*Reader's POV*

The sound of new recruits in the midst of combat training filled the air, a cacophony of moving feet, cries of attack, sounds of pain, accelerated heartbeats and the occasional shouted order from a supervisor. The wind was strong enough to blow hair about your face, but not enough to be cutting, the sun beating down from above warm enough to drive away any chill from the wind. The occasional sliding foot kicked dust up into the air, making it hard not to sneeze as your sensitive nose became agitated from all the dust in the air. Your arms were held up in an at the ready stance, but your mind wasn't entirely on the training that was happening in front of you.

The Survey Corps. At long last, you managed to make it past your training in the Cadet Corps and choose your branch of the military to go into. Despite the high death rate and the negative publicity the Survey Corps got, it had been your clear goal since day one. It was the only place you felt you could go where you might feel useful, where these abilities of yours could finally be put to good use.

Of course, you weren't through with the training phase quite yet. The Scouts had their own tests to put the new recruits through, unique maneuvers and combat preparation that would also help determine where you were going to go within the regiment. You still had to get past this sorting period, so you didn't let yourself get celebratory yet.

But still, two years of hard work in the Cadet Corps, learning to readjust, learning your limits, refining mannerisms, careful planning and consideration into your every move.

Of course, that wasn't what it looked like to your classmates. To them, you were well aware that you were the cold and aloof antisocial bitch that would knock everyone to the ground like they were nothing in the combat training, and always kept everyone at a distance.

It wasn't that you were hateful, far from it. You just didn't want to risk anyone getting too close to you while you were in the Cadets. And it wasn't your fault if the training came too easily for you–you couldn't help your nature. Hell, most of your focus had gone into holding back and restraining yourself since day one. While you wanted to make an impression and prove your skill and worth in combat, you didn't want to stand out too much and draw unwanted attention. It had taken ridiculous amounts of concentration and effort, carefully planned throws on tests and combat evaluations, in order to purposely place at sixth in the top ten. Skilled, but not a shining star that would get full attention.

But that first place spot could have easily been yours, if you didn't have to be so careful about how you presented yourself.

As important as it was to do well in these tests to get properly placed somewhere you and your abilities could be of use, you still had to maintain the front of someone who ranked sixth, not suddenly display all the skill and strength that belonged to someone easily top of the class. Not to mention, you were on a time limit for something far more important to your stay in the cadets for the long run.

This was your grace period to figure out what you needed to do in order to blend in with everyone else. And not just in skill. Your main concern was your food source.

Back in the cadets, in had started as a painful struggle, having to find ways to sneak out without anyone noticing so you could get a proper bite that would last you at least half a month. The cadets had also been your trial by fire to see how well you could handle freshly spilled blood in front of you, though you were painfully aware that particular test was only going to get more difficult when you went out into the field and Titans started eating people.

Right now at the Scouts, though, you didn't even have escape routes, predetermined, best routes to sneak out and get a drink without anyone noticing. You hadn't pinned down sleeping schedules for everyone yet, either, so you could figure out who you needed to be wary of when you were trying to sneak out. If you couldn't find good times to sneak out and the best ways to leave and return undetected, then your time with the Scouts would prove to be painfully short, for your own safety.

And you wanted to stay here as long as possible, for reasons that had taken root deep in your heart.

Of course, you still had to worry about the training and some basic parts of being a Scout, as well. You were still frustrated with yourself for forgetting one of the simplest things–the horses. Of course, you got a painful reminder when you entered the stables and the majority of the horses got nervous and skittish while the rest went wild.

Not everything was easy to you. You now had to find and befriend a horse that you could hopefully keep with you that wouldn't be afraid of the predator it could sense in you. It was going to take time, and you were certain this oddity about you had already been noticed, but hopefully when you befriended one of the horses, any sparked suspicions would go away.

