#the last sentence is a joke if you disagree and dead serious if you agree. btw | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fanmoose12 · 3 years

Text

catch me if you can

Сharacters: Hange Zoe, Levi, Erwin Smith, Kenny Ackerman

Genres: Mystery / Romance

Summary: The Ackerman duo. Just the mention of this name filled Hange with so many feelings. Mostly, when she reread the files of their cases over and over, until her eyes watered, she felt pricking annoyance. Sometimes, when she stared at the dead bodies of those scarce unfortunates who stumbled upon their crimes, she was filled with hatred and a pushing need for revenge. Hange couldn’t deny, however, there were times when she marveled at the impudence of their crimes. And, when she was investigating the Ackerman’s cases and saw just how meticulously planned they all were, she couldn’t help but feel something close to fascination.No one knew who they were. No one had seen their faces, no one knew their true names. Almost everyone knew of their crimes.Hange was determined to unravel every last one of their secrets. She will put an end to their crimes and then she will get the elusive Ackermans behind bars.

Chapter 9/?

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

“We aren’t looking for Krista Lenz. We’re searching for Historia.”

Despite the evidence quite literally staring right back at her, Hange could scarcely believe what she herself had just said. Krista Lenz, the missing girl she was searching for, wasn’t actually Krista Lenz? Apparently, the girl’s name was Historia, at least, according to the birth certificate. But it didn’t make any sense, and, what’s worse, it raised so many additional questions…

The main question, of course, was the reason for why the girl was living under a false name, and how did Kenny Ackerman acquire this piece of information? And for what purpose?

Luckily, she had the person, who, hopefully, could shed some light on this new mystery. Hange shoved the photo and the document in Ackerman’s hands, staring at him expectantly. “Do you know something about this?”

He didn’t answer right away, and that gave Hange a semblance of hope. Perhaps, it was just a misunderstanding? Perhaps, the photo and the birth certificate were put into one envelope by a trick of fate? And Krista Lenz was truly Krista Lenz? Hange certainly hoped so. It would save her so much trouble.

Ackerman’s eyes were narrowed as he studied the document. Hange watched him with bated breath.

Her world crumbled when he gave a little nod.

“I think I know where Kenny got it. Remember the robbery of that politician’s manor? Kenny stole this thing from the guy’s safe.”

Hange remembered that robbery, remembered that murdered man. But how could it possibly be connected to her recent case?

“How did you know where to find it? And why did your uncle need it in the first place? It makes no sense…”

“On the contrary,” Ackerman shook his head. “Now everything makes perfect sense. I couldn’t understand why Reiss asked us to rob that guy’s house, but now I’m starting to think that your missing girl…”

“Wait! Wait!” Hange silenced him with her palm on his mouth. She whirled around, starting to pace around the room. What he was saying just now? He didn’t mean it, right? At least, not in the way Hange comprehended it. It couldn’t be, she refused to believe it. But what if Ackerman was telling the truth? What if— Hange turned back to him, her eyes pleading for him to say it was an ill-timed joke. “What was that about Reiss? Did you mean Rod Reiss, the member of the parliament? That Reiss?”

“Naturally.”

Hange slowly sank into an armchair. Her head was spinning, her thoughts were going in circles. Rod Reiss, the model politician, the law abiding citizen was working directly with Ackermans. It seemed completely outlandish.

“Are you serious?” she asked quietly, to keep herself from shrieking. “Are you actually fucking serious?”

Ackerman shrugged, looking so nonchalant, a stark contrast to her frantic appearance. “Why would I lie about this?”

Why indeed… Logically, Hange knew there was no reason for him to lie about Reiss’ involvement, but, damn it, she just couldn’t wrap her head about this. Even the notion seemed utterly ridiculous, like it was taken from a dumb conspiracy theory.

“Just before I dropped your case…” Hange began, desperately trying to find a way to contradict Ackerman’s claim. “He wanted to help me solve it. He offered me money and people, anything to get you behind bars.”

And that meant that he wasn’t working with them, right? It meant that Reiss was actually a good guy, who wanted to fight the bad ones.

He’s a politician, a voice that sounded suspiciously like Erwin reminded her. You can’t get so high just from being good.

Despite her endless stubbornness, Hange couldn’t disagree with that. Those who held a lot of power didn’t acquire it from being honest and honorable.

Reiss claimed he wanted to catch Ackermans, but that desire could just be his attempt to cover up his traces.

Fuck.

Ackerman was right. Everything was starting to make sense.

“I guess Reiss wanted to get rid of us,” Ackerman confirmed her guess. Hange’s heart sank. “Maybe, that’s why Kenny didn’t return him this,” he showed her the birth certificate.

Hange felt another wave of nausea. If she correctly understood what Ackerman was implying…

“Are you saying that the missing girl…” she swallowed, reluctant to end that sentence. It would become more real then.

“Yes,” Ackerman nodded, his voice a little softer. Was it his attempt at giving her a bit of comfort? Did he simply pity her? “I think that your Krista Lenz is actually Historia. And that her father is Rod Reiss.”

Even before he spoke, Hange knew that Ackerman had reached that conclusion. Reluctantly, she was almost ready to agree with him. But… her inner world was practically in shambles. Rod Reiss, the good-willed, kind looking man with a gentle smile, was working with the criminals. He had a secret daughter.

She really couldn’t trust anyone, huh? She should have learnt this simple truth by now. Levi Ackerman did a great job of teaching that lesson to her, after all.

Hange dropped head into her hands, letting out a deep, bone-weary sigh. Couldn’t she have at least one simple, easy case? One that wouldn’t make her revalue all of her relationships and lose her faith in the humanity?

A case like that would have been real nice.

But instead she had a case that grew more complicated with each clue and a girl who was waiting to be rescued.

If nothing else, Hange couldn’t let Krista Lenz down. Or Historia, whichever name was the correct one.

“Hey listen…” a tentative touch to her shoulder and a gentle voice in her ear made Hange jump. She looked up and saw Ackerman, standing right next to her. He was… gods, he looked worried. Hange didn’t know if she should be amused or slighted. Just how pathetic she seemed just now, if Ackerman decided to comfort her? “I know it’s a lot to take in…”

Hange brushed his hand aside, abruptly jumping to her feet. Ackerman could take his pity and fuck himself with it. It was a lot to take in, but she was fine. She had taken it all in, she dealt with that mind-blowing revelation. Well, she didn’t really deal with it, but she took a pause in dealing with it. She’d finish the processing after this fucking day was over and she’d get drunk at some shitty bar. But now, she had work that needed her attention. And Hange was ready to begin.

“Give me that,” she snatched the birth certificate out of Ackerman’s hand, studying it intently. The graph with the father’s name wasn’t filled, but the mother’s name was there. Alma. There was no last name, but still, it was a start. Certainly not very promising, but Hange did more with less.

Alas, there was nothing interesting about the document except the name of the child’s mother. The child was born here, in their city, twenty two years ago. Krista Lenz was exactly twenty-two years old. A small detail that simply couldn’t be overlooked.

Next, Hange turned her attention to the photo. The picture showed adult Krista, and it was shot from distance, only her profile visible. Could it mean that someone was spying on her? If Krista was Historia, and a daughter of Rod Reiss, it made sense that he was keeping tabs on her. However…

Hange’s eyes widened, the realization swiftly settling.

