A/N: This was originally written for Day 2 (Theme: Saltimbanco [Operating as Partners]) of RivaMikaWeek Cycle 4 in December 2014. It's based on the reveal in Erwin & Levi's official Smartpass AU interview, where Levi admits the desire to open a tea shop after his military service.

This also ended up being about…five times longer than I originally planned, so hopefully it's not too tedious of a read!


Temae
Rating:
T

Summary: Vignettes of a teashop owner and his patron. RivaMika/LeviMika.


Trost, Year 855

In sunlit hours, each block of the recovering district seems to abide by its own rhythm – down one street come the hollers of fruit merchants promoting their freshest crop, while another resounds with the clinking and chiming of blacksmith shops, now far more dedicated to the creation of horseshoes than weaponry and armor. Occasionally, the cobblestones receive the bustling feet of children chasing one another in a game of their own design, signaling that after centuries of struggle, future generations may finally experience a genuine semblance of security and freedom.

The southwest corner plays home to a barrage of new eateries and inns, each establishment hoping to be at the forefront of the reviving economy. Prior to the final war, Trost had never been a glowing beacon of tourism. Yet now, with most of the other areas still in various stages of reconstruction, it has come to symbolize the epitome of escapism, inspiring citizens from far and wide to come and experience its horde of offerings.

Next to a café on Dietrich Street frequented by former members of the Garrison, a most unassuming shop marks its diminutive territory. With its singular banner bearing no words other than "Tea" written in stiff calligraphy, the shop's aged wooden frame barely registers in the peripheral of most passerby. Its visitors are infrequent but loyal - always the same faces routinely strolling through its door, as if operating on a monthly schedule. Every now and then, however, brand new patrons depart with aromatic paper bags and excited whispers of "Was that really…?," for no one actually expects to see the intimidating face servicing them from behind that counter.

To those actually residing in the neighborhood, the answer to such a question is rhetorical. After all, one only needs to step a little closer to decipher the Wings of Freedom, faintly outlined behind the banner lettering, but still exuding the symbol's renowned majesty.


She arrives on the third day in the second week of Spring, right as the first batch of violets conclude their life cycle.

It's the restocking hour he self-schedules for each daybreak – one of Levi's least favorite periods, as it requires him to ascend ladders and strenuously reach for impossible altitudes on his display shelves – and he has his back to the entrance, grabbing jars of tea leaves to replenish them with the latest shipments. Fortunately, his military experience somehow enables him to achieve all this with one hand gripping the ladder while the rest of his frame extends in every which way. And in the end, it always becomes a private demonstration of well-practiced acrobatics more than anything else.

When unexpected applause sounds behind him on this particular morning, however, Levi winces.

"I'm not open yet." Clutching at the railings for balance, he does not restrain any hint of irritation directed at the premature visitor.

"Then you should keep the door locked, Captain."

The voice is deep and composed, while the title is long-forgotten yet still significant. For the first time in his memory, Levi nearly stumbles when his head somehow twists faster than his body.

His former comrade – and unofficial protégé, as many had claimed - stands a short distance away, her firm stance still hinting at the rigidness of a young soldier. From his higher vantage point, she seems miniature in the enormous empty space that he has never utilized properly, but he can clearly recognize the striking shade of her scarf, with its every thread contrasting the monotony of her long-sleeved black dress and tan boots. She is visibly older than the last time he saw her, riding off into the horizon with close friends, but her hair remains a similar length, while the subtle refinements to her features hint at more harmonic experiences rather than the turmoil they both endured for all those years.

Turning back around, he begins to climb down rail by rail, deliberating and revising the first thing he should articulate a multitude of times. But by the time his feet knock on the wooden floor and shifts him to face her again, he has discarded all options in favor of what's most familiar.

"Mikasa." It's a name he has not uttered in ages, yet the word still somehow pacifies his harsh tongue. "How…did you find me?"

Rather than answer him immediately, the young woman's eyes begin to wander from one corner of the shop to the next, using each newly-drawn path of sight to digest the sheer amount of items lining the walls. Eventually, she approaches the east side during her assessments, and long fingers soon brush past the transparent surfaces of half-filled containers, swiping across numerous labels placed impeccably upon glass. Right then, Levi recalls that nothing escapes the young woman's scrutiny once she concentrates, and despite his efforts at indifference, he can't help but feel curious at what kind of tea she will gravitate towards in the end.

"Maybe you don't realize it, but you now run the most respected teashop in the entire region." She muses without looking at him. "Finding this place wasn't hard."

"Tch." For him, such recognitions always enter through one ear and escape the other. "Fame, infamy…they never fade as much as we want them to."

