A/N: Urm. Wow this chapter went long. Warning in advance for copious amounts of dialogue (But plenty of it comes from LeviMika teatime tension so HOPEFULLY THAT IS OKAY).
Summary: His gaze curiously pursued every delicate movement of her dance, his mind ignoring its usual alertness as to whatever dangerous intentions she might possess. Levi/Mikasa. Dystopian Mafia AU.
Chapter II
“Did I really have to resort to fake tears to get me out of my own predicament?”
Just two blocks from the teahouse, within the confines of a secure building that also served as provisional mission control for Squad 104 - the government organization Mikasa served - passerby dodged left and right or yelped in surprise as the raven-haired young woman flanked Armin in haste through the narrow hallways. Her impatient voice resonated even through the thickest of walls as they progressed step by step, each syllable more vocal than the next.
Moments ago, she had dressed herself in civilian clothing and slipped away from her room, temporarily escaping via a secret passage prepared by Ymir that traversed the teahouse’s back gardens. As she had pushed aside the branches and stems that slowed her progress, she took note of the overcast sky. Due to pollution and incessant warfare, the disheartening grayness lingering far above had not improved in a decade, as if it was still mourning the day Mikasa’s own life had been overturned. But at least, I can still remember what those shades of blue in the afternoon and the pulsating reds and yellows during dusk look like. The children born these last ten years, however…She had sighed at the thought.
Now, with the smoky atmosphere concealed by the just as monotonous ceilings of the indoors, she chased her blonde handler from one makeshift office to the next, demanding answers that she knew probably did not exist.
“I’m sorry, Mikasa.” Armin pushed up his glasses and fumbled with whatever he was carrying, doing his best to not drop anything as he rushed towards his next destination. With each quick step, the silver shield emblem of Squad 104 - a rather pompous and dated symbol of the group - reflected various angles of light from where it was clipped beneath his name tag. “We didn’t put surveillance in your room so you could at least have some privacy, but we completely missed the fact that Levi headed in your direction again so soon after he left.”
Before long, they reached Armin’s own office, where he kicked the door shut behind them and closed the rest of the world off to Mikasa’s rants. With the end of a pen dangling between his teeth, he thumbed through the stacks of papers documenting The Legion’s misconducts and placed them in separate piles upon his wooden desk. She had seen them all before, each page detailing crimes more harrowing than the last: extortion, kidnapping, torture, murder; all involving prominent political figures that her and her comrades were obligated to protect. Murder. She felt her blood boil at the mere thought of the offense, even if she attempted to suppress the recollections that constantly threatened to push her over the edge.
“Then who was the one who did not pay close enough attention to Levi’s whereabouts?” She folded her arms and dropped down upon one of Armin’s unremarkable chairs.
Out of the corner of her eye, Mikasa caught the paling face of Connie Springer in an adjacent glass-encased booth, his headset in tow as he stared at her from his position in front of six different surveillance monitors that displayed different areas of the teahouse. At the sound of her exasperated inquiry, he removed the headset at lightning speed and exited his area, arms frozen at his sides as he stood at attention.
“I was monitoring the hallway cameras last night.” The bald young man confessed, a sheen already forming on his forehead from the layer of sweat that emerged. “I take full responsibility for my error and for endangering you, special agent Ackerman!”
She sighed. It was hard to fault Connie, who was considered a novice but still possessed a flawless record of surveillance, including crucial contributions during several of Mikasa’s own recent operations. “At ease, Connie. Forget about it.”
Connie bowed deeply in regret and returned to his seat to stare at the screens, while Armin, now finished with his work, shook his head with a smile at the scene.
“It worries me, Armin. The fact that he caught all of us off-guard so effortlessly.” Mikasa brought a hand up to her chin in contemplation, having calmed down from her previous frustrations. “You don’t think Levi already knows that they’re all being watched…?”
“I cannot say for sure, but it’s certainly within the realm of possibility.” Armin gripped his palms against the edge of his desk as he leaned upon it for balance. “But outside of the main tearoom, we only bugged their individual quarters for audio which is much harder to detect. And Ymir already explained to them that the hallway cameras are there for the teahouse’s own security. We both know how solid her reputation as owner has been with all the underground gangs - that’s why she now becomes our most useful ally.”
