2
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On the other side of Trost, near the lush forest outskirts and situated on long, flat plains that seem to stretch out forever is the training camp for the Cadet Corps.
In the large log cabin, the cafeteria is full of life and mirth. Lunchtime is the only opportunity the seasoned cadets get to relax and converse freely amongst themselves, and they'll be damned if they let this brief slice of freedom go to waste.
"Everyone knows there's mutiny and corruption going on inside the Survey Corps." Isaiah takes another swig of his ale, pausing to swallow and gather his thoughts before continuing at full volume, "just look at the way they let their last Commander die! Let's not fool ourselves, Erwin Smith should've been revived."
Several people murmur vague responses, but only in hopes that he'll shut up.
Isaiah is the type to voice his opinions without remorse to whoever has ears. Thanks to this unlikeable characteristic, lunchtime is prone to fights and oppositional outbursts.
Two tables away from Isaiah sit three cadets; the most bright-eyed and bushy-tailed of the entire bunch. They treat every gruesome day of training like a challenge, possessed by a constant need to prove themselves to... well, to themselves. Truthfully, this trio has never shown any interest in making more friends then they've already established. An unspoken code guides their every decision. Live for yourself. Perhaps the world molded them into the people they are today. Or perhaps, they were born with this mantra already etched into their hearts.
Louise, however, will argue any day when prompted that it was indeed the world and its experiences that shaped her into the courageous cadet she's proud to be today.
"I can't stand him," She complains, her chin propped up on her hand. She watches Isaiah's arrogant body language from afar, eagle-like.
"Psh. Can anyone?" Surma scoffs. He is the most opinionated of the three. And if it isn't for his friends constantly telling him not to draw attention to their group, he'd happily engage in a battle of wits with Isaiah whenever the opportunity shows itself.
Caleb yawns. "Oh well. Good thing its our last day, right? We only have to put up with him for twenty-four more hours. Perhaps even less! Depends how fast he runs from here to the Military Police."
Surma takes a second to wipe his glasses clean. "He'll run pretty fast. Nit-wit... he doesn't even process what he's saying half the time..."
"Oh and don't get me started on their foreign relations schemes. They're conspiring with foreigners overseas, bargaining to save only a select few from this island for when war truly breaks out. You'll see, they only want to save their own assess. The highest ranking officers and probably that Jaeger guy will be the ones to make it out. The rest of us are screwed."
Finally, the straw that broke the camel's back. Surma's temper snaps. He jolts up like his legs decided to work of their own accord. "You're wrong! Eren Jaeger would never do that!"
Several heads turn to the outcry. Isaiah fixes a glare on the bespectacled young man. "Here we go again. I can't believe fanatics like you are allowed to join the ranks." He drawls.
"Oh no..." Caleb massages his forehead in resignation. He knows how this will end: not pretty.
"Eren Jaeger is going to save us all! He's done it before. He's the whole reason this city still exists. He plugged up Trost all by himself!" Surma implores, "He actually cares about Eldian survival."
"Oh please, he's in on the Survey Corp's schemes! He's been the higher-ups' lapdog for years now!" Isaiah bites back. "And you'll end up like him too, if you don't start formulating your own opinions like a well-rounded individual!"
Surma steps forward. "And what good are you? You're gonna go scamper off to the MPs. It's not like they've ever fought for a cause!"
"Shut up and keep your nose out of my business!" Isaiah stepped up to him.
"You guys..." A freckled girl with pigtails pipes up nervously. "The Instructor is going to—"
"Small-minded people like you shouldn't be allowed the liberty to talk!" Surma spits. "All you do is lower the IQ of everybody else in the room."
Before he can react, Isaiah's fist shovels into his face.
"Fight! Fight! Fight!"
Surma gets up from the floor almost as soon as he falls, anger coursing through every inch of his body. "You asked for it."
"He should know better by now." Louise cringes, not wanting to watch but unable to look away either. Surma may be tall, but he's significantly lanky, and has never been the toughest fighter.
Surma tries to punch Isaiah's throat but his fist is caught mid-flight, and Isaiah brutally punches his stomach— a weak point he had left exposed.
The whole cabin seems to tremble with erupting cheers as Surma doubles over, coughing.
The back door creaks open.
"Brats."
Shing! A streak of silver flies across the room— a knife. It grazes the top of Isaiah's head and pierces the wall.
A cold silence penetrates the atmosphere.
