Strays | Levi x OC

Chapter 3

Karma saluted the departing Scouts, shrouded in a mixture of lively and grave townspeople. The fish and sausage in her pocket weighed against her leg like a chunk of iron, the heaviness a constant reminder of her conversation with Captain Levi. Of being alone with Captain Levi.

She sought him out among the throng of billowing green cloaks. His steed neared. Her leg shook.

This time, he saw her.

Captain Levi held her gaze, pinning her to the spot as though her feet had cemented to the cobblestone. His expression was placid, but almost pained. He did not look away until the regiment rounded a corner, heading for the gates of Trost.

"Look who's not invisible to Captain Levi anymore. What exactly happened at lunch today with Sasha?" Mikasa said.

"Nothing happened." Karma's hand rested against the lump in her pocket.

"Interesting. I heard from Jean that Commander Zachary got a little handsy with a cadet until Captain Levi knocked his lights out with a glass of mead." Mikasa shrugged. "I'd say it sounds like a rumor, but I saw Zachary out cold, a bunch of broken glass, and no sign of you or Sasha." Karma sighed and pulled the meat from her pocket. Mikasa's eyes were as large as the sausage patty.

"Levi told me I wasn't cut out to be a Scout then saved me from that drunk creep. I stole from his pantry to try and redeem my pride."

"Oh, is that all? When were you planning on telling me? Dammit, Karma." She raked a hand through her hair. "I knew I should've gone after you. I knew you were up to no good."

"It's fine, really. I'm not in any trouble."

Clomping hooves filled the silence.

After a minute, Karma pulled out the sausage patty again and slipped it in Mikasa's pocket. "Don't tell me you haven't been craving meat," she said.

Mikasa scoffed. She tore the patty and handed half back to Karma. "Save some for the strays."

* * *

"No, Jean! You turd." Karma yanked the can of fish back from the naughty cat who had attempted to run off with it. "It's called sharing."

The cats ignored the sausage—Levi had been right about their preference for fish.

Knees tucked to her chin, Karma watched the strays flit about, her imagination expanding like foam. She pictured Captain Levi in the alley with her. Scolding Jean. Feeding the strays. Laughing about the unfortunate stench.

Then the cats scattered. The can rattled, abandoned.

Something was wrong.

The stone beneath her trembled. Pebbles quivered and bounced like kernels on a hot pan. Her shoulders curled inward and she clutched her chest. Her stomach stitched with ice.

She was imagining it.

As long as she stayed hunched in the alley and ignored the trembling rocks it wasn't real.

The walls would keep her safe. She looked to them, seeking reassurance in their fifty meter majesty. But instead, a flash of red. The image flipped sideways. Her cheek hit the cold ground. She squeezed her eyes shut.

Too many teeth. No creature has that many teeth. Her 32 teeth chattered.

She jolted at a touch on her cheek. It was Jean, pawing her. She couldn't even form the words "Go!" or "Run!" on her tongue. It was a stick of butter in her mouth. Jean slashed his claw.

It hurt. This was real.

They were exposed in the alley. The red face looming over the wall could see them. She was a doll in a playhouse. They needed to move, but her plastic legs had disconnected from her brain. Jean clawed her again and the connection returned. She scooped him up just as the earth split open.