I do not own Shingeki no Kyojin
If anyone could piss off Ymir in this town faster than she can smell bullshit, or shit, it had to be Reiner.
He was a heavily built man, bulky, who always saunters around with a taller fellow and an unbelievable short blond, Bertolt and Annie respectively. They were a trio who went back beyond years that Ymir could count on her hands and toes. She always found them as a disturbance, whether they were doing so or not, just being in the same radius set her off.
Both dressed raggedly, just as her, with little care for clothes. Most often they would be found wearing these flannels, though Annie had a tendency to take the hem and lift it higher to reveal her toned belly as it was tied up right under her non-existent breasts. Roughed up jeans and biker boots, they discarded their old jackets were discarded only a few years ago as Ymir took down most of their organization single-handed out of whim- well, she was drunk.
With a group being in the same bar as her, while she and them were drunk, she lost her temper over a poker game.
Fireworks went off and twelve graves were dug for the gang.
Grudges were held long after, every once in a while Ymir received a wake up call.
Today was one of those days.
And she hated them.
She threw herself out of bed, boots still on her, and reached for a pump-action shotgun that hung off a stand nailed to the wall.
Jean was already up and arms, Magnum in hand, barking at her,"They're here!"
Ymir rolled her eyes as she followed him down the hallway. As she rounded a corner, a white blur came out of the corner of her eye and collided with her, throwing her against a beer tower Jean built out of boredom. Ymir picked herself up from the cans and glared up to see Hanji, still in her pajamas and only wearing robes, hands waving frantically- she was in hysterics.
"Jesus, Jesus, Jesus!" Hanji cried.
More alarming to Ymir was the fact that her white robed sleeves were covered in blood, red fresh blood.
"Hanji, what the fuck!?" Ymir yelled at her, angered and confused- she shouldn't have been surprised to see Hanji donning blood but for once, there was a sinking feeling. Normally the woman would be smiling maniacally but now she was frantic. "The fuck is that!?"
"I-Ilse!" Hanji stuttered, hopping about in her loafers, she pointed to Ilse's door to where there were bullet holes riddling the planks.
Ymir didn't need any other explanation as she ducked to avoid a bullet that whizzed through a window, shattering it. She shoved Hanji to the wall and forced her to stay down as a car's engine from outside roared; the bastards were driving circles around the house.
Ymir crawled over to the door to enter Ilse's room. Usually the room was an organized mess with notebooks and papers stacked up as high as the ceiling- it was disheveled now. Blood bleed onto the loose pages that had fallen and amongst it all was Ilse face flat on the floor, blood pouring from her head and squirting out onto the gray stained carpet.
Ymir froze.
Goddamn.
She stared at her. Time to dig another grave.
"Fuck me," Ymir murmured as she looked out the window.
The duo had decided to drive off, done with their daily assault. Ymir shook her head, she didn't even have a chance to warm up her shottie.
Elsewhere, Hanji was getting to her feet to check the damage that they had wrought. She held the most shock as Ymir knelt by Ilse to see the bullet that riddled her temple- oh, she was definitely dead. Ymir began to pick her up.
"Go get a shovel, help me bury her," Ymir instructed as silence fell throughout the house.
Jean was still standing out on the back patio, aiming feverishly, barrel waving left and right. When the car had driven off, he relaxed and turned to see the mess of recluse. "Oh, well fuck me. She dead?"
Ymir nodded once as Hanji spoke up,"Bury her? No grave?! No mark!?"
"She don't have family but me, not really close to her. Ain't on the records either, would it really matter?"
Hanji grabbed at Ymir's sleeve, then her arm. "It matters to me!"
"Tell that to the other twenty people you killed for science," Ymir snorted, trying so hard not to laugh at sympathy that was so shallow, it made the desert look soaked with water.
Hanji fumed. "Who fed her and cared for her? Me! Who spoke to her when she was alone? Me!"
"Who injected her with morphine whenever she asked for it?" Ymir shot at her.
"That would be Jean, but that's not the point!" Hanji exclaimed, hand waving. "Isn't she family to you?"
"By blood, yeah-"
"Then bury her! I'll pay for it!"
Damn, she was persistent. Ymir glanced down at Ilse, the woman was dead in her arms, tongue sticking out with blood staining her freckles and caking her short hair. She then stared at Hanji's urgent face, then reluctantly agreed. "Fine, you arrange it. Take her."
Ilse was given to Hanji, besides, if she didn't agree, she would never have the ability to drink water from the tap without being suspicious of obtaining some sort of gastric infection. She shuddered at the thought as Jean had one gun slung over his shoulder, a beer bottle at hand- he tossed it over to her.
Just another day.
-...-
"We be gathered here today to mourn the loss of Ilse Langnar...a, um, uh," the Father began to stumble through it- there wasn't much to say about her.
The only ones in attendance in the desert landscape were Ymir, Hanji, and Jean, just those three. Then Sasha's father and Sasha herself were there, it was a small funeral as there were few that knew of Ilse's existence. That was why Ymir had spent the entire morning staring at a blond girl that had taken to attending the ceremony- it piqued her curiosity beyond anything.
The girl was small, just about Ymir's chest height- she was rather cute even as she wore black, she was looking at the ground, quiet, as they had just buried Ilse.