Then there was the ODM gear. Obviously you could operate it, you wouldn't be here if you couldn't. The problem was that your instincts and reflexes could happen faster than the gear could operate. It made it difficult to slow down and operate it properly when you were running on instinct, and even after two years in the Cadets you were still trying to temper your natural instincts to slow down to something the gear could keep up with. Though you had managed in your personal training time to also craft some maneuvers of your own that was more forgiving to your sharp reflexes and instincts, maneuvers that actually required more physical movement and less dependability on the cables. The less you tried to do with the gear and more you did with your own body, the less of a chance you had to screw up a maneuver by going too fast for the gear to execute at a costly moment.

But out of everything in this grace period that was going to be the most difficult, it was the social aspect. You always kept everyone at a distance because you didn't want anyone to get close enough to find out what you were, or to risk them getting hurt. As such, you usually came off as antisocial or rude, when really it was maddeningly lonely for you. But what else were you supposed to do? You didn't even want to think of what kind of a disaster could unfold if you allowed yourself to get close to someone, they found out what you were, reacted negatively and then...and then what? What were you supposed to do with a threat to your safety when it was someone you'd grown close to?

You shuddered at the thought every time it wandered into your mind. This was one of your greatest concerns with being around people again, but now, you were in a situation where you were going to have to do the balancing act flawlessly anyway. One thing you had learned watching the Scouts so far was that there was a degree of trust and closeness in the community. Privacy was still a thing, obviously, and you didn't have to be best friends with everyone...but people had to know you could be trusted, that you would have their backs out in the field. You had to be amicable at the very least with people–you couldn't keep them all pushed far away or give them a reason to think you might be hiding something. You were going to have to start making friends with your comrades despite your reservations, but you couldn't quite figure out how to start.

This was what you got for being a hermit living by herself for oh so long before coming back to the surface, back into daylight, back around people–

Your sparring partner shifted, and your eyes refocused slightly on the match in front of you. It seemed he was going to be one of the many who had seen the glazed over look in your eyes and assumed they could get the drop on you because you weren't paying attention.

Just like everyone else, he was about to find out how wrong he was.

As he charged you, you reacted rather instinctively, grabbing at his arm and sweeping his leg out from under him before sending him to the ground on his own momentum.

"How?" he fumed. "You weren't even paying attention!"

"You probably shouldn't assume that of your opponent," you returned calmly. Just because you'd been lost in your own thoughts didn't mean you weren't paying attention.

Your partner wilted slightly, looking dejected, and you had to stop and do some mental math to figure out how long the two of you had been sparring. It was probably best if you let him win this next one. Both so you could break this perfect streak and so he could get a bit of his pride and confidence back. Plus, you'd get to rotate to a new partner, and the cycle would start fresh. He could probably use some time matched more evenly against someone anyway. It wasn't fair to anyone who got matched with you, even if they didn't know it.

What were they supposed to do against someone they thought was human, that was anything but?

You fell back into your at-the-ready stance, watching him closely this time to make sure you knew exactly what he was going to do. He came at you again, his feet planted firmly, form practically perfect–

–you shifted one of your feet so that you were standing just a little too wide–

–and this time as he tackled you, he was able to easily knock you off your feet. Not too easily, you made sure there was enough resistance he found it believable, but for the most part, you let him knock you to the ground.

"Yes!" he cried successfully as he sprang back to his feet, the elation of finally receiving a victory causing his blood to rush in your ears. You closed your eyes and took your time getting calmly to your feet, brushing yourself off as you regained control of yourself.

You'd had a brief spike of hunger with his blood pumping so close to you. Thankfully, you had some practice controlling your thirst in these kinds of situations after so long in the Cadets.

While you were getting up, one of your overseers called for a switch in partners now that he had finally won a bought against you. You got to your feet as your partner scurried away in relief, brushing hair from your face as you waited expectantly to see who would be matched up with you this time.

Unfortunately, it seemed someone had caught your throw this time.

Instead of another new recruit stepping in front of you, a well maintained shock of raven hair and sharp pale blue eyes entered your vision as Captain Levi himself approached, his gaze centered solely on you.

