Scunner
I just hang there for a second staring wide-eyed at her, my mouth still fixed in an open grimace of what-the-fuck.
"Your brother the snake ate your brother?" I ask blankly.
Ymir looks at me like I just dropped her newborn. "Are you fucking-" She cuts herself off, releasing me; I nearly buckle to the ground, my knees so wobbly I'm afraid they won't support me. I lean back heavily against the tree as Ymir paces, growling things under her breath, occasionally shooting me hateful glances.
As I regain my breath, my eyes dart frantically all around for the beast. I risk a glance behind me; it's nowhere to be seen. The shadows have grown longer as the day goes on, and the wind has picked up, feeding my imagination a steady meal of oh-look-a-hulking-shape-in-the-bushes.
"Where'd it go?" I ask.
She whirls on me and I shrink back. "He," she spits, "is probably hiding somewhere after you scared him."
My jaw hangs open. "Whoa, okay, wait. I scared him? Did you not just see him try to eat me?"
"You startled us! You're not supposed to be here – of course he flipped out a bit!" She throws her hands up in the air in exasperation. "Pity he didn't fucking tear you apart."
"Yeah, pity," I repeat squeakily, still looking around for the naga. "W-Where the fuck is it?"
"Stop calling him an it!" Ymir roars, and she's up in my face again, her nose almost bumping mine. "You don't fucking call him that. Why the fuck are you here? Who sent you?"
I sidle around the tree a little bit, away from her, blinking in incomprehension. "Sent me? No one. I sent me."
"Don't fucking play," she snarls, following me with a vicious tilt of her head. "Who was it, huh? Shadis? Levi? Fucking Erwin? That bastard's been on my back for fucking years-"
"Wait, whoa whoa, stop," I say. "I-I wasn't sent by anyone, I swear. Look, I was just really fucking jealous that you get so much respect and shit because you're a great hunter, so I wanted to see you in action and, like, I don't know, learn something because I'm sick of being a baker-"
"Oh, shit," Ymir says suddenly. "I knew I knew you from somewhere. You're that kid that made the fucking chocolate abominations. That rude douchebag from Reiner's."
"Wh- Abominations? I slaved over those!"
"So you followed me," Ymir interrupts, "out of your own volition? Did anyone know this? Where you were going?"
"No, I-" I hear a rustle from somewhere behind me and whip my head around to look. Nothing. "I . . . well, I wasn't about to tell anyone I was stalking you, that'd be kind of embarrassing-"
"And no one knows where you are now?"
"No, for the third fucking time. I literally thought you were going hunting! Not going and- and playing tag with the fucking naga that ate your brother!"
"He didn't eat my brother, you idiot," Ymir drawls angrily. "I made that up! Marco is my brother. I told everyone that so no one would come up here and find him- which obviously did not fucking deter some people!"
My eyes flit down to her chest, to the scars that rent her midriff.
"Bear," she growls before I can even answer the question. "Not him. Marco is harmless."
Marco. It sounds like such a normal name. It feels wrong to give something as human as a name to that thing. "Yeah, he looked really fucking harmless just now. He's a fucking monster."
She punches me. I see (and somehow hear) a white flash, my head snapping back from the force of her fist. Ringing starts up in my ears immediately, and tears flood to my eyes as I clutch my pounding nose. "Fucking OW!" Blood starts flooding down in sheets from both nostrils, coating my upper lip and splattering on my shirt.
"Suck it up," Ymir says uncaringly, wiping her hand off on her pants. "You're the one who cocked all of this up." She moves away, beginning to pace again. "Don't fucking move. Now I have to figure out what to do with you."
I cannot think of an adequate response to this past the prickling, burning pain in my face. I spit messily, and blood rains down upon the leaved ground. I pinch my nose with dripping hands, red drops siding down my arm to pool in my sleeve. Fuck, I am never getting this out.
I don't interrupt Ymir. I'm not that stupid. I'm burning with questions, but she'll probably get annoyed and break something else. I'll wait until she initiates conversation again.
The naga's fanged face keeps reappearing behind my eyelids, and I spend the whole time Ymir paces around trying to figure out what to do with me spinning in a slow circle, jumping at every little noise. For some reason it's so much worse that the naga is my size. Big animals become unavoidable, unstoppable. They kill you with mighty bites that waste no time. Things the size of a human? They kill you slowly because they can't do it any faster. They're too small to swallow you whole, so they take dozens of bites out of you until you drain. And there's always that chance you could fight off something smaller, that chance that makes you struggle like a trapped rodent, the one that exhausts you and fills you with false hope.
