Archive of Our Own

When the Commander calls the senior officers into his office in the evening, there's usually nothing unusual about it. Another discussion of immediate plans, future victories, and recent setbacks awaits them. Those meetings rarely last long: seated behind his broad oak desk, Erwin listens to each captain's report in silence, occasionally jotting something down. Levi's briefings are always the shortest—he's never been one to waste words, especially when the subject is lives lost on the battlefield. The only person who ever has to be cut off is Hange, who'd happily spend hours talking about the latest experiment.

"We'll talk about it in a less formal setting, all right?" Erwin says with a smile, already knowing full well that Zoë is going to keep talking for at least a few more minutes. You could cut off Hange's head, and it'd probably spend another hour talking about titans. Maybe longer.

What exactly Erwin means by a less formal setting is anyone's guess. Not that Levi gives it much thought—in the end, the Commander's personal life has nothing to do with him. Whenever Hange comes barreling out of Erwin's office looking even more exhilarated than before, there's never any doubt about what happened: she'd cornered him with another lecture about titans and, naturally, asked for more funding.

A meeting called in the middle of the day, however, is a different story. The officers immediately start whispering in the hallways. What's waiting for them this time? Another unscheduled expedition against the Titans gathering near the Walls? Visits to the families of fallen soldiers to deliver news no one should ever have to hear? Whatever the reason, nothing good ever comes of an afternoon summons. Levi knows that much.

So when the senior officers gathered in Erwin's office that day, everyone's mood was already grim.

"Thank you all for coming," Erwin said, setting a stack of papers aside before rubbing the bridge of his nose. He really ought to wear glasses, Levi thought. Would save him from straining his eyes like that. Then again, the Commander could take care of his own health. "Sorry for pulling everyone away from work on such a busy Tuesday, but this really couldn't wait."

There was something almost playful in Erwin's voice. That never meant anything good.

"As you know, quite a few soldiers have taken leave ahead of the winter holidays to visit their families. Titan activity is low this time of year, so the remaining divisions will be more than enough to cover things while they're gone."

Levi let out a weary sigh. He'd never seen much point in granting leave, and so far, he wasn't seeing the point of this meeting either. Erwin was taking far too long to get to the point—completely unlike him. The only person who looked oddly pleased was Hange, who kept exchanging knowing glances with Erwin while impatiently drumming her fingers against one another.

"To remind everyone that there's still something in this world besides war, we've decided to put together a little celebration..."

"A party!" Hange exclaimed, as though she'd been waiting for that exact moment.

"Yes," Erwin conceded after a brief pause. "You could call it that."

The captains exchanged glances. Confusion flickered across their faces along with something that looked suspiciously like excitement. Levi couldn't relate. His eyebrows climbed of their own accord, his face twisting into an expression so baffled that it was impossible to tell who, exactly, had managed to offend Ackerman this time.

"So, this Saturday at eight in the evening, we'll be holding a celebration in the main hall. We should divide up the responsibilities now, so everyone knows exactly what they'll be in charge of—"

"I'm handling the music!" Hange cut in again, sounding almost afraid someone else might try to claim the role.
 
Truth be told, everyone knew about Zoë's vinyl collection, and not a single person had any intention of arguing.

"Very well. Hange, the music is yours. Mike, Rico, I'd like you to make sure no one goes hungry. I'll handle the administrative side of things. And you, Levi..."

Ackerman stared at Erwin in bewilderment. For a couple of seconds, the Commander looked as though he'd forgotten why they'd all gathered there in the first place, then turned an almost apologetic gaze toward his captain.

"You'll be making sure everything stays within reason. No one's had too much to drink, no one's starting fights—"

"So I'm babysitting, then?"

Levi folded his arms across his chest with displeasure. It wasn't enough that he'd have to spend the evening trapped in an unbearably loud hall full of rowdy, carefree soldiers—now he was expected to keep an eye on them, too. That definitely hadn't been part of the deal.

Erwin chuckled, a faint smile lingering on his face.

"You could put it that way. Personally, I'd say you're the only one the soldiers don't just respect—they're a little afraid of you, too."

Levi didn't know what to say to that. Irritation churned inside him, threatening to spill over, but the last thing he wanted was to take it out on Erwin in front of everyone else, so he bit back the sharp retort already sitting on the tip of his tongue.

"My apologies for the short notice. It took longer than expected to get approval from headquarters. Any questions?"

The captains immediately began firing them off over one another. How many people are expected? Are they allowed to bring their partners? Can they make a trip to the market farther into the city? Is it possible to dig out some better wine from storage? Will they be allowed to help put together the playlist? At that last question, Hange only let out a mysterious little hum and said she'd think about it.

Levi remained silent, simply waiting for the office to empty so he and the Commander could finally speak alone.

As the captains filed out one by one, Ackerman found it harder and harder to keep his thoughts to himself. Every passing minute gave him another reason to worry. What if the titans attacked in the middle of the celebration? What if this was headquarters' way of softening everyone up before cutting the Scout Regiment's funding altogether?

A low, exhausted voice pulled him from his thoughts.

"Was there something else you wanted to ask?"

Erwin ran a hand through his blond hair, smoothing it back before clasping his hands together on the desk.

"Yeah. I wanted to check whether you'd finally lost your mind."

Levi made no effort to hide the irritation in his voice. He knew no one else would ever dare speak to Erwin like that. Knew it, and still made a habit of testing the Commander's patience whenever the opportunity presented itself.

Erwin's only response was a quiet laugh. That, more than anything, almost made Ackerman's blood boil.

"I already know what you're going to say. We're at war, and people like us have no business celebrating. But tell me this, Levi—do our soldiers really deserve a life where all they ever see is death? Is a shared cause supposed to be the only thing they have left?"

"You're getting awfully sentimental over what's basically a children's dance party," Levi shot back, searching Erwin's words for even a hint of something he could argue against.