The photo and the document, it didn’t come from Reiss. Reiss asked Ackermans to steal it for him, meaning…

“Do you think Reiss has enemies?” she asked Ackerman. “Do you think that someone wanted to expose him?”

“Perhaps,” Ackerman tentatively replied. His eyebrows furrowed, as he continued, rubbing his chin. “The guy that we killed… he wasn’t supposed to be at home that night. Reiss said he wasn’t going to be at home.”

“But he was.” Hange uttered, confused.

“He was,” Ackerman agreed. “And I think Reiss knew about it.”

“You think he tried to set you up?”

“Possibly. Or it was a pure coincidence and the guy just decided to return from the party earlier. Or…” he spread his arms, his point more than clear.

Closing eyes, Hange rubbed her temples. Possibly, Ackerman said. Well, she was definitely getting into something she shouldn’t. Secret children, Ackermans, nasty politicians… It was well above her paygrade.

But she couldn’t just give up. And, fortunately, she knew a place where they could find more information. If the person spying on Krista wasn’t Reiss, then it was someone who was actively trying to expose him. Someone who had died before he could reach his goal.

Hange still remembered that brief conversation she had with the politician’s widow, remembered her mentioning something about a girl that worked for her late husband. Perhaps, that girl was the one who took that photo of Krista. And if she found Krista once, perhaps, she’d help them to find her again.

The plan of action was prepared, and that was enough to calm Hange’s mind. At least, for a short while.

“We’re going to visit the politician’s house,” she announced to Ackerman. “His widow might know something.”

“You want to go to the house of the guy we robbed and killed? Awesome.”

Hange hummed, letting her eyes linger on Ackerman’s bored face. There was a question that’s been bugging her for a long time now, ever since she learnt about his true identity. They weren’t in a hurry yet, so she decided to take another moment to satisfy her curiosity. “That guy… were you the one who killed him?”

Ackerman stared back at her, his eyes surprisingly honest. “Would it make you feel better if I tell you that my uncle did it?”

Would it make her feel better to know that he was just a thief, and not a murderer? Maybe. Or, maybe not. Hange wasn’t sure what feeling this knowledge would provoke. These days, she wasn’t sure what to feel at all. The only feeling she was certain of was the exhaustion.

“Back at the museum…” perhaps, bringing this up was unreasonable. Perhaps, completely unnecessary. But she had been thinking about it, a lot. She had already formulated an explanation. Now she wanted to hear Ackerman’s reasoning, and see if the two versions were compatible in any way. “I know you weren’t the one who shot me, your uncle is much taller. When he raised that gun, he was aiming at my head, I could see it clearly,” she laughed, the sound too broken to be genuine. “I thought I was already done for, so why…”

“Why what, four-eyes?” Ackerman snapped. “Why did I stop him? Do you actually not know?”

Ackerman was staring right at her, his impassive mask slipping to reveal his anger and… frustration? Hange couldn’t clearly interpret the look in his eyes, not when she was so confused herself. She swallowed heavily, her heart pounding as she struggled to look away. Ackerman’s gaze… was burning.

“I wouldn’t have let Kenny kill you. I couldn’t bear the thought,” he said, his voice raw. He took a step towards her, and, subconsciously, Hange took a step away from him, her back now pressed against the wall. Despite their height difference, Levi seemed to loom over her, his eyes brimming with feeling. The feeling of… what? Hange didn’t know if she wished to know the answer. “Do you actually not understand why I did it?”

Ackerman was wrong. She did understand. She had him figured out, all thanks to dark, long and sleepless nights.

“You still needed me, right? That was your reason? I was still useful to you, that’s why—”

“Useful?”

Hange flinched at his tone. There was no protest there, no anger. His voice was thick with pain. Her eyes widened at the realization.

“What did I use you for, Hange?” he grabbed the lapels of her coat, roughly pulling her close to him. His breath was hot on her skin, and his fists were clenched so tightly she could almost hear the sound of the coat’s fabric ripping. “What did I ever use you for? Did I steal something from you? Did I get some piece of information out of you? You gave me the keys to your damn office, I held your shitty notebook in my hands, and did I use it?”

In the face of his outrage, Hange felt numb. She didn’t try to push him away, felt too weak to escape from him. She could only stare helplessly at him, feeling small and insignificant. Feeling like she had missed something vital, a central piece of the puzzle.

“I don’t know,” she murmured. “I didn’t check, perhaps you did take something—”

He breathed a curse into her face, his eyes a liquid fire. Just as suddenly as he had grabbed her, Levi let her go.

His back was now facing her, as he stared out of the window, his breathing loud and irregular.

“You can think whatever you want about me,” he said, deadly quiet. “You can think that I am a liar, a thief and a scumbag. But I didn’t use you Hange. It was never my intention. And if you really don’t know why I didn’t let you die, then you’re a shitty fucking detective. No wonder you couldn’t catch us.”

He stormed out of the room a second after, leaving Hange to stare incredulously after him.

His words, his touch, his eyes, it weighted down on her. They made it hard to breathe.

The places where Levi had touched her were burning, his words were still ringing in her ears and she couldn’t quite shake off the image of his eyes, his stare furious, but simultaneously hurt.

She was hoping to gain some clearance, hoping to deal with one of the many mysteries of her life. But now she was even more confused.

She took one deep breath after another, clutching at her chest. What the heck had just happened? What was Levi so worked about, what was he— it was another lie of his, another act, it had to be, Hange at last decided. What else it could be? Levi, no, Ackerman, he couldn’t really speak the truth just now? Because if that was the truth, then—

The loud bang of the closing door snapped Hange out of her reverie.

She was being naïve and foolish, again.

She was letting him get into her head, she was allowing him to fool her once more. But she wouldn’t let him do it, not after everything she had gone through.

She also couldn’t let him distract her from the case. Be her name Krista or Historia, but that girl needed to be saved. Hange had to save her.

And she wouldn’t be able to find her if she continued to stare numbly at the wall.

Hange shook her head, pushed the hair back from her face and fixed the lapels of her coat. She had no time for confusing feelings, she had to get back to work.

She was fully intent on doing that, until she remembered what had helped her get her focus back. The front door was thrown closed…

Hange shrieked, her hands flying to her head. Ackerman! He had escaped!

With a lightning speed, she rushed out of the room and out of the apartment. She took two stairs at the time, hurrying to get to the bottom of the stairwell. Her mind worked just as fast as her legs, as Hange tried to predict what direction Ackerman would take. Where would he go? Would she be able to find him? Should she even find him, after everything that just transpired?

By the time, she reached the exit of the apartment complex and tumbled out on a street, Hange was completely out of breath. She took a fleeting second, doubling over in an attempt to stop her lungs from burning out. Shit, she was getting too old for this kind of thing.

With her breathes still coming out way too rapidly, Hange slowly straightened out. Left or right? Which direction Ackerman would take? Maybe, if she was lucky, she’d catch him before he ran away.

But as Hange turned her gaze to her left, she was surprised to see that the escaped criminal… didn’t actually escape. He was standing right next to her, lazily smoking a cigarette.

“I thought you had a girl to save, detective?” he asked in a bored, indifferent voice.

Hange hated how good he was at concealing what was going on inside him. She was still shaking.

She also hated how attractive the damn bastard was, especially while smoking.

But Ackerman was right. There was a girl, and she needed to be saved.

