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Historia couldn’t help but fiddle with the hem of her skirt. Her sort of date, Nanaba, eyed her curiously before placing a hand over Historia’s, stilling them.
“You’re nervous,” she said. “Relax.”
Historia huffed, but both of them knew that it was a sound of denial. “I’m perfectly fine.”
Nanaba chuckled and removed her hand to turn the car’s flicker on. They made a left turn at the next traffic light, and then Historia’s heart leapt into her throat when the building of her old high school broke the horizon. It was a generic school, but the sight of its bleached walls and brick pillars brought a flurry of memories. Most of them Historia cherished, but some she tried her best to forget.
“What’s making you so nervous?” Nanaba asked, with her stupidly charming smile. Historia rolled her eyes at the dumb look, but she couldn’t help how her chest warmed. Nanaba cared far more than she should have.
“Just, reasons. You didn’t have to attend this thing with me, you know.”
“I know,” Nanaba smiled. “But you were considering not going, and I’m also morbidly curious.”
“Of?”
“The people you went to school with, and what they’ll think of you now.”
At that Historia had to smile, even though she tried her best to hide it. Nanaba had reason to be so curious, after all. In high school, Historia had been fairly popular, though she had been too easy to walk on and manipulate. Plenty of the other popular, more sinister girls had used that to bully her. There were many instances when Historia looked back and wanted to punch her young self in the face. Fight back, damnit! she wanted to yell, to shake her by the shoulders and tell her that being herself was okay, that she would be accepted. But that was in the past now. She was a completely different person.
“Ten years definitely changes the game,” Historia stated. “I wonder how some of my classmates have aged.”
Nanaba only grinned in agreement. Their friendship had withstood a lot of hardship, from a failed first relationship, to awkwardly rebounding on each other, to finally reaching a point where they cared, simply and ultimately, as proper friends should. Most of Historia’s other friends assumed they were an item, and maybe in another life they would have been. Nanaba certainly had the looks that Historia found quite pleasing, but there was just something hollow about the romance between them. Nanaba had a steady girlfriend anyway, a lovely girl she had met in a grocery store. Historia stood no chance now, when she considered how Nanaba stared at this girl like she was the stars and the moon. It was cute, if not a little nauseating.
Historia forced her thoughts back on track. They parked inside the school grounds, amongst the many other cars present. Historia spotted a few really beat up vehicles, a few insanely fancy ones—one being a limousine for god’s sake—and a few motorcycles. Her mind went crazy imagining who from her class belonged to what car. Nanaba had to tap her on the thigh to bring her back so that they could leave the car, and eventually enter the building.
“Ready?” Outside the car, Nanaba held her arm out for Historia to take. “It’s time for the show.”
Historia rolled her eyes again, but accepted the arm and stepped out of the car. “I’m going to kick your ass, I swear,” she warned through a fake, sweet smile.
Nanaba’s deep laugh rattled right through Historia’s small frame, but it was a pleasant feeling. “Sure thing, His’. Are we heading in or what?”
Historia’s blue eyes fell on the building’s entrance, where a banner hung, happily exclaiming, ‘Welcome class of 104th!’ She scoffed, sucked in a deep breath and then nodded. “Let’s do this, partner.”
Nanaba dipped her head, pressed her cheek to Historia’s temple, and then she straightened and they were off.
The hallway was quiet, with one or two staff members walking by. There was a definite sound of music and voices emanating from their left, which could only be from the school’s only hall slash gym. All the arrows pointed that way, as well. When they reached the door, there was a table set up beside it with name tags. An older woman sat at the table, grinning broadly like she was possibly intoxicated, and it was only when her bright eyes landed on Historia that she recognized her with a start.
“Miss Hanji?”
The woman squinted at Historia, utterly silent for a minute. And then she released a long, strange sound of what appeared to be amusement. “Krista! I can’t believe it, look at you.”
“It’s Historia, actually,” she corrected. She couldn’t help but smile genuinely. Hanji had been one of her favourite teachers, though she was definitely the most eccentric one.
Hanji’s eyes widened slightly. “Historia, huh? Alright then. Luckily for you, Mr Smith was strict about the name tags. Here you go.” She handed it over.
Historia took the tag with a smile. It was surprisingly nice, with a slot for their name, surrounded by wings. At the top of the badge stood ‘Wings of Freedom Private Academy’ in bold, elegant text. In the past Historia had considered the name to be odd, but now she had never felt more pride, which was odd. She was also relieved to see ‘Historia Krista Reiss’ in bold text.
“Just head in there and meet your peers!” Hanji said, pointing at the closed hall doors and clapping her hands.
