Chapter Text
It's quite difficult to be at the right place at the right time, but at least he can read the waters like an open book—one, two, the waves climb a certain height, and then at three, they tumble down only for some to crash against the rocks. Another set is rolling as far back as the eyes can see, and Levi’s ready to ride them the moment they get to him. The sight of the horizon from a distance is a spectacle so inviting, so thrilling he can barely resist. A signal of an incoming wave arrives, reaching the peak, so he surfs through the crests and troughs once more, his movements fluid and in rhythm with the surge. There’s a little ocean froth that sprays onto his face, but it doesn’t bother him at all; he lives for these moments of elation.
If the ocean were alive, then this is how it breathes, and Levi breathes with it. His surfboard is catching wind so he maneuvers back into his riding stance and pulls another stunt once he rolls down the tip of the wave.
Beyond where he surfs, he can hear a few people clapping and cheering by the coast, all of them tiny specks of dot from his line of sight. He’s not a big fan of having an audience, often chooses to surf when there’s no one around. Levi goes for another flip and catches the wave a third time, adrenaline pumping through his veins. Then the water stays still, an absence of multiple breaks, which is a sign that he’s done for the day. He lets the waves take control to wash him away into the water. His mind is at ease when he’s been drifting away for a bit, just the ocean all around him, claiming his tiredness from moving in rhythm with it. Afterwards, he climbs his surfboard, paddling his way back to the shore. It has been a great surf. Beneath him and the crystal clear waters, he can see fishes swimming past the corals, eels and rays slithering through the rocks. It’s nature at its finest. When he arrives on land, the tourists who are in awe of him whisper among themselves, a few even aching to get to know the lone surfer in town. He’ll try to avoid them, but deep inside, the praises boost his spirits a little bit. It’s a dream in paradise, here on their tiny island.
Levi knows there are days when he’s actually surfing the waters like those times, and there are days when he’s surfing the sheets in his dream.
Like now.
The crowing of a rooster wakes him up, his gray eyes blinking impossibly slow, muscles still sore. Something in his mouth is reeking and Levi hopes his clothes are just somewhere on the floor. His sight shifts into focus, and Levi already has this sinking feeling deep inside him: he’s in bed with someone he doesn’t know. The room is unfamiliar—sheets sandy, the light musk of ocean salt filling his nostrils. Once the person beside him stirs, Levi slowly cranes his neck.
“Hey,” he begins, unsure of what to say, “I, uh, I had a great time last night.”
There’s some humming for a bit.
“Sure,” the stranger mumbles, bunching the sheets together, completely uninterested in him. “You can go. Just lock the door behind you.”
The seconds drone on for a bit, and he can hear the birds chirping outside, but Levi still doesn’t move. He doesn’t want to. “Do you think we can still—” Levi bites his lip and prepares himself for his question. “...see each other?”
Another yawn escapes from the person. “I doubt it. My flight’s in the afternoon.”
“Can we at least get in touch?” His voice cracks, desperate. The morning light is seeping through the bamboo slits by the window.
He's faced with a bored expression, the stranger’s eyes still heavy with sleep. “Sorry, I don’t even remember who you are.”
“Levi.”
“Whatever. You’re probably a nice guy, but I only went to this island to have some fun.” Bed sheets rustle when the blanket gets pulled away from him. “Great surf, though.”
The person lays down once again to go back to sleep. Levi takes it as his cue to leave. It’s futile to push it even further.
After he finally gathers all his clothes and puts them on, he hears some snoring from the person in bed. It’s just another one of those days, just another nameless face, another stranger of a tourist, another wishful thinking his memory gets wiped clean. Good riddance, he thinks to himself as he heads out, although it's more of a loss for him, really.
The ocean, at least, is a little bit kinder to him.