You'd known he was helping supervise the new recruits–all the squad leaders and section commanders were rotating through so they could get a feel for the new recruits and see if there was anyone specifically they wanted with them. You hadn't realized, however, that you'd caught his attention. But instead of looking pleased, he seemed a little irked.

Quickly, you snapped to a salute, body tense for a few moments as you waited to see what he was going to say. You already knew it wasn't going to be praise.

"Throwing matches doesn't help anyone," Levi said bluntly, his sharp gaze fixated on you.

Fuck, he'd noticed that? You supposed anyone paying close enough attention could catch it, but you'd hoped you were being subtle enough your throws would go undetected.

Then again, this was an entirely different field from the Cadets. You were among the true elite, if you were going to put a bit of your bias in there, and if anyone was going to catch on...

You needed to be more careful.

"I felt he would benefit more from a different sparring partner, sir," you said stiffly. It wasn't a lie–hell, anyone would do better if they were paired with someone other than you. You didn't mean for that to sound cocky, but it was the truth. You were naturally designed to outmatch humans.

"You don't seem to be putting much effort into this training, either. Do you feel it's beneath you, cadet?" Levi asked, his voice low. Some of your old classmates that had come to the Scouts as well were letting their eyes wander to the scene in the middle of the training field, most likely looking forward to the frigid 'slacker' finally get what was coming to her.

"Quite the opposite, sir. Titans aren't the only threat in the world–you never know when you'll need training like this," you countered, meeting his gaze as you gave a reason that you'd once uttered to shut down the dismissal of other cadets for these person on person combat training exercises. You had your own demons these kinds of moves could be used against, but there were also plenty of...unpleasant...people in the world. You never knew when your life would be threatened by another person, and it was in those moments when you would want this kind of training.

Of course, with your reflexes and strength, it was easier to execute them. Your learning process went into learning the techniques, and once you had that down, you really didn't have much to worry about.

There was a spark of curiosity in Captain Levi's eyes at your answer–apparently it hadn't been a wrong one. You recognized the training's value instead of brushing it off like most people. And most people who did realize its value usually didn't state it openly like you just had. Maybe you should have cut that last part out.

He still didn't look pleased, though, which was understandable if his observations had led him to believe you weren't taking this training as seriously as it should, that you were brushing it off.

"Then you wouldn't mind showing me what you've learned. I'll expect perfection with that attitude of yours," Levi said in a flat voice, taking a few more steps until he was standing opposite you. There was a dangerous note in his voice, and you had the feeling he intended to make you take this sparring seriously, with full attention.

"Sir?"

Levi didn't answer. He fell into an at the ready position across from you, and you realized he wasn't going to give you time to ask any more questions. He was about to attack, and you had better be ready for it.

You finally dropped the salute that had loosened during your brief conversation, falling back into a similar at the ready position and feeling your attention start to sharpen. Around you, people were turning their attention away from their training to see Captain Levi give the careless newbie a lesson.

A small part of you whispered that perhaps you should let him take you down right out of the gates, have him teach you the lesson and then move on, deal with the fact you'd made a poor impression on the captain of the Elite Squad.

You let out a slow breath, the world snapping into attention as you honed in on your opponent, Humanity's Strongest.

Something inside you refused to lay down and take it. You were going to at least show him that you had potential. This was your moment to prove that it wasn't all bravado and charades. You had skill to back it up, you were capable, and you were not some slacker that wasn't taking any of this seriously. You were here to fight, to help in the push against the Titans,, no matter what anyone thought from their first impression of you. You were here to stay.

Levi's eyes flashed, and your body instinctively tensed for the oncoming attack as he darted forward with an almost inhuman speed. You clamped down on your instinct to use your truly inhuman speed to step out of the way, instead choosing to block or at least re-direct the blow with his foot with your arm as you went low, ducking under the kick and coming up on his side. Levi was already turning when you were halfway up, and his fist connected with your side, causing you to take a few steps back.

