Naturally, there were some marks and stains that would not come out no matter how he used the tools at his limited disposal. In cases like these, his practicality was stronger than his compulsion. The mattress was clean enough now that he could deign to use it; given its make, it would be much better for his sore body than a night on the hard floor. Whether Mikasa thought the same was up to her, though it was difficult to imagine she would be more bothered.

Using the rainwater, Levi thoroughly washed his hands and forearms, scrubbing until they were tingling and pristine. He strode over and crouched at his small, personal pack, then began to paw through it. Earlier, he thought he felt a suspicious lump that hadn't been there when he'd organized his things the night before. His inkling was confirmed: it was a round thing, wrapped in a handkerchief, and there was a gleam of red as he uncovered it.

An apple. Levi wasn't sure who could have sneaked it in, but he suspected it was either Erwin or Hange. But, more strongly, the sight of it made him think of Petra. Similar generosity had been her trademark, and if he'd chose to confront her later, she would have laughed and denied doing it, lying poorly while responding with something like: Captain, don't you know how many big fans you have among the troops? It made his chest feel hollow — but as always, the emptiness refilled shortly with stout resiliency.

Levi turned and held the apple above his shoulder so Mikasa could see it.

"Our dinner just got sweeter," he said. "We must have a big fan."

No matter that it had been among his personal things. It was something to share. Whoever put it there in the first place would certainly understand.