Hange shrugged, adopting a more confident stance. She couldn’t let him know she was worried that he left. Or how handsome she thought he was. She had embarrassed herself plenty already.

So with a determined face, Hange lifted an arm, hailing a taxi.

There was no time for feelings. Not when there was work needed to be done.

***

The time they’ve spent in taxi was spent in silence.

Hange was looking out of the window, stubbornly refusing to even look in his direction. Levi himself was staring at his knees, lost to his own thoughts.

There was a lot he had to think about, the main focus, of course, was on Kenny and his involvement with Reiss and his new-found daughter.

Levi had kept a faint hope that when they got to their apartment, Kenny would be there, laying on a coach with a cigarette in one hand and a bottle of beer in another. Until the very end, he hoped that this whole ordeal with kidnapping and letters from Kenny the Reaper was a result of a weird coincidence.

Unfortunately, his hope was crushed without mercy.

Kenny wasn’t at home, and what’s more, the state of their apartment frightened Levi. Kenny wasn’t as obsessed with cleanliness as him, but he had never created such messes either. At least, it had never happened during all these years they’ve lived together. Was the mess caused by the fact that Levi had left? Or was Kenny truly going crazy?

If he decided to kidnap a girl, Reiss’ daughter, and then run off to god knows where, then he was definitely not quite right in his head.

But that wasn’t the only thing occupying Levi’s mind. Ashamed as he was to admit it, Kenny wasn’t in his thoughts nearly as often as was Hange.

Their fight back at his apartment was, for the lack of better word, a complete disaster. He made a mistake, he shouldn’t have lost his cool, he shouldn’t have admitted the things Hange didn’t have to know.

For fuck’s sake, he practically admitted that he was smitten with her. Worse yet, he almost admitted just how far he was willing to go not to hurt her. It was dangerous and it was foolish. Luckily, Hange wasn’t too interested in listening to what he had to say.

And still, the things that she had said hurt him. More than Levi was ready to admit.

She really lost all trust in him, didn’t she? Perhaps, this outcome was not at all surprising, but… painful nevertheless.

Levi stole a glance at Hange - she wasn’t looking back at him. So he allowed himself to admire her profile. Her bright, brown eyes, that hawkish nose, those enticing lips… He sighed, tearing his gaze away.

Coming here was certainly a mistake, he could have hid a little better, could have tried to run from Hange for the second time. He could have done so much more, could have at least attempted to not get caught in all of this.

Too late for any regrets now, he thought bitterly. Besides, it wasn’t like he had come here for Hange, right? He had to get Kenny out of whatever shit he had involved himself into this time.

Kenny, he was there for Kenny. For him and him only.

He had to repeat this to himself a couple of times more, because with Hange sitting so close to him, with their thighs slightly touching in the backseat of the taxi, it was hard to remember his main and initial goal. With Hange so close, it was getting hard to focus at all.

He had to think of something else.

Levi looked out of the window, watched the streets they passed by. They were getting close. Close to the house of the man he murdered.

Levi gulped. Perhaps, the idea to focus on something else wasn’t as sound as it seemed at first.

Another train of thought then. He turned to look at Hange again.

He couldn’t think about her, but there was the matter of their case. He could try and pay attention to it.

“You mentioned that the girl is missing for almost a week. Why are you the only one who’s working on finding her then? Aren’t these types of cases supposed to be…” he waved his hand around, gesturing uncertainly. “Especially time-sensitive?”

Hange sighed, showing just how stressed she truly was. “They usually are time-sensitive. But… thing is… no one actually cares if I solve this case or not.”

“Do you mean—”

“Yes. Krista, or, well,” she winced, “Historia, doesn’t have a family. She doesn’t seem to have any friends either. We received the tip about her disappearance from a fucking anonymous call. No one even noticed that she is gone. I talked with the students at her college, and some seemed sympathetic, some even mildly worried about her well-being, but no one actually cared about her. No one truly knew her too, at least, no one knew her well enough. As I asked about Krista, I got the same answer. She was kind, always ready to help. She was attentive and diligent during classes. And that world ‘was’,” Hange shook her head, her palms clenching into fists. “It seemed like everyone had already accepted that she was gone for good.”

Hange sounded so sad, so frustrated, Levi desperately wished to give her what little comfort that he could. He understood now, why she was so determined to find that missing girl and bring her home.

It was good to know that people like Hange existed. People, who would do their best to try and help someone else.

Levi could be that girl, he realized. If he went missing and Kenny wasn’t there to find him, no one would care to help him. If something like that ever happened to him, he could only hope to come across a person, who would be as selfless and kind as Hange.

If there were more people like her, perhaps, his life wouldn’t be so miserable. Perhaps, he’d be a different person.

But pondering on it was pointless now. He was who was he was. For the better or worse, Hange was who she was too.

“So no one is pushing you to hurry?” Levi glanced at her beneath his fridge. “Then what was that shit about? When you ran out of my apartment, red in face and panting like a dog?”

“Oi,” Hange slapped his knee. “Fuck you.”

“Fuck me?” Levi raised his eyebrow, remembering their first conversation. “Aren’t we moving a little too fast?”

“Shut up,” she grumbled, turning her face away. Just before she did, Levi saw the red on her cheeks.

Hange blushed. Hange, the hot-shot detective and a huge pain in the ass, had actually blushed after his stupid joke.

Well… now Levi had something to be proud of.

“I just thought—” she huffed, moving hair from her face. “It doesn’t matter what I thought, but… thanks for not running away. I… appreciate it. Looking for you would be a large inconvenience,” she gave him a side-glance, her lips twitching. “Thanks for not creating even more problems for me, I guess.”

And who said that Hange wasn’t a paragon of politeness? Levi almost felt good about himself. He almost thought that things between them were… not as disastrous as they actually were.

“We are almost there,” Hange announced, nervously tapping fingers against her thigh.

The bubble busted. There was no time to fool around. There was no time for playful banter and witty back and forth. There was no time to… appreciate that bright sparkle in Hange’s eyes.

Levi nodded, acknowledging her words, but remained speechless. What was there to say? He was going to the house that belonged to a man his uncle had killed right in front of his own eyes. And he was going there willingly. God, his life was just a string of one fucked up shitty event after another.

Hopefully, this visit would help him learn more about Kenny’s new job and, maybe, even find Kenny himself.

Hope… that’s all he had these days.

The taxi took a turn and drove up to the tall, black gates. Levi remembered climbing over it during that awful night two months ago.

This time, he wasn’t climbing over it.

Hange got out of the taxi, just as they approached the front gates. She spoke through the intercom, requesting entrance. After a long moment, the gates slowly opened and the taxi drove inside, bringing them to the large doors.

Front doors. Last time Levi was getting inside through the back door. Well, another improvement. Another sign that this visit, hopefully, wouldn’t end so horribly.

Hange paid the taxi driver and told him not to wait for them. Together they exited the car.

As they walked to the door, she leaned in to him and whispered, “It’d be best if you don’t tell the grieving widow that your uncle killer her husband.”

“I’m not an idiot, four-eyes.”

Hange chuckled and lifted her arms, palms-up. “I’m just saying. I don’t think she’s eager to meet us as it is.”

When the front door had finally opened, they were met by a butler. A fucking butler, dressed in a suit and tie and with glasses on his face. Levi stared at him, incredulously.

