
His steps faltered briefly, a familiar scowl appearing on his features. "Did he give your identity away?"
"My ident... Shit, so he does know who we are? He did not let on at all!"
"What the fuck are you saying, you conversed with him in your father's house, of course he knows you!"
"WHAT?" She screamed, realizing with a shock that they were talking about two different people. "You saw Appius Tybur?"
They were in the backstage rooms now, away from the throng of people. There were guards of sorts, nodding demurely to Levi as he passed by them. He pulled her further along, into a dressing room with a wooden bench along one of the walls and slammed the door shut after them.
"Whom were you talking about?"
"Well, the other Tybur! Willy!"
"The traitor?" He drew his sullied shirt over his head and tossed it into a corner with a disgusted expression. "Did you kill him?"
"No, Levi, I did not kill him! I was tempted but I already told you he's a regular at the Titan Research Facility, he probably knows more than anybody else about Titans in the whole world!"
"Huh," he briefly stilled, staring at her. "They're doing Titan experiments on non-Eldians in those labs. The Panther told me."
Well, shit.
"Probably not a person you should trust," she grumbled, slightly distracted by the sight of his naked upper body. The bandages around his earlier wound looked alright, but there were deepening bruises there that she noticed with dismay.
"You dragged this fight out deliberately, didn't you?" She accused him. "What for?"
He shrugged, grabbing a clean shirt from a hook and pulling it over his head.
"So they gave something to that ugly brute?" She mused. That hadn't gone well. "What kind of experiments are they conducting?"
"Beats me," Levi shook himself, his hand going to his head to feel for the wound. It was no longer bleeding but looked painful and like it required stitches. Ernst would have to have a look at it later.
"Let me tend to that," she demanded, grabbing a washcloth from the sink.
"Nah, it's nothing," he claimed but she closed the distance between them and pressed him down onto the bench by the shoulders.
"Yes, it is," she chided him. "And how are we supposed to find Eren now? I doubt Bindella will be forthcoming."
"Hm," he clenched his teeth when she began to clean the wound.
"You're an idiot, Captain Levi," she sighed.
"You didn't really think I'd lose?" His gray eyes stared up at her a little offended.
"You're not immortal," she dipped the cloth into the water again and cleaned his wound as gently as she could.
"Marleyans can't fight," he grumbled, closing his eyes, visibly relaxing. She felt a sudden rush of tenderness.
"Idiot," she pressed out again. He smiled, his face still upturned.
"Connie and Jean were making inquiries about Eren," Levi leaned into her touch a little. "They'll be here soon to report. Bindella isn't the only source of wisdom in lowtown."
"Will you get access into the internment zone tomorrow?" Zoë asked. Her hand was resting on the uninjured side of his head, his slightly damp hair feeling silken against her fingers.
"Mmh," he nodded, looking smug. "Unless Jean fucked it up. Always complaining about the lack of girls but won't touch them even if they parade themselves naked before him."
"What if Connie and Jean did not manage to find out where Eren is?"
"Stop fretting," Levi opened his eyes. He still leaned his head against her hand. She moved her fingers to stroke his hair and he let her.
"It's my fucking job to worry," she told him quietly. "And of course I worry about you. Every fucking day."
He moved his own hand up to cover hers.
"I am careful, Hanji," his voice dropped lower, starting a flurry of butterflies in the pit of her stomach. "I know how important this is."
And do you know how important you are? Their gazes caught and held. There was always so much unspoken shit between them. What were they afraid of?
"The Panther said some weird shit," Levi continued haltingly, looking away to the side. "About Zeke Yeager who cannot meet with Eren or else. And..." He faltered, then looked up into her eyes again, suddenly appearing a little shy and uncertain. "Hanji, do you have strange dreams too?"
Strange dreams? Well, strange was probably the wrong word. But she had frequent dreams about shameless sex with Levi and they left her hot, bothered, wet, and in need of release.
"They're not what I would call strange," she admitted. "But, puh, very erotic."
"Ero...," he stiffened and jerked his hand away from hers. "Uhm..."
She quickly removed her hand from his head, a nervous grin on her lips. "so you're not talking about erotic dreams?"
"No, I'm not. But... never mind. I guess it is normal to have... erotic dreams."
"I'm sure it's normal," she agreed. A woman had urges. Especially after experiencing the real deal, from which she had cut herself off in an act of stupidity over a year ago.
He looked angry, despite his assurance that it was probably normal.
"So...," she cleared her throat. "What are your dreams about?"
"Stuff," he looked away again, waving his hand dismissively through the air.
No. This wouldn't do.
"Tell me," Zoë demanded, lowering herself onto the bench to sit next to him. "If they are bothering you."
He regarded her warily. "Dreams of things past, dreams of things to come," he murmured. "But it's probably nothing."
