Just for Yeager

Hard to Handle

How ghastly—more than I could take. The heat of the night's air suckled at my breath and left my chest dry, heart racing. The full moon behind me casted over my shoulders, spotlighting his pallid face like it was on display. I was struck, the feeling of nausea hitting the back of my throat as I examined him with a glassy expression.

That dull look of disinterest had to hide the torment surging inside me while I stood paralyzed over his corpse. Yet I was dumbstruck, fish-eyed. From outside the wall, his body laid on the grassy terrain splattered with blood, his grey empty eyes cocked to the side. Flat on his back, his body showed little to no signs of resistance. Did he even transform? Why didn't it seem like he tried to defend himself? Maybe a covert attack? An ambush?

My mind started to rapid fire, a torrent of possibilities surfacing my suspicions. But I couldn't focus on his killer. Our memories together were all I could conjure, all I could rest on. Maybe I was too overprotective, or maybe... not enough. I couldn't help but blame myself for this. He was a comrade, a friend, a lover—

"Aye, Levi? Are you all right?" Hange's voice was like a low pitch ringing to snap me back into reality. Surely, she had to have been calling me a number of times to have asked me that question. I jerked my head up, veering over to my shoulder to witness the grave look of concern in her eyes. I answered her flatly,

"We need to send the body back for an official examination."

She tented her brows, her reply in a hush, "This wasn't a titan's doing."

"I know." Squad members continued to silently converse among themselves as they circled his body. Conny consulted Armin, who was more than devastated. I kept my eyes on him, reading off his dreaded face an inner hysteria. Then I wondered where Mikasa was; after the report went out, she stormed out of our prior mission briefing. Hange suddenly caught my attention as she knelt by his body, lifting up his jacket where a pool of blood poured.

"Impaled. Clean precision between the rib cage. And it looks like it was done with one of our steel blades. Flat, smooth cut."

An inside job? Seems our militia was full of cold, heartless traitors. How sickening. I withdrew to my saddle, mounting my horse in a hidden rage of vengeance. My eyes coursed over his body one last time, stinging with suppressed tears. There needed to be justice, and I intend to proceed without bias. The low-life scum who did this will pay.

"Captain? Are you heading out already?" Sasha asked me and I engaged her with no comment. I merely addressed Hange to load the carriage, and with it, she gave me a blank stare.

But Sasha continued, "He is one of our own! One of our men who died not in combat, but within our own defenses! And you don't even shed a tear? A word of solace?" That girl with an appetite continued to babble on like I had no clue, approaching me with hate. "It's him we're talking about! He risked his life for us on several occasions, kept by our side, volunteered to help with his abilities in any way possible, and you just—"

I had enough, my emotions erupting inside me and unlatched my blade to that wretched girl's loud mug. My voice, as stern and commanding as possible, stifled her lips, "I would shut up now if I were you. You talk without representation, without awareness. He was murdered. That I can clearly see, and you stand here and accuse me of not giving two shits? Perhaps I did it then, huh? Because how can I leave here so coldhearted and apathetic? What would have sufficed? A cascade of tears as I bawled over his carcass? Or maybe a few swearing words of retribution? He is a fallen soldier, just like the rest. And just like the rest, I hold my utmost reverence and thanks." I turned to Hange once more, dropping my blade with a sigh. "Would you please have Eren loaded into the carriage?"