Killing people in general went against Levi’s principles, and killing the owner of this house in particular was obviously wrong, but stealing from him? Perhaps, he and Kenny should have also taken a few paintings.

“Good day,” Hange smiled – to Levi the expression seemed a little forced. “I’m detective Zoe and I wanted to—”

“I know,” the butler bowed his head, gesturing for them to follow him. “The Lady asked me to bring you to her office.”

The Lady? It took all of Levi’s willpower not to scoff. Rich people were ridiculous. That’s why he preferred to steal from them. Served those fuckers right.

The butler led them through a big, brightly lit hall, up the majestic stairwell, through a row of ugly paintings, and finally they stood before a brown oak door.

“The Lady is inside,” the butler said, taking a step back. “I’ll bring tea in just a few minutes. Now if you’ll excuse me…”

Hange waved her hand, obviously not interested in his false politeness. She threw the door open, walking inside without waiting for the invitation. So that was detective Hange at work? Levi watched her, hiding his amused expression.

“Sorry that we didn’t give you a heads-up,” she spoke to the woman that was sitting behind a long, mahogany desk. Suddenly Levi realized it was the same room, where Kenny had killed a man. Suddenly he realized that he was staring at the face of a woman, who had lost a husband because of him and Kenny. Avoiding the widow’s gaze, he did his best to hide behind Hange. “But there’s something we wanted to discuss.”

“Did you find my husband’s killer?”

No, but I'm his nephew and I was there when your husband had died, Levi almost blurted out. But Hange had warned him. So he wisely kept his mouth shut.

“No,” Hange walked further inside, plopping down on a chair. Much more humbly, Levi did the same. “But we think your husband is related to our other case. So we were wondering if we can ask you a few questions?”

“Who are we?” the widow arched her perfectly thin eyebrow. “Last time we spoke, I didn’t remember you having an assistant.”

Hange’s smile became strained. “That’s, um, Levi,” she gestured at him. “My, well, he’s sort of my partner.”

“A partner, huh?”

“He helps me with the case,” Hange answered vaguely. “Now about our questions…”

The widow arrogantly waved her hand, allowing Hange to continue. “Just be quick about this. After my husband’s death, I have a lot of work on my hands.”

And all of it because of him and Kenny. Great. Levi sat lower in his seat.

“I remember you mentioning…” Hange took out her notebook, Levi cringed at the sight of it. As he watched her shift through it, he briefly wondered if that note he had left for her was still there. Did she tear it out, rip into pieces and then burn the rest? Or did she… leave it there, so she could stare at it whenever she felt especially angry? Levi wasn’t sure which option was more preferable and which one would make him feel more sad. Meanwhile, Hange continued, “A girl who visited your husband. Do you remember what she looked like? Can you describe her to us?”

The widow scrunched her nose, clearly displeased. She reached to the desk’s drawer, taking out a pack of cigarettes. She opened it, putting a cigarette in between her lips. “If you don’t mind,” she mumbled, flicking up a lighter. The widow took one long drag, letting the smoke curl up towards the ceiling. She lazily traced its movement, then, when the smoke had dissipated into nothing, she spoke, “I saw her only once, she was leaving our house late in the evening. It was dark and I didn’t get a good look on her face, but I remember that she was tall,” she squinted, looking at Hange. “Slightly taller than you. Had brown hair, gathered in a low ponytail. Her clothes were baggy, and, overall, she looked just like…”

“Like what?” Levi snappily required. “Like a criminal?”

“Well, yes,” the widow agreed, throwing the ash off her cigarette. “I think she was doing some shady work for my husband.”

“Do you by any chance have a way to contact her?” Hange asked. “A phone number or a home address…”

“And why do you need it?” the widow looked at them skeptically.

“Classified information,” Hange smoothly replied. “But it’s for the greater good, believe me.”

The widow huffed, obviously not buying it. But she put the cigarette down and reached for the drawer again.

“I don’t know if that will be of any help, but,” she rummaged through the drawer, taking out a yellow envelope. “I found this when I was looking through my husband’s things. He must have destroyed the letter that was inside it, but there is the sender’s address on the back, so…”

“Thank you for your time,” Hange spoke sincerely, snatching the envelope from the widow’s hands. “You really helped us. A lot. You might have even saved a young girl’s life.”

“Whatever,” the widow rolled her eyes. “Just get out of here already. I have the work I need to do.”

“Thank you,” Hange repeated, rising to her feet. “Have a nice day.”

“And…” the widow hesitated. “Good luck with your case. I hope you do better this time.”

The smile on Hange’s face faltered, but didn’t disappear. “I’ll do my best,” she promised, before walking out of the room.

Throwing a quick last glance at the widow, Levi dutifully followed.

***

The address on the envelope led them to the worst part of their city. To the streets that were filled with garbage, where the walls had paint falling off and most windows stood completely smashed.

Hange in her fancy light brown coat looked starkly out of place. Perhaps, Ackerman was right about her having too much privilege. Right now, the contrast between her and the more unfortunate ones were sharp as ever. Although, Ackerman’s attire wasn’t that humble either.

Hange stepped a little closer to him, in a futile attempt to hide from the unfriendly gazes that followed after her ever since they stepped into this part of the city.

“I’m surprised you’ve agreed to come here,” she spoke to him in a quiet voice, “Since I know how much of a clean freak you are.”

The look Ackerman gave her could probably freeze someone to death. “I wasn’t always living in a nice and neat apartment, four-eyes. People like me usually come from the places like that.”

Hange’s eyes widened at the realization. She glanced at the man beside her, tilted her head to study him more intently. It was hard to imagine sharp-dressed and clean-shaved Ackerman, or younger Levi living in a place like that, walking through the dirty streets with broken windows. He came a long way, it seemed. Hange was amazed at his perseverance.

“I think this is the right house,” she pointed at the grey four-story building. Hange took out the envelope, checked the address again. “Yes, this is it.”

Wordlessly, Ackerman started walking in that direction. Hange caught him just before he pushed the front door open.

“Shouldn’t we, like, knock?” she asked, doing a poor job at hiding her nervousness.

Ackerman just rolled his eyes. “Don’t be an idiot,” he scolded, adding a quiet ‘tch’. “There are several apartments here. You’re not trespassing on someone’s private property yet.”

“Oh, alright,” Hange mumbled, letting him open the door and following him inside.

The inside of the building… was dirty. There were bags of trash lying around, shards of broken glass and half-shattered empty bottles. The house wasn’t silent too, from somewhere deep inside the building a child’s wailing was heard. It was accompanied by the sounds of a fighting. Or, maybe, extremely passionate love-making. Hange desperately hoped it was the latter.

“We need to go to the basement,” she said to Ackerman, trying her best to sound nonchalant and confident.

“Basement?” he repeated incredulously. “Is the address actually pointing to a basement? Are we looking for a vampire?”

“I don’t know who we’re looking for. But here,” she thrusted the envelope to him. “You can check it for yourself.”

He pushed her hand away. “I’ll trust you on that one.”

They made their way down the stairs in silence. Not wanting to see something that wasn’t meant for the police officer’s eyes, Hange kept her gaze focused on Ackerman’s face. Unsurprisingly, his expression was indifferent. But his breaths were coming out more raged than usual and he was walking with his head bowed low.

Compared to his regular level of emotionlessness, Ackerman seemed almost overly distressed.