She nodded in agreement. Indeed, they had found the perfect collaborator in the tan-skinned young woman. Not only did she provide the early tip that The Legion’s key members would be spending ample time at the teahouse, but it was also she who unexpectedly had a full set of gorgeous kimonos, including the scarlet one used during her dance, in storage. This allowed Mikasa to play a more comprehensive role in the plan than mere assassin, and the extra time created more opportunity to gather valuable intel before the final blow. Ymir, on the other hand, received a guarantee of lifetime government protection – and probably enormous funds, Mikasa mused – in return.
“And just so you know, Jean was also moving in on your position and ready to help had Levi gone any further with your sword.” Armin continued with his reassurances. “We have many agents here who can back you up, remember that. Director Hannes made sure of the fact.”
“Thanks, but you’re all forgetting that I’m not actually a damsel in distress.” And I never plan to be. “The less people we put in danger for this mission, the better.”
“After last night, do you still think you can take him on when the time comes, Mikasa?”
“Who? Levi?” She brushed off the doubts that had surfaced so haphazardly the previous night and spoke with confidence. “Absolutely. He is intimidating, but I’m confident that our combat skills are on at least on equal ground.”
Armin frowned. “Equal ground’ isn’t exactly comforting. We never want you to go overboard or struggle just to survive, you know.”
“I don’t necessarily have to kill Levi, Armin.” Mikasa unfolded her arms and stood up, walking closer before placing both hands on her comrade’s shoulders. She knew that as usual, he was worried about her, both on an occupational level and as a long-time friend. “You know very well that my personal vendetta is solely against Erwin. It’s just happenstance that he is also who we have to eliminate in order to cause a serious standstill in their upcoming operations.”
“I just worry that you won’t able to get to Erwin without completely overcoming Levi…”
“As long as Mr. Second-in-Command considers me harmless long enough, our plan will throw him off-course and I will succeed.” She cut off Armin’s thoughts before he meandered into more pessimistic territory. “The fact that he softened to my distraught act last night is actually a great sign. Trust me when I say that I will take advantage of that development.”
The spectacled young man nodded and placed one palm over her right hand, his aquamarine eyes now glowing with more certainty. Their moment of reverie, however, was soon interrupted by Connie’s frenzied dash out of his booth.
“Sir, agent Ackerman! Come listen to this!”
—
As soon as Mikasa placed the transmitter Connie handed her next to her ear, Erwin’s velvety voice echoed.
“You acted rather unusual last night, Levi.”
At the sound of his composed speech and the name, she felt both of her fists clench. Next to her, Armin’s eyes were fully alert as he listened via another headset.
“I was testing out a suspicion.” As expected, Levi’s response seemed unconcerned at best compared to their own reactions. “Did you know that dancer hid a weapon in her kimono sleeve?”
“Oh?”
“She claimed it was for her protection since she has had rather…colorful encounters with past customers.”
“And? Did you believe her?”
Mikasa could not bear witness to the scene, but she easily visualized Erwin’s amused smirk by his tone alone.
“All I know is that she convincingly teared up when I threatened her.” Again, Levi answered rather impassively, which made Mikasa’s fists clench even further. Her nails dug harsh crevices into her skin as she recalled the bewildering feeling of being trapped beneath him the previous night.
“I thought you disliked making women cry.”
“Children, Erwin. I hate seeing children cry because it’s always a snotty mess. And if I sense genuine threat from a capable woman, you know I wouldn’t hold back.” Levi seemed to be pacing back and forth as he spoke, since faint sounds of sole scratching wood followed each of his words. “She had a hazardous aura, but for once I couldn’t put my finger on whether it was my imagination or not.”
This time, Erwin actually chuckled. “Why don’t you request to spend some more alone time with her, then? Do an informal interrogation that way, for our benefit.”
“Are you serious?” The shorter man’s brisk footsteps immediately halted at the suggestion, while his tone became noticeably incredulous.
“If she is playing a role, then you know you must as well.” Erwin returned to a sterner attitude as he analyzed the situation. “It will be a different kind of combat than you are used to. But I always think it’s more interesting when a beautiful young woman is involved.”
“Her beauty is not fucking ‘interesting,’ Erwin.” Levi’s tone took a sudden, biting turn. “It’s what complicates the situation thousandfold. It’s the reason we have to be more cautious of her, and of this entire place.”