Shit, that hurt. He really was going to teach you a lesson to take this seriously, wasn't he? If you didn't want to end up beat to hell, you better be ready to show him you were learning.

And after the strength of that blow and the speed of his attack, you were going to have to put some actual effort into this.

Levi was already coming in again with another attack, fist cutting through the space between the two of you. You turned your body aside to avoid it, knee coming up to try and get him in the gut. He knocked it aside with his other arm as you blocked the one that had tried to punch you from coming at you again, grabbing onto his forearm and bringing yourself into his space. You threw a punch of your own, still holding back to avoid seriously hurting him, but he blocked it just as quickly, the two of you grappling up close with a series of punches, blocks, and shifted feet before you decided to break away, fists still up and ready for a pursuit. He kept using his small stature to get under your defenses and go after your weak spots, using momentum and your own weight against you. But you were able to return in kind, upping the effort you put into your offense and defense with every block or failed hit.

You could hear his heart, which had started so steady and calm, starting to pick up from effort and exertion as well–so you weren't the only one who had started to put effort into this fight. You were both two combatants that rarely found someone on their level to fight, and now here you were.

A voice in the back of your mind screamed to stop and throw the fight before you gave away too much, but you couldn't stop yourself, your own heart pounding with excitement. When was the last time someone could actually challenge you? Which one of you was actually capable of winning this fight?

Hell, you'd never thought someone human could stand toe to toe with you in basic hand to hand without bringing some dirty tricks to the match, but here you were. As exciting as it was, there was also something strangely...relieving, about it. Reassuring.

Levi's knee flashed through your vision, and you had to lean back, hands coming down to meet it and stop the assault before it could connect with your chin.

Reflection could come later, right now...well, you should really be throwing this fight, but you couldn't bring yourself to do it. You kept meeting his attacks and coming in with your own, no matter how much reason screamed at you to stop.

Suddenly, Levi switched tactics, and instead of coming in to hit you, he grappled you to the ground, the two of you now caught in a tussle to see who could pin the other and end this fight. His arm started to snake around your throat, and you quickly placed an arm against your throat to break the incoming hold, dropping your shoulder with hands wrapped around his forearm to throw him over you. He managed to keep his grip for the most part, but he was no longer in the position to choke you out from behind.

His heartbeat, as well as your own, continued to pound in your ears, telling you just how much you both were fighting. This had rapidly changed from a lesson to be taught into a straight up match at some point, both of you fighting for dominance, with not a single peep from the onlookers as both of you started throwing in dirty tactics that looked more like skills learned on the streets than something taught in military training.

He'd landed some solid hits on you, easily bruising your body where he connected, but so had you. Of course, you were still trying to be careful and not hurt him, but the longer this fight went on, the less restraint you showed, because all the while you were testing his limits, seeing how far you could safely go, and you had yet to see a sign that it had been to far.

At this rate, I wouldn't mind this being a regular thing. This is exhilarating.

In the scuffle, Levi ended up below you in the middle of a roll, and you took advantage of the position, leg planted firmly behind him near his head, arm grasping his and pulling it up, about to trap him in a position where he wouldn't be able to move without breaking a limb.

You felt a tingle on the back of your neck as your eyes met.

Levi's eyes widened in surprise.

Your ears perked at the first sign of whispers among your spectators.

"Is she...gonna beat Captain Levi?"

"I thought he was Humanity's Strongest?"

"Some random cadet is gonna beat Levi?"

Your heart froze, even as your body kept moving.

He couldn't hear the whispers, not that you felt he cared much about such a moniker, but you could hear, and you did care. Levi knew he was about to be beat, you could see the flicker of realization in his eyes. And right now, with both of you putting effort into this fight and no attempts to throw from you so far, he might pounce on an opening without seeing it for the throw it was.

Maybe.

Whether that was true or not, this fight had to end, and it had to end one way.

