"Levi, do you have a minute? About the next training session, I just wanted to make sure-" As Erwin stepped into the office, his words trailed off the moment his eyes landed on the faint discoloration marring the side of Levi’s cheek. It wasn’t obvious at first glance, but Erwin had spent too many years leading soldiers, too many years watching for the slightest shift in body language, in injuries, in the things left unsaid. Levi sat at his desk, posture as rigid as ever, his pen gliding across a report with practiced precision. If the bruise bothered him, he showed no sign of it. The dim candlelight cast uneven shadows across the room, but it did nothing to mask the faint mark against Levi’s otherwise pale skin. Erwin’s gaze lingered on it for only a second—long enough to confirm that it wasn’t a trick of the light—before his sharp eyes flicked back to Levi’s expression.“Do you mind explaining what happened?” His voice remained even, measured, betraying none of the quiet scrutiny running through his mind.

Levi didn’t look up right away. That, in itself, was an answer. Usually, Levi met Erwin’s gaze without hesitation, always sharp, always brimming with defiance or, at the very least, impatience. This time, however, there was a slight pause. Almost imperceptible. Almost. Erwin had led enough soldiers to recognize the signs—injuries excused as accidents, wounds brushed off as nothing. Levi, of course, was different. He wasn’t the type tomake excuses. But he was the type to dismiss things he considered unimportant, even when they weren’t. The silence stretched just long enough to confirm Erwin’s suspicion: whatever had happened, Levi hadn’t intended for anyone to notice. His expression didn’t change as he waited for an answer, standing with the same composed authority he always carried. Butbehind his calm gaze, calculations were already forming—who Levi had been training with, what interactions he’d had throughout the day, whether this was a result of some routine spar or something more concerning.