"What..."
Ominous footsteps make their way towards Isaiah.
"Did I say..."
Shivers trickle down everyone's spines as they watch the short figure stride past the tables.
"About noise..."
A cigarette is dropped and stomped on.
"during lunch?"
No silverware is clinked, not a single finger twitches. Nobody dares disturb the tension.
The instructor parks herself right in front of Isaiah; 5 foot 3 inches of pure intimidation and duress, a walking fear-factor. She is clad in the usual: a long, military trench coat, black slacks, a black button-up, and a black rancher hat with a low rim that occults the top half of her face.
She waits patiently for her subordinate to answer.
Isaiah, frozen this whole time, finally gathers the courage to turn around slowly and face her. He visibly gulps, "you've said... not to make a ruckus, because lunchtime is when you take a nap in your office."
"And who was the last person to interrupt my nap?" She asks.
"Uh... Toby, ma'am."
"And where is Toby now?"
Another gulp. "Not here."
"DO YOU WANT TO END UP LIKE TOBY?" She suddenly has him by the collar, forcing him to buckle to his knees to match her height.
"No, ma'am!"
Her lips twitch— the smallest of smirks. "Sorry, I don't think everyone heard you. What was that?"
Isaiah looks around the room from the corner of his eye, his ears beet-red with embarrassment. He finally gives in. "NO, MA'AM!"
A pause. After what feels to Isaiah like an eternity, she lets him go. But he doesn't dare move until she gives him the okay.
The instructor casts a sharp glance at Surma, who's been quietly doubled over on the floor this whole time, trying to blend in with the floorboards.
She nods to both cadets. "Get up."
Isaiah stands on his feet again. Surma rises from the floor.
One powerful sweep of her leg against their legs and the young men come tumbling down again.
Laughs and snickers break out amongst the tables.
She stares down at them, and at this angle they can see the crystal gray eyes behind the hat, piercing their souls just like the knife pierced that wall.
"Get up," She repeats like she has no idea what in the world could've possibly hindered them. She turns on her heel and strides back towards the door. The tables hush as she passes by. "Curfew is at 9. Your asses better be in bed by then."
"Jo!"
The instructor stops as she reaches the door, her head turning to look at the pair of cadets sitting to her left. They don't see anything from the nose up, but they can tell by the lack of severity in her mouth, her lips resting softly and socially now, that underneath that hat she is quirking a brow not in annoyance, but in genuine interest.
"That's Instructor Jo to you, Louise."
The first day on the job, Johanna didn't recognize Louise. Didn't know that she had a reason to recognize her. It wasn't until she paused down the line during interrogations, sizing up each cadet just how Shadis had done to her in her early years, that the girl boldly asked "Remember me?" in the middle of her salute. Johanna didn't know what to say. Was she supposed to?
"You and another soldier saved me in Trost when I was a little girl", Louise had said with a gratifying smile and a warm blaze in her youthful eyes.
Despite the event happening a little over 4 years ago, Johanna remembered it like it was yesterday. The merchants stalling the exit to the inner gate, the crowds of people desperate to get out, the appearance of the 14-meter Titan racing to eat them all alive.
Johanna, being the socially unskilled person she's always been, might not have shown it directly, but the sight of Louise all grown up did impact her. That day in the line up, she didn't seem at all like the shy little girl clinging to her mom. A lion-hearted spirit had possessed her, and it was evident in how the girl trained diligently and resolutely every day.
"Sorry," Louise says sheepishly. A worshipping sparkle adorns her big, round eyes. "I was wondering... well, I don't mean to ask personal questions about your days in the Survey Corps..."
The severity returns to Johanna's lips, pressing into a displeased line.
"But Caleb and I were just wondering—"
Caleb shoots her a look, scrunching his nose up, "Me? I wasn't wonder—"
"—if you knew Eren Jaeger. He was in the 104th like you, was he not?"
Eren Jaeger... the name Johanna can't seem to escape.
"See, Louise? Stop poking into people's lives, you're weirding her out." Caleb scolds, obviously suffering from second-hand embarrassment.
Louise frowns.
Johanna supposes she's been silent too long. She snaps out of it. She didn't mean to make it awkward, she's just at a loss for words. Speechless for a person she once had so much to speak about.
"Yes, I did." Johanna confirms. With that, she turns and puts a hand on the door handle. Her insides cringe. She wants nothing more than to abandon the topic right here.