Historia clipped the name badge on, and then she allowed Nanaba to pull her to the door—her feet refused to move on their own. When they stepped through the doors, the noise from earlier intensified. Atop the stage sat a few speakers, though the music wasn’t too loud. The din of conversation set a blanket over the hall, drawing Historia in. She hadn’t really felt part of anything during school, but now, standing there staring at the people she hadn’t seen in ten years, she felt connected. Here they were, all sharing the same school, all returning for a reunion.
“See?” Nanaba whispered at her side. “Not so scary.”
Historia opened her mouth to shoot back some witty response, but it was then that she saw her. She hadn’t been looking, hadn’t expected to see her here—though the entire reason of her nervousness was the possibility that she would attend—but their eyes met across the room, like two magnets drawn automatically. Those brown eyes speared right through her, prodded her inside out like they always had, and Historia was thrown back, almost physically. She released a tiny gasp and clutched at Nanaba like a lifeline, but the memory had already breathed through her, and her mind stood no chance to stop it.
“What do you want to do after this dump, Krista?”
Krista considered it, frowning down at her school shoes. “My parents want me to get married. I don’t know what I want.”
There was a scoff, and then warm lips pressed to Krista’s and she gasped. “Let’s get married after this then, Historia.” Krista sucked in a breath. How had she known? “Or should I just call you Krista, like you want everyone else to?”
“That’s… that’s none of your business!”
Krista was rattled by her uncaring laugh. There was something dark in her eyes, alluring and frightening. “It will be,” she promised. “One day it will be.”
They kissed again, and Krista forgot to wonder why it felt so good, why she wanted to clutch at those strong shoulders, run her hands through messy brown hair and just drown and suffocate.
“Historia?” Nanaba bumped her slightly. She was frowning. “Where did your mind go just now?”
Historia blinked, surprised to feel slight tears at her lids. Her throat was dry and tight, and her chest was pulling, aching and burning. She shook her head, licked her lips. “Nowhere, sorry,” she lied. When she looked again, those brown eyes were gone. “Let’s get a drink, and then socialize?”
“Sure, if that’s what you want.”
They headed over to the snack table and snagged a drink each—just fruit juice, like the school had always provided. It made Historia smile. She was in the process of remembering something funny about this specific fruit juice when she felt the hairs at the back of her neck stand up, and then,
“Oh my god, Krista!”
She turned, eyes widening. Before her stood a man with neatly combed brown hair and bright green eyes. His smile was as mischievous as Historia remembered, and that made her smile in return. “Eren,” she greeted. “You look… all grown up.”
“Me?” Eren yelled, far too loud for it to be appropriate. “I barely recognized you! Guys!” He turned and gestured towards a group of people, and they all turned to look Historia’s way. “Look who showed up!”
Historia immediately recognized Mikasa, and she was struck dumb by her beauty. The years had seemed to be extremely kind to her, since she now looked like a masterpiece—she always had in school, but now it was… mature. Historia’s mind went to dark places when the group moved over and Mikasa gave her a beautiful smile. Next to Mikasa was a blonde man, and Historia remembered him to be Armin. Those two with Eren had always been together during school, Eren causing trouble, Armin begging him not to and Mikasa finally putting an end to it.
“Krista!” Armin exclaimed, laughing. “You look stunning!”
Mikasa rolled her eyes at him. “Down Armin, she’s out of your league.” She grinned to show that she was fooling around, and then she surprised them all by striding forward and giving Historia a hug. “It’s really nice to see you again.”
Historia enjoyed every inch of Mikasa’s warm body against her own. Nanaba seemed displeased, and when she inserted herself at Historia’s side, Mikasa pulled away.
“Sorry,” Mikasa said unapologetically. “Jealous girlfriend?”
Historia outright laughed. “More like overprotective idiot friend.” She bumped Nanaba with her hip. “I am not yours, babe. I can hug my hot classmates if I want.”
Mikasa seemed too pleased by the comment, and Eren seemed ready to implode. Besides them, Historia also noticed a few others. Jean, Annie and Marco all stood around awkwardly, waiting for their turn to be ‘amazed’. They were staring at her intently, though, especially Jean.
They eventually gave their greetings, and then the conversations began.
“So what are you doing now?” Eren asked. The drink in his hand sloshed around and splashed onto his tie, but it was Armin that fussed over him now.
“Geez, Eren, control yourself,” Armin chastised.
Eren grumbled. “Never.”
Historia couldn’t help but laugh. These people hadn’t changed much. Sure, the maturity was clear on their faces, now less youthful and more hardened by the harshness of life. But they never lost their personalities. Eren was as passionate as always. “Actually, I’ve been doing really well for myself,” she spoke up. Mikasa had been just about to smack Eren, or something.
“Do you work?” Armin asked curiously.
