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Levi.
I have been with the Ackermans for four years.

I am nine now.

I still don't talk much.

I don't need to.

Mikasa talks. Mrs. Ackerman talks. Mr. Ackerman talks.

I listen.

The Ackermans taught me to read. To write. To hold a spoon the right way. To say "thank you" when given something.

I nod when I mean "yes."

I shake my head when I mean "no."

Sometimes, I whisper a word or two. But only when I have to.

They never push me. Never force me to speak.

They just let me be.

And I am... happy.

But the nightmares don't stop.

I wake up shaking, covered in sweat, the scent of blood thick in my nose. The Underground never really leaves me.

Doctor Jaeger visits today.

I sit at the table while Mikasa and Mrs. Ackerman sew. Their needles move quickly, thread weaving in and out of the fabric.

Mikasa holds up her work. "Is this good, Mom?"

Mrs. Ackerman nods. "That's wonderful, Mikasa. One day, you'll teach your own children."

Mikasa frowns. "Children? How?"

I pause.

I don't know either.

Mrs. Ackerman laughs softly. "Ask your father."

Mikasa turns to Mr. Ackerman. I do too.

We both stare.

"Please, Dad." Mikasa leans forward.

He shifts uncomfortably. "Uh... maybe ask Doctor Jaeger when he gets here."

Mikasa sighs. So do I.

She turns to me, holding up her fabric. "Do you like it, Levi?"

The stitches are clean. The pattern is nice.

I nod.

She beams.

"It's nice," I whisper.

She freezes. Her eyes widen.

Then she smiles again. A big, happy smile.

A knock at the door.

"That must be Doctor Jaeger now," Mr. Ackerman says, standing up.

The door creaks open.

Then—

Blood.

Eren's POV

I walk beside my dad, my hands shoved in my pockets.

We're heading to one of his patient's homes.

"Eren," Dad says, "I want you to be kind."

I frown. "I'll be nice if they are."

Dad sighs. "Levi doesn't speak much. Mikasa is protective of him. Be patient."

I huff. "What's wrong with him?"

Dad gives me a look. "He's had a hard life, Eren. Don't judge him."

I nod, pretending to understand.

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