It’s your birthday and your daughter wants to celebrate. Her father can do nothing but oblige.

A/N: My submission for Levi Month Day 21; Post-War: Children. ~1.3k words of pure angst.

Credit to @cafekitsune for the dividers!

“Papa, do you think mama would like this?”

A single pebble. A shiny one at that. Levi gave it an expressionless glance and gave a firm nod.

“Mama would like anything you give her, Eden.”

Hardened eyes met soft bright ones, ones that broke out in innocent glee, ones that made Levi Ackerman’s heart swell. There was only one other person who had this effect on him.

You.

The little girl chucked the pebble into a worn pouch, along with other things she wanted to give you. It was your birthday today and Levi had been up early—partly by his own choice, the other because of the giddy toddler who had been preparing for this day for weeks. It had been hard to put Eden down to bed yesterday and the bags under Levi’s eyes were a testament to that.

The day was sunny and so Levi moved forward with his child’s plans, a picnic for mama. Stowed inside a basket were fruit—the ones you and Eden liked—some sandwiches she helped him make, and leftover stew from yesterday’s meal.

“Mama doesn’t like stew,” Eden huffed, wrinkling her nose.

“Mama doesn’t like it, or you don’t like it?”

Eden gave it a seemingly deep thought.

“Neither of us.”

Dinner time had been a struggle yesterday, too. She turned out to be as picky of an eater as her father.

It was less of a struggle now though, compared to a couple of years ago.

Right. Eden was almost five. How quickly the time has passed.

Time, Levi reflected with a pang, time that he wished he had more of.

“Papa,” a little girl with his features, but your eyes, called to him, “let’s pick flowers for mama.” He nodded before his thoughts could ensnare him again.

“This red one, and this blue one, and this pink one…”

It amazed Levi how much she’s grown. She used to be so small, would fit right into his hands like a dainty little package. Now, she counted to ten and back, knew colors, helped him water your garden. She already knew so many things—Levi sometimes found it hard to keep up.

“Mama, you’re going to like my bucket, I promise,” Eden whispered into one of the bell-shaped flowers, a habit she had ever since Levi had told her that you’d hear her if she spoke into them.

“It’s bouquet, Eden,” he corrected her gently and turning to head back to the house when she stopped him.

“Won’t we water the flowers today?”

Levi paused, a twinge of guilt tightening in his chest. So Eden has noticed; Levi has tried not to let the approaching date affect him, but your garden hasn’t been tended to in a week now. The weeds were beginning to creep in, some flowers were wilted and some of the bush was growing wildly in some places.

“Yeah,” he finally answers, his voice softening, “go get the watering can.”

Eden giggled with delight, small shoes pattering around the corner as Levi watched her disappear momentarily. The minutes felt long; a familiar worry settled in his bones, a worry he couldn’t quite shake when his daughter was out of sight.

Levi let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding when Eden finally reappeared. Watering can in tow, they watered the garden together. Levi’s brows were furrowed in concentration, trying not to overwater like you’ve taught him before.

I’ll tend to this later, Levi silently promised as they left the small garden and headed back into the house. He watched as Eden said her goodbyes to each and every flower, exerting patience where there once was none.

With the small basket in tow and a giggling Eden following closely behind, Levi began the familiar trek to the fields to see you.

“Papa, how come you married mama?”

Your toddler exhibited such curiosity that could drive Levi mad at times, but nonetheless he ensured to give her the information she wanted.

“I loved your mama, so I married her.”

Words like love still felt foreign in the former captain’s mouth. Yet, with time, it was getting just a little easier to speak of it—to speak of you.

“So people marry for love?”

Not always.

Very rarely.

“Of course,” he answered, voice steady.

Soon, the cobblestone paths diverted into dirt walkways. The small patch of flowers that had been growing from the cracks of the stone brick now flowed wildly in this section of the road.

Past the willow tree and into the flower fields, alone and by a motionless lake, you were there.

This is where Levi let love in—where he let you in. This is where Levi proposed.

This is where you rested.

“Mama, happy birthday!” Eden exclaimed, her voice ringing out in the quiet air. She took a seat next to the familiar gravestone, pouch already open as she emptied out its contents on the patch of grass she sat on.

Levi watched her for a moment, the weight of the day finally pressing heavily on his heart. Finally, he set the basket down, hand brushing light over the cool stone.

“Here’s this pebble I found today. You can have it, I already have one like it in my room…”

Levi could feel his throat closing up as Eden continued speaking, explaining every single gift she’s brought and what it meant. The pebble, a pink bow she’d begged Levi to buy (a bow he thought was for her), a drawing of a big house and a family of three.

A family of three, Levi wished his family of two could be a family of three. So many nights he spent hoping you were alive somewhere, not just in his mind—those quiet hours when the house felt too empty, and the silence too heavy.

Emotion was getting harder to combat with age, but Levi tried with all his might to refrain from crying. No, today his daughter deserved a moment of happiness, even if you being gone was killing him inside. Even if being here was killing him inside.

But Levi couldn’t stop the tears even if he wanted to.

“Is papa crying?”

He quickly wiped them away with his sleeve.

“No, it’s water.”

“…There was water in papa’s eyes yesterday, too.”

Eden was just like you, always so annoyingly observant. Levi could feel his heart twist at her words.

The flowers swayed peacefully in this part of the field, their soft colors blending with the golden light of the afternoon. The wind blew against Levi’s hair, tickling his face as he watched Eden run and play. A small smile etched itself on his scarred face in this fleeting moment of calm.

When Eden finally tired, she helped her papa clean up and put everything back in the basket. The gifts would stay, except the drawing. Levi had to find a way to secretly take it back home.

“Can we come back soon,” Eden asked, a hint of sadness finally making its way through.

Levi gave a firm nod. “Of course.”

There was a silent pause, a moment of deliberation for the young girl.

“Papa, how come mama can’t be with us?”

She died at childbirth.

“She’s busy,” was Levi’s gruff response, before letting out a heavy sigh. “Mama’s taking care of us…from the sky.” Levi was weary of religion, but if it meant he could spare even a shred of innocence for his daughter for the time being, he’s taking it, no questions asked.

“Mama’s an angel?”

A silent pause.

“Yeah, sure kid.”

She grinned, curiosity quelled for a short minute, before another thought burst through her tiny mind.

“Will you also be an angel one day?”

Levi could feel his heart stop. He hoped so, if it meant he could see you one day. He missed you so much—he missed your smile, your laugh, your playful kisses despite his half-hearted protests. For a brief moment, he allowed himself the comfort of an afterlife with you.

“Yeah, one day,” he finally managed to say, his voice almost breaking.

Eden smiled, her small face lighting up with an innocence that tugged at Levi’s heart.

“Papa, I love you,” Eden says so suddenly, “Mama loves you, too.”

Levi’s breath hitches, a warmth spreading through his chest. His eyes soften, he breaks into a rare, tender smile, one that hadn’t come easily for years.

“I love the both of you, too.”