#fluffeh

With international unrest ceasing thirty years after the rumbling, Hange and Levi finally deemed it safe to visit their old home of Paradis.

Hange wanted to see the old Trost barracks. It was a surreal experience. The Yeagerists had done a number on their old stomping grounds. They walked the paths through the city they once knew. They remembered cobblestone streets, with friendly stalls and shops with familiar faces. Now, they see a city that has developed highways, and the people were less inviting. 

Feeling a little distraught, Hange and Levi made their way to the outskirts, where their old training facility was located. To their pleasant surprise, it was largely untouched. Levi perked up a little bit.

“What?” Hange asked, noticing Levi’s change in mood.

“I think they’re still here…” he mused, pushing up and out of his wheelchair, Levi hobbled down the corridor of the basement. Curious, Hange followed.

“What’s still here?” Hange asked.

Levi opened a small crate that was tucked away in the far corner of the cellar. He coughed as his motion stirred up decades-old dust. Hange peered over his shoulder and hollered with glee when they realized what it was.

“No way! 3DM gear?!” They whooped excitedly.

“Do you think it’ll still work after all this time?” Levi asked.

“Only one way to find out!”

Neither one of them had worn their gear in three decades, but the belts seemed to find their places easily. It felt natural. Levi stretched his bad knee, testing it’s range of motion.

“I think I can still do it,” he said, more to himself than to Hange.

“I think you’re full of shit,” they scoffed.

Levi glared as he attached the gas tank, and pointed his hips in the direction of a nearby tree. Hange realized his intentions a second too late to stop him.

“Wait, No-!” they hollered, but Levi had already launched.

It was a nostalgic feeling. The wind in his hair, the pull on the belts, and the free-falling sensation at the peak of his arches, just before the reels found something else to hook into. He had to admit he missed this. His smile grew into a grin as he looked back at Hange.

Then as Levi tried to round a tree, the pressure of the harness caused his knee to lock and he shouted out in pain as he tumbled to the ground.

“Shit,” Hange cursed, deploying their own gear. They traveled with much less style, but at least they didn’t eat shit on the way.

“Are you okay?” They asked, helping Levi to his feet.

“Yeah,” he muttered, dusting himself off. He seemed more pissed off than hurt, to which Hange was relieved. “I never realized how much I engaged my legs.”

“You’re also just old as hell and you need to act like it,” Hange teased. “I didn’t even try anything fancy and my hip is already sore,” they rubbed the area for emphasis. “And I don’t know how any of us avoided whiplash.”

“Tch, compared to you being a pain in my neck for all these years, whiplash is nothing” Levi said dryly.

Hange giggled and said, “Awww, that’s so sweet of you,” before giving a big obnoxious smooch right on his scarred cheek.