Your grip shifted slightly on his arm, your foot slid slightly to the side, and you changed your weight distribution, giving him a split second window he could still get out of this. And just as you'd hoped, he took full advantage, breaking your grip on his arm and knocking you off balance with your now unsecure stance and uneven weight distribution. As quickly as you'd started to pin him, Levi suddenly leapt on top, his arm pressed hard against your chest as you found yourself flat on your back, wind knocked out of you abruptly by the fast move.

In the brief second before Levi pulled away, you saw disappointment in his eyes.

Right.

This all started because he realized you were throwing fights. And now you'd just thrown the fight with him. Whether or not he knew why was up for debate, but what matters was he knew you threw it at the last second.

Levi got to his feet, brushing dirt off himself with distaste before he stared down at you with a face that looked perfectly controlled, though those eyes of his were gazing at you with a thousand thoughtful emotions that made you uneasy as you sat up.

"Put that effort into sparring with your comrades, and they might learn something," he said dismissively, then turned and left the field, most likely to go clean himself up.

You got to your feet, expression hidden by hair that had fallen loose in the match. Now that it was over, you were able to think more clearly, and you were chastising yourself thoroughly on the inside for such a stupid move.

Who cared if it had felt exhilarating to spar with someone on even ground? Who cared if you hadn't wanted to give him the wrong impression of you on what might have been his first time seeing you? Who cared if the feeling of realizing there was someone out there that wasn't what you were, that could fight you like that, was akin to not feeling so alone for the briefest second?

You shouldn't have done that. You weren't supposed to be drawing that kind of attention to yourself. It was sloppy and stupid and you could only see it resulting in trouble. You should have thrown the match far earlier than when you had, you shouldn't have given everyone the impression that you could take Levi's title from him.

Because even if it could, even if you were able to best him in a fight, you shouldn't. Not in public, anyway, where word could spread and people started calling you the strongest instead. It wasn't right, and the thought made you feel dirty and ashamed.

A vampire shouldn't have the title of Humanity's Strongest.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

*Levi's POV*

Coming out of the bath with damp hair still hanging on his face and shirt not buttoned up yet, Levi let out a soft sigh and leaned against the wall beside his office window, hand brushing thoughtfully over a nasty bruise he'd gotten in that sparring match from the cadet, his mind lost in thought even as he started carefully buttoning up the shirt.

That...had not turned out like he'd expected it to.

When he saw her throw that match so cleverly after watching her act with such clear distance during the training, he'd been irritated at the thought that she wasn't taking the training seriously. Or that she might think throwing the fight helped her opponent somehow by making him think they'd won on their own merit. They weren't going to learn if they were allowed to win. If anything, such a move hurt their progress more than it helped, so he'd intended to put a stop to that thinking before it got too far. Besides, with how carefully she timed and planned that throw, she had to have some kind of real skill she was hiding.

What he couldn't understand was why she would hold back. Especially now, at the stage where the aptitude shown decided where each recruit would be tasked.

No matter what the reason behind it all, he'd felt a push was necessary to make her step it up and start trying. Seeing her standing there appearing not to take any of it seriously had been irksome, and he wasn't going to let it happen while he was on the training grounds.

As he'd thought, she'd sharpened up when he challenged her. There was no far away glaze in her eyes when he stepped up to spar her, just unbridled focus and determination, perhaps even a bit of excitement. For a moment, he'd despised it because he thought it was because she was one of those, so hell bent on impressing him, everything else be damned. The kind of attitude that got people killed out in the field because they were too busy trying to impress instead of actually learn, that showed people to be nothing more than squabbling children who weren't taking any of this seriously.

As the fight progressed and she started to show her true strength, though, it started to make more sense.

He could still vividly picture the shift in her demeanor, the glint in her eyes the second before their spar began. How at that moment, he knew he was about to see if she was sitting on true potential and was paying attention, or was just blowing smoke up people's asses and blowing it all off.

