A/N: This is the first part of an eight-chapter story. I'll post a chapter per day, one for each prompt. I'll go back to updating Not A Victory March after this is done.

Prompt: THE FOOL / "His views are unconventional."

There were times when Levi cursed Isabel's impulsiveness. She had gone out earlier and was yet to come back. While her outings were a regular thing, this was the first time that she had been gone for so long. The Underground was not a good place to be alone and while majority of the less savoury people knew that Isabel was under Levi's protection, there were always some idiots who could do something stupid.

Farlan was worried as well, looking up from his reading now and then to look at the door. Levi checked the sharpness of the knife he was holding. He would give her another five minutes and then he would look for her. Independence was nice but not if it cost you a life.

There was a heavy thud on the stairs and both men straightened up. There were two voices coming from behind the door and one of them got raised.

"Levi-bro, Farlan, help please!"

Levi was by the door immediately. Isabel stood there, looking guilty and she was supporting someone else, someone Levi had never seen before.

"She's hurt!" Isabel implored and Levi looked the other woman over with a trained eye. She was holding on to her left arm, a tell-tale redness seeping from under her fingers. Her head was lowered but he could see a hint of a bruise on her left temple. From the tense way she stood, he guessed she was trying not to lean on Isabel too much.

"How did this happen?" he asked and the woman raised her face to look at him. The dim light on the stairs didn't let him see many details but he could make out a faint scar on her right cheek. She was still very pretty, looking almost delicate but Levi knew better than anyone that appearances could be deceiving.

"She saved me," Isabel confessed quietly. "Some men were trying to hurt me and she stopped them but she was hurt."

Levi gave a short nod. He shooed Isabel away and took over supporting the injured woman. She was much heavier than he had expected and taller, too. He helped her inside and directed her towards a chair. Farlan had already prepared the necessary supplies and the woman let him treat her injuries with an air of someone who had done this before.

Now that she was inside, Levi could see her better. She was someone new to the Underground. He didn't know everyone personally but her features were unusual enough that he was sure he would have heard of her before. She was the first person with darker hair than him that he had met since his childhood. Her eyes were grey and they returned his searching stare without flinching.

"What exactly happened?" he asked. She raised her hand towards her throat but aborted the movement halfway.

"I was walking down a side street when I heard shouting," she spoke up. "One of the voices was a woman's so I decided to take a look. There were five men and one woman. The woman was cornered and the men had knives. I took them out but one of them got lucky and slashed my arm."

Her voice was steady and she didn't betray any discomfort, even though Farlan was prodding the edges of her wound to check if it needed stitching. She had shrugged her shirt off, leaving her dressed in an undershirt that showed off not only well-defined muscles but also several smaller and fainter scars. This wasn't her first injury.

"What about your head?"

She touched her bruised temple carefully, her face becoming impassive.

"I hit my head earlier. That's why the man managed to hurt me. I got dizzy for a moment and he took the opening."

"When did that happen?" Farlan asked and reached for a small jar of salve, dabbing some of it on the bruise.

"About six hours ago?" she guessed. "But I don't have a concussion."

"And how would you know?" Farlan asked. She shrugged.

"I had one before, I know how that feels. Really," she said, "I'm tougher than I look."

Levi had let them talk. There was something about the woman that made him uneasy. She could fight, she was used to injuries, she knew how to give a clear account of events. His eyes narrowed as he looked her over. Her shirt was a simple white button-up, stained red at the left sleeve. Her pants were white as well, a rather unpractical colour and they were tucked into a knee-high brown boots. Something about that combination sounded familiar.

"If you give me your shirt, I can clean it," he offered. "Isabel can lend you one of her own in the meantime."

She nodded trustingly and handed her shirt over. He turned it over in his hands, noting the faint imprints criss-crossing the chest area. The shirt had been worn under something that used a lot of straps. And with that, he knew who the woman was.

He didn't betray his discovery by reacting. He had to hand it to the MPs, this approach was actually pretty smart. He wondered if the woman had gotten lucky by running into Isabel or if the ambush had been staged.

"I'll have it ready by the morning," he told her. Letting her stay the night was an acceptable risk. She had no idea he had seen through her and he could get a better read on whether she had some kind of a backup or if she was solo. "Unless you have somewhere else to be."

"No, I don't," she replied quietly and she raised her hand to her throat again, her fingers flexing before she let her hand fall.

"You can stay here until you heal," Isabel suggested excitedly. Levi scowled a bit but Farlan caught his eye and nodded a bit. It seemed that he, too, had picked up on something about the woman.

"I don't want to be a bother," she said uncertainly.

"You saved Isabel, it's no bother letting you stay," Farlan reassured her. "There's just one thing."

"Hmm?"

"What do we call you?"

She stared at Farlan for a moment before her eyes flicked towards Levi.

"Sakami. You can call me Sakami."