If his subordinate’s warning disturbed Erwin in the least, he failed to showcase any vulnerability. “Then do what you must to decode her, Levi. If she is indeed a threat to us on any level, then you already know what the solution is.”
At her archenemy’s inference, Mikasa felt the temperature in her bloodstream drop several degrees, but she still registered Levi’s grunt of understanding and the faint sound of Erwin’s panel door sliding shut against its frame. She removed the headset and dropped it carelessly upon Connie’s desk, causing the seated young man to glance up towards her with somewhat fearful eyes before returning to his fervent typing.
“Well, that conversation seemed very genuine throughout.” Ever the practical one, Armin did not take complete notice of Mikasa’s reaction, choosing instead to focus on the computer’s output data. “Even if they knew we might be listening, the speech analyzer indicates that they were definitely not putting on a show.”
“What are you going to do, Mikasa? That threat at the end…” Connie spoke his concern as he paused his fingers.
“I will diffuse Levi’s suspicions first and foremost, of course.” She leaned against the glass of the surveillance booth and rubbed her arms, allowing sufficient time for her body to return to its usual warmth again.
“With what? Your ‘beauty?” Armin raised an eyebrow as he finally took his eyes off of the endless sheets of paper.
Mikasa rolled her eyes at the tease. “Whatever I must do.”
“I’m just saying. If it’s something you can use to your advantage to protect yourself…you’ve certainly done it before, even though you know I always discouraged it.”
Some of her more distinct memories surfaced at Armin’s words, the haunting sensations of bare skin against bare skin, of gasps against grunts, of whispered phrases of lust all emerging as completely foreign yet completely familiar. She recalled that she always remained barely responsive throughout each of her previous encounters, with her conscience registering the acts as necessities to survive and succeed - nothing more. Too often did the subjects of her rendezvous transform into the objects of her violence, and the bloodstains upon her hands always glowed a brilliant crimson even in the darkest of rooms.
“Let’s not bring up past missions, Armin.” Mikasa shook her head a few times with vigor, casting the unpleasant thoughts afar. “You still haven’t bugged my room, right?”
“Not yet.”
“Good. Keep it that way for now.” She demanded. “I’ll be much more relaxed if I know no one else is listening in on our every word.”
“You’re positive? I must remind you that Erwin’s final words were quite —”
“Yes. I am. That bastard does not frighten me.” She made sure that her words bore finality. “And don’t have anyone posted close by. I can handle it.”
Armin walked up to her gradually, his expression full of his usual concern. “Please, Mikasa. I know what you think you must do to finally earn solace, just promise me you won’t endanger yourself by going beyond what is secure and sensible.”
She smiled, allowing the corners of her lips turn upward for the first time in hours. “Armin, I can promise you that nothing is going to happen tonight. But there are still several more evenings to come, and you know very well that it’s already too late for that warning.”
In order to succeed, I would have to go beyond.
And I must succeed.
—
Cloaked in the dimming light of an expiring bulb, Mikasa gently adjusted the violet hair comb attached to the side of her head, being mindful to not tangle any strands and cause disarray to her intricately coiffed bun. Ever since she began to struggle on her own, she was never one to dress up or even style her hair beyond a loose ponytail, but somehow this role of teahouse companion for the past two days had already ascribed her to habits she never possessed. The scrupulous yet comforting process of putting on one of Ymir’s kimonos consistently aroused memories of her former family, of her mother’s compassionate words that had inspired beautiful visions of an impossible future. Now, being enclosed within infinite folds of fabric partially filled that stifling void, but in the mirror, she noted that her onyx eyes remained as hollow as the day that future was lost.
She stood up and turned towards her door, refusing to see her own ominous reflection for even a second longer. Instead, she dwelled upon how the maroon kimono framed her figure like an embrace and waited with conviction for her intended guest. Just as she had overheard earlier in the day, Levi had requested some time with her alone through Ymir. This time, she was ready to duel with at least verbal wit, and there was no holding her down physically or mentally tonight.
A short moment later, the scraping of wood against wood sounded as Levi revealed himself behind the panel. He was evidently unprepared for her immediate presence, since his eyes gleamed surprise and his foot actually stepped back to counter the minor imbalance in his posture. Despite the gaffe, his signature cravat was still as spotless as ever, and the round silver buttons upon his charcoal blazer were polished to a fault.