Was this place affecting him so much? He had hinted at his not so happy childhood before. Were bad memories the reason for his emotional state right now?

Hange placed a hand on his shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Ackerman, listen…”

Roughly, he slapped her hand away. “I’m fine, four-eyes. Focus on the task at hand.”

She stared at him, affronted. Here she was trying to— what was she trying to do? To comfort him? Because she was worried about him? Hange conceded. Perhaps, Ackerman had every right to scold her. She was losing her focus. She couldn’t allow herself that.

As they climbed to the end of the stairs, Hange looked around, searching for an apartment 009. It stood just at the end of the hallway, and without hesitation she marched right there.

She knocked, quite forcefully. And received no answer. She huffed, ignoring Ackerman’s amused gaze, and knocked again. Again, there was no answer.

Hange put her ear closer to the door, listening to any signs of life inside. There was… nothing.

“I think no one is at home,” she announced mournfully to Ackerman. “Perhaps, we can come back later…”

“Or we can stop wasting precious time,” he rolled his eyes. “Move your ass, four-eyes, I’ll get us inside.”

Ackerman went down on his knees before the door, searching for something in the pocket of his jacket.

It took Hange a long moment to realize what he was about to do. As soon as that realization kicked in, however, she rushed to pull Ackerman away from that door.

“What are you doing?” she cried out. “Ackerman, it’s illegal!”

He gave her a pointed look. “I’m a criminal, remember?”

“I’m not! I can’t let you break inside someone’s house, I’m a police officer!”

“And can you let a young girl suffer? My uncle is an impatient man, if she pissed him off…”

“Don’t joke about it!” Hange scolded. Fuck, she didn’t know what to do. On one hand, she couldn’t let Ackerman just break into someone’s house. On the other, she couldn’t really waste any more time.

“You can look the other way, four-eyes,” Ackerman proposed, his voice an octave softer. “I won’t tell anyone.”

Damn it, Hange couldn’t believe what she was about to do. Ackerman and his damn influence, if Erwin ever finds out…

She sighed, surrendering, and turned away from that door. “Do your thing already,” she urged. “I’ll be… on a look-out. Or whatever you people say.”

“You people?” he repeated teasingly. “What kind of people?”

Hange could practically hear the laughter in his voice. Well, at least, someone was enjoying himself.

“Criminals,” she gritted.

“Just don’t forget that it’s a nasty criminal,” he said, “That helps you solve this case.”

Gods, what a fucker. But he was right. He was helping her. For his own reasons, sure, but even so, Hange was working with him for merely a day, and already she accomplished so much. Perhaps, after all of that mess was over, she could even thank him.

If he wouldn’t give her another reason to hate him.

Ackerman dealt with the door just in mere seconds. Hange didn’t know that it was possible to break the locks so swiftly. He surely was talented.

“Wow, you really are good at it,” she marveled under her breath.

“Figures why you couldn’t catch us, eh?”

So he was not only a fucker, but a cocky one as well. Hange shouldn’t have found that trait of his attractive. He lied to her, for god’s sake. But she had to admit – he looked damn good while doing it.

Ackerman opened the door and let Hange go in first. She did, a bit precautiously.

The first thing she noticed was, of course, the absence of the light. Outside the afternoon sun was shining brightly, painting everything in warm orange colors, but here, in the basement, it was dark as ever. Distinctively, Hange could hear the sound of the pipes leaking, the steady drop, drop, drop that set her just a little further up on edge.

She blindly searched for the switch on the wall. As soon as she had found it, a lone lightbulb filled the room with faint light.

Apart from that, the interior of the apartment wasn’t so different from the interior of the whole building. It was in similar bad shape, with torn wallpapers and leaking ceilings. But, surprisingly, the apartment also seemed strangely empty, like whoever was living there didn’t actually consider it their home.

As Hange looked around, she found nothing personal there, no photographs or postcards or any other kind of trinkets people usually treasured.

There were some clothes thrown here and there, but that was about it. The rest of the apartment was disappointingly empty.

“I don’t think we’ll be able to find something here,” Ackerman said, as he walked inside beside her.

Truthfully, Hange was of the same opinion. But they came here. They broke inside. She wouldn’t leave until she finds at least something remotely useful.

“Let’s look around,” she said, deciding to start with the kitchen.

Unfortunately, there was nothing useful in the kitchen. The only thing Hange found was the insane amount of instant noodles and cheap beer.

No clues were found inside the living room as well. She looked under the dusty old couch and the rug, behind the shattered TV-screen and the wardrobe. But she found nothing.

Met with the absence of the clues and Ackerman’s increasing impatience, Hange was starting to get desperate.

“We’ll find something,” she murmured, to assure both Ackerman and herself.

He simply clicked his tongue. “I searched the bedroom already. I didn’t find anything that might be of some interest.”

“I’ll go and have another look,” Hange stubbornly pushed past him. “Perhaps, you missed something.”

“Or, perhaps,” he countered, his voice laced with venom. “This lead is a dead-end. And we’re just wasting our time.”

“Need I to remind you that this is the only lead we have? Because you’re unable to find your own uncle.”

Hange knew she had said the wrong thing as soon as the words had left her mouth. She didn’t mean it, not really. But she was frustrated. She was tired and lost, and Ackerman’s proximity and their shared history were making her even more stressed than she already was.

But all of it didn’t mean that Ackerman deserved her bitterness. Not in this moment, at least. Hange knew she was in the wrong, she wanted to take her words back, but then— then Ackerman decided to retaliate.

“And need I to remind you that the only reason I’m here is because you can’t solve this shitty case all by yourself. So stop accusing me of being useless when I’m helping you out of the kindness of my heart.”

“Out of the kindness of your heart?” Hange repeated, completely scandalized. She couldn’t believe that she was meaning to apologize to that shithead just moments ago. And he had the audacity— Gods, he infuriated her to no end. “You’re a fucking asshole, Ackerman. When you were lying to me like a total scumbag, were you doing it out of the kindness of your fucking heart as well?”

Ackerman was getting riled up to, his face became contorted with faint lines of anger. His hands clenched into fists, he took a step forward, breathing heavily. “Are you still going on about that thing, really? Yes, I lied to you, but I’m sure I’m not the only person in this life who did it. So can you just let it go already?”

“Let it go?” Hange felt like she was boiling, there was so much fury inside of her that it seemed like it was pouring out of her. She wanted to smash or break something, preferably Ackerman’s stupidly handsome face. “Are you seriously asking if I can let it go? Do you really not understand how much—” she faltered, choking on the hurricane of her emotions. “I trusted you, Levi, I believed you were a good man. For god’s sake, I was starting to develop f—”

Hange abruptly stopped herself. She was angry, true, she was overwhelmed as well. But she was not so lost as to reveal to him just what he truly made her feel. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing how good his lies were and how much they’ve hurt her.

After taking a deep breath, she risked a glance at Ackerman. He was staring right at her, wide-eyed and shocked and… was that sadness in his eyes?

Before Hange could decipher his expression, it changed again, became more cautious.

She blinked, and Ackerman was already moving, rapidly, in her direction. All out of sudden, he was standing right beside her, close enough for Hange to hear just how loudly his heart was beating.