But Louise's whole face brightens. "Seriously? Were you friends?"
"We were... close." She says, trying not to sound too conspicuous.
"You and Eren Jaeger were close?" says a voice behind her. Surma. It seems he's finally recovered.
Caleb folds his arms. "Hm, but not as close as you and me, right instructor?" His tone doesn't drift too far from boyish flirtation. He jokingly flutters his eyelashes at her.
Johanna can't help but scoff, and she lazily ruffles his hair. "Who could ever compare to you?"
Already having turned again, she doesn't see it, but the comical facade flushes from Caleb's expression and he touches the top of his head where her hand was, his cheeks redder than a bowl of cherries.
"Instructor Jo?" Louise says one more time before Johanna can close the door behind her.
Caleb and Surma both groan in exasperation.
Johanna sighs quietly, not ready to hurt the girl's feelings yet. "Yes?"
"Why did you leave?" Louise asks, seeking her out curiously yet respectfully. "You guys had just won the war for humanity. The Survey Corps was at the height of its legacy... so, why?"
Johanna stops to consider her next words, biting the inside of her cheek. After a short pause, she spills.
"I lost something."
The three cadets' faces sink, their energy shifting to concern.
Johanna gives them a smirk over her shoulder. "Relax, brats. I found it."
And with that, she disappears behind the door, leaving them with more questions.
╳ ╳ ╳
The hallway is dark, illuminated only by the feeble moonlight streaming in through the one solitary window on the way to the Instructor's personal office.
Johanna slinks past the darkness and heads towards the door.
I found it, she had told them.
She goes inside her dark office and closes the door behind her, leaning against it for a moment to gather her thoughts. She stares at nothing in particular, arms folded over her chest.
It's been 4 years since Wall Maria was retaken. 2 years since she last wore a Survey Corps uniform.
And 2 years since she took off that damned ring off her finger for good, and shoved it in a desk drawer in hopes that the gold might rot on its own.
Rot. Just like the love she once harbored for a certain green-eyed, reckless, titan-hating boy.
Johanna reaches inside her coat and her fingers slide inside her breast pocket, pulling out a brand new cigarette.
With the tan end sticking between her lips, she ambles to her desk and plops down in her chair. She puts her feet up on the desk comfortably, pulling out the top drawer on the left to fetch a lighter.
The first drag upon lighting the vice is a small slice of indulgent bliss. A sinful delight, one could say. Johanna's senses flatten to a hum, the fuzzy almost staticky texture filling her mouth as she rests her head back. There is a window behind her, and through upside down eyes she can see the outline of the forest and the moon shining down on the pine branches, drawing twisting shadows between the thick trunks, leaving the imagination to play tricks on the mind.
Another day, another listless night. Most of the time she likes to avoid sleep, to keep recurring nightmares away. It's like a game; how long can she endure without succumbing to her practical needs?
After the terrors from last night's incredibly brief sleep, having accidentally surrendered to her eyelids heaviness, she plans to stay awake to greet the sunrise this time.
Knock, knock.
Ever so slowly, Johanna raises her head to look at the dark oak door. The cigarette is poised in her right hand, threads of smoke curling from the tip.
"State your name and business." She says, monotone. Heaven knows how many times she's had to say that line since getting this job.
Her demand is met with a short, reluctant pause. Then— "It's me."
The voice is all too recognizable.
"Hmm, sorry." Johanna says with an all-too-sardonic politeness. "A bit busy right now, why don't you stop by another time?"
The door is carelessly shoved open and in enters Levi, not forgetting to shoot her a disgruntled look as he turns and closes the door behind him.
"Uh oh." Johanna crosses an ankle over the other, slumping further in her chair. "Come here to give me the talk? I already learned about the birds and the bees a long t—"
"Nice to see you too." He says, and it honestly sounds like he means it. His scowl, however, deepens when his eyes flick to the cigarette in her hand.
"Likewise. What happened to dinner on Saturday?" Johanna asks, half-knowing the answer already.
Levi sighs. "What always happens to dinner on Saturday." Although his voice is dead as a winter night, he runs a hand through the side of his hair, a sign of immense displeasure. "I'm sorry, I tried to make it but Hanji scheduled a meeting at the last minute."
"Right."
"I know it's the only free time we have to see each other."
"Mhm."
"I'll tell Hanji to fuck off next time."
