Two weeks passed quickly after Christa's first transformation in front of Ymir. They would spend most of their days in the Forest of Giant Trees, hung on the same routine. Drive to the outskirts in a red Ferrari, sunglasses on Ymir, Christa wearing Ymir's clothes, stopping just by the end of the road only to get out. Ymir closing her eyes in infinite curiosity about how Christa's body looked like, but also always respecting her. Christa, who started out rigid and tense when they first started, but gradually began to be more and more relaxed each day. Every time Ymir turned around and took Christa's clothes, she'd hear the crackling of the bones again and when she'd look back, Christa would be in an animal form again. The transformations would range from a deer to an owl, and even to a sheep. Then after Christa would complete rigorous running sessions and training inside the forest, Ymir would ask her to transform back so that she wouldn't wear herself out too much. Ymir would close her eyes and hand her clothes back again.
But after those two weeks, on a Saturday, Ymir sat on the leather couch of her penthouse. The skylight on the ceiling had been fixed a few days ago by some carpenters Ymir commissioned...and threatened, if they didn't finish the repairs as quick as they could. Body edged onto the side of the couch, Ymir spent the morning eyeing Christa up and down.
Christa had her legs to her chest, her bare toes wiggling on the edge of the couch. Her wide eyes were hooked onto an Animal Planet show about seals in the Arctic.
"Ymir, Ymir look!" The blonde's hand reached over and tapped Ymir's leg excitedly. "Look how cute they are!"
When Ymir didn't reply, Christa turned her head to see that Ymir was only looking at her in pure and utter amusement. Even the freckles in her face seemed to give smug smiles to Christa.
"Why are you looking at me like that?"
Scooting over close, Ymir took the remote and closed the TV. She winked. "You're the cute one. How about we go shopping?"
"Shopping?" Christa blushed.
"Yeah. I mean, all you've been wearing are my clothes. I'm sure you'd like something more fashionable? Something that actually fits you?"
"Aren't we going training today?"
"I think you deserve a good break, squirt."
Christa clapped her hands together and squealed. "You – you really mean it, Ymir!?"
"Sure." It took every fibre of Ymir's being not to smile like an absolute idiot.
"Oh b-but," stuttered Christa, "I couldn't let you buy me clothes, I mean, I have some back in my apartment in Trost –ˮ
"Don't worry about that. I'm a billionaire aren't I? Besides, I think it would be dangerous for you to return to Trost without your training done."
"Okay, only if you're sure."
"Come on, Christa, I'm always sure."
The two rocked up at the biggest shopping centre in uptown Rose, Wallside Mall, a huge complex which boasted eight floors and two connected buildings. Hordes of people crowded the pathways and though the corridors lined with shops were incredibly wide, it was impossible for Ymir and Christa to find themselves in a square of their own space. This was to be expected, though – it was a Saturday, which meant no work, and of course people would want to be out with family and friends. All varieties of human body odours congested the air, and the only reprieve they got from this hazy cloud was the occasional blast of huge cold wind from the air-conditioning vents that lined the ceilings.
Ymir stayed behind Christa's back, watching the smaller girl carefully. Throngs of shoulders and sides would bump into her lithe body, and from time to time, she'd almost end up getting knocked over. Christa was no short of strong, Ymir knew, but it was hard to keep your balance in a place where people shuffled like zombies and gave no damn about who they hit. So, after about twenty minutes of them just trying to get to where they wanted to go, Ymir cursed under her breath and wiped the sweat from her forehead. Despite all of the cooling systems, there was nothing like a mass of bodies when it came to generating heat.
Pushing her sleeves up, Ymir took Christa by her arms and moved in close. She used her own body to protect the girl, and to speed up their process of moving forward.
Christa gasped loudly and craned her neck to look at Ymir. "Ymir! You scared me again!"
"Poor little Christa was getting bullied by the crowd, so I decided to help!" cackled Ymir.
Christa focused on walking again. "I thought someone else was grabbing me!"
"I'd never let my Christa get grabbed by someone else other than me," Ymir teased.
Ymir felt Christa freeze for a second – out of embarrassment, or out of shock, she didn't know. "In any case, thank you."