Confused, she wanted to push him away, she meant to do it, but before she could react, Ackerman had her encircled in his arms. He pulled her to the side, and just as Hange was trying to get away, they swayed and tumbled. In a mess of limbs, both of them fell onto the ground.

No more than a second later, Hange heard a loud, sudden noise.

A noise she knew so well. A gunshot.

Confused and with her ears ringing, Hange tried to make sense of her surroundings. There was a gunshot, and she fell but she wasn’t on a ground. Ackerman was on the ground, and she was lying right on top of him. Hange stared at him, wide-eyed and shaken.

Their sudden close proximity made her thoughts move even slower.

Still in Ackerman’s embrace, she turned her head in the direction, where that gunshot had come from. A girl stood there, her gun raised and aimed at them.

How long had she been standing there? How in the world Hange hadn’t seen her enter?

The reason for her lack of caution was still beside her, holding her tightly to his chest.

It felt good to be so close to him, Hange felt so warm and safe—

“Get the fuck off me,” feeling her face burn, she pushed Ackerman away, and jumped up to her feet.

“That’s the thanks I get for saving your life,” he grumbled, standing up as well and dusting off his jacket. “And I did it for the second time, four-eyes.”

“Shut up,” Hange gritted, returning her attention to the girl who almost shot them both. She was tall and brown-haired. Could it be their mysterious lead?

“I’m terribly sorry to interrupt… whatever that was,” for a second the girl’s lips curled in a wicked smirk, but then she gripped the gun in her hands tighter, her finger going to the trigger. “But who the fuck are you and what are you doing in my house?”

Still slightly shaking from the whole ordeal, Hange’s fingers trembled as she took out her police badge, showing it to the girl. “I’m detective Hange Zoe, and I came to ask you some questions.”

The hand that held the gun didn’t lower. “Regarding?” the girl asked.

“Regarding Krista Lenz’s disappearance.”

The girl relaxed. The gun was tucked safely inside her leather jacket. “So the police have finally taken notice of that case? Took you long enough.”

“I’m hoping to rectify that mistake. And I hope I’ll be able to bring Krista home. What is your name?” Hange smiled and tentatively offered her hand for the girl to shake.

“Ymir,” just as cautiously, she shook Hange’s hand. “And Krista isn’t her real name, you know?”

“She is Historia, right?” the smile on Hange’s face widened, as she saw Ymir’s genuine surprise. “We found that bit of information already.”

“Seems like you’re a real deal then,” Ymir concluded with a nod. “I’ll share what I know with you. But,” she raised a finger. “I have a condition – you’ll let me join the investigation.”

Their crew was rapidly growing, and two-thirds were presented by criminals, Hange thought grimly. Well, she was ready to do anything to bring Historia home. It seemed like she would have to stick to her own promise.

Just when Hange was ready to accept Ymir and her proposition, Ackerman took a step forwards. His eyes were narrowed to slits as he glared at their new companion.

“And what guarantee we have that we can trust you?”

“You have no guarantee,” Ymir replied, staring down at him. “But as long as our goals align and as long as you promise not to hurt Historia, I promise not to betray you.”

Ah, so their crew was rapidly growing and they couldn’t really trust each other. A recipe for a horrible disaster, but… Hange had no other options.

She clasped Ymir’s shoulder, giving her the most convincing of her smiles. “Welcome aboard then. What have you managed to find out?”

Ymir grinned and turned around, gesturing for them to follow. “Probably much more than you did. Come with me, I’ll show it to you.”

#the quote from community perfectly summarises this chapter #'i think you two like to partner up on cutesy capers so you can hold hands in the dark and address your urges in semi-acceptable scenarios'#nothing else in this chapter but this!#levihan

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nancylou444 · 3 years

Text

I tried to be nice

Replies to this post:

------------------------

Became this:

THEM: hi! thanks for the answers I really appreciate the discussion. normally if someone ships something I don’t like or something like that, I’ll just leave them alone but.. just to be clear I completely respect all of your opinions, even agree with some of them, even if we might disagree on the incest and Castiel haha. So I don’t mean any disrespect with this at all, please let me know if I’m out of line though!

But... I saw some things you said, and they come across to me in a way that I don’t think you intended? I feel really awkward sending this haha, you’re very nice and I don’t think you said anything on purpose, but I just.. wanted to let you know that some of the things regarding your opinion on certain characters come across not very well? I don’t think it’s intentional or anything, and I don’t mean to call you out at all which is why I didn’t want to point it out in the replies y’know?

Don’t get me wrong though, there’s absolutely nothing wrong with not liking castiel or destiel. I’ve been watching the show for a while with my dad, and he isn’t a huge fan either, I don’t think that’s a problem :)

I’d continue without waiting for a response but I don’t want to say something you’ve already been told, or continue without knowing if I’ve said something out of line already 😅

ME: I'm kind of distracted dealing with my Mom's rehab center. But you can keep going.

THEM: Alright! I’ve tried rephrasing this a million times but I don’t know how to make it seem not antagonistic. I promise I don’t mean that you’re doing it intentionally, it’s just, uh a lot of your criticism of spn feels like it could be read as homophobic? Again I don’t think YOU are I just wanted you to know it kind of reads that way!

That sounded so confrontational. I really don’t mean it that way 😭

ME: HOMOPHOBIC? Really? A lot of the 'proof' your fellow shippers use border on stereotypes but you think I'M homophobic? Considering my top two ships are Wincest and Malec. Yeah, sounds confrontational.

THEM: I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. I guess there’s no other way to say it, but I understand why you feel accused. What do you mean by proof..?

Also I don’t really think having gay ships means you can’t be homophobic. *I* used to be homophobic years ago, and I’m a gay person!

ME: How old are you? https://nancylou444.tumblr.com/post/154098904136/a-guide-to-dean-winchesters-imaginary-bisexuality

THEM: yeah this is starting to get frustrating. I’m gonna be real with you, why does it matter if people think dean is bisexual? like, bottom line, that is my question for you

and your answer will determine if your veracity is homophobic. why does it matter that some people think dean is bisexual. not the fans or actors or writers or anything. why does it matter that some viewers will watch, and they will think dean is bisexual?

ME: My problem isn't that some people think he is bi IN FANON, my problem is that they want CONFIRMATION OF A FANON SHIP. And that some people DENY how the show ended. These same people think that fake weddings are more canon than the FINAL EPISODE.

THEM: I get what you mean, but how is it a fanon ship when it’s confirmed romantic from one side, and interpretable as mutually reciprocated in Latin America? (I’m going to disregard the bit about the wedding, because I’m a firm believer in Neil Gaiman variety death of the author. Also that’s just people having fun with fanon, who cares?)

ME: Confirmed romantic?By whom MISHA, who wanted to sell necklaces? Have you never said 'i love you' to a FRIEND or FAMILY member? The dub is not canon, so don't even try using that as proof. Death of the author is just another way of saying MY VIEW OF THE SHOW IS SUPERIOR TO HOW THE CREATOR WANTS TO SEE IT. Jensen has said many times that the ship isn't canon and that Dean is straight. But it's better to believe what Misha says because he agrees with you. You think somebody is bi because of how they sit or the color clothes they wear? That would make YOU homophobe.