"Maybe I am." Erwin drummed his fingers against the desk. "A lot has happened lately." He looked up again. "Let them spend one evening feeling like ordinary people. Is it really that terrible?"

Somewhere deep inside, Levi had already surrendered, though outwardly he remained as unyielding as stone. Every time Erwin spoke to him like this—with that faint smile and exhaustion softening his voice—it became almost impossible to refuse him anything.

"And if I don't want to?"

One last attempt at resistance. The irritation that had been boiling inside him only moments ago was already beginning to fade.

Erwin let out a tired sigh and rested his forehead in his hands. One more question, Levi thought, and his head might simply fall off—or he'd unscrew it himself, leave it on the bedside table overnight, and put it back on in time for breakfast.

A flicker of guilt caught him off guard.

He was only making Erwin's life harder.

"Then it's an order."

Smith's voice had changed completely. The warmth from a moment ago was gone, replaced by the calm authority of a commander.

Levi didn't like loud music, preferred spending his evenings alone whenever Hange wasn't pestering him, and certainly hadn't planned on getting dragged into organizing a party. But an order was an order, and if he'd been told to make sure no one, caught up in the moment, decided to throw themselves out a window or drink themselves senseless, then so be it.

News of the party spread through headquarters in no time. The girls whispered excitedly about finally trading their uniforms for pretty dresses, while the boys debated who they ought to ask for a slow dance—assuming Hange's playlist even left room for one. Levi, meanwhile, resigned himself to his assignment. If he could handle several titans at once, a handful of tipsy soldiers shouldn't pose much of a challenge.

He rarely joined the others on their trips into town. At most, he'd trail behind the group of captains with little enthusiasm, making sure nobody managed to stumble into trouble. Erwin, on the other hand, had a fondness for the local taverns. He visited them infrequently, but whenever he did, people naturally gravitated toward him, eager to tag along.

Levi had never quite understood why he always ended up among them. Alcohol held very little appeal—unless it happened to be an expensive bottle of wine. Yet every one of those outings, few enough to count on one hand, somehow ended the same way: seated across from Erwin while the Commander worked his way through one beer after another, laughed a little louder with each mug, and eventually undid the cuffs of his shirt. Erwin's laughter—warm, almost boyish—never fit the image of Commander Smith, the man who sent soldiers marching toward what was, more often than not, certain death.

In moments like those, Levi found himself wondering whether they could have lived ordinary lives instead. Maybe Smith would've owned a tavern of his own—bright and spacious, just like his office. He probably wouldn't dust it very often, either. People would drift in every evening because they knew they'd always be welcomed with open arms, and maybe some of the younger recruits would pick up shifts there after hours while secretly working their way through every kind of liquor they could find, when Erwin wasn't looking.

"Levi, what are you thinking about?" the Commander asked during one of those evenings after noticing the distant look on the captain's face. Ackerman lifted his gaze from the table to the man across from him: Erwin, whose cheeks faintly flushed, was resting his head against one hand and watching Levi with curiosity.

"Thinking about how we're supposed to pay for all this," he answered, too embarrassed to admit that, in moments like these, he dreamed of an ordinary life just as much as everyone else did.

Erwin laughed again, so heartily that his voice drowned out the conversations all along the long table.

"Don't worry," Smith said after taking another couple of swallows from his mug. "It's on the house," he added, continuing to look at Levi with that same quiet, reassuring softness, as though he wanted him to let his guard down, if only for one evening.

Before long, though, Ackerman would have to do the exact opposite, and the evening would most likely stretch well into the middle of the night. The thought of gathering every young soldier in one place unsettled him—their fears, dreams, desires, and raging hormones all crammed together under one roof. "They're just kids," Hange liked to say whenever someone inevitably did something stupid, and if there was one kind of person Levi had never known how to deal with, it was someone who didn't have their head screwed on straight.

Those worries brought him back to the Commander's office two days later. Levi kept running through every conclusion he'd reached over the course of his endless deliberations: they definitely needed to put up a few signs listing everything that wasn't allowed, and someone had to remind the soldiers that many of them would be leaving for home the following morning, which meant they'd have to make it back to their own beds under their own power and pack in advance instead of rushing around at the last minute.

Ackerman was just about to knock when an unfamiliar sound reached him from the other side of the door. Nothing alarming—just music, something that had never once echoed through this office before. Soft, barely audible guitar chords floated through the room, accompanied by the warm voice of a man singing.

Levi knocked anyway. Then again. No one answered, and there were no footsteps approaching the door, either. The captain sighed—the last thing he wanted was to barge into someone else's office—but in the end, Ackerman pressed down on the brass handle, and the door gave way with ease, the music growing just a little louder.

We believed
We'd catch the rainbow
Ride the wind
To the sun

Levi froze in the doorway as though he'd just come face to face with an Abnormal Titan. Erwin, sprawled so comfortably across his chair that his outstretched legs stuck nearly half a meter out from beneath the desk while his hands rested behind his head, was simply listening to music. The Commander's face was completely relaxed, his eyes closed. Even the faint lines that seemed permanently etched across his forehead had almost disappeared.

But life's
Not a wheel
With chains
Made of steel
So bless me
Oh, bless me

Levi took a couple of quiet steps forward and silently closed the door behind him. He didn't want to interrupt whatever strange ritual Smith had found himself wrapped up in—for all the years they'd known each other, the Commander truly deserved to rest every now and then, though whether he simply forgot or deliberately refused to allow himself that luxury, Levi couldn't say. He wanted to watch this version of Erwin a little longer, this man whose face wasn't shadowed by a single trace of worry. Perhaps he was imagining it, but there even seemed to be the faintest hint of a smile.

The music slowly began to fade, the man's voice repeating the same line over and over until the needle scraped across the vinyl with an unpleasant hiss, making Erwin open his eyes.