A grin twitches at the corner of her full lips, and he knows that she is in complete agreement. Even after a few years of separation, their exchanges are still as brief as they always have been, yet each statement retains underlying levels of insight that few others can comprehend. After all, they have always had similar philosophies: speak little, and allocate more time for acts.

Those convictions, however, seem to have shifted for him since then. And when an entire minute passes with her focus still trained on his merchandise, the superior in him suddenly feels compelled to demand at least some attention.

"I'm surprised that you came on your own." He states.

She crouches down to remove a jar from lower shelving, giving it an once-over. "Eren and Armin went off to explore the coasts, and I've been by myself for weeks."

He wants to ask why she is not traveling with her childhood friends, but a part of him understands. Whereas years ago he had also desired all the freedom that the world had to offer, seclusion had become the more consoling norm after years on the front lines. Nowadays, the shop is beyond just his establishment – the cellar also poses as his makeshift home, where every once in a while, he can actually sleep for more than just two hours upon a simple cot. Besides the occasional visits from Erwin and Hanji, he has completely avoided the notion of guests, for his overabundance of tea manages to temporarily fulfill any hollowness better than the presence of people.

Well, most people, perhaps.

"So why are you here?" As he poses the question, Levi pretends to wipe off the counter for the one millionth time, not wanting to give away the notion that he actually desires the conversation this time – that he wants to know more.

Turning her neck slowly, she looks in his direction again.

"I was bored."

Though the answer is much terser than he desires, any sarcastic words Levi had intended to say are silenced once he perceives the pure challenge in Mikasa's eyes, as if daring him to criticize her brutal honesty. He knows that look all too well – after all, it's the same one he had always sent her throughout the war, when he constantly bequeathed the most controversial and demanding of orders. But now, in this time of harmony that leaves little room for their former selves, Levi can only raise an amused eyebrow at her attitude.

"Glad to know that I can be a remedy for your boredom."

Surprisingly, the jest resonates, and Mikasa's expression actually takes the form of a beautiful grin – catching him completely off-guard. Levi tries to interpret the sudden change, but forfeits any attempt when she suddenly stands and starts to walk towards the counter with her selection.

Even before it's placed in front of him, Levi knows exactly what variety she chose from the now-empty slot on the east wall: Whispering Earth, green tea leaves infused with violet petals from the Shiganshina area. It's one of his personal favorites, and he purposefully positioned it in a discreet area, where fewer customers would take notice and deplete his precious supply. Nevertheless, he has always wondered when the inevitable discovery would take place, for it would require someone with keen observation and taste comparable to his own.

A noise interrupts his train of thought, and he recognizes it as her shoving the jar forward. "You look disappointed that I chose this, so it must be good."

Shit, I am still quite transparent where she is concerned.

"Yes, it is." The words represent one of his poorer attempts at indifference. Meanwhile, his confirmation only increases the anticipation pervading her next words.

"Then I'll take 50 grams, please."

Unscrewing the lid, Levi proceeds to gingerly pour the dark contents upon his scale, all the while breathing in the pleasant mixture of fragrance that he has come to value. 50 grams will require him to place another order with farmers in the region much earlier than expected, but for once, he does not feel much urge to grumble.

Across the counter, Mikasa finally begins to defend herself from his earlier accusation. "For your information, Captain, I'm not just here to relieve any boredom. I also wanted to see if your shop actually lived up to its name…to your name."

"What, 'Ackerman?' Want to make sure I wasn't embarrassing you with a poor reputation?" Holding back surprise, he leans closer to his measuring device instead, carefully gauging the weights to reach the exact amount she requested.

She shakes her head. "Not the name you adopted from my clan…I meant your nickname."

The surname commonality is another one of those bizarre connections between them, but ever since working alongside her during the war, Levi has felt much more comfortable – and even proud - about using it in public. In turn, a part of him is almost disappointed that she wasn't referring to it. Rather than mulling over it for too long, he glances up at her wearily as soon as the scale demarcates a perfect "50."

"Sorry, but I don't have anything named 'Humanity's Strongest Tea' here, if that's what you wanted to try." In the moment, his impetuous sense of humor returns. "Green, black, white…I keep the stock my way – simple, with only the necessary additives for flavor."

Seemingly satisfied with his response, Mikasa folds both arms upon the counter surface and leans over the scale, leaving only a short distance between their faces. "Good to see that you haven't changed much, then, Captain."

Her movement unnerves him more than he wants to admit, but he dodges any accidental disclosure by ducking down for a paper bag. While temporarily concealed from her view, he gathers enough audacity to make a request of his own.

"We both left the service so long ago already – you can call me Levi."

"As you wish, Levi."