THEM: LOL You know what? I change my answer. I looked through your blog and you ACTIVELY and viscously hate Cas, Charlie, Claire, Kaia and the implication that Jack may not be straight. You’ve said Cas coming out as gay and in love with dean makes the rest of his actions predatory, compared him to a teenage girl, called him creepy, and openly rejoiced in your idea that dean looked ‘disgusted with him’. You said that Claire is awful, that Kaia is a wooden plank, that they ‘shoved them together’ for ‘woke points’ and said that Jody saying Claire was IN LOVE WITH Kaia ‘doesnt count’ and called it ‘lip service’. And it doesn’t end there! After all this, you said that you preferred the old better s4 Claire. Is it because she was ostensibly straight? Are you uncomfortable with queer women? And then you have the audacity to use these characters (Claire and Kaia and Charlie) as reasons to epicly own the Hellers and claim they already have represention. You are a completely disingenuous bitch and I don’t care to be nice to you anymore! I don’t feel AT ALL charitable toward you anymore, and I don’t care if you have gay ships. Gay people aren’t here for you to fetishize! You CONSTANTLY mock and ridicule jokes made by queer people regarding deans bisexuality or Cas being gay or any number of things. You constantly reaffirm that Dean is straight and call people who think otherwise delusional and disgusting, while you think dean is in romantic sexual love with his male sibling. You are openly hostile to the idea of non-binary jack and were pissed that Alcal endorsed that. You devalue Jack’s value and relationship to Cas who is, textually, his father figure. I have NO reason not to think that you are homophobic. I don’t care anymore! You’re a huge bitch and, judging by your prior responses and posts, a genuine dialogue regarding queerness in spn is impossible. You regard any instance of canonically queer moments ‘lip service’ and so regard it. You actively hate every canonically gay character and degrade them using traditionally homophobic tropes and stereotypes.

Feel free to explain how you aren’t homophobic. I’m so sorry if I got the wrong impression.

ME: Wow I see your true colors have come out HELLER.

THEM: Idc if you think I’m mean. Go ahead and make a post about me lol, have fun with it. Give me a moment to respond to your paragraph it’s... a lot to dissect.

I’ll touch on your comments about the dub and the Spanish language in a moment. First though

I ’m gonna be real with you, I don’t think you know what death of the author is. Neil Gaiman’s variety of the dead author principal is that once canon ends, the story belongs to those that consume and engage with it. That’s... also literally the theme of supernaturals final season. Anyway I really recommend you read up on death of the author and Neil Gaiman’s takes on fanon. It’s a fun way to consume your media, and in the end that’s what I’m here for.

I don’t care what Misha says, and I don’t care what Jensen says! I think they are both queer because I have eyes and watched the show. I think it’s a lovely narrative that is supported by canon, and it’s fine if you disagree with that

On your last sentence there... lol. It’s a common joke in queer circles that gays can’t sit properly, specifically bisexuals. Same thing with the clothing, it’s a SUPER common joke for example that lesbians wear flannel. Maybe you need to go outside and talk to some normal, non-incest shipping queer people. But what do I know!

And finally... ‘the Spanish dub isnt canon’

I am literally cuban. My first language is SPANISH. my entire household speaks Spanish, and my family past 1st cousins don’t speak any English. My Boricua cousins have watched supernatural in full for years, and they watch it in Spanish. Do you think America is the center of the universe? Do you think our media is somehow less than yours, that our interpretations of English language media isn’t valid? What, do you think we are idiots who don’t know how to analyze literature and media? Do you think the people who work at Telemundo, people employed as dubbers and translators, you think they do a worse job than the American crew?

Why, because they aren’t American or don’t speak English? ‘Te amo’ said to a non family member is, in 99% of any instance, ROMANTIC. it’s something you say to your spouse in serious situations like weddings!! Even MARRIED people don’t normally say te amo, everyone uses te quiero unless it is very serious or romantic in context.

All of my family who are Spanish language, they heard dean say ‘y a yo ti, cas’ and think that they were in romantic love. Sorry dude! The United States might be the center of your universe, but Latin America is HUGE. Spanish is one of the most spoken languages in the WORLD. In fact, more people speak Spanish than English. Sorry that you seem to hate gay characters SO MUCH you have to say an entire language somehow isn’t valid to consume media in!

ME:

Obviously this heller is batshit crazy.

Some of those things she thinks I said just show she has no idea how to follow a tumblr thread.

You are a completely disingenuous bitch and I don’t care to be nice to you anymore! I don’t feel AT ALL charitable toward you anymore, and I don’t care if you have gay ships. Gay people aren’t here for you to fetishize! You CONSTANTLY mock and ridicule jokes made by queer people regarding deans bisexuality or Cas being gay or any number of things. You constantly reaffirm that Dean is straight and call people who think otherwise delusional and disgusting, while you think dean is in romantic sexual love with his male sibling.

Wow.

I have NO reason not to think that you are homophobic. I don’t care anymore! You’re a huge bitch and, judging by your prior responses and posts, a genuine dialogue regarding queerness in spn is impossible. You regard any instance of canonically queer moments ‘lip service’ and so regard it. You actively hate every canonically gay character and degrade them using traditionally homophobic tropes and stereotypes.

Where have I hated canon gay characters and degraded them using tropes and stereotypes? The bitch has me confused with HER FELLOW SHIPPERS.

Gotta love how she is defending the Spanish dub. Hit a nerve did I?

It’s a common joke in queer circles that gays can’t sit properly, specifically bisexuals. Same thing with the clothing, it’s a SUPER common joke for example that lesbians wear flannel. Maybe you need to go outside and talk to some normal, non-incest shipping queer people.

Now who is using stereotypes?

#destiehellers #batshit crazy #your headcanon doesn't mean shit dean is straight #dub doesn't make it canon

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stardustryewriting · 3 years

Text

It’s weird

Synopsis: Drunk Zoro and mildly drunk Sanji have a conversation, that sober Sanji can’t seem to shake from his mind. It’s all weird, after all.

Also on A03: here

Sanji would say, he wasn’t sure what caused this. But that would a lie. He knew what caused this, he just didn’t think that that little thing - that happened two years ago by now - would still be relevant at this point. And okay, maybe calling it a ‚little thing‘ was a bit of an understatement, considering Kuma was a warlord but still. No need to bring it up again, really.

And to be fair to Zoro, he didn’t exactly bring it up, per se. He just had drank too much. And then admitted that he was worried sick about Sanji while he was in the hands of Big Mom. Which he wasn’t, he was in the hands of Judge and the Germa, thank you very much. But also, Zoro had used his name and not Cook, or some other insult. (Not that Sanji considered ‚Cook’ an insult, Zoro just had a very insulting way of saying it.) So Sanji was willing to take it as a compliment, instead of as the start of an argument like he usually did. He reassured Zoro that he was fine, and wouldn’t leave the crew again and that should have been it. But it was’t.

„You don’t get it“, Zoro had slurred and in retrospect, the slurring should have been a sign to end the conversation before it got out of hand. Zoro always drank so much, that slurring indicated he consumed an insane amount of whatever alcohol they had. (Sake, it was usually Sake.) And if it went to his head that much already, maybe having a conversation was a bad idea. But Sanji had some alcohol too - not as much as Zoro or he would be dead - so he did the stupid thing instead.

„What don’t I get?“, he inquired, and that was really the beginning of the end.

