Levi's Point of View
I check my mailbox every day, waiting for the application from the girl. But every day it turns up empty. I wonder if she possibly reconsidered, letting her worries get the best of her.
I take a sip of my tea, looking through a stack of documents from the latest attack. It gives statistics on casualties and successes, amongst other things. Though it seems meaningless. This will probably be filed away and never taken back out.
Suddenly I hear a noise and I peer up from the papers sitting on my desk. A white envelope on the floor catches my eye. I get up from my chair, walking over and bending down. I pick it up, opening the door and peering into the hallway to see who left it there. Erwin is walking away. He peers over his shoulder at me before he continues on his way.
I close the door and carry the envelope over to my desk, sitting on my black leather chair. I pull the gold-plated letter opener out of my top drawer, sliding the blade under the top of the envelope. I put it away before I pull out the yellowed parchment.
(Y/f/n)
APPLICATION TO JOIN
THE SCOUT REGIMENT
Dear Captain Levi Ackerman, I (y/f/n), am requesting to join the Scout Regiment. I understand the possibility of death and the dangers of the job. I am willing to partake in training and possibly give my life for the better of humanity.
The image of the girl in the top right corner catches my eye. Her hair shines in the light of the camera flash, her bright eyes sparkling.
Her name is (Y/f/n). I read through the words scrawled on the paper before I get a piece of my parchment. I write her a letter of acceptance and slide it into a crisp, white envelope. I scrawl her address on the front.
I peer down at the address. She lives nearby. I could drop her letter off in person on my way to the market. I need to pick up some more tea, as I am running perilously low.
I seal the envelope with some glue and get up from my chair. I grab my jacket from the hook behind the door and slide it on as I slip out into the hall.
The dim hallway outside my office is mostly deserted, aside from some newer recruits that grow mute as I walk by. It gives me an odd boost of confidence, knowing I intimidate the little shits so greatly.
I exit the main building and into the fresh, crisp spring air. A light breeze blows through my hair, pushing it back and away from my face.
I walk down the gravel path, the stones crunching under my shoes. Flower petals on a nearby cherry tree float off the tree, making the surrounding ground appear as if it is covered by pink snow. They follow me through the wind as I begin to walk down the dirt road. In little time I reach the village.
The market is full of life, new crops being sold, and other various things. I stop at a stand and buy a small bag of fresh apples for (Y/n).
I continue along the cobblestone street and into the lower class part of town. I peer down at her address scrawled on the envelope, looking at house numbers in search of hers. Finally, I stop in front of an older looking, rundown house.
It had once been white, only small peeling patches of the once bright colour remaining. Small pots of various flowers sit on the stone windowsill. Whoever lives here has quite a green thumb. The windows are smaller and are covered by Royal blue curtains. The concrete stoop is freshly cleaned, despite the street beside it looking as if it's been neglected by the street sweeper. I almost crack a grin.
I knock on the wooden door and an older woman with greying brown hair answers.
"Ah, Captain Ackerman. What brings you to this side of town?" She smiles, seemingly surprised, as she wipes her hands on her white apron. It covers a simple light blue dress.
I wonder if she deliberately gave me the wrong address, deciding she didn't want to join after all.
"I'm looking for (Y/n). Is she..." I trail off as I see her appear in the hallway behind the older lady. She steps in front of her, smiling as she sees me.
"Hello, Captain." She says, her smile warm. It stirs something in me that I can't explain. I ignore the peculiar feeling.
"Hello, (Y/n). I have your letter. I am here to inform you that you have been accepted into the Sc-" I say, holding the envelope out to her when suddenly she clamps her hand over my mouth.
It takes every measure of my being to not tear her hand away from my face.
The older woman behind her stares at me for a long moment. She glances from me to (Y/n) before she turns and walks away.
"Here, I brought you some apples," I say quickly, handing the bag to her. Despite being one for words, I seem to find myself at a loss for them at the moment. I assume that she didn't want the lady to hear what I had to say, and I'd like to talk to her, so I invite her to come to the market with me. She gratefully accepts.
We walk southward, all the while, she explains her situation. She lived in Wall Maria, but when it came under attack just a few days prior, her family was killed. Of course, she sheds a few tears. I know this is something that will help fuel her desire to fight in the future.
She came to live with her aunt here in Wall Rose, which was the older woman who answered the door. Her aunt doesn't want her to join the Scouts. She fears for the life of her niece, having lost many family members just before.
"Which is why I didn't want her to know. I planned on packing my bags and leaving in the middle of the night, and leave a note explaining my absence."
"Why do you want to join so badly?" I question. "Do you realize that the risk of your death is very high?" I don't want anything to seem sugar-coated. She has a right to know what she's walking in to.
"I know. I just hate sitting around being afraid. I want to do something to help, even if it means giving my life."
That's the kind of passion we need.
I purchase some teabags and I begin to walk her back home. Suddenly I hear the loud clatter of hooves behind me, wooden wheels scraping against the road. A wooden carriage speeds ahead, barreling at an incredible speed, aiming directly at us. I have a second to shove (Y/n) out of the way and grasp onto the carriage. I climb into the driver's seat.
I shove the driver over and grab onto the ropes, yanking on them. The horses rear up, stopping in place.
The driver yells at me, his speech slurred. He smells strongly of alcohol. A half empty bottle of cheap whiskey sits on the floor of the carriage, toppled onto its side. He's drunk.
A few men in military police uniforms rush over to asses the scene. I wish to yell at the pricks, but I know that causing a scene is frowned upon.
"Tch." I mutter.
I hop down and jog over to (Y/n), who is sitting on the ground, her head in her hands. She peers up at me as I kneel down in front of her. A stream of crimson liquid runs down her face. Alarmed, I pull her to her feet. She sways slightly and her eyes seem cloudy. I notice a gash running along her head, right at her hairline. She cracked her head off the ground. She really isn't in any condition to walk. I kneel down, instructing her to climb onto my back, which she does. Then I walk back to her house.
I explain the situation to her aunt. "She has a horse out back if you need one." She responds quickly, clearly worried.
"Perfect," I mutter and I carry (Y/n) around the back of the house. I help her onto the horse and take off towards HQ.
Thanks for reading. xo