Chapter Text
There’s a piano in the corner of the basement.
Eren doesn’t think anyone even knows it’s there. No one ever talks about it. No one ever touches it – except that one time, when Eren first found it. Dust had risen in ghost-like curls as he slid the blanket back over the smooth mahogany; the ebony and ivory had been cool beneath his fingertips.
The solitary note that had hung in the air after he’d gathered up the courage to press one of the keys shimmered in and out of existence like a falling star.
He didn’t touch it again. There was something… mysterious about the instrument. Something sacred. In it, Eren could feel a longing for something he could never satisfy. Was this what it was like to be starving? The instrument made him hunger for something he could never consume.
He isn’t capable of bringing to life the melodies that echoed through his mind every night – no one is.
The thought makes his chest ache.
*
There’s a piano in the corner of the basement.
The memory of it makes Levi’s fingers itch. He hasn’t been down there in weeks – not since a certain someone had moved in – and the music flying around his head is pulling at his heartstrings, begging for release.
“Hanji,” Levi murmurs, not looking up from the pile of reports at his desk. An idea forms in the back of his mind as he speaks. “Can you supervise Eren’s training today? Just the basics, no transformations... I have something I need to get done.” He taps his pen on the stack of papers, as if to prove his point.
“Of course!” Hanji replies, nodding eagerly. Levi could already see them churning mentally through possible exercises and activities that they could use to further their studies. He winces, feeling guilty at whatever hell he may have just subjected Eren to, but…
…if it meant returning to the basement, it’d be worth it.
When Hanji finishes with their reports and leaves to go find Eren, Levi struggles to keep the smile from his face.
*
There are pros and cons to having Hanji run his training, Eren realizes.
It could been worse – it could be Levi.
And yet… training with Hanji comes with its own set of hazards, this time arising in the form of a new 3DMG obstacle course that is, quite frankly, terrifying.
He doesn’t even last half the course.
A titan-dummy launches itself at Eren from out of nowhere, propelled by rockets lovingly prepared by the mad scientist who watches in glee-filled horror as Eren crashes and falls. He lands in a heap in some bushes just off the course; the sky dances headily above him.
“Hmm,” Hanji mutters, leaning over to examine the gash on Eren’s thigh. “That doesn’t look too good. Sorry about that.”
“It’s fine,” Eren huffs. The landing left him winded. “It’ll heal soon enough. I can keep at it.”
“I don’t think so,” Hanji replies, helping the boy to his feet. Eren stands gingerly. “You should change out of those – give yourself time to recover before we get back to training. You deserve a break.”
“…Alright.”
*
The wound stings with every step as Eren trudges to the basement, cursing inwardly for the umpteenth time about his sleeping quarters. The rest of the Survey Corps had bunks close to the main hall and the training arena – he, on the other hand, had to slog all the way across the castle grounds to get to the entrance to the basement.
Not like it isn’t deserved.
But still. It’s a long walk to make when blood is dripping down his leg. How I’m going to get down the stairs is beyond – ?
Eren freezes.
There’s a sound wafting up from below, echoes dancing off the stone and painting the air with shades of silver and gold.
There’s a piano in the corner of the basement and Eren finds himself being drawn to it, called by the song that swells up out of the darkness, promising flight to something grounded deep within him.
*
Levi never really knew where the music came from.
All he knows is that he could never get enough of the way a melody slipped through his fingers, pouring forth to say what words never could. He would sit there and chase it, following its rise and fall, entranced by the spell the music seemed to weave as it spilled into existence and chased away the dark.
“…Levi?”
Levi whirls, the driving melody cutting off with a choke. Eren looks at him with fear etched across his face as the echoes ring and fall silent.
“I’m sorry,” Eren whispers. He clings to the spare clothing as if his life depended on them. There’s blood on his leg but the steaming had ceased. “I didn’t mean to interrupt, I just… I can leave…”
“No,” Levi replies gently, the alarm draining from his pulse. “It’s alright. You can stay.”
He turns back as the song stirs again, falling slowly upwards from the shadows and the dust. He coaxes the melody out of the ivory, threading the tenor along through it with a gentle ebb and flow, moving breathlessly with the tide. It slips from him like a wordless poem in a language long forgotten, calling to life what he could never speak.
He pretends not to notice when he hears Eren settle behind him, feels the boy rest his head against the small of Levi’s back.
If the music filled them both, how could Levi refuse?