„I care about you. I wouldn’t fight with you all the time if I didn’t. You’re important to the crew, too. A great cook, food always tastes good. Shouldn’t have left in the first place. Would’ve kicked Big Mom’s ass, for sure.“

Rambling proved to be an even greater red flag than slurring. Zoro never rambled, Sanji should’ve been skeptical. Just as he never said nice things about Sanji. Or used his name. This whole evening was very surreal. And if Sanji had been the master of his senses, he would have stood up and went to bed, before it escalated. Maybe he could have poked fun at Zoro the next morning, and they could have fought it out, like they always did. That would’ve been funnier, at least.

„I care about you, too“, he said instead. It wasn’t a lie even though he always thought he would die before he said it out loud. (He did almost die at Whole Cake Island, but he willingly chose to ignore that.) But then he thought hell would open up and take Zoro down, before the swordsman would admit he cared for Sanji, and that didn’t happen either. Alcohol made their heart to heart somewhat more honest and way more uncomfortable. At least from a sober perspective.

„Nah, not like that“, Zoro disagreed. Thinking back on it sober - not that Sanji was even nearly as hammered as Zoro had been - this was where everything went down the drain. And he would love to blame it on Zoro exclusively but he couldn’t. Zoro might have opened Pandora’s Box, but Sanji was stupid enough to look inside, instead of slamming it shut, like he should have.

„Sure I do“, he argued, „I care about you same I care about Luffy and any other crewmate. I wouldn’t regularly stock up on Sake if I didn’t.“

And that was it for Sanji. But it wasn’t it for Zoro.

„You don’t care like you care about Nami and Robin“, he mumbled. Zoro had actually mumbled. And that was so much more out of character than the slurring or the rambling that at first, the meaning of the sentence didn’t fully hit Sanji.

But when it hit, it hit hard. Hard enough to make him choke.

And then, because maybe he really was the weak, sentimental fool Judge always thought he was, he said: „But I do. I would’ve died to protect you from Kuma. I don’t think I ever worried about someone more than I worried about you that day.“

Which wasn’t a lie. At least that was good. Or maybe it would have been better if it was a lie. Maybe then Sanji wouldn’t have been as confused and Zoro could have made a joke about it the next day. And then Sanji would have made a joke back and they would have fought and everything would have been normal.

Or maybe it would have been better if they had the chance to talk it out that night. But Luffy had immaculate timing as always and when the captain asked Zoro to eat with him, of course the swordsman agreed. And then, Luffy had realized that the food for their feast was almost out and made his way to the kitchen - Sanji’s kitchen - and Sanji went to defend their provisions from the captain, which effectively ended his talk with Zoro for the night. And for the next couple days. Which was very uncomfortable.

The Thousand Sunny was a great ship and it had a decent size for the Strawhats. But it was too small to avoid each other. Especially considering that Sanji’s workplace was also the place where the entire crew ate. And Luffy insisted on them eating together. Zoro did his very best to avoid Sanji during the day, probably in the crow’s nest if Sanji had to guess, and Sanji did his very best to spend as much time as possible in the kitchen, but they couldn’t evade each other completely. The bathroom was shared, as were the sleeping arrangements. It made not seeing each other effectively impossible.

Not to mention that the others caught wind, too. Which was to be expected, because usually their fights were regular, happened in the very least once a day, but they have been quiet for a few days now and no one knew why. Which might be not true, considering Robin had been throwing some knowing smiles his way for days now and as beautiful as Robin’s smiles usually were, this one unnerved him. He would take Chopper innocently asking if him and Zoro had a real fight this time over that any day.

Sanji sighed, looking at the last potato he had to cut before he would go to bed. Not matter how hard he would think about it, it wouldn’t change anything. He said what he said, as did Zoro, and neither of the two knew how to handle it. At least they had something in common.

A humorless laugh left him, as he began peeling the potato. And then he let it fell out of his hand when someone cleared their throat behind him. He quickly grabbed to again before he turned around to face Zoro. And then he fiddled with it, giving his hands something to do, while he waited for Zoro to speak. He’s seen someone look both as uncomfortable and as determined as Zoro did right now.

„Look, I’m sorry“, Zoro said and Sanji almost lost his grip on the potato again. He wasn’t sure what he expected exactly, but an apology wasn’t even on his radar. What was Zoro apologizing for, anyway?

„I - what?“, was his eloquent response and he stopped peeling now. For good measure, no need to cut himself, after all.

„It’s clear you didn’t understand what I meant that night. And that you very clearly understood the next morning. And that you’re uncomfortable now. I’m sorry I said that. Should’ve taken it with me to the grave like planned.“

Laughing probably wasn’t a good response to that. Sanji knew he would be deeply insulted if someone laughed at him, after he showed vulnerability like that. But he couldn’t help it. After days of nothing, of Zoro not even looking at him, that was what he got? It was comical.

But apparently Zoro, much like Sanji, was deeply insulted. Not that Sanji could blame him for that.

„Yeah, ha ha. Ain’t it funny Zoro has feelings? I got it, Cook.“

„No, wait please“, Sanji pleaded, still laughing, but trying his best to keep it in, „that was just really unexpected, please just give me a second.“

Zoro crossed his arms before his chest and huffed annoyed. But he wasn’t leaving, so Sanji did his best to reign in his laugh and calm down. The situation was serious, Zoro was serious and Sanji should be serious, too. So he took a deep breath, straightened his back and looked Zoro in the eye. Which normally would be the start of a fight. Now it just made this situation weirder.

„Sorry, this is just really different from our constant arguing“, Sanji tried to explain. Zoro raised an eyebrow but remained silent. What did it say about Sanji that he knew exactly what this raised eyebrow meant? He really knew Zoro all too well.

„It’s weird“, he said and Zoro hummed in agreement, which was a beginning, „and it’s probably even weirder that I don’t hate it. Talking to you that night was nice, I meant what I said. Which, I never thought about it, not like that, not as intense, but I definitely meant it when I said it. I care for you, which is not that weird, I care for everyone in the crew. But I care for you really deeply, more than usual and that might be the weirdest revelation I had in years. “

Zoro shifted his weight from one foot to the other and Sanji really wished he still had the potato in his hands. Anything to stop them from fidgeting. He didn’t really know what to say now, he said his piece but Zoro seemed to wait for something. Or maybe Zoro was thinking, too. Which was unusual, Zoro might not wear his heart on his sleeve like Luffy did, but he never shied away from saying his piece either. Sanji considered his potato once more, just to have something to do for his hands. And to not have to look Zoro in the eye.

„It is strange“, Zoro agreed eventually, „but I don’t hate it.“

And then he dropped his hands from in front of his chest and took a step towards Sanji. Just one, like he was scared Sanji would shy away. Which he wouldn’t, but he could appreciate Zoro’s concern. Which would have been insulting in another setting, but this was way different from any other setting the two had ever found themselves in. So he could appreciate it, and silence the little voice in his head, insisting that Zoro just implied he was weak. He knew for sure, that Zoro didn’t think of him as weak, after all.

And Sanji supposed he could meet him in the middle, so he took a step towards Zoro, too. And cupped the man’s head in his palm. And leaned in to kiss him. Which Zoro somehow managed to make into a competition for dominance. And then, when Zoro won and they parted for a quick catch of breath, he smirked triumphantly at Sanji.

That Asshole.

#zosan #one piece #zoro #op zoro #roronoa zoro #sanji #vinsmoke sanji #i hate tagging sanji as a vinsmoke getting together drunk talks

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