"Excuse me, Levi," the Commander said, apologizing for reasons that weren't entirely clear as his usual composure settled back into place. The calm that had filled the room vanished in an instant, and Smith was once again sitting upright behind his desk, hands clasped together before him. "Hange brought it over, said I should give it a listen."

"So?" Levi asked, feeling oddly disappointed that the moment had come to an end. Part of him wanted to ask Erwin to put the record back on from the beginning so he could watch him like that just a little longer.

"It's not bad. A good band," Erwin replied with the matter-of-fact precision of someone delivering an official report before letting out a quiet chuckle. "Though I'm afraid it's a little too melancholic for our soldiers. Did you need something?"

Smith didn't give the captain a chance to continue the unexpectedly casual conversation, as though sensing that Levi himself wasn't entirely sure why he'd walked into the office without permission—let alone stayed to watch the Commander. Erwin, meanwhile, suddenly found himself feeling awkward. He had no idea how long Levi had been standing there, and there was something strangely embarrassing about having been caught in such an unguarded moment.

"Yeah. I wanted to go over a few details," Levi said, stepping closer before hesitating briefly and placing a small sheet of paper on the desk. "I put together a list of rules we should probably stick to."

"And what might those be?" Erwin asked, genuine curiosity laced with the same playful note that had crept into his voice earlier.

"First, no more than two drinks per person. Second, no smoking," he paused for a moment, "at least not indoors. Third—"

"Levi," There was unmistakable amusement in Smith's voice. "You might as well ban kissing in the corners while you're at it."

To be honest, the thought hadn't even crossed Ackerman's mind, but now he found himself seriously considering whether it ought to be added to the list. Coming from Erwin, though, it almost sounded like a challenge—as if the Commander himself intended to get completely drunk. The thought made Levi let out a heavy sigh. Babysitting a hall full of young soldiers was one thing; what truly worried him was whether he'd be able to keep a single Commander under control.

"I'll think about it," the captain replied, his sarcasm entirely undisguised. "Look over the list later, all right? I'd rather not spend the night scraping someone off the floor or dragging them out of someone else's bed."

For some reason, Erwin was smiling. As though the entire event had been conceived as one enormous joke—or perhaps as a test of Ackerman's endurance, to see whether he could survive an entire evening surrounded by the very same people he usually fought alongside.

"I promise." Smith slowly rolled his neck, trying to ease the stiffness that had settled there after yet another long day. "I'd like you to take this a little less seriously. I want this to be a chance for you to relax too, to forget, if only for one evening, the things you'd rather not remember."

Ackerman didn't answer. He merely let out a quiet hum of acknowledgment, as though he couldn't think of anything to say. He knew one evening would never be enough to erase everything that had lodged itself so deeply inside his mind: the sound of bones snapping and horses screaming, the smoke of signal flares smearing itself across the sky in thin, uneven streaks... or the sight of the Commander, utterly at ease, lost in his music.

Saturday crept up almost unnoticed. As early as Friday evening, the soldiers had stayed up well into the night gathered in one another's rooms, endlessly speculating about whatever the brass had prepared for them. Levi had half a mind to knock on every single door and lecture them all: explain why they shouldn't drink too much, remind them to be careful if they planned on stepping out onto the balconies, make sure they knew to find one of the senior officers immediately if they started feeling unwell. He wanted to, but never even tried. It would've been like talking to a brick wall.

By the time Saturday's afternoon training was drawing to a close and Levi was about to send the squad through yet another round of drills, they suddenly rushed him all at once, nearly knocking him off his feet.

"Captain, could you let us off a little early today?"

"Please!"

"We've already finished everything that was on the schedule!"

There were so many voices—especially the girls'—that Ackerman found himself momentarily taken aback. Out of breath and flushed from training, the soldiers crowded around him, all talking over one another as they pleaded for the captain to make an exception, just this once. Levi, who until then had been standing with his hands clasped behind his back, nearly reached up to clutch at his head before catching himself in time.

"At ease. You'll have plenty of time to enjoy yourselves later."

He'd been certain those few words would be enough to bring his subordinates back into line. The last thing he expected was for an even louder chorus of pleas—practically begging at this point—to come crashing down on him instead.

Levi was just about ready to put on his most intimidating expression—though it was hard to imagine how it could possibly get any more intimidating—when a familiar voice sounded from somewhere behind him.

"Dismissed! But when you come back, you'll make up whatever the captain asks of you."

The crowd of young soldiers surged forward so quickly they seemed to forget Ackerman had been standing in front of them the entire time. At least they had the courtesy not to bowl him over. By the time Levi turned around, they were already gone without a trace, leaving Erwin standing alone before him.

"So I'm over here trying to teach them some discipline, and you're busy spoiling them?" Ackerman asked with undisguised irritation, narrowing his eyes as the Commander made his unhurried way over.

"One extra hour of training, one less," Smith countered, tilting his head as though curious to see just how angry Levi was about to become.

"That hour could mean the difference between life and death out on the battlefield."

Erwin didn't answer. Instead, he stepped closer and straightened up. Every single time, Ackerman forgot just how much taller the Commander was, and every single time he ended up feeling like a teenager standing beside him.

"Levi, relax." Those words only made the captain stare at him in even greater disbelief, his face twisting into a look of open annoyance. "Do you remember what I asked of you?"

"To keep everyone under control and make sure nobody gets themselves killed."

"No. Not that." Erwin shook his head. "I meant what I said about this being an evening where everyone gets to relax. You included."

Levi hadn't even realized he'd completely missed the point.

"Easy for you to say. When was the last time you actually spent any time around a bunch of kids?"

Erwin met his gaze without flinching. There was a peculiar glimmer in those blue eyes, something dangerously close to mischief.

"More recently than you think. No, Levi, I'm serious." Smith's expression settled once more into something composed. Levi hated how effortlessly the Commander could change like that within the span of a heartbeat. "And if I catch you circling the room like a hawk all evening, I'll put you on a week's leave too."