The brief silence that precedes her response somehow eases him, for now she must wrestle with these new circumstances as much as he does. But as soon as the syllables of his name flow from Mikasa's lips, he is troubled to discover that, perhaps, the ball has been in his court ever since her first appearance. And for the next few minutes – from him packaging her purchase to her providing payment – Levi finds his eyes focused on anywhere but on his unpredictable customer. The flowing scent of tea leaves coagulates the space where their breaths meet time and again, serving as the only detectable hint of their ongoing interaction. Only when she finally steps away does he glance in her direction again, but by then, he feels nothing but prolonged dissatisfaction at the sight of her departing back.

When she reaches the door, however, she turns and provides him with a glimpse into the future.

"Out of curiosity, what would you recommend for me next time?"

For once, the question fails to catch Levi off-guard, as the answer is already next to his hands.

"I think what you already chose is perfect." He lifts the container of Whispering Earth, as if saluting her. "And trust me, I wouldn't share this with just anyone."

He hadn't intended to say the second part out loud, but when Mikasa grins at him one last time before exiting the shop, a confident "I've always trusted you" serving as her farewell, Levi is glad that he did.


By his tally, she visits again exactly two weeks and three days later.

Of course, he will never admit that he counted in the first place.

The sun is barely still peeking over adjacent rooftops by the time Levi finally has a break in between customers and errands, and as soon as he steps out of the shop, a small group of children start their monthly gathering within his limited personal space. To most, they may appear to be the same youth scampering around the neighborhood, forfeiting homework sessions to partake in juvenile games. But at closer observation, the tattered clothes and shoes of this crowd narrate quite a different tale.

"Remember - if you break them, they're worthless." His keeps his tone stern in these moments, when he redistributes the unsold supply of porcelain teapots, teacups, and saucers into the crowd of anxious hands, each belonging to an orphan with proven ambitions of becoming a future merchant someday. Soon, the precious tableware being exchanged here will make its way into the dining rooms of those who typically cannot afford them, as the children will resell them at great discounts – all the while gaining both money and trade skills of their own.

Adolescent boys, teenage girls - each an innocent reflection of warfare's consequences, and each shouldering their own tragic backstory that mirrors his in some shape or form. Every month, their excited yells reverberate against building materials as he donates the latest batch of extra goods from the shop, and even those who receive just a single piece of silverware are as grateful as the rest. In the beginning, he had regarded this idea as part of his impossible exoneration, but months later, his altruism has somehow taken on thorough authenticity.

By the time every person receives one item, only a sliver of orange and yellow hues remain in the sky.

"Time to go back to the shelter, brats." It will be getting dark soon.

Short phrases of gratitude are uttered all around, followed by a series of quick embraces from the youngest kids. I will only accept hugs if you are under six-years-old. He had told them long ago, as public displays of affection have never been his forte.

When the crowd gradually disseminates around him, leaving the road empty again, Levi finally notices the elongated shadow of someone watching from afar.

"You care very much for them, even if you don't like to show it outright." Walking out from a nearby alley, Mikasa approaches him at a serene pace. "I'm almost nostalgic at how familiar that is."

"Tch." He scoffs, accepting her accusation before surveying her approach.

This time, her features and minimal outfit – a black cardigan over a nimble, light grey dress - are partially painted by the last hints of dusk. In such a state, she resembles the vision he has been dreaming about ever since two weeks ago, and it takes all his strength to regard the sunset instead.

"I was just like them once." Holding back any degree of gladness at her return, he divulges another seldom expressed sentiment. "But here, now…maybe I can give them a glimpse of the damn hope I never had for myself."

"If I weren't saved by the Yeagers, I probably would've appreciated your kind of help just as much." Her words are just as candid as his, and progressively louder – indicating that soon she may come too close for comfort.

Not wanting the proximity or for her to reminisce too long about misfortunes, Levi makes an opportune decision to turn back towards the teashop. "Back for more Whispering Earth?"

Mikasa follows, though not right on his heels – as if she recognizes the unease. "Yes, it was quite good as you said, so I would like more. Unless…you already drank the rest, of course."

"No." He scoffs. In fact, I ordered extra this time.

Once inside, Levi efficiently retrieves the correct jar of tea leaves on his way towards the back counter. Before she even asks, he is weighing 50 grams worth again on the scale. And by the time she finally reaches the same area, he is already halfway there.

Right as he finds the proper measurement, however, a palm encloses over his hand and the scale's rider beams, blocking him from completing the task. His soldier's instinct nearly elicits him to jerk backwards, but her next words surprise him even more than the initial action.