"Its alright." She says, unfazed at his extreme remark. "I stayed and ate at the restaurant anyways. Cute waiter. He scribbled the time his shift ended on my napkin."
"Good for you."
"I never met up with him, but I got it."
Levi blinks. He's always been interested in his daughter's personal life, as any protective father would be. And he supposes he's not one to judge (he's never been very socially adept himself), but sometimes her decisions are cause for perplexity. "Why is that?"
She shrugs, taking another drag of her cigarette. "Figured I'd be nice for once. Do someone a favor. I saved him from any suffering."
Levi rolls his eyes. His attention quickly diverts to the cigarette again. "Stop smoking that disgusting shit. It's detrimental... unclean..." His voice drops to a mutter, "I would know."
"You know what, now that you say that— I like it even more." She says with a shit-eating grin.
"Tch," Levi clicks his tongue and lifts himself off the door, strolling calmly towards her and stopping at her chair to pluck the cigarette out of her fingers. He crushes the lit end on the window sill and flicks it aside into a dark corner of the room.
Johanna doesn't fight it. She usually doesn't when it comes to that fatherly concern. It's crazy knowing that there was a point in time when it did bother her, back in the early years when she didn't even recognize it as a parental quality.
Oh, how time has changed everything.
"Hanji wants you to come back."
The words are blurted out without warning or preface. Johanna raises an eyebrow skeptically.
"Sure... just tell me where from." She says evadingly. It's a poor joke, but if her red flags are popping up accurately like she suspects, this is about to be a very humorless conversation.
"Tch. Insufferable brat..." He says and ambles back towards the door to lean against it again. "You might've heard. Perhaps through word of mouth or newspapers.... the Survey Corps is planning an attack on Marley."
"To retrieve the Founding Titan." Johanna ventures cynically. "I'm aware of it."
"To retrieve Eren, yes." Levi says, not glazing over the fact that she didn't use the young man's name. "We need someone to take down the Armored."
"Get Mikasa."
"She's already—"
"Then get Jean. Don't overlook him, he's always been an underdog."
"Hanji asked for you. She specifically needs you. Also, take that shitty hat off, I didn't come here to talk to a piece of felt material."
Johanna huffs. Getting bossed around in her own office of authority did not sit well with her. But she obeyed, nevertheless, taking it off to reveal a head full of snowy white hair, the ends of it falling out the hat like a silver waterfall. Most days she keeps it pinned under and out of sight.
For obvious reasons.
Levi's face falters at the sight, a hint of upset twitching his lip, but he quickly composes himself. "You should ask Hanji about that."
"I already saw a doctor a while ago. Apparently it's my genes that make me more susceptible to stress. And... traumatic events." She adds rather flatly.
There is no need to elaborate.
Levi gives a solemn nod. "I see."
"No."
"No what?"
"No about the offer."
A long, drawn out silence settles between them. Johanna drums her fingernails on the desk patiently. The quietness doesn't bother her— it only makes her more excited.
"Good." Levi finally says and something shifts in his face, an effort to come off relieved. But it's too forced, and Johanna can't help but raise a sharp eyebrow. "Listen, if it were up to me, I wouldn't be here disturbing you. I respect the life you've chosen for yourself. Do I want you to come back? No. I'd rather you stay here where it's safe and I know you won't wind up dead."
Silence again. Johanna smoothly takes her legs off the desk and leans forward in her seat, hands clasped in front of her on the mahogany surface as she bows her head slightly, perhaps thinking. Her hair falls in front of her eyes and Levi can't make out what is going through her mind.
Until he hears her laugh.
It is a mirthless laugh, not the kind one would want to join in on.
"That's not why you're here." She says matter-of-factly. "And that's not why you're saying that. Following through on your military obligations despite personal conflicts has never been a problem for you. You're telling me to stay, not because you're selfish, but because you're selfless. Because you know very well," she lifts her cynical gaze to look him, "that by ordering me to do something, I will always do the opposite."
"Tch. I can't believe you're actually proud of that bratty behavior."
"What can I say? I'm a troubled child." She leans back in her chair again, arms folded. "So, what'll it be, dad?"
Levi hesitates. His gaze darkens, hopeless. "Stay."
As if recognizing her cue, Johanna slowly stands. She goes to the hook on the wall and grabs her coat, throwing it on and her hat as well.
Walking towards the door, she stops next to him. "Well... see you on the battlefield."
END OF CHAPTER 2