Chapter Text
Historia jogged to the entrance of the mall, checking her phone screen, barely missing falling head first into the closed glass door.
Ah, fuck
She tapped her fingers on the grimy handrail of the escalator, too full with people to walk the steps herself, hoping she wouldn’t miss the start of the film. It had already been a shitty day. She woke up with a migraine, the bus was fifteen minutes late. And yesterday she got the email with her shitty exam grades. She couldn’t remember a non-shitty day actually.
Reaching the first floor, she hastily slipped the movie ticket out of her small backpack, tucking it in her jeans pocket, making her way to the long line of people waiting to order snacks. The popcorn machines were working full time, the employees constantly moving about, opening the freezers, scooping nachos in the little paper containers, people murmuring, talking aloud. It all became white noise as Historia finally reached the counter, handing over her student ID. It read ‘Krista Lenz’.
She got the one dollar discount for her popcorn and headed straight to auditorium 3, row F, seat 12. The room was chilly as always and thankfully, the audience seemed to lack families and teenagers. The movie titles were already running so the lights were off.
“Shit”, she murmured under her breath and made her way to her seat, bending down and trying not to trip on the stairs or on anyone’s feet. She finally flopped on the red cushions, displeased faces finally turning away.
The movie was good. So was the popcorn. She popped the crunchy kernels inside her mouth one by one, until all that was left was the salty, greasy dust on the bottom of the bucket. She’d probably get a stomach ache later but who gave a shit. Finals were finally over and she wanted to shove her face in an extra large popcorn, watching a mainstream horror flick. She put the paper bucket behind her feet, wiping her fingers on a napkin, focusing on the last part of the film. Her face changed colors as the screen flashed from darkness to bright light, cheap jump-scares making her body fill with adrenaline.
The ending credits started rolling and she left, head dizzy from the abrupt change of lightning and temperature. She liked the feeling of the movies. It felt like a new reality, her senses all fogged up. She liked feeling she could escape, even momentarily, from her actual life, the ceaseless shitty days. Not that it was especially bad. She had no parents and no friends, sure, but she had enough money to pay for a small apartment and a student diet that didn’t consist of mostly junk food. The facts that her monthly allowance came from an off shore account and that her ID read a name that wasn’t her own didn’t matter. Or at least, she tried to keep it away from the forefront of her mind.
Her dusty sneakers hit the pavement quietly, her back already curving from the accumulated soreness from weeks of studying and exams. Her stomach growled, displeased from the day’s quality of food. As she was passing beneath the flickering street lights of a mostly abandoned street, a few minutes away from her apartment complex, the humming of an engine came into focus. The car was moving slowly, Historia realized, too slowly for an empty street, too slowly to even be searching for an address.
She swallowed hard, gripping her pack’s strap. The lights of the car were off.
This was no time to panic. She had thought of situations like these, thinking she could end up in one for various reasons. So she acted quickly.
She sprinted, moving to grab her phone and scream, but the car’s engine suddenly roared, the sounds of doors opening and heavy footsteps approaching incredibly fast making her heart drop. She didn’t even get the chance to open her mouth before she felt a body grab her from behind, almost crushing her, a hand coming to cover her mouth. A covered face came into view then, a tiny glint of something metallic in the corner of her eye the last thing she saw before a painful sting throbbed throughout her arm, her surroundings suddenly fuzzy. The sidewalk and the buildings began to swirl and twist. Her legs kicked and she tried to scream, focus her eyes, something, anything to stay awake. But only two seconds passed before her head fell limp and her eyes closed, passing out and getting dragged back into the black SUV.
O
Ymir’s phone buzzed on the night stand, a hand flopping upon its nicked surface to grab it blindly. She squinted, scowling. She wondered why the hell they were calling her in the middle of the night. But the illuminating letters spelled, ‘OFFICE’, so her thumb quickly swiped across the screen. Her voice was rough from sleep, an unusual good night of one that she knew was completely ruined. “Hello?”
“Ymir, sorry to call you at this hour”, the secretary’s voice echoed through the speakers.
“Yeah”. Ymir, got up, regretfully leaving the warm sheets, wiping her eyes and padding to the kitchen for some water, bedhead wild and limbs still floppy. She scratched the skin beneath the waistband of her boxers, unceremoniously swallowing water from a plastic bottle.
The secretary waited until the crunching sounds from the plastic ended, eyes rolling. “Mr. Reiss is expecting you to have arrived in an hour. You will be briefed for further details upon arrival”
“Yeah, yeah I’ll be there”
She tossed the phone on the couch, heading straight to the bathroom. She showered, dressed and packed in less than twenty minutes, grabbing her helmet and taking the stares to the garage of the apartment complex. She threw her leg over her Kawasaki Ninja, loving the rumble of the engine beneath her as she sped to the street, the motorcycle roaring as she reached the highway, thirty minutes away from the Reiss estate.