"Wait." Her eyes are downcast, preventing him from distinguishing any sentiments pooling within. "Would you drink a cup of this with me first? I've been enjoying it all by myself, and…"

Time seems to dilate within their confined space, and Levi feels his heart pumping at a rhythm more erratic than during his most intense Titan faceoff. Rather than a verbal response, he extends his other hand towards the rear shelving, carefully feeling for the outlines of the closest teacup display before safely collecting two. Then, the same limb reaches beneath, gripping the pot of hot water he saves for his own tea breaks and placing it upon the counter. Though the emanating heat warms his fingers in the process, it still pales in comparison to the rising temperature from their ongoing contact. Contrary to previous apprehensions, his eyes never leave her face all this time, for he realizes that there is perhaps much more that he must try to decipher.

Only when Levi positions both teacups before them does Mikasa finally retract her hand, allowing him to deposit part of her eventual purchase into each. As he prudently shares a portion of the dark matter between them, he tries to not dwell on the loss of her touch, if only to prevent the loss of any tea leaves due to distraction.

When he grabs for the pot in the last step, he finds that she is actually ahead this time. Her fingers are already wrapped around the handle, and like him, she exerts little effort in lifting the container with one hand, even while it's completely filled.

"Let me." Mikasa murmurs right before the first stream of hot liquid flows into his cup. Almost immediately, the gentle fragrance of the dried leaves transform into a tremendous mixture of floral and musty aromas, all expanding into the air via the rising steam. The effect only multiplies as she repeats the process for her side, producing an outcome that's powerful at best, and hypnotic at worst.

"Thank you, Levi, for your time."

With those words, she lifts her finished drink, prompting him to follow suit. Instinctively, he secures his fingertips along the rim, like he was accustomed to doing. Unlike the traditional cheers at a bar or dinner table, the porcelain surfaces they clench upon don't make any actual contact. Instead, the gestures alone, blending with the tea's own attributes, manage to communicate countless words appreciating this tranquil companionship.

Before he hastily gulps down his portion, however, Levi suddenly finds himself mesmerized, for behind the partial obstruction of steam Mikasa has morphed into a stirring portrait. Contrary to his habits, her fingers support the cup's bottom half, while her lips gently separate against the edge. Both eyes are softly closed, blockading all senses outside of taste and smell as she consumes. And during the first swallow, sheer satisfaction pervades her expression, as if the sweetest of honeys had actually slid down her tongue and throat.

Without even realizing it, his fingers shift on their own volition, readjusting to emulate her positions and behavior. When he tilts the cup for his inaugural drink this time, Levi keeps both eyes shut and sips just as slowly, attempting to appreciate every drop of liquid to the utmost. Whereas before he always trapped the heat and aroma with his own hand, as both felt more like distractions, his senses now beckon for more exhaustive gratification. No longer is there fear or doubt hindering such desires - only beautiful mysteries behind dissolvable curtains of steam, waiting for him to uncover them.

After years of violence and misgivings, he wonders if this is the moment that actually delineates his future.

And yet, even with the teashop's budding success, he is still unsure of how to start anew.

"Levi?"

His eyes snap open to her stare, the pair of grey orbs boldly connecting with his once more, as if the tea had also alleviated her earlier uncertainties. He can't help but notice the light dusting of remnant leaves attached to her bottom lip, but rather than giving into the temptation of brushing them aside, he grips his cup resolutely and sets it down – perhaps a bit harder than intended.

"You should head home now, Mikasa." His voice somehow maintains stoicism. "I'll call for a carriage."

"I can get one on my own." She shakes her head before baring a sense of melancholy. "Plus, home no longer feels like home…not without Eren and Armin there."

The confession reminds Levi of his own circumstances, where his only daily confidantes take form as a multitude of glass jars. The shop has certainly become his accidental household, enfolding him both in body and mind, providing comfort against the traces of vehement memories that the outside domains still trigger in his head. But a critical piece always remains amiss, like a constantly vacant spot upon the shelves, lacking the ideal variety of tea to occupy its emptiness.

A random idea emerges in that moment, though even he does not know where it will lead.

"Let me teach you something, then - so you can at least entertain yourself whenever you are alone." Reaching behind, he grabs ahold of two saucers from the display. "You only have a little bit of tea left, right?"

Nodding, Mikasa watches curiously as he sets one of the plates in front of her, waiting for him to explain in further detail.

"I learned this a while ago from a traveling customer who was headed west." He continues, recalling the boisterous man who claimed to be psychic and was an unexpectedly charming swindler. "The idiot actually used it to decide which direction he would journey towards next, but it's amusing enough."