He'd been fully ready to knock her into the dirt in that first strike to knock reality back into her, but that wasn't what happened. He'd been genuinely surprised when she managed to block and keep up with him, even more with how well she was able to return what he gave her. Quickly he'd abandoned the thoughts of teaching an arrogant cadet a lesson and instead started to prod at her capabilities, intrigued and impressed with what he found. Being able to spar with someone on such even ground was a rarity, and he'd found the experience rather...exhilarating.

She was faster and stronger than she appeared, just like him. She was also quite clever–predictably, considering the care she'd put into throwing her matches–and had clearly been paying attention to the taught techniques. However, when he'd thrown something street learned and not taught by the military, she hadn't flinched, and pulled a few underhanded street fighting techniques of her own.

Which gave him a peek at her background, as well. If he was to look, he would bet his salary that he would find that she got into some kind of trouble in the past–the illegal kind.

Several of her blows had, clearly, hurt, which told him she wasn't holding back anymore–at least not as much. A part of him could tell, through their whole fight, that there was still something she was holding back with, just like he was. He hadn't tapped into that strange power of his, not fully, and she had also kept herself from using her full potential–something tipped off by the fact her attacks had been getting progressively faster and harder. Of course, in a spar, you weren't supposed to go all out–for example, neither of them were trying to do anything lethal. But even then, she was sitting on something.

Now he was fairly confident the reason she'd been holding back on the others had been to avoid hurting a comrade by accident. That he couldn't fault her for, but she still shouldn't have been throwing the fights. They needed to learn, and making them think they'd won didn't help them.

Of course, there was also the glaring fact of how she'd ended that fight.

He had definitely been shocked the moment he'd realized she was about to pin him. Of course it hadn't been anywhere in his mind that a younger rookie would beat him in a spar–before today he would have thought that kind of suggestion was madness. But she'd done it, and for the briefest moment, just before she would have pinned him, he saw the faintest red glimmer in her eyes.

Then some kind of realization hit her, she seemed to register she was about to win as well, and she'd shifted. At first, he'd thought she'd simply hesitated, that her unbalance had come from getting inside her own head in the middle of the fight, and he had pounced on that opportunity. There was another part of that moment that was worrisome to him, though.

For some reason, he'd reacted off a survival instinct, even though he was well aware that it was a spar. It hadn't been a mere moment of 'I want to win this fight,' but a split second where he felt like an eagle pinned down by a horned owl, where natural instinct told him if he didn't break free...

But of course...it had just been a spar, no matter what the novel moment had made him feel for a split second.

Of course, once he had her pinned beneath him, he realized how easy the motion had been–to easy for someone who was a hair's breath away from being pinned and the fight being over. And he could tell from the look in her eyes, the dulling of that sharp gaze and the distance in her posture, that she'd thrown the fight.

Again.

Of course he was disappointed. The entire spar had started because she'd been throwing matches with her fellow recruits, and at the last second, when she would have pinned even him and proven what she was capable of, she backed off. She held back.

The only two who knew she really won that fight was him, and her.

He knew she'd been holding back the whole time. That she threw at the end. That there was a dangerous edge to her. That even if he went all out, there was a chance she could take him.

Levi looked out his office window, which overlooked the training grounds that were now empty after combat training had finished. Why did she do it? Why did she throw the fight? Why was she hiding her potential instead of showing what she was truly capable of? What did she want to hide, and why was she trying to hide it?

Who was she?

Did she have a power similar to his own?

Did he want her on his squad? That question he was far more unsure about, because while her raw skill alone tempted him to recruit her to the Elite Squad, something stirred uneasily in his gut about her. From the look in her eyes, that glint, that moment of survival instincts kicking in, all the unknowns...

There were too many questions and too many unknowns about her right now. He wasn't about to act hastily. First, he needed to learn what he could about this new recruit, ask around and keep an eye on her from a distance. Once his questions were answered...

Well, that all depended on what he would find after some digging.