That was a low blow. It felt as though someone had knocked the air clean out of Levi's lungs, forcing him to breathe all over again.

"So that's how it is." He folded his arms across his chest, as if trying to put some sort of barrier between himself and the Commander, however flimsy. "Fine. Then if I end up hauling someone to the infirmary with alcohol poisoning, I'm blaming you."

Erwin laughed. Only Smith could laugh like that. It rolled out of him like thunder across a clear sky, like the ringing of cathedral bells, like the roar of some great beast.

"If that makes you feel any better."

The Commander managed nothing more than one last smile before Levi slipped out from under his amused gaze and beat a hasty retreat from the training hall.

By the time he reached the main building, a crowd had already gathered even though the party wasn't due to start for another half hour. The girls had traded their uniforms for elegant dresses, the men for jackets and pressed shirts. Levi himself had dug an old suit jacket and matching trousers out from the back of his wardrobe, and had even unearthed a black satin shirt, so dark it was almost raven-colored. Dressing up had never been part of the plan, but after training he'd run into Hange in the hallway.

"You're not seriously planning to wear that, are you?" Zoë had exclaimed with something bordering on outrage before grabbing him by the elbow without waiting for an answer. "Don't even think about it! I personally won't let you into the hall if you're not dressed properly. Only attractive people get in! Understood?"

So he'd ended up ironing clothes that hadn't seen daylight in ages. Standing in the hallway beside what could generously be described as an ironing board, Levi overheard a group of younger soldiers enthusiastically discussing how they planned to keep the party going in their rooms afterward, only for the conversation to die the moment they noticed the captain holding a scorching-hot iron.

"Now that's much better!" Hange's satisfied voice sounded somewhere beside his ear. She'd dressed up too, and Ackerman was reminded yet again that Zoë wasn't just a researcher and an absurdly efficient killing machine—she was also, despite everything, a rather pretty woman.

Levi felt a little uncomfortable. He'd never liked people paying attention to the way he looked. He knew perfectly well that most of them wouldn't have spared him a second glance if he were just an ordinary man instead of humanity's strongest soldier. At his height, with eyes as sharp and hostile as a feral cat's, the only compliments he ever knew how to accept were about the way he handled his blades—not his appearance.

"Come on. Erwin asked us to meet him inside the hall before everyone arrives so we can get things ready."

The moment the tall doors swung open, several curious heads immediately tried to peek inside, but Hange put an end to that before it could begin, shoving Levi through the doorway. The hall itself had been decorated rather simply: strips of colorful metallic paper hung from the walls, catching the light whenever they shifted. There was barely any lighting to speak of, leaving the entire room steeped in soft shadows—as though someone had intentionally made it harder for Ackerman to keep an eye on the cadets and assess the situation. Beyond the large stained-glass windows, the night sky stretched overhead, while at the far end of the hall two spacious balconies and a smaller one opened onto the courtyard, places Levi suspected would be packed with people before long. Standing in the middle of the room beside Rico was Erwin, instantly recognizable by the broad shoulders beneath his black suit jacket.

"There you are," the Commander said, turning at the sound of approaching footsteps. His blond hair had been neatly parted to one side, every strand perfectly in place. Beneath the buttoned jacket, a pale blue shirt brought out the color of his eyes, and Levi caught the faint scent of his cologne—earthy, with an unexpected floral note lingering underneath.

Dressed up for someone, huh? Ackerman thought with quiet disdain, never taking his eyes off Smith.

"All right, the plan is simple." Erwin suddenly seemed to come alive, clapping his hands together. "We let everyone in, leave the doors open in case anyone decides to head back early, stay alert, relax"—he placed particular emphasis on that word—"and remember that our objective tonight is exactly the same as always: make sure everyone makes it through in one piece."

Everyone except Levi laughed. Ackerman, meanwhile, was preparing for the doors to open the way he usually prepared for another encounter with death. Well, maybe not death. Alcohol poisoning, on the other hand, was another matter entirely.

"I'll say a few words before we get started, just to set the mood a little. After that, you all know what to do."

A few minutes later, the doors finally swung open, and a flood of people poured into the hall. The very first through them was the newest recruit, Eren Yeager, dragging what looked like Armin and Mikasa along with him. Judging by their faces, neither objected to such an energetic entrance, even if their feet struggled to keep up. The others followed with considerably less enthusiasm. Reiner and Bertholdt, as always, stayed close together while eyeing everyone around them with quiet suspicion, Annie trailing between them wearing her usual vaguely annoyed expression. Sasha, Connie, and Jean, meanwhile, already looked as though they'd had a drink or two. Where on earth had they managed to find alcohol already?

The hall filled up quickly. Everyone was waiting for Erwin to say a few words at last—and, for one evening, stop being their Commander. Levi stood to his right, Hange to his left, already busy sorting through her stack of records. There was nothing left for Ackerman to do except fix as many of the soldiers before him as possible with a stern look, as though sheer force of will might somehow beam the rules he'd come up with directly into their heads. The reality, however, was that Levi wasn't even convinced anyone had actually read them. Including the Commander himself.

"I won't keep you long," Erwin's voice rang out, loud enough—and authoritative enough—to silence the chatter almost instantly. "I just want to thank all of you for your service. I hope tonight gives you at least a brief chance to breathe. Please be careful, keep an eye on anyone who looks like they might need help, and don't forget the rules Captain Levi put together for this evening."

I'm already playing the bad cop tonight, and you're making sure everyone remembers it, Ackerman thought, briefly considering adding something himself before deciding against it, whether because he remembered his voice could never carry across the hall the way Erwin's did, or because Hange had already dropped the needle onto the first record.

Something loud and relentlessly upbeat burst through the speakers.

The hall erupted into cheers, and within seconds the crowd seemed to move as one. Levi couldn't even hear his own thoughts anymore. Instinctively, he searched for Erwin's gaze, expecting the familiar cool composure that always seemed to ground him, but instead found two mischievous blue eyes looking down at him. Smith merely shrugged, as if to say, What can you do? They're just kids.