Hell, I've never been attacked by anything before (except for Eren fucking Jaeger a decent amount of times). My imagination is tapping into a font of information that's beyond primal. I'd prefer a bear to this fucking naga.
"Okay," Ymir says, abruptly turning to me; I straighten up, my heart hammering. "I'm stuck between threatening you with dismemberment if you even breathe a word, or just making this easier on myself and slitting your throat right now."
"First option," I choke out, horrified. I can't forget the rage in her face when she realized someone saw her precious naga. I don't even doubt that she's considering silencing me for good. Fucking psychopath. What I wouldn't give to still be at Reiner's right now instead of alone in the woods with the naga and its overprotective sister.
"You would say that. Come on, asshole, let's go clean your fucking horsey face." She seizes my upper arm and drags me behind her; I stumble and try to regain my feet while being hauled sideways, as well as holding back a tirade about her calling me horsey ("Horseface" is the name Eren fucking Jaeger gave me when we were thirteen and broke apart for good). I keep my fingers clasped over my nose, looking over the back of my hand at the woods to see if the naga's following. It isn't.
Ymir seems to know exactly where she is in this forest, and after about a minute of me desperately trying not to trip Ymir she releases me by a creek. "Clean up your fucking face," is all she says before turning back to the woods.
I refrain from sticking out my tongue at her and squat by the running water. How the fuck am I supposed to do this? What am I supposed to do, stick my fucking face in?
Ymir answers my question by planting her boot on my hunched back and sending me sprawling forward. I barely catch myself from bashing my face on the creek bed, but a good amount of water splashes my head; I rear back up, sputtering and gagging. "Can you fucking not?" I exclaim.
"You're taking too long. Don't complain to me, horsey. You're the one who ruined our day."
I don't ask who she means by "our" and rub my hands in the cold water of questionable cleanliness, twitching my nose to try and dislodge some of the dried blood and muttering under my breath things she would probably kick me again for.
After a lot of rubbing and sticking my fingers up my nostrils to get the crustiness out (don't judge, I know you do it too) I stand, sniffling to attempt to be able to breathe again. "So, uh, you're going to not kill me, right? Look, I guess I'm sorry for following you and everything, but I didn't ask to see your fucking naga or to have it chase me."
"Nah, you didn't," Ymir concedes drawlingly, frowning at me. "So I guess that leaves the alternative. Follow me."
She starts off into the forest and I follow her, trying not to look like I'm sticking too close to her or anything (when I totally am; I don't want to turn around and see the naga with more than five feet between me and Ymir). "Are we going home? If we go home I'll bake you all the fucking chocolate shit you want-"
"We're not going back yet," Ymir cuts in, sounding irritated. "You're going to go up to my Marco and apologize."
I stop short. "Are you fucking serious? You're calling it again? Fuck no!"
She whirls on me again, and I let out a tiny squeak and shift away. "Yeah, and you're going to look him in the eye and tell him you're sorry for scaring him so bad he lashed out."
"That is the dumbest fucking logic I've ever heard," I protest, but she gives me a dangerous look, so I swallow and tell myself to tone it down. Internally I seethe; I don't want to go and reassure a predator like it's a fucking five-year-old. "Will it attack me again? I mean, isn't it supposed to be a monster? Like an animal?" I skitter away a few paces when Ymir's face twists into a snarl at the word "monster."
"Let's get something straight here," she growls, stopping. "Marco is a naga but that doesn't make him a monster. I made all that shit up because our village is populated by superstitious meatheads who attack anything unless it's never been seen. No one would think twice about coming up here and turning my brother into a pair of leather boots." The way she says its name, calls it her sibling, has a possessive and proud undercurrent and I try to wrap my head around that. "You heard him speak, I'm sure. He's not a fucking mindless animal."
"Is he the only naga?"
"The only one I've ever seen."
"So . . . if he's a naga, and he's your brother . . . are you a naga too?"
She looks at me like I grew a second head. "Are you fucking retarded? Do I look like a snake to you?"
"Well I don't know!" I say defensively. "Did he, like, hatch out of an egg or something, or-"
"How about this. You shut the fuck up and stop asking questions, all right?"
"All right, whatever," I grumble, scratching my nose absently. It's still sore as hell, but not broken, as far as I can tell.
I only realize she's taking me back to the glade with the fallen tree when we arrive. I pause when she strides right out into the open without a second of hesitation. I don't want to go onto those grounds, where the naga had lurked just now, even if it was being playful or whatever. I just want to go home and pretend this never happened. Not that I would know, but near-death experiences are fucking scary.