Outside, the sunlight is blinding. He goes to his favorite spot on the coast, right where the huge rocks on the water are so he can sit and admire the sunrise before he heads to work. Sitting down, he hikes one leg up the boulder and rests his elbow on his knee, chin on hand. The first few rays of the sun reach his face within seconds. He sighs, listening to the sound of the waves as they come and go. The ferry will arrive from the mainland bringing a couple of tourists in, then the cycle repeats: he sleeps with a tourist or two inadvertently, knowing fully well that they’ll only be on the island for a few days or so.
Some days he really can’t figure out what he’s doing with his life. It's all a blur. As if he’s just rolling through the tides of the season. Other people would have to figure it out for him.
“I really don’t get it," a booming voice behind him starts, "Why do you sleep with tourists in hopes that one of them will fall for you and choose to stay?”
His friend asks him this the moment Levi gets up from where he sits, sand and sea salt clinging to the soles of his feet.
Erwin’s on a morning walk with his children, who are currently nowhere to be found.
“Shit, I don’t know. Must be a curse.” Levi slowly twists his foot absentmindedly, digging a pit into the sand. “It’s not my fault.”
“That…?”
“Everyone in town is either taken, too young, or too old.”
An old man with bald hair and missing teeth waves at them from afar. He’s sitting on a beach chair on the sand, also admiring the view. Old man Pixis smiles at them like a Buddha on a diet, immaculate, before he sinks his gums into a slice of watermelon. Erwin is repulsed by the sight. “It’s not our fault you have a specific type.”
“I have a type?”
“Sure. You like anyone who’s bound to leave you behind.”
Levi scoffs at Erwin’s words. His blond friend is probably right. Levi’s the sole bachelor in town, sort of by choice. And by sheer misfortune. Half the people he and Erwin grew up with had left the island the moment they finished school, given the lack of job opportunities in town.
They’re both facing the sun when they hear a bunch of seven-year-olds chasing each other out in the open. The children have been playing hide-and-seek behind the rocks by the shore.
“Papa,” Mikasa runs up to her father first with clammy hands and Erwin picks up his daughter. The two other kids appear in plain sight. They run around Levi until the blond one named Armin calls it quits, panting, one hand on his heaving chest.
“Hey, Uncle Levi,” the other boy, Eren, says as he looks up to Levi, “can you teach us some tricks in the water today?”
He’s not really their uncle, nor are they related by blood, but Erwin has taught his children to call Levi as such. Even with the young one’s politeness, Levi doesn’t have time for babysitting; he’s about to decline and start his day at work.
However, Erwin nudges him in the rib, mouthing, ‘Be nice to my kids.’
Three huge pairs of eyes are blinking at him, curious, pleading. He knows he can’t deny this. Children are able to get him to do anything if they try hard enough, so Levi finally huffs. “Sure. You all got your small paddle boards with you?”
The three children nod at him, completely satisfied, their hair bobbing as they do.
“All right, run up to Mama now and go get changed,” Erwin urges the little ones, and they all shout in unison, tiny hands clapping in glee.
Eren scrambles ahead, prompting his two other siblings to catch him if they can. He’s yelling “Freedom!” as he gets away from the rest of them.
Relieved, the two grown-ups watch the three chase each other once more back to their house, their laughter filling their ears from a distance.
Erwin chuckles. “Kids, they grow up so fast. It’s as if it was only yesterday when they came out of the womb.”
“They’re all adopted.”
“Ah, well, I can still imagine them coming out of the womb.” He changes the subject to avoid the awkward silence. “Ever considered leaving?” Erwin asks him.
“Can’t. You know that, right?”
The sun is now up in the sky, their figures casting shadows on the sand. Levi puts a hand to shield his pale face from the harsh rays of the morning sun. Leaving was never an option for him. He’d rather have hell freeze over.
“You should know this by now—people eventually leave this island," Erwin reminds him, even though he doesn’t have to. "Even my own kids will probably do it when they grow up.”
The two of them squint once again at the glaring sun, wistful.