“I do,” Historia smiled. It was a little smile of secrets and pleasures. She much enjoyed how it felt on her face. Truthfully, she had been looking forward to this particular moment, when she would announce her true self, as she had promised to do so long again.
“Well, what do you do?” Jean interrupted. He was giving her an odd look again, like he couldn’t quite piece her together. Historia was struck by an odd sensation that she had seen him somewhere before this.
Beside her, Nanaba began to chuckle. “I’m going to mingle,” she announced, poking Historia’s side. “Enjoy gloating.” She sauntered off, smiling like the dope she was. Historia glared at her back, then turned back to the others, who were all watching her with curious intent.
“Actually, I’m the founder and CEO of Reiss.co.”
Everyone went quiet, then went pale. Eren’s eyes widened to the point that they nearly popped out of his skull. Historia felt the need to ask him if he was alright.
Jean was the first one to break the silence. He laughed. “I knew it!” he exclaimed. “I swore I saw you before!”
Historia squinted at him. “Jean Kirstein,” she said thoughtfully. “You work for me, don’t you?”
Everyone’s eyes turned to Jean, astonished.
“Um, yeah…”
She eyed him for a while, and then it clicked. “A year ago! That’s when I saw you. You’re one of our IT guys.”
Jean went a little red in the face. “I am.”
Historia suddenly felt awkward. “Well, um, good work.”
“We never knew you are a Reiss,” Armin piped up.
“My middle name is Krista. My actual name is Historia.”
Mikasa hummed thoughtfully. “So that’s why Ymir used to call you Historia.”
Everyone grumbled in agreement, suddenly realizing why Historia had always been so reserved about her home life. Once Historia had been forced to ride the family limousine to school, though she had come up with a clever lie for that. Now it seemed to all make sense for them.
However, the mention of Ymir had Historia’s chest aching again. “Um, have you guys seen her?” She didn’t need to ask if Ymir was attending.
“She got here a little while before you,” Eren announced, looking around them. “Can’t see her now, though.”
Historia released a small breath. “It was nice to see you all again, but I think I should walk around, speak to others. I’ll chat again later.” She enjoyed the looks of disappointment, but ignored them to walk away. She didn’t really want to speak to anyone else. In fact, she pointedly avoided anyone that looked like they were about to greet her, and then burst out into the hallway. The air was cooler there.
“Leaving already?” Hanji asked quietly. She was still sitting there, still waiting for the few people that hadn’t arrived yet—if they would. Now she was relaxed, a book nestled between her fingers. “Ymir went to the roof, by the way,” she added as an afterthought. Like in the past, Hanji seemed to know exactly what Historia was thinking and feeling.
“I wasn’t—” Historia began, but then paused. “Thanks,” she decided. What was the point in denying it anymore?
Walking down the hallway to the staircase at the back of the building woke a number of memories in Historia, many pleasant. Whenever Ymir bunked class, or school altogether, she would retreat to the roof and spend her time there. That’s where Historia had always known to find her. Now probably wouldn’t be any different, or perhaps this was intentional. Maybe Ymir was waiting for her.
Historia paused halfway up the stairs. Don’t be so conceited as to think she waited ten years for you. The voice sounded angry, bitter. How Historia always imagined Ymir would sound, when they finally met again after all these years. Why would she?
The last few steps were slow. Historia doubted herself, doubted that Ymir was really there. Then she allowed her fear and denial to spread concrete between her toes. Eventually, an invisible hand of courage pushed at her lower back, and she pushed the roof door open. It hadn’t been locked, probably so that those attending could come up here to smoke.
Historia paused by the open doorway. There Ymir stood, leaning backwards against the railing, back arched so that she could stare unobstructed at the sky, and in addition, a cigarette between her lips. The smoke plumed upwards, twirling and twisting before it dissipated.
“Ymir,” Historia uttered. She hadn’t said the name in ten years.
Ymir startled and lost her grip on the cigarette, causing it to first fall on her face, then slide off her chest to the ground. She straightened quickly, cursing and rubbing the ash from her face. “Fuck me,” she growled, glaring down at the smoke. Then she glanced up, paused, and started to glare at Historia too. “You scared me, midget.”
Historia stared. Had she just snuck up on Ymir? In school, Ymir had always done the sneaking, had always relished in being so quiet even though she was so tall, so noticeable. On more than one occasion she had done that to simply give Historia a fright. Now Ymir was the one with a pattering heart, and she seemed embarrassed enough about it. The splattering of freckles on her face was pink. Historia instantly fell in love again.
“Did I seriously just scare you?” she asked.