“Ymir told me that you would be visiting.” She linked her fingers and bowed, pretending to not even notice his uncharacteristic reactions.
“And this time my visit is announced.” He stated as he regained full composure. “Do accept apologies for my behavior last night, Mikasa.”
She nodded with false serenity as she extended an arm towards the rosewood table placed by the window. Levi obliged the invitation without comment as he stepped over, eventually folding his legs in a proper kneel next to the decorated edge. With propriety, he then straightened his back before bringing one of the porcelain tea cups closer to himself. Right after, Mikasa mimicked his actions, all the while sensing his eyes scrutinizing her every move, as if already trying to catch her off-guard.
“You were just doing your job.” Ignoring his inspection, she grasped the handle of the teapot before raising the spout above his cup and pouring fragrant liquid within. “But the rumors seem to be true – you are quite menacing. It’s no wonder you are so feared both within and outside of your circle, Sir Levi.”
As the contents neared two-thirds full, he raised a hand to halt her. “Calling me Levi is just fine. And is that so? What exactly have you heard about me and my syndicate?”
Here comes the interrogation. “I only know that The Legion is a very powerful organization, even more so than any official police authorities.” Mikasa stated matter-of-factly as she filled her own cup. “And that all of your hands are…not exactly clean.”
Without looking at her companion, she began to consume the resident drink for the first time since she arrived. The combination of the scorching heat and the incredibly bitter taste that assaulted her tongue almost caused her to choke, but her throat forced swallows that also concealed her disgust. With such appalling conditions in existence outside, even the best tea leaves apparently left much to be desired. Who in their right mind would enjoy this? She thought dreadfully.
Across from her, Levi also began to sip his tea whilst showing absolutely no signs of revulsion, as if he was immune to any hint of foul aroma or flavor. His immaculate posture did not flinch no matter the size of his gulp, but Mikasa could tell that he was in deep thought, seemingly digesting her perception of his syndicate instead of focusing on his drink.
“Are you afraid of us being here, then?” He finally put down the cup and spoke, his beady eyes now fixated on hers.
“No, I don’t think we will be affected.” She returned his gaze with just as much vigor, unwilling to yield a single sign of weakness. “We have entertained people with far worse reputations.”
“Are you afraid of me?”
I don’t know how to answer that question. “No.” Mikasa stated monotonously despite her inner uncertainty.
She sensed his eyes narrowing, as if analyzing the sincerity of her answer. The moment ended as quickly as it had arrived, however, and Levi reached out for the teapot once more. This time, he took the liberty of pouring her another cup before himself. The gurgling sound of the descending liquid was a rather awkward disruption to the uncomfortable silence, and Mikasa grumbled inwardly as she surrendered to the notion of a second serving.
“Even though you nearly cried last night, you do not seem like someone easily frightened.” Levi finally spoke again as he moved onto filling his own cup. “Am I wrong?”
“I have witnessed much since I was a child.” She confessed without elaboration. “So no, I usually don’t become unsettled the way I did. But wouldn’t you be scared if you were shoved against the wall with a blade against your throat?”
At the sudden aggression in her voice he looked up, this time with both eyebrows arching more severely than before. But despite the surprise, his sharp response was instant.
“Depends on the size of the blade.”
The corners of Mikasa’s mouth twitched and turned slightly upward. To her dismay, she found that she could not control her amusement. Damn, he is good.
His next question, however, brought her mood back to the abyss.
“Where are your parents, Mikasa?”
“They died a long time ago.” It was nearly impossible to suppress the disdain in her voice, but she somehow managed to transform it into a semblance of sadness. “I don’t even know their names…that’s why I have no surname. I was brought up in foster homes.”
Mommy! Daddy! Mikasa felt her 9-year-old self’s scream ricochet across her neurons, where it was closely followed by throbbing sensations that she almost winced at. As she expected, her own memories did not hesitate to punish her for the ghastly lie.
Focus, Mikasa.
“One of your parents must have been one of the last Easterners, then. But how did you learn Japanese traditional dance if you didn’t know either of them?” Whether Levi noticed her weakness was suddenly a futile concern, as he appeared to dissect her story faster than she could tell it.