Everyone else in this town leaves, Levi already knows that. Farlan and Isabel, his childhood friends, left as soon as they had finished school. So did many others who wanted to taste life in the city; they never came back once they had a glimpse of what they never had. Even his uncle had booked the first ferry the day Levi became an adult. People from Paradis can’t help it that they live in a dying town, completely devoid of any fun and entertainment. The sparseness of tourists doesn’t help, either.
But Levi likes it here because the waves can reach this secluded part of the island. Perhaps there’s something about the solitude here that provides him comfort. Especially with the head-high waves and the offshore winds that he can read on any day. There’s something about the salty smell of the ocean on his skin, the heat of the sun against his back, the roughness of the sand on his feet.
He tries not to think about work when he’s surfing, though it’s inevitable. It’s quite difficult not to think about surfing while at work, either. There's another boat that the town mayor wants him to clean for the day so he can use it while fishing. It doesn't pay much, but it's enough to keep Levi occupied for hours. Darius Zackley is strict when it comes to the boats he owns, but he doesn’t give a damn about politics at all, or that his town is derelict without anything to boost it up in terms of tourism.
For the rest of the locals, life goes on.
When Levi goes surfing after another long week of work to clear his thoughts, he pushes himself to focus more on the big swell, as they call it, that unforgettable experience that makes surfers exhilarated with the rhythm of the waves, followed by the solitude. It's another rough ride, yet there isn’t a single mistake in his moves. His muscles are tensing from the challenge of the ocean, but that’s way better than any work that he’s required to do. Once he’s halfway over the wave’s crest, he directs his shoulders toward the wave and raises his arms on both sides, his back leg pushing the board upon a turn. His entire body swivels together with the surfboard, a flip perfectly executed. It's a miraculous stunt he's learned throughout these years. A magnificent landing.
After he heads back to the shore completely satisfied, one of the tourists who’s watching him comes over and politely asks, “Are there sharks around here?”
It’s a funny question, Levi thinks. Having already stripped off his wetsuit from the waist up, he lodges the end of his surfboard into the sand so that it stands upright. “There are always sharks in the ocean.”
“I mean, here, here. On this coast.”
He shrugs. “I’ve seen a few, but they never seem to approach me. It’s usually safe as long as you’re within the whitewater.”
A smaller wave hits the rocks, but it doesn’t keep the water from splashing on them. The stranger, however, jerks back in surprise and puts a hand on his chest. Levi doesn’t move, but he’s somewhat smitten and hopes that this person is finally The One.
“You’re crazy.” The stranger smirks at him, says, “I like that,” and then pulls him in for a kiss.
Newsflash: that person wasn’t The One.
Not even by a long mile.
He’s having his morning tea at the diner, eyes still groggy from another one-night-stand. The tourist from last night made him leave around 3 in the morning, and for some reason, Levi couldn't go back to sleep. It was a good fuck, he had been told, right before he got shoved out of the room. He doesn’t know why he keeps doing all these walks of shame, to be honest, when he has his own place. The people he sleeps with never seem to want to head there with him. Something about too much intimacy (which, ironically, is what he’s craving for) totally freaks them out. Levi promises himself he'd stop his hookup phase once he finally meets the one who chooses to stay. Unfortunately, at the age of 30, it hasn't happened yet. He’s now staring at the empty space in front of him like a ghoul.
There’s 90s music playing in the background, the smell of fresh coffee and hot pancakes wafting through the air. It’s the same old black-and-white diamond tiles, the fading and patched-up red leather lounge seats. The same customers, all of them locals. A neon-sign with the words “Trost Diner” is blinking haphazardly on the wall, making the entire place look more like a haunted house in broad daylight than an actual breakfast place.
Nothing new was going on when Levi entered that morning. At least, not until they heard someone shouting right outside the diner: "We're done, it's over—I'm not going back!"
The person is yelling repeatedly on the phone, voice low, but fueled with anger and pent-up frustration, and they all can hear the bickering through the mesh-screen door.