Lifting his cup with one hand, Levi takes a brief moment to refocus before swirling what little remains of the liquid inside. Three times. He raises a trio of fingers as instruction. Once completed, he swiftly turns the cup over, unloading its contents into the saucer. Mikasa grimaces somewhat at the abrupt action, likely surprised that the leaves are seemingly going to waste.

Seconds later, he removes the cup and uncovers chaos beneath, all the while resisting the urge to immediately start cleaning the mess.

"Now, what shapes do you see in here?"

"Tea leaf reading?" She looks almost flabbergasted at his request. "Since when were you superstitious?"

He quirks a brow at her judgment. "Like I said, it's only for entertainment. And considering how bored you must be to come here twice in one month, I would say that you need some these days."

The retort seems to render Mikasa wordless, but before Levi can determine if the red hues emerging on her cheeks are merely an illusion, she lowers her head and devotes herself to ogling at the saucer.

"I think I see…some swallows?" She mumbles after a few moments.

A list of words materializes in his memory, and under the category of "Birds" his mind scans for the proper meaning.

Swallow – Love and new beginnings.

The alarming recollection causes him to scramble, and he wonders why he had thought this a wise idea in the first place.

"No, they look more like damn bats – and it means I'm too busy for my own good." He states with dismissiveness before moving the saucer aside – the mess had been irking him, anyhow – and also retrieves her still-clean one in the process. Mikasa does not speak throughout his spontaneous tirade, but the space between them rapidly fills with awkward confusion reminiscent of when they first learned of his surname years ago. It's a circumstance that something as modest as tea cannot mitigate, and so he makes the attempt to conclude their evening once and for all.

With his usual efficiency, Levi shoves the rest of her tea leaves into the paper bag that had been sitting dormant next to them. Then, stretching his arm into the organized horde of documents within a bottom cabinet, he removes one of several thin pamphlets, with covers displaying identical sketches of a tea plant. In the process, a leather-bound book falls unceremoniously unto the ground, and he gives pause before collecting it as well.

"Just do your readings at home, because you really should be heading back." Standing tall again, he hands her all three objects with finality and feigned aloofness. "The pamphlet is a list of meanings the man left me - but don't take anything too seriously."

"Al..alright." Her response is one of hesitant agreement until she notices the second book. "What's this?"

"I got some parchments from a fellow tea merchant a while ago and combined them together." Levi explains forthrightly, concealing any self-deprecating foolishness about never giving it to her until now. "He said that they document some ritual from an ancient clan…your mother's ancestors, in fact. I still can't make sense of any of the foreign language to this day, so it's probably better in your hands – and now you can be even more occupied."

The young woman's eyes suddenly glow with astonishment, and he realizes that the revelation probably holds much more significance than he had presumed. Nevertheless, he forces himself to circle around the counter, needing to escort her out before the circumstances inspired any further attachments.

"Good night." His steps to the exit are swift, despite the fact that his feet feel unusually heavy. When he opens the door for her and turns around at last, he witnesses Mikasa hugging all her new belongings closely as she paces towards him. In the dimmed lighting, her expression is completely unreadable, as if a thousand emotions had invaded at once.

"Good night." She states as she passes him, her tone somewhat indignant. "And sorry if I stayed longer than my welcome."

The heated apology stings at a subliminal fragment of him that Levi had never wanted to expose, but now, that same part threatens to sever all the strings that fasten him to his current securities. One arm elevates, wanting to grip her wrist and ask for another shared cup of tea as forgiveness for his random lack of hospitality, but by the time it rises enough, she has already disappeared into the uninviting darkness.

The door soon swivels shut, and Levi can do little but glower at his rows of remaining companions.

Damn tea leaves.


To his surprise, only another week passes before he perceives her slipping through the entrance – this time before opening hours again. A part of him is startled that she is here again, but he is even more flabbergasted that she made the blunder of being detected, since the art of staying clandestine was something he passed down to her back in the day. From what Levi could catch, it's as if there were elements inhibiting her movements this time, but without seeing things firsthand, he fails to determine exactly what those hindrances are.

"Bored of tea leaf reading already?" He surmises upon the ladder, pretending that his redundant shuffling of two white tea jars is actually intentional.

"Well, I kept getting very similar shapes." Behind him, she proclaims with nonchalance. "So I think I believe in its fortune telling just a little more now."

"Which shapes?" Knowing that any further shelving rearrangements would be a mere charade, he begins another descent. Just as the first time she visited, his mind ponders the entire way down what the best course of action should be, especially considering the poor conclusion of her previous visit, but all words fly out the window when his eyes actually land on her.

