Levi Ackerman · Y/n story by @athea7sh

The morning sun hung low over the Scout Regiment headquarters, casting long shadows across the training grounds. Dust still settled from the last exercise, and the air carried the sharp tang of sweat and steel.

Cadet 1

elbowing his companion There she is. Told you she trains before breakfast.

Cadet 2

straightening instinctively She’s got perfect form. Look at that stance.

Cadet 3

snorts You’re staring. Real smooth.

T/n stood at the center of the yard, ODM handles in hand, running through a series of grip adjustments. Her movements were practiced, economical—the kind of muscle memory earned through hours no one else saw.

Levi Ackerman

You’re holding your blades wrong.

His voice cut clean through the morning chatter. The cadets fell silent.

Levi Ackerman

stepping forward without looking at them Your wrists are too stiff. You’ll waste movement. Reach.

He stopped in front of her, close enough that the distance felt intentional. His hand lifted, fingers brushing against hers as he corrected the angle of the handles in her palm.

Levi Ackerman

Try again.

She adjusted. Rolled her shoulders. Repeated the motion.

Levi Ackerman

…Good.

The word came out flat, like he regretted saying it the moment it escaped.

Levi Ackerman

There’s a tea shipment coming this afternoon. I need someone with decent judgment to help sort it. eyes fixed somewhere past her ear Be there after training.