She arrived ten minutes early. The armed guards of the back entrance let her in without even asking for an ID, but padding her down, and checking her gym bag, getting her bike and keys. Ymir quickly reached the small building located far behind the mansion. She dialed the pin and the door opened with a ding, letting her in the security personnel’s locker rooms. The woman’s room was empty. She opened her locker, placing her gym bag and helmet inside. Her work suit was hanging on the inside of the door, washed and ironed. She changed, taking off her motorcycle pants and jacket and her creased t- shirt, putting on the white dress shirt and black suit, dark dress shoes following. She stood in front of the mirror, making sure the clay was keeping her hair in place, straightening the collar of the button down. She put her earpiece in place, as well as the waistband holster carrying her handgun, adjusting it so that it sat snugly on the back of her hips.
More than satisfied, she rummaged through her bag and popped some gum in her mouth and slipped the packet in her pocket, the cooling, spicy effect spreading on her tongue, putting her in full work mode. Her instructors always scolded her about it, about how inappropriate it was that she chewed gum during shooting practice, how unprofessional it would look to potential clients. Thing is, when they saw her aim, it immediately shut them up. She might have lied and told them that the chewing motion helped her focus, but that didn’t matter. She graduated first in her class and landed the best fucking gig a bodyguard could ask for, so who the hell cared that her body reacted like a Pavlov’s dog when she chewed a peppermint gum. Last but not least, she sprayed some good men’s cologne on her wrist.
Off she was, long legs striding to the main building, crossing the large backyard that was the size of her whole apartment complex. At this hour the estate was silent, only the rustling of the many trees and bushes being the loudest sound. They were away from any big streets after all. Mr. Reiss really valued his privacy.
The hidden spotlights on the sides of the narrow path that lead to the house shined a bright yellow as Ymir finally reached the door, displaying her ID to the guards, passing through a second round of more thorough screening. They let her in, nodding.
She covered the large, illuminated hallway, the floor covered with thick, luscious carpet and the walls mostly empty, save for a couple of pieces of artwork here and there. She pressed the button of the staff’s elevator. Arriving at the second floor, she headed straight to the carved, mahogany door and slipped inside, quietly leaning against the wall as the head of security sifted through some envelopes, about to begin the five minute briefing on their mission.
Annie was sitting at a chair in the corner, her small form as taught as ever and her legs crossed on top of another chair. Their supervisor shot her a couple of sharp looks that she promptly ignored, sipping on her coffee. Mikasa sat in first row, of course, as straight as a razor, her small notebook and pen ready on her lap.
As the man greeted them and began the briefing, his large frame and bald head covering half the smart-board of the small meeting room, Ymir lost her usual haughty expression, her eyebrows lifting, not even chewing her gum with the usual fervor but only out of habit. As the board showed the picture and information of the person of interest, Ymir’s head started working overtime, rumors and controversial news articles from years ago coming into mind.
Well, if this ain’t interesting
O
Historia awoke with a sharp breath, her mind needing only a few seconds to signal that she should run. But-
What the hell
She blinked, taking in the ceiling above, the feel of thick sheets beneath her skin. This didn’t look at all like a place she was expecting to end up in. It really wasn’t… It was a room. A huge room, a bedroom that looked like it came out of those stock photo images, the only difference was that it looked like she was in a goddamn five star hotel suite. She shot up, getting up from the double-
Or is it triple?-
-bed, her shoes touching a lush, neutral toned carpet. The room had neutral colors as well, mixed with dark, modern furniture. There were hidden ceiling lights that lit the space beautifully and-
No… No, no, no…
The thought hit her like a truck. There really was only one explanation for this. A rustling sound made her jump, turning towards it. It was a woman, a small, blonde woman in a black suit. She lifted her head, letting the phone she was holding on one hand and the plastic cup of coffee on the other down, getting up from the leather armchair she had sunk in on the small reading corner. She approached, large sunken eyes, a roman nose and an oval face coming into view.
Historia noticed her attire, the earpiece cable turning around her neck and her eyes narrowed. “Who the hell are you”
The woman stopped walking and clasped her hands behind her back, in an utterly professional manner. “I am Annie Leonhart. I am employed as Rod Reiss’s private security personnel. You are currently at his residence. You are safe and will not be harmed under any circumstances. I am at your disposal at all hours for anything you need”
Historia’s eyes were wide open, unable to accept what was happening, the ridiculous voice of the woman, who was talking as if she was some underpaid retail employee, speaking with a customer service voice. She took a step forward, voice strained. “You’re telling me I got kidnapped from the middle of the street and now all is well and that I’m safe? What the is wrong with you! I’m not a fucking dog to be moved around when people feel like it! My father had promised this was over, that the only thing I’d ever see from him was the money in my bank account every month…”. She trailed off, voice quivering. She sat back on the bed, her eyes watering all of a sudden.