Rather than her previous attire, Mikasa is enveloped in pastel green fabric fashioned in the form of an ankle-length robe, with its two halves secured around the waist by a white sash and its upper collar embroidered with clusters of tiny patterns. Though simple in appearance, he deciphers that the draping is likely more elaborate than what one can observe, and the underlying strength in her posture is now supplemented by the gentle outlines of her silhouette. In her right hand is a basket containing objects he has never seen in person, though he recognizes some from the illustrations within parchments no longer in his possession. He can't help but wonder if other locals ogled at the young woman throughout her trek here, but for once, Levi finds that he cannot fault anyone had they did such a thing.

After all, his own eyes are likely the same size as the largest tea saucers he sells.

"I made something for you." She ignores his question and moves forward, all the while retrieving something from within her oversized sleeves.

The piece of fabric she uncovers is midnight blue, the same shade his irises darken into during the most dangerous of conditions. For a second, Levi wonders if it is meant to reference her clearest memories of him, and he isn't sure how to react when she slides the perfectly-folded square across the counter.

"It's called a 'yukata' in my mother's native tongue. The same as what I'm wearing."

He scrutinizes the unusual gift before meeting her eyes. "I didn't realize you could sew this well."

"My mother was wonderful at it, and I taught myself what I could over the years."

The tinge of pain that flashes across Mikasa's expression right then forces him to restrain any additional questions, and Levi decides to examine the attire's intricacies instead, traversing fingertips from lining to lining with the same delicacy that he uses to handle the most fragile of tea leaves. Along the seams, every stitch bears a perfect angle, hinting at how the precision of her battle skills also transitions into her needlework.

"As nice as this is, are you saying that I have to…" Unwittingly, his line of sight makes a languid glide across her torso, digesting how despite its looseness, the yukata still manages to hugs every arch, slight or severe.

"Yes, please put it on." Her voice adopts the faintest suggestion of demand. "The ritual requires proper attire."

"Ritual?" Though admittedly distracted, the word still rings a bell in his mind.

"The book you bound and gave to me." Mikasa brings the basket into his peripheral as she speaks, seemingly aware that its contents of mostly cups and tools are ideal reminders. "Its writings do teach a ritual like you said – but in a way, it's more of a performance."

Out of everything she presents, the medium-sized iron pot resting along the back of the collection piques his interest. "A performance...involving tea?"

"Yes, and I have been practicing." Both her hands reach out then, untucking his robe's sleeves from beneath its folded form. "Please allow me to show you, since you couldn't read the words."

With a hesitant nod, he grasps the yukata gingerly before retreating to the storage area, silently blaming all compliance on his unrelenting curiosity for everything relevant to tea.

But minutes later, when his work clothes are set methodically upon empty cartons, and he is fastening the garb in accordance with the memories of how hers looked, Levi discovers that in truth, the effort is simply because he can no longer decline anything Mikasa Ackerman offers.

When he finally emerges from the back room, his body shifting somewhat uncomfortably in the traditional dress, he finds the young woman kneeling at the dead center of the shop, her back completely straightened. The various materials she brought along all rest in specific positions on the ground in front of her, each placed with subliminal accuracy. At some point during his absence, she had lit a small flame in the cavern dug into the bottom section of the iron pot, and the entire space is now silent save for the bubbling sounds of boiling water.

She extends an open palm towards the area directly across from her, and Levi accepts the invitation wordlessly, walking over before lowering himself for the best imitation of her graceful posture. Though unspoken, he comprehends the request to continue emulating her movements, so when she bows deeply as a renewed greeting, he follows suit.

Raising her head again, Mikasa begins to speak, her tone now one of complete serenity.

"This usually requires powdered tea, but since you only sell the leafed variety, I had to compromise." She uncovers one of the containers, revealing a batch of Whispering Earth. "But at least, the water I have is from a true 'izumi' – the best spring I could find in the mountains."

The next moments completely mesmerize him, for she begins to act in complete harmony with each of the items between them. The movements are reminiscent of a complex battle plan, but in this peaceful encounter, bamboo ladles and wooden scoops replace any weaponry, and every relocation of a bowl or the swirling of a cup is conducted at an unhurried pace. Even when Mikasa uses a cloth to wipe away unruly droplets, the process bears an intricacy only the most persevering of individuals – or perhaps, the most disciplined of soldiers – can execute. His eyes trail various pools of steaming liquid as she transfers them from one container to the next, cleansing and disposing for what seems like hours on end. Yet, Levi feels little urgency throughout the tedious stages of development, for he knows all too well that the final reward, waiting at the bottom of his eventual cup, will possess more essence and depth than anything he has tasted prior to this morning. Moreover, he unearths consolation in the fact that such prolonged interactions mimic his own experiences, for they represent another challenge to his patience within this post-Titan world – and a reminder that sooner or later, all anticipation will bear some sort of fruit.