Soon after the mourning had finished, though Hanji spent most of the time bawling with Jean standing by her side, patting her shoulder, Ymir had taken to approach Sasha, eyes still fixated on the blond as she wandered beyond the graves, hand brushing against the crosses of the unmarked Chinese graves.
"Who that?" Ymir asked as she adjusted her hat. She had taken to wearing black slacks, black trench coat, and even a black gambler hat (one of those Western kinds) to complete her look. She reached into her coat pocket to pull out two cigarettes, one for her and Sasha. She lit them both and they walked opposite of where the girl had strode off to.
Sasha looked over at her, shovel in hand. "Oh, her? That'un there is Miss Reiss, daughter of Lod Reiss- man leaves'er here e'ry Sunday to pray with me an' Pa. Very good kid, good Christian- hell, pro'lly the only good Christian fer miles."
Ymir kept her eyes trained on her. "Call her over."
"Huh- Ymir, ya gotta be kiddin' me-"
"I just want to thank her for her condolences. She attended a stranger's funeral."
"She attends any funeral!"
Ymir scoffed and tossed the cigarette to the ground, snuffing it out with her boot. "Don't care, I feel like being nice today."
Sasha shook her head, then let out a sharp whistle as they took to standing by the church doors. The girl, this 'Miss Reiss', turned around from the graves and glanced over at them. Sasha waved her hand, gesturing her to come over- without question, she made her way. Ymir bit her bottom lip in anticipation, finding her form rather pleasing to look at.
Ymir took off her hat and held it by her chest.
"Miss Reiss, this is Ymir, she's Miss Langar's cousin," Sasha started.
Ymir offered her hand to her, smiling, in turn, Miss Reiss shook it. "Pleasure to meet you, ma'am."
Miss Reiss finally looked up at her to reveal the most beautiful pair of eyes that were bluer than the sky, Ymir nearly dropped her hat when the girl spoke,"Pleasure it is. I'm sorry about your loss, it must have been hard. If I may be too bold, what had...happened to her?"
"It was an accident, hunting accident," Ymir clarified. "Hunting quail, see? Ilse was always a klutz, took a spill off the rocks and set her gun on her head."
Miss Reiss's fair face contorted with shock and genuine sympathy, elsewhere, Sasha was shaking her head disapprovingly. "Oh, oh my..."
"Pretty horrid, my poor aching heart," Ymir emphasized as she brought her hat to her chest. "Girl never got to see twenty-one."
"Must be dangerous being a hunter," Miss Reiss said, placing a hand on her shoulder.
As Ymir nodded, a car pulled up. It was one of those nice, clean old fashion ones, a Ford Coupe, 1940s. It was black, sleek, polished to a point of where Ymir could see her reflection. At the driver's seat was an old man, his gaunt face was daunting but it didn't deter the fact that he was her father as the girl offered more sympathy.
"I'm sorry, Ymir, I have to go. Perhaps we can meet again," Miss Reiss said, apologizing as best she could.
Ymir mouthed,"Thank you," as the girl waved to both of them, she then made her way to the car to sit by her father.
As they drove away, leaving them in the dust, Ymir slapped Sasha on the shoulder with her hat. "Why ain't you telling me that flower grew here!?"
"`cuz yer Ymir!" Sasha said, glaring at her. "Miss Reiss is a nice girl, very nice, last thing I need is for ya'ta come'long and fuck her up!"
"Oh? Since when did the binge eating, booze loving, hypocritical pastor's daughter ever care about innocence?" Ymir snapped at her. "What's so special about her that you don't want me near her?"
"Her father's the reason why me'n Pa ain't livin' down at the bar," Sasha explained as she lead her into the chapel.
They took to sitting at one of the pews by the alter, Ymir reclined as she started smoking, to which Sasha easily disposed of it by ripping it from her mouth and shutting it between the pages of a Bible.
"No smokin' in the chapel, yu'll burn the rafters down!"
Ymir shrugged.
"Anyway, s'long as we keep this church open, her father funds us. Man's a big supporter of Christianity- girl moved in 'bout a near six months ago. Naturally, no'uns attending service so men' Pa keep the money for ourselves."
"No'uns attendin' cuz ya'll ain't got any rafters left'ta burn down," Ymir mocked her as she pointed up at the ceiling...well, what was there. About a decade ago, during the earthquake that killed Berwick, the structure of the old rafters collapsed, caving in the chapel partway. As a result, services were often held outside- no one had done a thing to repair it, no one attended since then.
It was surprising that Sasha's father was able to find a sponsor for this dump.
The man must have been blind to not notice the roof.
Sasha shook her head.
"Caught you there, idiot, I swear, you're worse than trash."
"It's called bein' desperate."
"How're we friends?"
"I dunno. I really dunno."
"Well, if you need a home and you...end up losing your ranch and stuff, I got an opening in mine," Ymir offered as she stood up.
"Cold much?"
"Nah, the temperature is perfect in Ilse's, hit's a good 70."
Sasha sighed and rubbed the back of her neck. "So...now ya know Miss Reiss exists, ya gonna fuck this up fer me'n Pa?"
"Damn right I might. You said she comes here every Sunday?"
"E'ry Sunday, that's right."
"Call me a Christian then."
