Chapter Text
Hange Zoe was many things: a genius, a scientist, a woman who could lose herself in experiments for days on end, and, as of recently, the reluctant heir to her parents' vast empire. She had spent most of her life immersed in research, chasing discoveries that pushed the boundaries of human knowledge, never once sparing a thought for boardrooms, stock markets, or the intricacies of high society. Yet, despite all her achievements, all the accolades she had earned through relentless pursuit of knowledge, none of it mattered in the face of her parents' final wish.
Her parents, kind and loving but burdened by tradition, had one request: to see their daughter married before her mother's health declined further. Her mother, once a force of nature, now spent most of her days in a quiet sunlit room, her body frail but her mind as sharp as ever. The cancer was relentless, a silent thief stealing away the warmth in her skin, the strength in her limbs. And though Hange despised the helplessness that came with watching someone she loved slip away, she knew there was little she could do to fight this battle for her.
It was on one of those quiet afternoons, with the scent of chamomile tea lingering in the air, that her mother had taken her hand and, in a voice softer than Hange had ever heard, spoken the words that changed everything.
"I just want to know you'll be happy, Hange. That you won't be alone."
Hange had never thought of marriage as something she needed. Her work had always been enough, her experiments giving her a sense of purpose that no romantic relationship ever had. But in that moment, staring into her mother's tired eyes, she realized that this wasn't just about her. It was about giving her mother peace in her final days, about easing the weight of worry from her father's shoulders.
And so, for the first time in her life, Hange Zoe, the woman who had always chosen science over sentiment, found herself at a crossroads she had never anticipated.
But Hange wasn't about to marry some stranger just because it was expected of her. It wasn't that she despised marriage itself. She understood its importance, especially to her parents, but she had never seen it as a necessary part of her life. Love, companionship, family; those were things she could appreciate from a distance, but marriage? That required trust, commitment, and a level of emotional investment she had never been able to afford.
Her work had always come first. Not because she was obsessed with it, but because it was what made sense. It was logical, measurable, and, unlike people, it didn't disappoint. Relationships, on the other hand, required a kind of vulnerability that had always felt foreign to her. She had watched couples fall apart over broken promises, families crack under the weight of unspoken expectations. Even her own parents, though deeply devoted to each other, had moments where the burden of duty overshadowed love. Hange didn't want that for herself.
So when her parents gently suggested a union with a wealthy businessman, someone with a stable reputation, a good name, and enough resources to ensure she would never have to worry about the company's future, Hange had hesitated. Not out of defiance, but because she knew what this really meant. It wasn't just about securing her parents' peace of mind; it was about stepping into a role she had spent her whole life avoiding.
But her mother's health was declining, and her father, though strong, was carrying the weight of too many worries. If signing a piece of paper could give them even a little comfort, then maybe it wasn't such a terrible idea.
Still, she had conditions.
No grand ceremony, no elaborate celebrations. Just a quick legal arrangement; efficient, straightforward, and requiring as little involvement as possible. She would sign the papers, take the necessary photos for proof, and go on with her life as usual. Her parents, relieved and trusting, agreed.
Hange told herself it was just a formality. Nothing would really change.
At least, that's what she wanted to believe.
*******
Meanwhile, Levi Ackerman was having a perfectly normal day. He had woken up early, gone for a run, and made himself a cup of tea before heading out. The morning had been quiet, routine. Just the way he preferred it. No interruptions, no unnecessary conversations.
A freelance contractor for his longtime friend and employer, Erwin Smith, Levi was used to odd jobs. He didn't ask too many questions. If Erwin needed something done, Levi handled it. Today's task was no different: pick up some documents, sign them, and drop them off. Simple.
The only unusual part was the suit.
"Just wear it, Levi," Erwin had said.
Levi had argued, of course, but Erwin was annoyingly persistent. So here he was, adjusting an unfamiliar tie and resisting the urge to rip the whole thing off. He hated feeling restricted, and while the fabric wasn't uncomfortable, it wasn't practical either. It was for appearances, something Levi couldn't care less about.
Still, a job was a job. The sooner he got this done, the sooner he could get back to things that actually mattered.
At least, that's what he thought.
******
When Levi arrived at the office, his eyes instinctively scanned the room. It was quiet, the kind of sterile silence that came with expensive furniture and too much artificial lighting. His attention settled on a woman sitting in the waiting area, hunched over a napkin, scribbling furiously.
