The Fragments of Us | Levihan |

|{|}| TEN |{|}|

Hanji is surprised, to put it lightly, at the unusual tranquility that has blossomed between Levi and Emmanuel since their recent trip to the medical ward. No passive aggression. No squabbles. Not a single glare exchanged. She wonders if the universe itself had spun round and round until it dropped her into an alternate reality. Nevertheless, she welcomes the change.

Hanji turns back to the military record in her hand, scans it, and sighs. "Not mine." She tosses it onto the growing pile of folders at her feet.

If only the universe could solve all of her problems.

Hanji peers up through the lamplight at the maze of towering shelves around her, marveling at the yellowing files in their entirety: Thousands upon thousands of documents dating all the way back to the first generation of Paradisians. So much history preserved in this one building alone... What secrets lie within these walls? What legendary contributions had these patriots of the past achieved? Could her own legacy ever match up?

She's soon pulled from her thoughts by the sounds of scuffling, barking, and voices raising. She sighs and rounds the corner, surprised to find Jean and Emmanuel locked in a heated dispute, with Levi—despite his short stature—separating the two taller men.

"What's going on here?" she yells over the commotion. 

"Emmanuel's been hiding this folder from us," snaps Jean, pointing at the file in Emmanuel's hands, where the name "Zoë" is barely legible on the label.

"This record belongs to a 'Hezekiah Zoë.' I wanted to verify it before showing anyone," says Emmanuel defensively, clutching the ledger to his chest.

Hanji perks up. An instinctive and oddly familiar itch tickles the back of her mind; a feeling she has grown accustomed to since that fateful day in the wastelands.

"Wait... let me see that file."

Emmanuel hesitates, gripping the file even tighter.

"Give it to her," says Levi gruffly, stepping forward. He tugs at the record.

The Marleyan resists briefly, then reluctantly lets go. Levi passes it to her.

Hanji flips through the moth-bitten papers, poring over the contents of each page. A journal entry with the portrait of a young man taped to it catches her eye. He looks to be in his early twenties with shaggy black hair, olive skin, and an aquiline nose. He stands erect in a solemn salute, muscular build clad in a tan leather jacket with an insignia of overlapping blue and white wings on his left breast pocket. But it's his eyes that truly draw her in—brilliant, bronze, and harbouring a wisdom beyond his youth.

Hanji slowly reaches up and removes her monocle, peering through the magnified glass for a better view of the veteran's face. She doesn't realize how much she's shaking until she has to use her free hand to steady her arm. She can sense Levi studying her out of the corner of her eye.

At last she breathes a giddy laugh, turning back to the men watching her expectantly. "This man, Hezekiah Zoë... he was my father."

At once, surprised outbursts and shocked faces greet her elation.

"There are hundreds of thousands of records. It could just be someone with the same surname," says Emmanuel, voice laced with an air of skepticism and what almost seems to be desperation.

Hanji silently hands him the record. Marco sniffs the document curiously as Levi and Jean crowd around Emmanuel. Faded graphite handwriting sheens under the fluorescent lamplight.

December 28th, 834

We've traveled farther beyond the Walls than I ever thought possible! These first few weeks of snowfall have turned the lush pasturelands of the outside territory into a desert of ice. Although we have been prevented from traveling far on horseback, the Titans have ceased their pursuit due to all this snow. Squad Leader Liao reports seeing huge clusters of snowdrops growing to the east of Orvud District. I'm going to pick some for Hanji. Hanji loves snowdrops.