Ymir looks back and angrily gestures for me to follow, so I mutter under my breath and creep out, trying to pretend I don't see shapes in the tall grass. Ahead of me Ymir puts her hand to her mouth and lets loose that piercing whistle, and I curl my lip anxiously, glancing all around. I heard once that animals smell fear, so I try to reassure myself. Ymir got in between me and the naga once before; as long as I stick close to her, she can do it again.
We sit on the log and wait a few minutes in awkward silence, Ymir's leg bouncing impatiently, until she stands with a growl. "He's too scared. Marco!" she calls loudly to the trees. "Come out here, punk, I won't let the guy hurt you."
I find this pretty fucking rich, but don't say anything. Ymir will probably hurt me again.
"Come on, Marco. I promise you'll be fine. I know you're a little freaked out, but Jim here isn't going to run his mouth, I swear. He's just a dumbass who didn't mean to scare you. I could probably snap him I half if I wanted to."
"It's Jean."
"Please ask me if I give a shit." She sits back down. "If he doesn't show I'm going to make you eat my satchel."
"So once I say sorry or whatever, can we leave?" I ask impatiently. "It's getting dark. My parents are going to be pissed."
"I'm more pissed than your parents could ever hope to be. Calm the fuck down."
"I am calm," I insist, even though my hands are twisting together hard enough to make my skin white.
Ymir doesn't deign to respond. I sit there, my spine tingling, looking over my shoulder every two seconds out of paranoia. If that snake comes flying out of the woods and bites my face off, I'll use my dying breath to punch Ymir in the stomach.
Ymir's head jerks to the side, and for a second I'm afraid I just spoke out loud. But she's looking away from me, toward the skyward roots of the unsettled tree. A face is poking out shyly from behind those tangled limbs, and my heart jumps into my throat. Upon making eye contact with me the naga gives a little squeak and withdraws its head.
Ymir gets up immediately, calling to it. I stand too, knees wobbling; the fucking thing managed to sneak up to us like it was nothing.
Ymir's murmuring and gesturing at me, and I feel almost offended that she's trying to convince this supernatural monster that I'm the one who it needs to try and trust. It's like a tamer telling her pet lion to please not sample the fresh shanks of the human sitting there twiddling his fucking thumbs.
Then Ymir's walking back to me, looking purposeful and dangerous as hell. The naga slinks behind her in such a way that I can't really see it, and I skitter back a bit. "Uh, it better not-"
Ymir punches me in the arm hard enough to make me yelp. "Say hello."
She steps to the side, glaring at me like she's more of a predator than the naga itself. Oh, by the way, the naga is right in front of me. All thirty-plus feet of it.
Now that I'm close to it and not being chased by it, I can actually see what it looks like. Its human half looks like the torso of a teenage boy, its skin darkened from the sun, with freckles like Ymir's splashed across its face and shoulders. Its hair is black, shaggy, and unkempt. I can't really see the family resemblance between it and Ymir; Ymir's got a pretty sharp face with hawkish features, while this face is more squared and even. The naga would look normal if it weren't for its eyes. They're dark brown with pupils that look more like blocks than circles, and there is absolutely no white anywhere. The brown fades into blackish blue around the corners, making the whole thing look dark and unnatural.
It's not reared up enough that I can see much of its snake body up close, but I can see its dark back winding through the grass behind it. It's not actually black, but a really dark brown with lighter-colored stripes segmenting it every few feet. It's thick enough that I don't think I'd be able to wrap my arms around it at its widest. Not that I ever would. I'm not touching that thing in a million years.
The naga's human back is hunched, its hands wringing nervously in front of its stomach. It's shaking a little. It stares nervously at the ground, glancing at Ymir or up at me every few seconds. It opens its mouth, but nothing comes out except a hiss, and it swallows.
I'm leaning back as far as is humanly possible, staring with a mix of horrid fascination and disgust. Its body is shiny, and I wonder if it's slimy and wet to the touch. Every so often a section of it twitches and bends. Fucking unnatural.
"Hey, asshole," Ymir pipes up; I jump at the loudness of her voice. "Polite people would offer their hand or something."
I don't hide the revulsion I feel at this concept, but Ymir is my only way home. Slowly, jerking it back reflexively every few seconds, I hold out my hand in a tentative offering.
The naga stares up at it like it's going to get bitten. "Ymir," it whispers frantically. "What am I supposed to do?"