Shake, shake, shake, Senora, shake your body line!

Ackerman moved lightly across the granite floor, almost catlike in the careful way he threaded through the crowd, silently hoping no one would trample him in the process. The entire hall had succumbed to dance fever. He'd never imagined the very same soldiers who sometimes couldn't be bothered to get out of bed possessed this much energy. Arms shot toward the ceiling, heads tipped back, people danced as though their lives depended on this one song. Levi, meanwhile, thought it was utterly ridiculous. The moment the thought crossed his mind, the music cut out, plunging the hall into a few seconds of silence before the recruits erupted into a chorus of loud complaints, only for the pause to be replaced by an aggressive guitar riff that made Ackerman's head begin to ache almost immediately.

Girl, you really got me goin'
You got me so I don't know what I'm doin'
Yeah, you really got me now
You got me so I can't sleep at night

Hange seemed to have been born for exactly two things: fussing over her records and fending off cadets who kept asking her to put on one song after another. Levi couldn't deny it—Zoë had excellent taste in music, and judging by the reaction in the hall, most people agreed. The captain himself, on the other hand, was about as far removed from the world of music as one could be. He barely kept track of popular artists and, truth be told, didn't even know most of their names. Every now and then he overheard conversations between Erwin and Hange whenever the researcher enthusiastically recommended some new band or another for the Commander to listen to, though whether Smith ever found the time for that particular pastime was highly doubtful.

Without warning, a body came flying out of the crowd and crashed straight into an unsuspecting Ackerman.

"Sorry, Captain!" The unfortunate culprit—Eren Yeager, of course—straightened the collar of his rumpled shirt, brushed the hair out of his face, and disappeared back into the crowd. "Mikasa, wait up!"

Nothing but trouble.

Every so often Ackerman found himself having to dodge the increasingly rowdy soldiers, who by now seemed to have forgotten he even existed. Maybe that was for the best. A long line had formed in front of the wine table, and Levi realized with growing dismay that absolutely no one cared about his carefully drafted rule limiting everyone to two glasses. Some recruits walked away carrying a third between their teeth, while others simply stayed by the table and kept refilling their glasses before they'd even finished the previous one. Levi wasn't entirely sure how they were planning to replenish supplies that were disappearing at such an alarming rate.

Still wearing the same long-suffering expression he'd had all evening, Ackerman took his place at the very end of the line for wine. Cutting to the front by virtue of his rank held no appeal whatsoever, and besides, this corner offered an excellent view of the entire hall. As he slowly inched forward with the rest of the queue, his gaze drifted from scattered groups of young soldiers to couples lingering against the walls. By then the energetic music had given way to something gentler, carried by a warm, velvety voice.

Fly me to the moon
Let me play among the stars
Let me see what spring is like
On Jupiter and Mars

Ackerman's gaze caught sight of a familiar broad-shouldered figure in the dim light. Erwin, his suit jacket already discarded somewhere, was dancing with several women at once, offering an arm to one, then another, smile never leaving his face. They were also smiling from ear to ear as they watched their Commander, who had quite obviously exceeded the two-glass limit by now. There was something almost theatrical about it all: the flourish with which Smith extended his hand to each partner, the effortless gentlemanly smile he wore, the way his shirt clung to the sweat gathering across his back. Without taking his eyes off the scene—or even paying attention to where he was going—Ackerman absently picked up a glass of wine from the table and drifted toward the wall, where he found himself with a perfect view of Erwin on the dance floor. At this rate, the Commander would probably end the evening even more exhausted than everyone else. Levi couldn't understand how anyone managed to find peace in all that movement. But there was nothing frantic or chaotic about the way Smith danced; no wild flailing, no reckless energy—only an easy, measured sway from side to side and warm, attentive glances directed at the women in his company, treating each of them with the same gentle courtesy he might have shown a younger sister.

The song came to an abrupt end. In place of the warm baritone that had filled the hall moments before came something that could only be described, in Levi's mind, as a shout.

Twist and shout 
Come on, come on, come, come on, baby, now 
Come on and work it on out

Smith politely slipped free from the girls' hands, smiling as he shook his head. They were clearly trying to persuade him to stay a little longer, but he'd obviously run out of steam. The moment he spotted Ackerman, Erwin headed straight toward him with an easy confidence. Levi chose to pretend he hadn't noticed and hid the lower half of his face behind his wine glass.

"Well," Smith said, breathing heavily as though he'd just come back from an expedition beyond the Walls, "I'm not keeping up with them anymore." Levi could feel the warmth radiating from his skin, the earthy scent of his cologne now even more accurate. Leaning back against the wall, Erwin made no attempt whatsoever to avoid brushing shoulders with the captain. "How are you doing, Levi?"

There was far too much packed into that simple question. First, there was the genuine interest with which Smith kept asking his subordinate that very thing—and, as far as Levi had ever noticed, only him. As though he truly wanted to know the answer. Then there was that same playful ease Levi had already grown tired of over the past few days. He wasn't some girl for Erwin to casually bump shoulders with like this. And asking how he was doing so brazenly—couldn't the man see perfectly well?

Before Ackerman had a chance to answer, the half-empty glass was deftly plucked from his hand. Levi remained standing there, arm still half-raised in confusion, until he watched Erwin finish the rest of the wine in a single swallow. A drop lingered at the corner of his mouth before slipping down across the rough stubble of his chin and reaching the middle of his neck, where Smith wiped it away with one careless sweep of his hand.

"I'll get us some more." Without waiting for a reply, Erwin wandered over to the wine table and, naturally, didn't bother joining the queue. He simply picked up two glasses from the edge of the table and returned a moment later with that smile—damn it, that smile again—holding one of them out to Levi. Ackerman had just begun to think Erwin had already forgotten the question he'd asked, but apparently not.

"So?"