Ymir snorted. “Oh no, I clearly threw this smoke on my face for fun. What do you think?” Ymir stepped on her cigarette to kill it, and then she turned around and looked out at the horizon. Her back looked tense, and it made Historia want to run her hands over her shoulders, ease the stress there. It was obvious why Ymir was upset, though, and that kept Historia rooted to her spot at the door.
“Even after all these years, you still escape to the roof.”
Ymir shrugged. “The sky is beautiful.”
“You always used to say that.”
“Not everything changes in ten years.” Ymir glanced over her shoulder, stabbed Historia with her gaze. “Are you going to stand there all afternoon or join me? I haven’t seen your pretty face in forever.”
Historia’s heart pulsed hard, smashing against her ribs. She sucked on her lower lip and took the invitation. She joined Ymir by the railing—and Ymir was right, the sky really was beautiful, especially now that the sunset splashed brilliant orange and pink against the horizon.
“Wow,” she breathed. Ymir was so close that she could smell her body spray. It smelt good, but there was still that smell that was Ymir, the one that Historia had loved whenever she stole Ymir’s jerseys and jackets. It made her feel safe and secure, and now was no different, even after all the years that had passed.
“I didn’t think you’d show,” Ymir drawled. “I’m impressed.”
Historia smiled. “Liar. You knew I’d come. Just like you knew I’d follow you to the roof.”
At that Ymir chuckled. “I am a fantastic liar, but you’ve always managed to catch me out.” She sighed and slumped forward, and then she slowly turned her head.
Historia noticed a few things. Firstly, Ymir somehow had more freckles. She also seemed far too old for her young face, which had only lost some weight and sharpened. Ymir’s eyes were the same swirling, dark brown that drew Histroria so hotly. It was wonderful to gaze upon her face again, to see those eyes, the full lips and the snarky smile they often flashed. Historia wanted to kiss her.
“You look beautiful,” Ymir confessed quietly. Her eyes softened. “Really beautiful.”
Like always, Ymir’s gaze didn’t undress her and present her with indecency, it was masked with adoration and pride. So much pride now, unlike in the past. She had always disappointed Ymir, but now she had proved herself.
“I did what you suggested,” Historia shrugged. “I became myself.”
“And that self really is beautiful.” Ymir straightened again to cup Historia’s cheek in her palm. Ymir’s hand was warm, and it was also shaking.
“You think so?”
Their gazes locked, as if ten years didn’t stand between them, stretching like a chasm filled with days and nights neither knew of the other. Historia sucked in a shuddering breath.
“I do,” Ymir breathed. “I missed you.”
“Did you really wait for me?”
Ymir laughed, yet her hand stayed where it was. She moved closer, so close that their bodies were almost touching. “I didn’t wait, I stopped looking. I just let life flow around me.”
“No other lovers?”
“A few,” Ymir shrugged. “But that’s the natural way of things, isn’t it? I couldn’t stomach them, not for long.”
“I had a few,” Historia added. “Only one serious one that almost compared to you.” She grinned cheekily at the way Ymir glared now, very displeased by her words. “But, she couldn’t. No one could. I thought you would forget about me.”
“Who, you? Little miss big shot CEO? Never. I still need a sugar mommy.”
Historia laughed loudly. She couldn’t help it, bantering like this with Ymir felt so natural, so right. Ten years had spread between them, and yet here they were, so at ease. There was a deep sense of familiarity that Historia had missed deep in her bones.
“Do you still love me?” she asked, so softly it was almost a silent whisper. Ymir dipped down, almost like she was leaning closer to hear better, but then her lips found Historia’s and everything else melted away.
“Each and every day for the past ten years,” Ymir breathed against her lips.
Historia wrapped her arms around Ymir’s neck and tugged her down until they were chest-to-chest. It was warm and perfect. “I think I just fell in love with you again,” she confessed with a blush.
Ymir chuckled. “Oh really? How could you not. I’m amazing.”
“And still as dumb as ever.”
“Ouch, that hurts.”
“Your skin is too thick for such a comment to hurt you, Ymir.”
“Ah, you’ve learnt the art of back talk. You really did take my advice to grow the hell up.”
Historia kissed Ymir underneath the jaw, and then softly on the lips. “Shut up. Let’s go back down to the others, and then after this, let’s share a coffee at my place?”
Ymir’s eyebrows lifted. “Wow, that’s forward.”
“Should I rather have said let’s get naked, too?”
“Coffee it is, then.”
Historia didn’t question how easily they slipped back into their roles together. It felt natural, and the one thing Historia had always wanted, was to reunite with Ymir. Now she had. Ymir was more than willing. But she also understood that they were altered, changed, and they needed to come to accept their new selves, how new they would be together now.
She was ready to learn. She had built the last ten years for this simple moment, to be good enough, and worthy of, the one person she would only ever love. Ymir.