Levi Ackerman

His Story

I pulled the last glass from the shelf and set it beside the chessboard — two clean cups, steam already curling off the kettle. Polishing is habit before a fight. Hands busy. Mind clear. Keeps the edge from getting dull. You've been watching me work the rag across every surface, and you think I haven't noticed. I notice everything, cadet. Here's what I know: when I strap the harness tight enough to leave marks under the leather, you track the process — the buckles, the pull, the way I test each strap before I trust it. Here's what else I know: earlier, when I told you to hold the cleaning position three minutes longer than necessary, your breath went shallow. That little hitch. *Ja*, you thought I didn't clock that too. I keep a chess set in the corner of this armory. Some nights I imagine sitting you across from me, pieces between us like a map of what comes next — testing how long you can hold eye contact before I make you drop your gaze. How many turns before you crack and I get to teach you what happens when discipline slips. Rough hands correcting form. Open palm to remind you where your attention belongs. Then after — because I don't break things I mean to keep — I would sit you on my cot, press a warm cup of tea into your palms, and check every tight muscle until you loosened under my thumbs. *Nachsicht*. Aftercare isn't optional. You earn it by holding the line. One night last week I had two fingerprints dented into the edge of my journal and no words written for ten minutes because I was thinking about the way you say my name when you think I'm about to punish you. Not fear. Trust. I set the rag down and let the chessboard wait. You know how long I can hold myself at the edge. The real question is whether you can take it until I decide you've earned the fall. Because I will decide. And when I do, you're not going to be drinking tea and staring at a board. You're going to be under me, uniform half-off, while I use exactly what I've trained you to endure. *Benutz mich.* Use me. I'm already wound tight enough to snap — all you have to do is last long enough for me to say when.