“It was my 3rd foster mother. She was a great aficionado of the lost Asian arts and insisted that I retain some skills…to pass it on, I guess.” She conjured up another quick lie at a moment’s notice. “One could argue that it is all going to waste right now.”
“I see.” He murmured before taking an extended sip.
Mikasa’s thoughts were now enduring the same disarray she had controlled so meticulously for her hair. The confidence she held earlier in the evening was still intact, but she knew that she was losing command of the situation. Her mind sprinted with effort as it attempted to gain supremacy, and when it finally hinged onto the right wavelength, she summoned two simple words.
“My turn.”
“Huh?”
“It’s my turn to ask questions.” She spoke with unrelenting authority.
Levi sighed, his eyes almost rolling. “Didn’t I advise you last night to focus less on those around you?”
“From the way our conversation has gone so far, I could say the same for you, Levi.”
The older man’s eyes darkened with both suspicion and interest, as if impressed by her comeback.
“Fine.” He set his cup aside and folded his arms, creasing the silk fabric of his blazer in nearly the same way he wrinkled his forehead. “Just don’t expect me to be as forthcoming as you have been.”
We will see about that.
“Give me your hand.” Pushing the cloth of her long sleeve aside, Mikasa extended an arm across the table, motioning with curled fingers for his limb to join hers atop the wooden surface.
“What are you—” He almost leaned back at her unexpected invitation.
“I said that I knew that you and your comrades’ hands were unclean.” She smirked and stretched her arm further towards him. “I just want to see for myself, because like I said - I’m actually not afraid.”
To her surprise, his irises suddenly gleamed with some sort of fleeting emotion, while the dark shadows underneath his eyes appeared to brighten before quickly returning to their gloomy hue. Reluctantly, he released his left hand from its guarded spot, straightening each finger as he lowered his palm against hers. Almost instantly, she felt the rough bumps of his callouses again, but before she relished the moment for too long, she flipped his hand over and began to visually examine each indent.
“My foster mother said that palm reading was always a popular practice in Japan, so she taught me this as well.” She muttered, remembering to not disclose anything about her biological mother, who was the actual teacher of this underused skill of hers. Soon, Mikasa’s other hand joined in the foray, and she began to trace some of his lines with two soft fingertips – all while feigning ignorance at his faint shudders from her touch.
“All of your fortune lines confirm that you have been through a lot yourself, Levi.” She kept her voice low and mysterious, knowing that she was lowering his guard more and more.
When the time finally became ripe, she took advantage.
“So where are your parents?” Mikasa halted her movements and stared straight into his eyes, which had become somewhat cloudy since she last saw them minutes ago.
“Dead.”
Even she was surprised at how prompt and direct Levi’s response was compared to his previous aloofness. But she still regarded him with silence, alluding for him to elaborate.
“I was orphaned from a young age as well.” He watched her, divulging details like he was now hypnotized beyond his control. “But perhaps it was for the best. Are there any happy childhoods with the world as it is now, anyway?”
In his tone was an irreparable cynicism that was far too close to her own.
“Indeed there are so few.” She felt her hand fan out on its own before almost gripping his. “The world is cruel.”
They remained in that position for a short while, unperturbed by any distraction around them. Within the ongoing connection of their eyes lingered a force Mikasa could not determine the nature of. Is this hurt? Is this distress? Or is it… She feared to think any further, but to her relief his continuance successfully stalled her thoughts.
“Erwin took me under his wing after I wandered as a young thug for years.”
So that bastard has a heart, after all.
She loosened her grip before continuing the interrogation, ensuring that she aimed at his critical points despite the guilt that began to bubble within her. “And? How many have you killed since you joined him?”
“I don’t make it a habit to count.” He placed his other elbow on the table, raising a few fingers to his lips in contemplation as he continued to watch her. “But I only kill when necessary.”
“What, to you, is ‘necessary,’ then? Is it whenever Erwin gives you an order?”
“Whenever someone stands in our way.” Levi’s voice was assertive, but with each word he now appeared to be convincing himself instead of her. “We don’t claim to be vigilantes. We are the mafia, and we thrive on fear and extreme strokes of action.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Your self-proclaimed identity does not excuse you from anything.”
At her bitter statement, Levi lowered his head towards hers, now attempting a similar intimidation as the night before. “Let me be clear on one thing, Mikasa: the government is far more corrupt than us. These so-called politicians have starved the people and mutilated their livelihoods beyond repair.” He punctuated each word as if reciting a memorized chant. “We keep them in a state of panic – and in check.”
