Chapter Text
“Captain,” Shadis calls to her as she makes her approach. Plumes of dust kick up with every step she takes, clinging to her sticky skin and clothes. “The commander said you’d be dropping by.”
Mikasa rolls her eyes. “The commander says a lot of things.” She pauses beside Shadis, crosses her arms at her lower back, and surveys the group. Fifty pairs of gangly teens with either very lofty ambitions or no other choices, of whom the Survey Corps will see maybe three at best. “How’s this batch?” she asks quietly.
“Mixed bag, like every year,” he tells her, matching her tone. “But number one is head and shoulders above the others. Could probably stand in for a hundred soldiers beyond the Walls if he can learn to keep his fucking ego in check.”
“The commander mentioned.” She watches Cadet Ackerman swing out an elbow at another charging cadet, clipping his nose and spraying blood like a faucet. “Apparently I’m here for an exhibition match?”
“One that I’m very much looking forward to.” Shadis’ smile is borderline deranged. “He’s not some long-lost brother you’ve been hiding from us, is he?”
“Not unless my very much in love parents had some kind of dark second life neither of them ever thought to tell me about?”
“Can’t discount that, really,” Shadis says with a shrug. “But since there’s no love lost, do us all a favour and kick the fuck out of him, wouldn’t you?”
She snorts. “That good, is he?”
“And the little prick knows it, too.”
Shadis barks for the cadets to stop in a tone of voice that makes Mikasa straighten, too. The cadets all fall into neat lines and thump their fists over their hearts, eyes forward and at the ready. Only Cadet Ackerman, tucked at the rear of the pack, takes his time, his salute looser than the others and his gazed trained on a flock of birds overhead.
Shadis paces a line in front of them. “Step forward, Cadet Ackerman.”
Cadet Ackerman blinks in slow motion, dropping his lazy salute and sauntering though his parting peers slowly, deliberately, wearing his torn jacket like a badge of pride. His arms are crossed, and his bloodied lip is curled into a sneer as he takes her in, raking his gaze up and down her body. He snorts a laugh at the end, and he probably thinks he’s unnerving her, telling her that he knows things she doesn’t.
She strikes a kick to the middle of his chest and sends him flying.
Cadet Ackerman lets out an inhuman yell as he lands hard, drowning out the surprised murmur breaking out over the rest of his cohort. His cheeks burn red as the dirt as he springs back upright, swiping viciously at his mouth with the back of his hand. Mikasa watches impassively as he rips off his now halved jacket and stalks towards her, quirking a brow when he gets close enough that the toes of their boots touch, though the top of his head only reaches her nose.
His eyes are the same colour as storm clouds, one bruised and the other bright. Blood stains his bared teeth as he seethes at her, “Who the fuck are you?”
The air between them feels jagged, and Shadis sounds a million miles away when he chuckles and says, “Cadet Ackerman, allow me to introduce you to Captain Mikasa Ackerman of the Survey Corps.”
“Captain Ackerman?” It’s for the briefest, palest of seconds that a flash of intrigue enters his eyes, burning out like a match just as quick. He growls like a cornered animal and turns to spit a gob of blood at the ground. “Humanity’s strongest soldier, right? What the fuck is going on?”
“At ease, Cadet,” she says softly.
“Fucking Smith put you up to this?” He says the commander’s name like a curse, with so much vitriol that she almost flinches. She glances at the railing above them, where the commander still watches them from the balcony, expressionless as always.
“Captain Ackerman is an opponent who not only matches you, but exceeds you,” Shadis says from over Cadet Ackerman’s shoulder. “An opponent who can actually fight back.”
“That what this is? Some kind of prize fight?” He spits again, settles into a solid offensive stance, though it’s not one she can attribute to the military trainers. “Tch. And here you all are pretending you’re better than everyone in The Underground.”
He lashes out like a snake, as quick as lightning but infinitely more predictable. Mikasa steps off to the side and circles him, scrutinising his movements in between deflecting each one like they’re performing a waltz. She knows without taking one of his hits that he’s her equal in brute strength, but nothing else. She sees this in the way his fists fly towards her in the same direction he steps; how he searches for parts of her that seem unprotected and blatantly locks onto the target; his sloppy stance and his seeming indifference to defend himself in any real way. Hits that work in The Underground, on thugs and criminals that learned to fight between themselves on the streets where Cadet Ackerman seems to have reigned supreme.
“You’re too obvious,” she says, sidestepping him again. “Every part of your body tells me where you’re going, what you’re doing.”
He bares his bloodied teeth again in a mockery of a grin. “Does it?”
She grunts as he lands a hit across the left side of her ribs, knocking the air from her lungs. It’s a quick recovery, though, one she’s needed to fall back on countless times.
“Will you be joining this fight anytime soon?” he goads her, a swell of premature victory flushing over his face. “Or was that kick just a fluke?”
“You know it wasn’t.” She catches a fist and twists his arm, uses his momentum to send him crashing to the ground. His cohort barely make a sound; how many of them had fought him and soundly lost? “You’re like me.”
He growls as he stands, swings out again. “The fuck I am, military dog.”
“I know you probably have questions about who you are, what it means. I have answers. Some, anyway.”
“None of it fucking matters.”
“Of course it does.” She spins around him and lands a sharp kick to the back of his leg, bringing him to a kneel. Another quick kick to the centre of his chest and he’s sprawling over the ground again. “I didn’t know there were any Ackermans left.”