At last, leaves and water unite within a single bowl under Mikasa's watch, and when she pushes the fragrant mixture into his vicinity, Levi finally realizes that for the past month, he has been waiting for something beyond shipments of tea.

"Mikasa." Rather than appraising the drink straightaway, he addresses her with as much warmth as he can muster.

Her gaze shifts from the tea to him, and a glimmer of emotion surfaces behind stormy hues. The look generates gooseflesh beneath the soft cloth of his yukata, scraping woven threads against the bumps beginning to plague him from limb to limb.

"Why are you here… especially after I practically chased you out last time?" Preserving his composure on the surface, Levi wraps fingers around the bowl, allowing its heat to permeate all the way to his core. "And before you use boredom as the reason again – don't."

Her jaw slackens, and the ensuing silence stretches into remote distances. But the bittersweet liquid – her creation - that soon spreads across Levi's tongue and trickles into dimensions deep within him is more than enough, for it conveys meanings beyond what mere words can express.

"And let me ask you again." After a few more swallows, he lowers the near-empty vessel and situates it between them. "What kind of shapes have your tea leaves been forming?"

Though Levi can almost predict her response, he is still surprised when the words flow earnestly from her mouth.

"Bats, just like yours."

He isn't sure who closes the distance between them first, or if an unknown force, invigorated by the rich aromas and her teasing confession, is the actual cause of their next circumstance. All Levi knows is that when their lips finally meet, crafting a step in the ceremony undocumented by any records, the joint performance hypnotizes him more than the strongest tea known to man.


Trost Outskirts, Year 862

"Mirai."

"Hm?" Levi darts up at the delicate voice, his straw hat scraping against shrubs still undergoing his harvest. Next to him, his five-year-old daughter hugs a basket, half-filled with countless bits of green and possessing a girth nearly twice as large as her arms' total length. Nevertheless, the labor is still effortless for the little girl, for she is just as physically strong as he used to be at that age.

"Mi-rai." As always, the girl's brilliant, inquisitive eyes seem to capture everything in her vicinity. "I think I want that to be the name of the new tea you and mama are working on, papa."

Despite all attempts at staying serious, Levi cannot help but smirk with pride. "And where did you learn this word, Izumi?" He questions as he returns to plucking the final batch of leaves that confront him. Time is still of the essence every morning, but no longer does he have to tend to glass jars on a daily basis. Instead, Mikasa is helming the shop today, and it's his turn to relish in the atmospheric freedom of their small piece of farmland – and also spend some precious time with their first child, named after something that will forever symbolize their connection.

"I found the word in one of mama's books, papa." Sensing that he is not against the idea, the toddler in question declares with added excitement. "Uncle Armin wrote that it means 'future.'"

"Yes, it does." Levi also recalls the word from Mikasa's recent studies. On their latest trek, Armin and Eren had come across even more surviving members of her mother's clan. Ever since then, the duo has been sending books upon books of linguistic notes here, all to help Mikasa preserve and improve upon her skills in the nearly-lost language.

By the time he finishes reminiscing, the shrub is also finally devoid of harvestable parts. Tossing the last bud into Izumi's basket, Levi removes both working gloves before making his proposal. "When I go to visit mama later, I'll ask her if she's ok with the name."

Izumi suddenly drops the basket and runs to embraces him instead, her expression nothing short of elation. "Thank you, papa!"

At times, he is still unaccustomed to his daughter's behavior or the unusual routines he has had to adopt to accommodate her. But with each passing day and subsequent affectionate gesture, Levi finds himself more and more enamored with everything this new life represents. Flanked by colonies of tea grown by his and Mikasa's own hands, they now not only have a beautiful home, but also a family that satisfies both their implicit wishes. While the farm is a tangible result of them pooling together savings - mostly the monetary rewards that had accompanied wartime accolades - the little black-haired girl glued to him is the first authentic proof of their mutual devotion – and he knows she is likely not the last.

"Papa." Izumi suddenly wrestles away, regarding him with wrinkling brows and pouty lips. "One of the boys working at the shop told me that you won't hug me anymore after I turn six…is that true?"

"Absolutely not." He rejects the notion and pulls her back assuredly, all the while making a mental note to investigate who the jokester is.

"Okay, good." Against his back, tiny fingers now squeeze his vest with renewed confidence, and Levi uses the opportunity to both lift Izumi and return to a standing position. His free hand grabs the handle of the abandoned basket, dragging it behind them as he marches back towards their family cabin. Only when they reach the front garden does he permit his daughter to descend, and she gently climbs down his frame bit by bit, acting like an experienced mountaineer.