With that, Levi removed his hand from hers abruptly, returning to hold his teacup with an even firmer grip. The sudden breeze that traveled through her now-empty hands seemed to testify as to how taciturn both of their souls had become. She breathed with slight difficulty, struggling between her growing comprehension of his perspective and her persistent fury at how she had been a poster victim of such views.
In the end, she could only ask one thing.
“Then how are you any different as you sit here, leisurely drinking fine tea while the world continues to self-destruct not far beyond these walls?”
Levi raised his cup again and downed its remaining contents with one breath, stretching his neck so high that she could decipher the beating pulse on his throat. Once finished, he stared at the visible porcelain bottom with vacant eyes.
“The difference, Mikasa, is that I actually find this tea repulsive.”
She felt her expression freeze, almost stunned by the reality of it all. The truth was that she always turned a blind eye to the agendas of the government or the specific doings of the political figures she was indebted towards. Each previous mission objective came and went like a silent visitor that Mikasa never perceived, since her own furious eyes had constantly been clouded by that head of perfectly combed golden hair, with its countless ends all stained in crimson blood. Her ambition for the past eleven years had been for one goal and one goal only, and it had taken Mikasa’s entire willpower the past two days to not simply walk those thirty meters of corridor and suffocate Erwin in his sleep.
“I feel the same, Levi.” She scoffed at her own wretched existence. “About this tea.” And about this life. She reached for her cup with one hand, noting that the greenish liquid had somehow became as gray as the skies.
He grunted. “And this is already the best in all these lands.”
Even though she had already learned from the agency profile most of what he had divulged to her, it was not until Levi’s frank statements sank in that Mikasa recognized how similar they actually were; how he was indisputably – and terrifyingly - her equal in strength and intellect, even more so than any of her own colleagues. If that is the case, then he will never surrender until his heart stops beating. The familiar chill from earlier in the day voyaged down Mikasa’s spine as she realized how wrong her own words had been – she might actually have to kill him to triumph, after all.
Triumph? For whom? For the government? For the squad? For myself? Her eyes remained trained on her sunken tea leaves and their flimsy swirling, as if they were struggling to float against all odds. She also vaguely recognized the irony that she was no longer putting up an act – in fact, she was being the most honest she had been in a long while.
“I’m glad we understand each other.” He abruptly stated, his voice as soft as it had been the entire night. “It’s rare to find someone who does.”
The words prompted Mikasa to look up again, and this time she was greeted with his profile, a defined façade enveloped in solemnity as Levi stared out the window at nothing in particular. Whatever pale moonlight actually shone through the polluted atmosphere cast an unusual silhouette upon him, marking boundaries against his features to create a painting both soft and sinister. Without warning, the brief sadness that flashed across his eyes struck a chord and forced her to suppress a soft gasp.
We’ve met before. Even prior to last night. The sudden familiarity startled her, but the feeling was quickly subdued by his hand reaching out to suddenly hold hers. With little resistance, he opened her palm for the same scrutiny she had given him, his gaze carefully observing what was now in his grasp.
Before long, however, Levi’s hand had departed hers, instead rising in elevation as his arms guided it towards her face. Their eyes met again, and two of his fingers – the same number that she had traced his palm with - ghosted across her cheek before pushing back the few strands of hair that had escaped from behind her ear. Ultimately, those two fingertips came to rest against her chin, where they gave it a most tender lift.
“What do you see for me, Levi?” She murmured the only words that came to her mind.
He sighed.
“Nothing. I see absolutely nothing.”
There it was. She supposed that she should feel relief or satisfaction that she could claim victory tonight, since he had failed to penetrate her masquerade. Yet Mikasa could only answer with a gaze full of honest pity and other indistinguishable emotions - a gaze that promised mutual understanding, just as much as it promised mutual destruction.
Before she even registered the loss of touch, Levi had retracted his hand. She could only stare forward as his figure stood up again, walking towards the door with rapid yet methodical steps before leaving her with only the moonlight as her companion.
“Good night, Mikasa.”
She would never be certain if he actually spoke the farewell.
Chapter II - End
Source: http://fuku-shuu.tumblr.com/post/66346590200/fukushuu-chapter-ii
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