He wheezes a laugh as he staggers back to his feet, settles into a stance even sloppier than before, with his arms up to guard his head. “If it’s a family reunion you want, then you’re shit out of luck.”
“Oh, I doubt very much that we’re related in any significant way, Cadet.”
The longer it goes, the more it starts to change. The furrow between his brows turns as deep as a crevasse as he begins to trade his endurance for strength, his speed for force, his patience for haste. More liable to hurt himself than her.
She ends it quickly.
She catches his next fist, but does nothing for the momentum, letting it ricochet back up his arm to jar his shoulder. She steps off to the side and kicks the back of his knee again, brings him to a kneel. With her knee braced against the top of his spine, one hand grasped around his wrist and the other on the junction where neck meets shoulder, she stretches his arm out and twists, threatening a break.
He grunts beneath her hold, craning his neck, punching at her hands with his free hand, the hits only half as strong as they were before. His teeth are clenched hard enough that they slide and crunch over each other. She holds fast, twists his wrist another degree, and leans down.
“It’s over,” she whispers near his ear as he struggles. “Tap out, Cadet.”
It happens in slow increments, the way each muscle group in his body tenses and releases. He taps his free hand weakly against the ground, his face twisted like the act is costing him dearly. She drops the hold abruptly, so much so that he lands face first in the sand for the third time that afternoon.
There’s an odd beat of silence, then a smatter of awkward claps before Shadis starts barking more orders to the assembled cadets. Mikasa doesn’t hear a word of it above her own panting breaths and thudding pulse. Cadet Ackerman rolls onto his back and stares into nothing, cheeks dirt-streaked and flushed pink, a scowl as dark as the night sky rending his lips.
She nudges his side with the toe of her boot. “When the time comes,” she says, holding out a hand to help him up, “join the Scouts.”
His eyes flick towards hers, and he bats her hand away roughly as he sits up. “Tch. I don’t have a death wish, thanks.”
“Would you rather guard the king with the MPs, then? Chase down other kids like you with the Garrison?” He answers with a scoff and stands, brushing the dirt and dust off his front and scowling when it does nothing. She softens her tone. “We could use someone like you out there. You could make a difference.”
He drags his gaze up and down her body again, but it feels more appraising this time. “Seems you already have someone like me making a difference out there.” He gathers the ripped halves of his jacket and turns back to her with another lazy salute. “A pleasure meeting you, Captain Ackerman,” he drawls. “Tell Erwin that he’s gonna have to try harder next time.” He turns without another word, without dismissal, and stalks his way back into the barracks.
Mikasa waits for him to disappear beyond the door before pressing a hand to the ribs he kicked earlier. A gentle probe proves that they aren’t broken, just bruised, and should be fine by tomorrow. She bites back a wince as she lifts her arm and waves a farewell to Shadis, who’s deranged grin has only grown, and takes her leave.
When she makes it back to Erwin, still poised with his hands against the balcony railing, she snaps at him, “Are you going to tell me what’s going on now?”
“Hmm?” Erwin half turns. “Oh, he tried to kill me.”
“What?”
“I’m sure you heard me correctly.”
“When?”
“Two months ago. There was talk of someone using stolen ODM gear to wreak havoc in The Underground. I went personally to find out more, and came across him.”
“Then what is he doing here?” she hisses. “Why didn’t you hand him over to the MPs when you had the damn chance?”
“The MPs did catch him,” he corrects her. “I persuaded them to release him into my care.”
“And why the fuck would you do something like that?”
“There were other extenuating circumstances, but you just experienced why. The battle for humanity will be won by people like you and him. We can’t afford to be too selective about where they come from.”
“And if he tries to kill you again? Then what?”
Erwin shakes his head. “He won’t.”
“I was wrong before.” She lets out a long breath. “Your curiosity is going to get yourself killed, not anyone else.”
“Your worry is unwarranted.” He turns back over the balcony, watches the rest of the cadets disperse for lunch. “Will you be heading back south immediately?”
She sighs. “I suppose that depends on you, Commander.”
“Could you be convinced to stay awhile?”
She hesitates. “If the offer is right, maybe. But you’ll need to send another team leader south if that’s what you want.”
“That won’t be a problem. Others will clamour for your position, even if it’s only temporary.” A pause, then: “I want you to teach him.”
Mikasa blinks. “Excuse me?”
“Shadis is more than competent, of course, but Cadet Ackerman requires… a firmer guiding hand than Shadis can give. One that I believe you can, given your particular understanding for what he is.”
She rankles a little at the implication, that Ackermans can’t possibly be the same as other humans, the othering she’s heard her entire life. “You grossly overestimate me, sir.”
“And I believe you grossly underestimate yourself, Captain.” He adjusts his dark green cloak around his broad shoulders and turns to face her. “It’s not an order,” he assures her.
She crosses her arms, avoiding the bruised patch of her ribs. “You make it feel like one.”
“Then allow me to say that you are under no obligation.” He nods towards the door. “Leave now if that’s what you feel is right.”
It should be an easy decision; she’s been stationed south of the outermost Wall for almost six months, helping Hange collect data and keeping their respective teams safe. A life of far more excitement and merit that any inside the Walls can offer her. But this… she can’t say she’s not intrigued by Levi Ackerman, that she can’t see the potential in him. That she wouldn’t regret walking out now without at least trying to get to know him a little better.
“No,” she says at last. “I’ll stay.”