She looked disheveled; her hair a messy halo around her face, glasses slipping down her nose as she muttered to herself. Whatever she was writing, she was completely absorbed in it, unaware of her surroundings. The napkin was already covered in cramped equations, ink smudged at the edges where her fingers had gripped it too tightly.
And yet, despite her distracted state, there was something undeniably striking about her.
She was dressed in a deep purple coat with intricate embroidery along the cuffs, the fabric rich and heavy, the kind that didn't just keep someone warm, it made a statement. Beneath it, she wore a high-collared blouse of the finest silk, the soft sheen catching the light in a way that made it look almost liquid. Her trousers were expertly tailored, and the boots she wore were polished, elegant, and lined with subtle gold detailing, hinted at wealth, but without the arrogance of someone who flaunted it. It was an outfit that spoke of old money, quiet sophistication, and a family name that carried weight.
And yet, here she was, slouched over a napkin like a sleep-deprived student cramming for an exam.
Then he remembered Erwin's words: "A talkative brunette woman. You won't miss her. She'll be wearing red."
She matched most of the description. Dark hair, sharp features, though at the moment, she looked like she had lost a fight with a wind tunnel. But red? There wasn't a trace of it.
Levi frowned slightly. Maybe she had taken off whatever red she was supposed to be wearing. Or maybe Erwin had gotten it wrong. Wouldn't be the first time.
He shrugged it off. It didn't matter.
Without hesitation, he stepped forward. "You the one I'm supposed to meet?"
"I assume you have some papers for me to sign," Levi said, his voice flat and to the point. No pleasantries, no unnecessary words, just straight to business.
Hange looked up, startled. The equations she had been scribbling faded into the background as she blinked at the man standing in front of her. He was nothing like she had imagined.
Her mind had conjured someone older, someone stiff, with slicked-back hair and an expensive watch he'd check every few minutes. A businessman too used to power, too accustomed to the world bending to his will. Instead, the man before her was... different.
He was sharp in every sense of the word, his features, his gaze, the way he carried himself. The suit, though clearly high quality, looked almost like an afterthought on him, as if he had only worn it out of obligation. His posture was relaxed yet precise, his steel-gray eyes watching her with quiet scrutiny, taking her in the same way she was studying him.
For a brief moment, she was thrown.
This is my fiancé?
She hadn't expected to find him interesting. Intriguing, even. And certainly not handsome.
The thought was unwelcome, so she shoved it aside as quickly as it had come. This wasn't a date. It wasn't even a real engagement. It was a business transaction, plain and simple.
Straightening her glasses, she cleared her throat, forcing her focus back to the matter at hand. "Right. Yes. The papers."
She said, handing him the documents, her fingers tapping absently against the table. "Just sign here, and here, and... yeah, that's it."
Levi took the papers, his sharp eyes skimming over them. The legal jargon blurred together, but nothing seemed out of place. Standard contract. He could have read it more thoroughly, but frankly, he didn't care enough. This was just another task to check off his list.
He clicked the pen open and signed his name with practiced ease, precise, efficient, no wasted motion. Once done, he slid the papers back across the table.
Hange barely glanced at them before pulling out her phone. "Pictures next," she announced, already opening the camera app.
Levi frowned. "Pictures?"
She nodded, adjusting the angle. "My parents couldn't make it, so I need proof."
Erwin hadn't mentioned anything about photos. Then again, Erwin had left out a lot of details today. Levi sighed but didn't argue. If this was part of the job, he'd get it over with.
Hange leaned in, slinging an arm casually around his shoulders as if they were old friends. Levi stiffened. He wasn't used to people touching him so easily, so carelessly, like it was nothing. She smelled like coffee and something sharper, chemicals, maybe. He could feel the warmth of her body against his side, the light weight of her arm.
Click. Click. Click.
She snapped a few quick photos, grinning slightly as she checked them. Levi caught a glimpse of the screen; He looked stiff, his expression unreadable, while Hange looked... effortlessly natural.
"Thanks," she said, tucking her phone away. "That's it. You're free to go."
Levi exhaled, already stepping back. "Great."
Levi nodded, gave her one last lingering look, and walked out. As he left, he couldn't shake the image of her from his mind. She was unlike anyone he'd ever met, chaotic but undeniably beautiful. He figured he'd never see her again, as interesting as she was. Life went on.