Work Text:
Levi is halfway home when his phone rings.
Caller ID: Furlan Church, one of the finance managers of the Ackerman family trust.
He sighs. A call from Furlan means one of two things:
1. Annual tax summaries, or
2. Hange has bought something concerning.
And given that Hange is currently on doctor-ordered bed rest—pregnant with twins, terminally bored, and armed with a credit limit capable of funding a mid-sized museum—the odds are clear.
He picks up.
“Hey, Levi… Mr. Ackerman,” Furlan begins, voice tight. Levi knows that the switch to formal address is not a good sign.
“Yes, Furlan?”
“Dr. Zoë—your wife made a purchase today. I wanted to confirm before processing it.”
Levi inhales slowly. Here we go.
“Alright. Hit me. Is it medical equipment?”
“…No. Not this time.”
Levi’s eyes narrow. “Is it scientific equipment?”
“Also… no.”
“Is it something that could cause a chemical reaction, structural damage, a full-building power outage, or another visit from the city inspectors?”
A longer pause. Paper shuffles. Furlan clears his throat.
“No, sir. Facilities have checked. It’s nothing like that. Actually… the invoice lists osteological specimens and a string of academic terms. I’m not sure what it is, but the price—”
Levi exhales in relief.
Osteological specimens. Bones.
Bones are harmless. Bones stay on shelves. Bones do not explode or require hazmat labels.
Bones are safe.
“Okay,” he says, shoulders dropping. “You can process it.”
A beat.
“Sir… are you sure? The specimen is rather large.”
“Do I need to dismantle my door to let it in like last year?”
“…Surprisingly, no.”
“Then process it.”
“Very well, sir,” Furlan says, in the defeated tone of a man who has seen too much.
The moment Levi opens his apartment door, he realises—instantly, alarmingly—that he has made a mistake.
In the middle of the living room stands a massive skeleton, over three metres long, suspended in a steel display frame.
Levi freezes.
He slowly turns toward the source of his distress.
“Hange?”
Hange sits on the sofa wearing his shirt, hair damp from a shower, hands resting on her belly, gazing at the skeleton with the innocent focus of a child admiring a Christmas tree.
She beams.
“Levi! You’re home! Come look! Isn’t she beautiful?”
Levi gestures weakly toward the enormous skeletal creature.
“You… bought a fucking whale?”
“They are dolphins!” Hange exclaims proudly. “Dolphins! This is a rare specimen from deep coastal regions, but look—look—”
She rushes to the display, eyes glowing. Levi catches the keyword immediately.
“What do you mean they?” he asks, dread creeping in as he surveys the scattered packaging across the floor. “Are there more?”
“They are families!!”
“‘Families’—” Levi echoes. “What families—”
Then he sees it.
Inside the curve of the ribcage—carefully mounted within the abdominal cavity—lie two tiny fetal dolphin skeletons.
Levi’s soul leaves his body.
“Hange,” he says faintly, “why are there babies inside?”
“Because she was pregnant when she died!” Hange replies at machine-gun speed. “It’s unbelievably rare, Levi! Dolphins almost always carry only one calf. But not this miracle maker! Both fetuses were preserved well enough to be reconstructed! Isn’t that amazing—”
“Amazing isn’t the word I would use,” Levi mutters.
She continues, radiant with academic delight.
“And look—the pelvic structure! The developmental symmetry! The rarity of twins in marine mammals! Levi, this is practically irreplaceable—”
“Hange,” he swallows, “this is a dead mother and her twins.”
She smiles brightly. “She is a maritime wonder!”
“She’s—” Levi gapes. “At least three metres long.”
“3.3,” she corrects cheerfully. “3.6 if you include the frame.”
“That is not better.”
“Isn’t she magnificent?” She tilts her head. “And most importantly, Levi, they’re a family.”
“Yes,” Levi whispers, rubbing his face. “A dead family.”
Hange presses both hands to her belly.
“Just like me! Like us! I mean—alive, obviously—but still a family. We’re having twins too! Don’t you see? It’s symbolic!”
Levi stares.
He blinks.
“Symbolic of what?”
She chirps dreamily. “Life! Continuity! The beauty of maternal bonds! The tragedy of nature! Also—look how cute the fetal skulls are—”
“Nobody should ever say ‘cute fetal skulls’ out loud,” Levi groans. “We are not keeping this at home.”
Hange blinks.
“Why not?”
“Because it’s disturbing.”
“They are not!” she protests, pouting. “They’re emotional!”
“Exactly.”
“Statistically extraordinary!”
“No.”
“Uniquely preserved!”
“No.”
“Scientifically significant!”
“No.”
“But…” Her eyes soften, suddenly unbearable. “I really like her. We have a connection.”
Levi swallows.
“You cannot have an emotional connection with osteological specimens.”
“Yes, I can.” She looks away. “We’re both mothers.”
Levi exhales.
Slowly.
Deeply.
Like a man negotiating with God.
This is no longer a discussion.
This is damage control.
“Alright,” he rubs his temples. “Where do they live?”
“Hm.” Hange tilts her head, finally considering it.
“Since this is a symbol of maternal love—”
Levi’s eyes snap up.
“—the nursery.”
“Absolutely not.”
“Why?”
“Our babies will not share space with another family.”
“Oh. Then the bedroom. Close to me. We’re alike.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Same logic.”
“Then here. The living room. This is the kind of collection that should be honoured.”
“You are not displaying them to our guests.”
“But they’re important,” she insists. “They’re family. Our family.”
“No. Your archival room. With the fossils. No negotiation.”
“Oh. With the fossils?”
“Yes.”
She considers this, then nods.
“Good. They won’t be lonely.”
Levi sighs in relief.
“Next time,” he says carefully, “please warn me if you’re planning to buy anything this emotional. I’m still recovering from the anglerfish.”
Hange grins. “It reminds me of you. Same smile.”
Levi groans, exhaling through his nose.
“And please don’t buy anything with a tragic origin story again.”
Hange pauses. Levi does not like the silence.
“What if it’s educational?”
“Hange.”
Item:
Osteological Specimen – Articulated (Archival Classification)
Description:
Museum-grade articulated composite specimen,
consisting of one primary axial structure
with two associated subordinate units.
Prepared for long-term archival display and preservation.
Configuration:
Integrated set (non-separable)
Units:
3
Dimensions:
Primary unit: approx. 330 cm
Subordinate units: approx. 35 cm / 33 cm
Handling Requirements:
Climate-controlled transport.
Custom structural support frame included.
Non-standard spatial clearance required.
Purpose:
Educational / Archival
Total:
48,000 (ACU)