"Everything's under control. No incidents so far." Ackerman once again hid behind the rim of his glass, watching the Commander from beneath lowered brows.

"Oh, come on, Levi." Erwin laughed, nearly sloshing wine over the edge of his own glass. "I told you to relax, not give me a situation report."

"You should really decide what it is you want from me," Levi shot back, snapping at him for reasons he couldn't quite explain even to himself.

The record changed again, and the entire crowd suddenly began jumping in perfect unison.

​​So messed up, I want you here 
In my room, I want you here 
Now we're gonna be face-to-face 
And I'll lay right down in my favorite place

"You already know what I want," Smith said conspiratorially, raising the glass to his lips without taking his eyes off Levi. His breathing still hadn't quite settled, and Ackerman noticed that one side of Erwin's collar had become hopelessly rumpled.

"Yeah. You want me to relax and enjoy the evening." Without thinking, Levi reached up, caught the edge of Erwin's collar between his fingers, and smoothed the fabric back into place in one simple motion. The familiar scent of his cologne washed over him again.

"That's right." Smith didn't react to the unexpected gesture in the slightest. Instead, he simply smiled again, as though nothing unusual had happened.

"Go bother someone else. You've got plenty of volunteers," Levi muttered. There wasn't any jealousy behind the remark, but there was something else—something he couldn't quite put a name to, and whatever it was, he didn't like it. The girls he'd been referring to had long since wandered back to their friends, apparently forgetting all about the Commander.

"Oh no, Captain. I came here to bother you."

Something inside Ackerman stirred at those words, ruffling beneath his ribs before creeping up the back of his neck in a cold shiver. Has he already had that much to drink?

That was the first thought that crossed Levi's mind, but the clear, perfectly lucid look in Erwin's eyes immediately proved him wrong. Ackerman had to remind himself that there was, in fact, a chain of command between them. Boundaries. Rules that were supposed to exist. Yet the line separating them felt as though someone had been patiently rubbing it away with an eraser.

"For tonight," Smith continued, deliberately nudging Levi's shoulder with his own this time, enough to make the captain shift half a step, "I'm taking you under my wing."

"I'm literally your subordinate." Ackerman's right eyebrow arched into a skeptical curve, and he did everything he could not to look back at Erwin, despite feeling the weight of the Commander's unwavering gaze.

"No, Levi. Not tonight." Smith rested his chin thoughtfully against his hand. "Tonight you're my—" He paused, genuinely searching for the right word before giving up with an amused little smile. "Actually, I have no idea what to call you."

At that moment, a smooth, velvety male voice drifted across the hall.

There's a starman waiting in the sky
He'd like to come and meet us
But he thinks he'd blow our minds

"Do you know what this song is?" Erwin asked, watching Ackerman with genuine curiosity—or rather, the top of his head.

"No idea." Levi felt vaguely embarrassed by his own ignorance, but he truly hadn't the faintest clue whose voice was filling the hall.

"It's Bowie. An incredible musician." Smith spoke with a kind of enthusiasm Levi had only ever heard when the Commander was discussing military strategy. "He's singing about a man drifting somewhere among the stars, someone everyone dreams of meeting. The man himself would like nothing more than to meet the people of Earth, but he's afraid they won't understand him. The two of you have something in common."

The comparison made Ackerman's cheeks flush ever so slightly. He wanted to believe it was only the wine bringing warmth to his face and had no desire whatsoever to admit there might be something else behind the reaction.

"Why doesn't he just come down and meet them?" Levi asked, trying to sound merely curious, though a dozen other questions bled into his voice, chief among them: What the hell is happening?

"Characters like that rarely imagine themselves living among ordinary people. You see, he's the kind of lyrical hero who's destined to remain somewhere above everyone else, up there in the clouds. If he came down, maybe people really wouldn't know what to do with him." Erwin turned to face Ackerman, resting one shoulder against the wall. "To be honest, it took us a while to get used to you, too."

At that moment, Levi would've gladly traded places with the man in the song and disappeared somewhere up there among the stars, where the Commander's icy blue eyes weren't searching him for something extraordinary. Ackerman had always been convinced that swinging a pair of blades was the only thing he knew how to do, and if there was anything else, he doubted he'd ever find out.

The record changed once again.

You're just too good to be true
Can't take my eyes off of you

Erwin kept taking one sip after another without ever looking away from Levi. It was as though he was about to tell him something important—assign him a new squad, perhaps, or ask him to inspect the stables. Anything at all, so long as Ackerman stopped thinking about that gaze: heavy enough to pin him in place, yet somehow impossible not to lean toward.

A moment later, a young woman—Marie, if Levi remembered correctly—appeared at the Commander's side, slipping her arm through his and trying to coax him back onto the dance floor. Erwin was utterly incapable of refusing. Still smiling, he turned to look at her, but something in his eyes had changed. The spark that had been there only a second ago—the very same one Levi found so unsettling—had suddenly gone out.

"Jump in the line, Captain Levi!" Marie called with a grin, leaving Ackerman no time to wonder what line she was talking about.

"I'll be back!" was all Smith managed before she pulled him toward the crowd. Levi bit the inside of his lip. He knew he'd never inspire that kind of enthusiasm—not among the cadets, not among his fellow officers. Not that he actually needed it. It was simple human curiosity, really: could he ever become someone worth noticing? Tightening his grip around the empty glass, Ackerman realized he had no desire to be interesting to everyone. Just to one particular person.

A warm, velvety voice drifted through the hall as Levi finally tossed the unfortunate glass aside and decided to make another round of the room. He hadn't forgotten that he was still supposed to be working. To his surprise, things weren't nearly as disastrous as he'd expected. True, there were couples tangled together in more than one corner, but he decided to overlook those. No signs of alcohol poisoning. No one smoking indoors. A quiet sense of satisfaction settled somewhere inside him. Maybe all those attempts to turn the soldiers into disciplined human beings hadn't been completely wasted after all.

