On memory and meaning (Levi x Reader)

Chapter 1

Marley, Liberio. Warrior Headquarters. Daybreak.

That day began in the scorching sun, but it would end in rain.

You ran, exhausted, on hot, dry land, flattened and infertile over months of being trampled on. It was hard and unforgiving under your blistered feet, just as much as the heavy lump of steel that lay grimly in your arms, draining them of the little energy you had managed to recover in the previous night's sleep. 

Each time your feet rebounded off the earth, your joints would tremble, threatening to give in to the weight of the cold metal rifle in your hands; to give in to the excruciating build-up of lactic acid in your calves and in your abdomen. 

If you didn't know better, you would have collapsed right then and there, ditching the rifle, heaving for oxygen, and clutching desperately at the cramp in your muscles. But you didn't, or rather, you couldn't. Not unless you wanted to end up like Zeke - running helplessly on his own at the back, his father's face unable to hide a look of disappointment laced with rage.

So, you ran. 

You ran since running seemed to be the only thing you were good at. You ran until they told you to stop running, and even then, you continued to run in your mind. 

You ran from the pain, from the oppression, from the fact that both your parents were Eldian Restorationists and would probably end up getting your whole family killed or exiled. 

You could run, and hide, and lie, and it was easier. Bearable, even. 

But now, looking up at the statue of Helos, slaying the Devil of All Earth. Him, with his spear pierced cleanly through the monster's cheek, in a stance of victory and heroism, you felt at once a kindling desire to be a hero too. 

Indeed, you were close enough. You were by far the best out of this year's warrior candidates, and that put you for certain in the line-up to inherit one of Marley's seven titans. 

You smiled to yourself. How great would it be to finally make it as an honorary Marleyan, you thought.

"Y/N, what are you smiling about?"

It was Kay, observing you with warm brown eyes. Kay was a girl you had grown up with and trusted dearly. She was also a warrior candidate. 

Her father, who you knew by their last name, Grice, was also an Eldian Restorationist, but her mother was gone after being questioned by Public Security Authorities. They said she had disappeared after she was taken away, but most likely, she was murdered or fed to the dogs. 

That was what happened when you didn't follow the rules, you concluded, but you were different; you were sure that you could climb the ranks and be of use to Marley. You would never let them reduce you to dog food.

You reach a hand to brush away the dark locks of hair that hung unruly across Kay's face as she purses her lips absent-mindedly at your action and laughs.

"Nothing much." You breathe, "I was just thinking, you know. Our parents have been in the basement a lot." 

She nods at your words, sharing your concern. She crosses her arms and stares blankly into space.

"I know." She replies gravely. She looks at you for a moment and furrows her brows. "Should we–"

Kay cuts off as you both notice a group of Marleyan officers walking briskly through the square in stiff leather jackboots and ironed trench coats which seemed to compliment the uninviting aura of the Liberio internment zone.