“I am afraid I can not provide any more information. I was not in charge of your relocation. But, I was told to inform you that you will soon be provided with an explanation. That is all I know”. Well that was a big lie. ”I will be outside. Simply call if you need anything. Also, there is a button on the bed side table. Ring it for the maid”
Historia just blinked, a shocked and incredulous smile on her face, as the woman closed the door behind her. “My relocation…”, she chuckled ironically.
Two hours passed with Historia pacing around the room. The things she had struggled to suppress were coming back in full force and she let them come, seething with rage.
How she was raised by her grandparents in a shabby little apartment, her mother alive and well but nowhere to be found. How nobody ever answered her questions about her, or her father. Why the hell she had two different names but only one was aloud outside of their house. And that one day, when she was seven years old, when her mother rang the door bell of the front door, looking and smelling fresh, wearing clothes Historia knew were very precious, that she had to be careful not to soil, like her two good dresses Nana always told her to be very careful of because they couldn’t afford new ones. Her mother disappeared inside the kitchen with her grandparents, but not before her grandpa grabbed the remote control from Historia’s little hand and changed the news channel to cartoons. Historia remembered what the news anchor was talking about like it was yesterday.
The tragic freak accident that took the lives of Rod Reiss’s wife and five children, their private jet crashing into the ocean on their way to their summer house across the globe.
Historia waited in the living room, her whole body shaking with excitement of finally meeting her mom. Minutes and minutes passed, what seemed like centuries in her little mind. But the creaking door eventually did open and Historia made her move, just like she was planning for so long, while she was waiting for them to come out of the kitchen.
She saw the glimpse of the dark coat her mother was wearing and that is all she needed to lunge onto her, hugging her legs and exclaiming in the loudest voice she could that she loved her and that she would be the best daughter ever. She made sure her voice was extra loud. The kids at school that pushed her around always said how weak and dumb her voice was, she didn’t want her mother to think the same.
Her bright eyes raised, removing her face from the fuzzy coat she had momentarily nuzzled into. What she got as a reply was a look, a look that she still hadn’t deciphered despite the 13 years that had passed. She probably never would. Her mother’s soft hands pushed her away and she was out the door, Historia frozen in place, listening to the click clack of her heels slowly get quieter and quieter. Historia wailed and tried to run after her, barely reaching the door before her grandpa took her in his arms, speaking soothing gibberish that Historia’s screams muffled.
At least they let her stay home the next day, her grandma constantly hugging her and making her her favorite cookies. She didn’t go to school the next day either. Or the next after that. Her grandma announced to her that night, while Historia played with her dolls in the living room, that they were moving. That Historia would go to a brand new school, far away from here, a school that only important kids went to. That they would have more money now and that Historia could get as many Barbies and Legos as she wished.
And Historia was happy for a while because grandma was right. They got a bigger house in a better neighborhood, with a large yard she could play in. She got a bunch of new clothes and toys. But then school started and she had stepped into hell. As if she was a pawn that had just changed positions. It felt more like she was a pawn from a whole different game, actually. It felt like everyone knew things she didn’t, things about her family, her past, herself, way before she did.
The years eventually became a blur, forced psychologist visits and school counselor meetings becoming nothing but extra weight Historia tried to carry too, tried to pretend didn’t exist because grandpa passed and grandma got sick not long after. She graduated from one of the top schools in the world, starting as an A+ student and graduating with failing grades only because her father was one of the richest men in the world. And everybody knew that despite her name still being Krista Lenz on paper. Too bad she disappeared right after, entering a normal-ass university far away.
Historia’s feet paused on the wooden floor, her fists clenching against her sides, her chest heaving. She made her decision and carefully opened one panel of the large double doors, checking both ends of the hallway. It was empty. No one was outside her doors and no one was in the hallway.
She started running, running towards what she thought was the way to freedom, only to take the turn and fall head first onto a small body, quickly realizing it was the woman from before. Historia froze like a deer caught in headlights.
Annie’s eyes momentarily widened too, eyeing Historia once before checking on her refilled cup of coffee, which she had miraculously managed not to spill. She took a deep breath, her frustration obvious in every inch of her body. She grabbed her arm and despite Historia’s protests, dragged her back into the room, closing the doors, pointing a finger to the bed. “Sit there”. Her tone was so commanding and her eyes so harsh that Historia obeyed.