“Damn, somebody brought some drama to this island,” Nanaba, the diner owner, remarks. She’s muttering, ‘these tourists’ and ‘nasty city-people’ while buttering some toast.
And Levi, still buzzed from his latest sexcapade, can’t be bothered by anything.
"Whoa, the news got something interesting today, huh?" Miche, Nanaba’s husband, leans on the counter and looks up at the TV mounted on the opposite wall. He draws out a long whistle. "Looks like we’re finally getting some recognition on a map."
Today's news featured possible evidence of an endangered species called the Orvud whale in the waters of Paradis Island. The rumors started from fishermen who had seen a huge shadow in the ocean. No sightings have been confirmed yet, but people are getting intrigued. They’re all listening to the reporter on TV when the unknown voice rises a decibel higher.
“I said no, okay? Don’t even bother! Leave me alone!”
The heated discussion continues from the stranger outside the diner who they assume to be cursing someone on the other end of the phone. Whoever is on the receiving end is one unlucky person.
The three of them listen in, curiosity peaking, and the argument continues for a while—just this one person yelling over the phone, stifling a cry. None of them can see who's talking, just the tall and lean shadowy figure behind the mesh-screen door.
After what seems to be like a solid minute or two, the shouting finally stops. The call has presumably ended, and someone has hung up.
They're about to resume their operations when the door opens wide with a bang, and it nearly falls off the hinge.
The entire diner looks at the newcomer.
"Sorry," the person who just entered says to no one and everyone. She clumsily attempts to put it back, but with little success. The door whines at the loose screw, refusing to reattach itself. After a few more tries, finally, she’s had enough and lets it hang lopsidedly. Another apology escapes her: "I will, uhm, fix it later."
Nanaba’s jaw drops when she catches a better glimpse of the newest customer walking towards the nearest table. “Oh my god. Is that… Hange Zoe?”
The person looks up. “Nana! Miche!”
Shrill screams fill the diner as Nanaba runs to tackle the guest who just arrived. “It is you! How long has it been? Ten, twelve years? You haven’t changed much since high school!” She opens her arms wide for a hug.
The newcomer tightens her grasp around Nana. “It’s been a while.”
Levi takes his chance to study the person's face, eyeing her lazily from head to toe. She has the air of a city-goer, the mannerisms of someone who doesn’t frequent the ocean. An outsider who has no idea about their customs nor their way of life.
Yup, definitely a tourist.
Miche also comes up to her, wiping his hands on his apron. “No shit, Hange, what brings you here?”
Hange wistfully looks away before breaking into a smile in front of her friends. “Soul searching?”
“Is that so? Well, you’re in for a ride!” Nanaba grabs her friend by the wrist, and tugs Hange over to the counter so she can take her order.
The two of them are talking about their younger years, reminiscing about the good old times in high school, right before Nanaba and Miche decided to spend their lives on the island, and Levi can’t help but eavesdrop. After Hange asks for a bacon and cheese sandwich to go, Nanaba lets her be so she can prepare the order. The guest looks around the place, eyes wide and curious as if she has never seen something so fascinating as a retro diner.
When she takes the empty stool beside Levi, she attempts a conversation. "This is fancy. I adore these kinds of decor." She’s now swaying to the upbeat pop music, head bobbing up and down as she feels the rhythm. Whatever argument she was in a while ago had probably dissipated already in her mind.
“Your first time around here?”
Hange pivots her seat to face him. “Ah, sort of… might be here for some months.”
“Really?” Levi blows off the steam from his teacup. No tourist in their right mind would choose to stay for long in a deserted town on a lonely island.
“Yeah." She nods. "I’ll be renting Kiyomi Azumabito’s beach house for a while.”
Levi knows which house she’s talking about: Kiyomi Azumabito, the richest person in town, owns the small cottage a block away from where he lives. The middle-aged lady is currently travelling the world on her own, which is why she rents out her place to tourists. However, rumors have been spreading around town that the place is haunted.