He didn't get to observe them for long.

Someone suddenly grabbed him by both shoulders and dragged him away before he had the chance to react. The next thing Levi knew, he was standing in the middle of a circle of laughing cadets, with Erwin somehow among them. Hand in hand, they spun around Ackerman, throwing cheerful glances his way as they laughed. Levi instinctively tensed, shoulders rising as he looked around in bewilderment.

Apparently, his shift was over.

"Oh, come on, Captain! At least smile!" one of the girls shouted over the music, and everyone burst into laughter.

The only person who didn't seem to find it funny was Ackerman.

Breaking away from the circle, Sasha—the girl with the long, tightly tied dark ponytail—caught Levi by both hands. There was no elegance in her movements, no patience, only an irrepressible determination to enjoy every second of the evening. And, to his own astonishment, the captain gave in. Before he quite understood what he was doing, he found himself shifting his weight from one foot to the other in an awkward attempt to catch the rhythm, gently swaying his head from side to side. Strands of hair kept falling into his face, obscuring his vision, his jacket felt unbearably restrictive, yet some strange, inexplicable lightness swept through him all the same, and for once he couldn't bring himself to resist it.

"So," Sasha said with a bright grin, looking around in search of her next victim, "who wants the next dance with the Captain?"

For a few seconds, no one answered. Then a familiar voice spoke from somewhere behind him.

"Let me handle that."

Levi suddenly found his hands enclosed in someone else's warm palms—large, rough hands that seemed utterly unfamiliar with gentleness. And yet the touch itself was unexpectedly soft, so careful that Ackerman relaxed almost at once. When he finally looked up, his eyes met Erwin's. The Commander, who'd been dancing with everyone only moments ago, had somehow become slow and unhurried, doing little more than swaying gently from side to side.

You'd be like Heaven to touch
I wanna hold you so much

Levi lost all sense of time and never even tried to keep track of how long they remained like that—calling it dancing would have been an exaggeration. It almost seemed as though the music itself had grown quieter, as if no one wanted to disturb the moment. Of course, it only felt that way. In reality, the chatter around them never ceased; if anything, it grew louder. Then Erwin shifted his grip on Levi's hands, and when the entire hall joined in singing the chorus, Smith all but coaxed the captain into moving a little faster. A hesitant smile flickered across Ackerman's face, shy enough to seem borrowed, as though someone had gently forced him to reveal a piece of himself he'd spent years hiding, to remember what it felt like not to live encased in armor.

And that someone was the Commander.

And they called it puppy love
Oh, I guess they'll never know
How a young heart how it really feels

When the song came to an end, Erwin abruptly stepped back, as though for a few brief minutes he'd forgotten who they were to each other. He smoothed down his tousled blond hair, made a half-hearted attempt to straighten the rolled-up sleeves of his shirt, and gave up almost immediately. All at once, Levi's hands felt strangely cold.

"Don't tease my captain too much," Smith said, resting a hand on Ackerman's shoulder and gently steering him toward the side. "Or I'll never get him back."

Levi wanted to object, to stop walking, but for some reason his feet obediently carried him wherever Erwin guided them. A moment later they stepped out onto the smallest of the three balconies, which, despite its size, still offered more than enough space. The instant the tall doors swung open, a startled feminine gasp sounded from somewhere beyond them, as though someone had just been caught in the act.

"I think we interrupted something rather personal," Erwin murmured almost directly into Levi's ear, warm breath ghosting across the side of his neck.

A pair of slightly flushed cadets stood frozen in front of them.

"Have a good evening, sir!" the young man called, grabbing his companion's hand before hurriedly disappearing back into the hall. The Commander and his captain were left alone on the balcony—a situation neither of them was particularly unfamiliar with after so many battles fought side by side.

Without waiting for Erwin to suggest anything, Levi walked over to the wide stone railing and rested his elbows against it. Below, the crowns of several large trees stretched into the darkness, their leaves rustling softly in the night breeze. The only light outside came from a handful of scattered streetlamps that would soon be extinguished. A cool wind drifted in from the north, and Levi instinctively hunched his shoulders deeper into his jacket, feeling the fresh air weave through his hair. This should have been the perfect moment to finally relax, to allow himself to feel just a little freer than usual, yet something inside Ackerman refused to let his guard down.

"You're not cold?" Erwin's voice sounded low, carrying an unmistakable note of concern that seemed to have surfaced out of nowhere. Or perhaps it had always been there, and Levi had simply chosen not to notice.

"Says the man standing out here in nothing but a shirt. Your back's still soaked," Ackerman muttered under his breath, as though hoping the concern in his own voice would go unnoticed. He knew it had always been there too. He was simply very good at hiding it.

Erwin threw his head back and laughed. Out here, wrapped in the quiet of the evening, the sound seemed almost startlingly loud. The heavy balcony door muffled the music from inside, making it obvious that birds had been nesting in the trees all along. Startled by the sudden laughter, two of them burst from the branches and disappeared into the dark sky.

"Levi, I don't think a little wind is going to be the end of me. I've survived worse than this." Smith leaned against the railing until their shoulders met once again. Ackerman could feel the warmth radiating from his body, lingering from the dancing and the crowded hall. "But if you're worried, wait here for a minute."

The captain remained alone on the balcony.

Tilting his head back, Levi noticed snow beginning to fall from the night sky—almost weightless flakes that melted the instant they touched his skin. He held out one hand, palm upward, and felt the faintest prickling sensation as the tiny crystals landed there one after another. He wasn't cold. Levi was convinced that neither blizzards nor winter itself could get the better of him, let alone a snowfall so delicate it was almost impossible to see.

Behind him, the music grew louder as the balcony door creaked open. The voices from inside blurred together beneath the melody, the words nearly impossible to make out, but Ackerman still managed to catch a few of them.

