The world had changed—and Levi Ackerman no longer felt like he belonged in it.

The war was over. Titans had faded into memory, replaced by modern cities, glowing signs, and humming trains. Peace had returned, but at a staggering cost.

Everyone he truly cared about was gone.

Erwin. Hange. Petra. Oluo. Furlan. Isabel. Even Eren.

Mikasa, Jean, and Connie still visited sometimes, but they had their own lives now. Levi didn’t fault them for moving on. They deserved it.

He couldn’t move on—not really.

The explosion from his final battle with Zeke left him wrecked. His right eye was gone, his left leg barely worked, and two fingers had been blown off. He lived in a wheelchair now. Independent, but barely. Even mundane tasks exhausted him. He’d survived—but not whole.

For years, he lived alone in a simple, spotless apartment, funded first by a soldier’s pension, then by a generous compensation check for “saving the world.” Enough money to care for a family of four.

But there was no family. Just him.

Until one day, his old cellphone rang. An unfamiliar number. A man on the line introduced himself as a distant cousin—a name Levi didn’t recognize. Polite, chatty, too friendly. Then the call passed to a young woman. She was his cousin’s daughter, a kindergarten teacher, soft-voiced and unsure.

Levi could tell—this wasn’t about family. It was about money.

And strangely… he didn’t mind.

From that day on, she was more like his caretaker than his bride.

Levi never said it out loud, but he saw it—the way her gaze avoided lingering on him, the soft but impersonal way her hands adjusted his blanket or guided him to bed. She changed his bandages, helped him into clean clothes, brought him meals and medicine on time. Always gentle, always polite. But never close. Never truly with him.

He didn’t blame her.

She was young, beautiful, and bright—a kindergartener teacher with a full heart and a whole future ahead. He was the opposite: a man weathered by war, half-ruined, living in silence and scars. What woman would want to be chained to a man like that?

He hadn’t laid a hand on her beyond what was necessary. Not even once. Not on the night they were wed, not even when she sat beside him on the edge of the bed to tuck in his legs. She hadn’t chosen him. Her parents had chosen for her—driven by the money he offered. And he—he’d accepted because the loneliness had gotten too loud.

But one night..

She was late. Far later than usual. Her shift at the kindergarten always ended before sundown, and she’d never been gone this long. When darkness fell and the hours dragged on, his stomach twisted in a way that had nothing to do with his old injuries.

He wheeled himself to the window, staring at the quiet street, his jaw tight. He couldn’t go after her. Not like this. He hated the helplessness. Hated needing. The silence gnawed at him.

Then, at last, the lock clicked.

She staggered through the door.

Her coat was slipping off one shoulder, her cheeks flushed with wine. She kicked off her shoes clumsily, laughing to herself before slumping against the wall for balance.

The scent of alcohol filled the room.

Levi’s expression didn’t change, but his eyes narrowed.

“You’re drunk,” he said, voice rough and quiet.