"I'm going into town now, so time for you to go stay with the Springers." He ruffles her hair just as she reaches the ground. "Remember to play nice with the dog."

Before he even finishes, Izumi has already run off in the direction of their neighbor's home. "Don't worry, papa. Potato loves me!"

As do I. He muses contently before chasing after her.


Come early afternoon, Levi rides into his familiar Trost neighborhood, transporting both himself and a few sacks of fresh tea leaves on horseback. From afar, an apron-clad teenager greets him near the front door of the shop, and once he comes closer Levi transfers the deliveries to him one-by-one, concluding with the reins of the horse and words of thanks. Once he hops off, he proceeds to stride straight through the front door, as he now does every other day around this hour.

The shop is a barely recognizable version of its former self, and on some days the changes still catch him by surprise. Though the shelves of jars and array of aromas remain intact, the majority of the previously impersonal space has been converted into an actual service area, where locals and visitors alike can gather and enjoy their purchases on-site. Part of the rearmost section, previously used for extra storage, is now reserved for Mikasa's popular tea ceremonies – so popular, in fact, that they have increased the sessions to three times a week from the original one.

At this particular time, however, Mikasa is walking around, greeting patrons and ensuring that the wait staff – mostly older orphans in need of extra financial support – are handling their responsibilities competently. Now that humanity's two strongest soldiers have partnered up, both in business and in matrimony, their visitors have increased tenfold. And though many only come initially for the spectacle, nearly all return again for the merchandise.

"Levi!" One of their usual customers notices him first and raises a cup, prompting him to nod in acknowledgement.

Noticing the exchange, Mikasa turns around from her position at the center of the shop, grinning once their gazes meet. At the blink of an eye, his wife arrives in front of him, planting a kiss on his cheek before discerning that he is alone.

"Izumi?" She inquires with vague concern.

"Probably dog-wrestling." He jests and kisses her cheek before retrieving a smaller bag, also filled with the morning harvest, from within his clothing. "Here – 50 grams of the new ones we picked together this morning."

"Oh good." Mikasa nods with approval. "I already prepared the other ingredients over by the counter."

Hands held, she leads him in an extended stroll to the unchanged section – they both had agreed that this spot contains far too many memories for them to alter it – moving under the envious eyes of customers and staff alike. Once they reach the destination, he observes that the same scale where he had measured her Whispering Earth years ago now holds an assortment of dried items, all seemingly unappealing to the naked eye, but no doubt judiciously selected.

They then circle around, grabbing a teapot of water and cups along the way with joint cadence. Once settled behind the counter, Levi carefully dispenses a practical amount of leaves into each cup, while Mikasa follows with a generous sprinkle of her concoction. Together, they take hold of the pot from either side, watching hot liquid flow from its spigot and serve as the finishing touch.

Immediately, a brand-new scent conquers their senses, rekindling a distinct type of wonder. Despite numerous attempts, Levi fails to identify the exact ingredients by smell alone, but he remains patient and carries out their customary cheers before taking the initial sip. Little by little, their tongues become gently scalded by both heat and flavor, and he is finally able to distinguish a refreshing blend of violets, peaches – Izumi's favorite fruit - and their own special breed of green tea, with mellow notes of hibiscus that give it a most soothing aftertaste.

"It's…wonderful." Mikasa marvels after an elongated swallow. "Like the stories that don't really end, but still leaves you feeling optimistic."

"Izumi wants to name it 'Mirai.'" He discloses their daughter's wish, taking another lavish sip in between words. "It seems fitting."

At the word, her eyes glaze over with appreciation. "'Yes, I think it's a perfect name."

With that, Levi clutches Mikasa by the waist, using a hug to convey his personal tribute to this new creation. It marks the first variety that represents not only their partnership, but their entire little family's involvement – and for that, he is more than happy to make an exception about public displays of love. In return, she grips him just as tightly, and though no further celebratory words are stated, the fondness in their body language is more than enough.

"Hey! So when do we get to try what you're enjoying there?" Moments later, another frequent customer yells from his seat, prompting the entire shop to explode into laughter.

Finally releasing one another, Levi watches as Mikasa turns to face their interrupter with a grin. It's the same gentle expression that has rendered him breathless for years, and it reminds him that where they stand now is still only the prologue of their tea-infused tale.

"For now, this tea is just for us." He hears her announce truthfully to their audience.

When the crowd groans in disappointment, he adds one final disclaimer.

"But we will share it – some time in the future."

[Fin]


A/N: "Temae" (手前) is the art of tea ceremony performance :) While both Izumi (Nase) and "Mirai" are references to Kyoukai no Kanata!

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