It's got a deep teenager voice and a weird, foreign accent that folds over some words and utters some syllables too quickly, like its tongue is fat and cumbersome.
Ymir leans forward and takes its hand, guiding it up into mine. My breath catches as it draws near, but the reptilian chill I expect is absent, instead replaced by your standard warm human hand. The naga's palms are rough and callused and covered in a faint layer of dirt. I try not to visualize those black claws I saw earlier. Maybe they were just my imagination.
Like I'm waiting for one or both of us to explode, I shake its hand very slowly, staring at its wide, distorted eyes the entire time. I let go as quick as I can, wiping the dirt and the feeling of having touched the creature off on my trousers.
Ymir clears her throat. I swallow, taking a deep breath and glowering at the canopy of the trees behind the naga. Oh, look, a squirrel. "I'm sorry I scared you," I enunciate slowly in literally the most insincere tone that has ever escaped my mouth.
I almost expect the naga to say the same thing back, but I guess not. It stares at me like I'm the naga. Well fuck you, then, snakebutt.
Ymir stands then, slinging her arm over the naga's shoulders and ruffling its hair roughly. "Was that so frigging hard?" she demands of me, glaring.
I see that stupid naga cowering under her arm like I'm going to eat it and I realize this is the most ridiculous situation I've ever had the misfortune of being in. Following someone into the woods does not warrant almost getting killed and then being stared at like you're the crazy one. I didn't walk out of the village expecting anything more complicated than some mild stalking. I don't want to have to go back and remember this shit happened.
And I'm pissed off, because Ymir expects me to play house with the naga that- . . . well, fuck, I guess she's pretending she didn't see it barreling after me through the woods. I had a near-death experience and I feel like I'm owed something, not glares and meaningless handshakes. The fucking thing didn't even know how to give a handshake, and she's calling it her sibling like I should believe her?
"Can I go now?" I ask.
If Ymir wants to pretend that thing's related to her to delude herself into feeling guiltless for keeping a secret pet, as well as telling nightmare stories to an entire village just for kicks, she and any credibility I held for her can fuck right off and do that.
The naga moves, and I flinch. It's shifting away from Ymir and gliding away; I keep staring at its shifting scales and thinking of the word "slippery," and its dumb brown scales look wet and slippery and my palm tingles as I wipe it on my clothes again to get the imaginary slime off. The naga slinks to the tree line, shooting Ymir a glance.
"Wait here," Ymir tells me, and as she leaves I reluctantly sit, crossing my arms, irritated at being delayed. I want to go home and lock myself up in me and Thomas's room and never have any excitement ever again. I actually miss Thomas, if you can believe that.
I can't hear them from here. I try to imagine what they're talking about. Hey, cute little naga, try not to eat anyone this week, okay? I snort, rubbing my hands; it's getting pretty dark, and the bugs are starting to sing.
Ymir comes back over and I stand. She says, "In case it wasn't fucking obvious, you completely just ruined my day."
"Wow, I'm so sorry," I say sarcastically. I glance over; the naga is gone. "So this whole time you knew this naga was here? And you're its friend?"
"Sister," she says forcefully, "and yes. Do you have a fucking problem?"
Trick question, trick question like whoa. "No," I mutter untruthfully, not wanting her to cave my face in.
"Good." She goes up to me really close, like toe-to-toe close, and puts her hand on the top of my head, forcing me to face her. "Because if you tell anyone – and I mean anyone – I will literally tear you apart. Got it? Not Reiner, not your mommy and daddy, not even yourself when you look in the goddamn mirror. As far as anyone knows, as far as you know, you saw me walking in the woods and you turned in the other fucking direction. This day is going to fucking wipe itself from your memory. Got it?"
She doesn't blink, doesn't stutter, doesn't look a millimeter from my eyes, and I swallow, knowing she is being absolutely honest. "Got it," I say quickly. I'd been debating between just forgetting this ever happened and telling the entire village, but this gentle argument (I'm lying) convinces me of the former.
Ymir smiles suddenly, crinkling up her eyes and wrinkling her nose, and it's so false and exaggerated that I shrink back. "Oh, good. Because I'll be around. And if you open your mouth, trust me. I'll know."
I swallow again, suddenly dry-mouthed. "I'm cool with that."
"This was a nice chat, Jim. Now start walking if you want to go home so badly." She gives my shoulder a shove.
Friendly reminder that I am shit and this is shit and it's rushed and short because I want to make it easier for me to finish it.
Marco has a Belgian accent.