Zoë frowned at him. Unspoken shit.
"Why did you mention your dreams?" She demanded to know. "Is it something the Panther said?"
Jackpot. Levi's scowl deepened.
"Don't," she sighed. "Don't fall for his tricks again, Levi. He is a master manipulator, one of the few people who know how to get under your skin. I don't know what he wants here, but he is certainly no ally."
"Of course not," Levi answered gruffly. "Do you think I'm fucking stupid, Hanji?"
"Yes," she pressed out. "In some things, you are fucking stupid."
He swiveled around to glare at her.
"Glare all you want," she glared back, suddenly missing her second eye, because a one-eyed glare just didn't measure up to a two-eyed glare, "I won't let you spiral into self-hate again. I need you focused on our mission day and night, get it?"
He pressed his lips together angrily.
"Get it, Captain?" She snarled, boxing his arm.
"Yes, Commander," he pressed out reluctantly. "Yes."
"And now I order you to tell me what it was the Panther said that spooked you."
"That...," his breast heaved when he took a deep breath. "That Eren managed to erase my memories with some underhanded trick even though I'm an Ackerman."
Zoë stared at him. What? This made no sense. Her memories were fully intact, she was certain of it. From the moment Eren had told them about the memories he had inherited from his father and the ones before him, to the moment they had landed in these foreign lands to destroy or steal the enemy's Titans.
"Yeah, it's probably just him messing with me again," Levi murmured, briefly glancing at her stunned face. "You are right, I shouldn't even listen to his garbage."
"But you have strange dreams that make you believe him?"
"I...," he shook his head. "Forget about it. It's stupid."
It was always the same with him. One step forward, two steps back. Hide inside the invisible shell if someone came too close.
"No," she grabbed his hand. "Not anymore, Levi. I learned from our mistakes. And I want you to tell me what is bothering you."
"You are bothering me," he snapped, pulling his hand away. "Your hands are filthy."
"Sugared almonds and piss-beer," she grinned, lifting both of them as if she were to grab his face with them. "Let me hug you."
"You're a sick weirdo," he murmured, batting her hands away.
"Damn, I missed you so much," she grinned, her heart beating way too fast. They would interact more often in the next phase of the mission. She couldn't wait.
"Yeah, you already said that," he murmured and... blushed. The little shit had always been so damn handsome. After so many years, you still have this effect on me?
"Do you want to kiss?" Zoë blurted out, licking her lips.
He stared at her, his blush deepening before her eyes.
"What happened to no touching?" He asked. And added, with vicious emphasis: "Commander?"
A valid question. The thing about rules, she knew, was that they had to always apply, otherwise they might as well be abolished.
"You won," she heard herself say. "Don't you want to be rewarded?"
"Are you trying to pull some shit with me, Hanji?" He whispered hoarsely. "To punish me for making you worry?"
"Not my style," she chuckled. "Though I have to admit, thrashing you for this stunt does hold quite a bit of allure."
"You want to hit me?" Confusion and outrage showed in his eyes.
"Oh yes, frequently," she grinned. "You little shit. That's part of my erotic dreams."
He stared at her again, his face red. Then, his gaze dropped to her lips. "Yes," he cleared his throat. "I want to."
A bit of kissing wouldn't hurt anyone, right? Then why was she so nervous all of a sudden?
"Okay," she croaked. "It's your reward."
There were footsteps outside, the sound of low voices. Connie. And Jean. Damn this. We're always out of time.
She leaned forward, grabbing Levi's head with both her hands. He pulled her close at the same time and... oh heavens. Her lips instantly remembered all the pleasure his lips could give, had given hers. Don't stop. Not a chaste kiss please, no - she moved her tongue into his mouth, she needed to taste him. So familiar. So dear.
"Levi...," she gulped.
The knock at the door was brisk and urgent.
"Captain?" Jean called out. "Are you there? Is the Commander with you?"
"Fuck you, Kirshtein," Levi grumbled. He let go of Zoë with a rueful quirk of his reddened lips.
"Captain?" Connie called out to. "Can we come in?"
"What if it's true? What if he did erase my memories?" Levi asked in an urgent whisper.
Yeah... what if? Zoë shook her head, at a loss, a feeling of discomfort lodging herself in her throat.
"Let's find him and ask him," she said grimly, stroking once over Levi's cheek.
"Captain?" Jean poked his head in.
"What is it?" Levi asked grimly, not even trying to hide his annoyance at the interruption.
"I'm sorry, but we should probably go," Jean looked at him and Zoë apologetically. "There is trouble. The authorities are coming."
"Is everything ready for tomorrow?" Levi asked briskly, grabbing a pair of pants from the bench.
"Yes," Jean frowned. "Everything is ready."
I'm not, Zoë thought a little desperately. I'm not ready. Will we ever be free?