Two in love can make it
Take my heart and please don't break it
Love was made for me and you

The next moment, something settled across his back, and warmth pressed against his shoulder once again. Erwin had returned carrying his suit jacket, draping it over both of them before stepping even closer. Though Levi would've sworn there was no possible way for them to stand any nearer than they already were.

"Now we definitely won't freeze," Smith said with a smile, his face close enough for Levi to make out every fine line etched into it. Then again, he already knew them all by heart. He'd watched Erwin bent over maps late into the night, watched him scanning the horizon for the silhouettes of titans, watched him sitting beside campfires while the flames painted shifting patterns across the Commander's face.

Had they ever been this close before?

Levi couldn't remember a single expedition where they'd slept back to back or shared the same horse. Physical closeness had never been what held them together. He understood the Commander after only half a sentence, was always the first to charge into battle, and never failed to know the exact moment Erwin needed covering. Long ago, he'd stopped living by the rule that said the squad came first and everyone else second. There was no everyone else anymore. There was only Smith, whose bright head—in every sense of the word—Levi searched for amid the chaos of every battlefield, always ready to reach him if the need arose.

"Levi, you know I'm usually a very rational man. Sometimes too rational." Erwin's voice, barely more than a murmur at such close range, pulled Ackerman from his thoughts. A shiver raced down Levi's spine despite the fact that he wasn't cold. That familiar devilish spark had returned to Smith's eyes—the very one that had kept him on edge all week. "Maybe I'm about to do something incredibly foolish. But commanders are allowed to make mistakes too, aren't they?"

A heartbeat later, Levi was enveloped by warmth again, though this warmth was entirely different—insistent, burning, unlike anything he had ever known. He knew the heat of blood coating his hands, remembered the scorching steam rising from titans, had long since grown accustomed to the searing touch of fire. This, however, belonged to an entirely unfamiliar world. His lips suddenly flared with a heat stronger than even the finest liquor could produce. Erwin truly had acted without reason, without logic, without thinking it through—and somehow it felt as though this was exactly the choice they had both been waiting for. Smith's lips rested against Levi's, and Ackerman could feel the faint tremor of the Commander's eyelashes.

The first instinct that surged through him was to shove Erwin away, to run, to disappear back into the crowd, yet of everything his body urged him to do, the only thing Levi managed was pressing one hand weakly against the Commander's chest. Almost immediately, Erwin covered it with his own. His palm was nearly hot enough to burn. Ackerman couldn't explain why he was allowing any of this to happen, or why he found himself utterly incapable of pulling away. Neither of them could have said how long they remained standing there, barely moving, listening to the sound of each other's breathing. Smith seemed unwilling to be the first to step back, unwilling to let the moment come to an end.

But eventually, he did.

"I made a foolish mistake, didn't I?" A flush spread across Erwin's cheeks. Levi had never seen him like that before. He was used to observing that pale face from a distance. Now, though, he could make out the tiny mole high on the sharp line of Erwin's cheekbone and feel the roughness of the stubble along his jaw, as though Smith had deliberately skipped shaving for the past couple of days.

"An absolutely monumental one," Levi replied. Under any other circumstances, anyone bold enough to touch him would've ended up flipped clean over the balcony railing, crashing through the branches of the trees below. Instead, he found himself staring wordlessly into Erwin's blue eyes. The mischievous spark was gone now, replaced by the same warmth that lived in everything about him—in the tips of his fingers, in the rumble of his laughter, somewhere deep inside the man himself. "Wanna do it again?"

Disbelief flickered across Smith's face, tangled together with unmistakable relief. He'd been prepared for anything: a punch to the ribs, a well-placed kick, a cutting remark sharp enough to leave a scar. None of it came. To both their surprise, Levi appeared perfectly calm. Even Erwin couldn't have guessed at the storm raging beneath that stillness, held back only because Ackerman refused to let it spill over and frighten either of them. Smith hesitated for just a fraction too long before the front of his shirt was suddenly caught in Levi's fist and tugged forward.

Ackerman could hardly believe himself. He'd never imagined that the feelings he'd spent so long trying—and failing—to untangle might actually be returned. Only now did they finally seem to settle into something he could name, something that made sense at last. He wasn't sure he'd ever be able to say the words aloud. Instead, Levi pulled Erwin closer, threading one hand into his hair before kissing him again, this time with enough certainty to leave no room for misunderstanding. Smith kept one hand on the jacket draped around their shoulders, as though shielding them from the rest of the world, smiling into the kiss in a way that sent another shiver racing down Ackerman's spine.

The noise from inside the hall interrupted them, loud enough to carry even through the closed doors. Levi tensed immediately.

What if someone had seen?

There would be no escaping the whispers or the sideways glances after that.

But the door never opened. And although Erwin finally took a reluctant step back, his hand was still wrapped around Levi's.

"Looks like Hange kept her promise after all," Smith said with a quiet smile, glancing toward the door and the stained-glass windows, behind which nothing could be seen except the silhouettes of the cadets. Most of them had paired off.

It was time for a slow dance.

Without a moment's hesitation, Erwin let the jacket slide onto the railing, adjusted his grip on Levi's hand, and rested the other gently against his waist, narrow enough to seem almost delicate. Time itself seemed to stop. The captain had long since forgotten the duty he'd been assigned for the evening, and Smith no longer spared a single thought for the possibility that someone might catch them together. Instead, the Commander guided Ackerman into the dance with quiet confidence. Levi rested his cheek against Erwin's chest, listening to the slightly uneven beat of his heart and feeling that familiar warmth all over again.

"Levi, I wanted to—" Smith began, sounding strangely uncertain, as though every trace of the Commander's usual resolve had deserted him.

"Don't," Ackerman interrupted gently, without the slightest hint of irritation. "Please. Don't say anything."

"I just wanted to tell you," Erwin's smile softened. "for one evening, you really did become an ordinary man."

Then afterwards we drop into a quiet little place
And have a drink or two
And then I go and spoil it all
By saying somethin' stupid like, "I love you"