Annie moved in front of the door, raising her hand to her ear, speaking. “Mikasa, Ymir. Please come to the second floor, second bedroom. Now”, her voice was calm but she couldn’t hold back the curtness in the last word.
Historia just stayed there silent, her fists clenching the comforter of the bed. When Annie talked to her she flinched. “I’ll be right outside. Please don’t try to run again”
Historia knew the woman wanted to use much unfriendlier words that her professional position wouldn’t allow.
Annie closed the door behind her, running a palm over her face, sinking against the wooden surface. It didn’t take two minutes for the others to show up.
“What is it Annie”, Mikasa spoke first.
Annie took a look around, making sure nobody could be listening. She leaned forward whispering, her face taut. “Look, hear me out first and then say whatever you wanna, okay? Shit, ugh, look... She tried to run”
“What?!”. Mikasa’s tone was heated and Annie shushed her. Ymir was just listening, chewing a fresh gum. She wasn’t one of those brutes that used a piece for hours on end.
“I don’t wanna lose my fucking job, okay? I left for a moment to go take a fucking piss and get some coffee. I was coming back and she literally fell on me, looking like she had shit herself. It ain’t my fault they didn’t think of putting double guards. I mean, why the fuck would they, it’s a tiny ass university student that lives off daddy’s money, who the hell would think she would try to run away? My point is, don’t speak a word about this to anyone. It won’t only be my ass on the line. Do you get me?”
Mikasa was obviously pissed off, ready to go off on Annie but Ymir interfered, knowing both had their points. “Ah, I think we should go tell the supervisor we have concerns about her safety because she seems to be a bit agitated, angry, whatever. So, there will be two guards on the outside at all times and per his orders. You know he’ll pass in a couple of hours. If he sees two instead of one outside that door”, she pointed with her thumb behind her shoulder, “he’ll get suspicious. And I’m not planning on losing my job either. We need to solve this now because she may very well try something again and-”
Ymir had to admit that sometimes she could get a bit cocky. She was so pleased with her appeasing speech that she had gotten so absorbed in her own brilliance that she had not noticed her colleagues stone faces, not before she heard a familiar throat clearing right behind her. She cursed herself and turned around, a hopeless smile on her face.
“Ymir, I completely agree with you”. Their supervisor said, who despite only being there for a few seconds had probably heard the whole thing because he was a sneaky bastard. It was what made him that good at what he did. They all knew that. “But, orders are to have two guards outside the door and one inside at all times. Ymir you are to be stationed inside, Mikasa and Leonhart outside for the first shift. That is all”. He turned around and left, just like that, his bald head shimmering below the lights of the bright hallway.
They all sighed simultaneously. Ymir caught Mikasa’s glowing red face, ready to lunge at both their necks, so she moved fast. “Ladies, have a pleasant sunrise. I’m getting in position. Don’t think I want to delay it any longer”. So she slipped inside, pleased that their angry murmuring was on the other side of the door.
Ah, this room’s nice
She made her way to the armchair, flopping down. The cute face across the room stared at her and Ymir got up again, wanting to smack herself for her unprofessional behaviour. “I’m Ymir. I’m stationed to stay in your room at all times. Anything you need, let me know. Annie, you already met her, is on the other side of the door with Mikasa. She’s got black hair and a little scar on her cheek. Hard to miss. We’re here to keep you safe”. She waited for a response, but the blonde woman was just staring at her, her face a scowl and her eyes swollen red. It was obvious she had been crying. Ymir suddenly realized that this may be a job for her, but for that woman this was bordering on kidnapping.
She cleared her throat, getting closer. “Look, you’re here because if you stayed back home you’d be in some real danger. I know that for sure. I don’t know how you got here but I’m guessing they didn’t take you by the hand. But, if they used force I’m sure there were reasons”
Historia scowled at her some more for a couple of seconds, unsure if she could hold back her words. She couldn’t. “I-I have a life! I’m a student, I pay rent and I have a goldfish! I want my god damned fish! I want my clothes, my stuff!”. Historia was feeling so much rage she didn’t know what to do with herself.
Ymir’s voice was calm when she answered. “All of your belongings will be moved by your father’s personnel and right back to you, right here. That definitely includes your fish”
Historia frowned again. “Good. I wanna go to the bathroom. Can I go without you following me?”
“Well, yes… My orders weren’t that specific-”
Historia slammed the door behind her and opened the faucet, quickly kneeling in front of the toilet and emptying her stomach inside it, sobbing.
This wasn’t how things were supposed to turn out.