“They say the ghost of her dead husband roams in it.”
Hange’s laughter is enchanting. “Maybe I’ll make friends with the ghost then.”
A moment of silence follows when she shoves her phone back into her pocket, but not before staring at the blinking screen for a second and shaking her head. Levi supposes someone’s trying to reach her for another call. Unnerved, the newcomer then rolls up her long-sleeves, and Levi only notices her outfit just now.
“Is your wardrobe all that formal?” He gestures to her clothing.
She’s sticking out like a sore thumb, her long-sleeved, button-down collared shirt and neatly-pressed slacks so out of place in contrast to everyone’s attire: floral tees, beach shorts, and flip flops—an accurate representation of their laidback lifestyle on this island.
“Hmm, this? It’s too stiff for beach weather, isn’t it?” Hange yanks the fabric of her top. “I was in a rush to leave, and I didn’t have a lot of time to pack. Maybe it’s about time I look for lighter clothes.”
“Warmer is better,” he suggests, “especially if you’re going to walk around the area all day.”
She pushes back up her glasses onto her face. “That's true. Oh, I wanna see where everything is! The market, the shops, the beaches, all the hidden spots—”
“There isn’t much here, but I can give you a tour, if you want,” Levi offers, sincerely.
From the kitchen, Nanaba raises an eyebrow while Miche shakes his head. They both know where this is heading.
Hange, calm and composed, merely tucks her hair behind her ear. “Aw, that’s really sweet, but I just wanna explore the island first on my own.”
Before Levi can say anything else, Nanaba comes back with Hange’s order in a paper bag. Hange is about to fish out her wallet from her pocket when Nanaba puts up a hand, telling her not to bother. “My treat. Welcome to paradise, Hanj!”
“Thanks, Nana.” Hange turns to leave, but not before facing him one last time. “Guess I’ll see you around…?” she pauses, prompting for his name.
“Levi.”
“Levi,” she repeats it to herself, liking the sound of the syllables. “Nice meeting you.” Hange’s eyes are gleaming behind her glasses when she reaches out for a handshake.
He stares at it for about five seconds before he realizes that he’s supposed to take it. Handshakes are too formal for this island. Also not his thing. But it seems to be a gesture that Hange is fond of, because the moment he shakes hands with her, she pulls him towards her and takes a good sniff of his hand.
His body seizes up. "Oh," he says.
The entire diner stops once more.
If there’s anything more absurd that has ever happened in this diner, it’s this: a tourist brushing her fingers along the knuckles of the town’s bachelor surfer, oddly smelling him. If this were someone else, Levi Ackerman would have punched them right in the face. Maybe a good smack on the head. But something in his brain has short-circuited. The tip of her nose touches the skin of his hand and Levi doesn’t even know how to react. Maybe because there’s a charm to this particular tourist, one that he still can’t put a finger to.
“You smell like pineapples,” she says, taking another whiff of his scent, “and saltwater.”
He snorts. “Shit, well, sorry.”
“No, don’t be. I kinda like it.” Hange smiles again at him. He’s staring at her like an owl, his hand still on hers when Hange realizes that the situation has become awkward. The other customers are watching them. She then lets go of him. “Sorry, I got taken away. I should go, haha, goodbye?”
She then heads out with her food, having nothing else more to say. Levi’s still frozen in his spot as she heads for the exit. But it seems that her embarrassment has already dissipated with their first encounter, from the way she’s humming the chorus of the song until they can no longer hear her.
Out of nowhere, Nanaba whacks Levi by the head and it brings him back to reality.
“Ow,” he says. “What the hell was that for?”
“You.” The diner owner is pointing a ladle at him, a hand on her hip. “Stay away.”
“What the fuck?” Levis’s taken aback. He knows his reputation isn’t much of a secret among the locals. “I haven’t done anything—”
“Yet,” Miche cuts him off, and they all know what he means.