"For what? Groping you?"
"Y-Ymir!"
"Just kidding."
"Thank you for keeping the crowd from crushing me-ˮ
Ymir was about to apologise cockily, until Christa's shrill squeal filled her ears for the second time today. "Ymir! Look! Look at all these shops! Those pretty dresses! And those shorts! Let's go inside! Let's gooooooooooooooooo!"
With that, and amongst Ymir's initial confusion, she suddenly saw her own hand being dragged away, her body being jerked away from the crowd's magnetic pull, her lungs opening up and leaving the stench of people behind. She found herself thrust into a sweet-smelling shop filled to the brim with all kinds of short shorts, tops, skirts, dresses, and jeans. Many women were walking around, pulling out shirts and putting them against their chests, checking the prices, disappearing and reappearing from the changing rooms and engaging in lively chatter with their friends.
Christa let go of Ymir's hand and began flicking through the clothes in one aisle excitedly, and then the next, and then the one after that, on and on. It was like watching a tornado - a mini tornado at that – ravage the place. It confounded her how Christa moved so quickly. Sure, it was no surprise that she was like that in her animal forms, but in real life...Ymir had never seen someone so driven when it came to clothes. Ymir stood there awkwardly, scratching her head from time to time and shooting a glance at all the other women in the shop. Surprisingly, to her, she found none attractive. All she could focus on were Christa's rapid movements. About thirty minutes later, Ymir lost sight of Christa. She looked everywhere, and realised that she had retreated into one of the changing rooms to try out all her new picks.
As soon as Ymir found herself by one curtain, it opened abruptly and a small part of her jumped. To her relief, it was Christa. She was clad in a cute sun dress which complimented her small legs quite well. It brightened her hair and made her look like a ball of sunshine.
"Weeeeeeeeeell," she spun around, "what do you think?"
For a moment, Ymir was entranced in a single loop of memory – Christa spinning, her dress twirling around her, her hair flowing, her eyes dancing – and when she blinked and released her daydream, she realised how hot her face grew.
"Ymir? Are you alright?"
"Wh-what? Yeah!?"
"I said," Christa smiled, "what do you think?"
"It's, holy wow, Christa – it's great!" Ymir's voice turned high-pitched, then she noticed how idiotic she sounded then coughed. "It's uh, not bad."
Giggling, Christa curtsied. "Wait here and I'll showcase all the things I want to get!"
Before Ymir could protest, and in all honesty she didn't want to, Christa went into the changing rooms again. Ymir sighed, a hint of a smile on her face, and sat down on one of the round seats that the store offered. She was going to be here for awhile; she might as well get comfortable.
Over the next hour and a half, Christa zoomed in and out of the changing room wearing things like high-waisted shorts, ripped shorts, sleeveless tops, skirts, and skinny jeans. All of the designs she picked had three themes: colourful, vibrant and bubbly. Ymir thought about how many partners thought themselves in torture every time their girlfriends made them wait this long, but when Ymir thought about her situation, she could admit that she actually enjoyed it. After Christa's last dress-up, the two went to the counter and paid for her choices.
Christa excitedly watched as the cashier scanned the items and bagged them one by one. The cashier - who already had a knowing smile when she spotted them come up – noticed Christa's anticipation.
"Your girlfriend's lucky she's got someone to buy her all of this," commented the cashier with a bright grin.
Ymir scoffed. "Yeah, all forty items of it."
"We're not-ˮ protested Christa.
"And for the record, I'm the lucky one," Ymir said as she handed over her credit card. "I don't have the cash on me. Here."
After paying for the clothes, Christa suggested that they go for some lunch. They went to a well-known steakhouse on the sixth floor of the mall and took a table situated by the walls. The mouth-watering aroma of tender meat wafted through the air, mixed with the alluring smell of herbs and spices and roasted potatoes. Vintage posters of old movies lined the warm wallpapered walls. Every now and then a bell rang.
Ymir placed the bags of clothing beside her and sat opposite Christa. They chose from the menu in silence, with little snippets of murmurs here and there from Christa. When the waiter came to take down their orders, Ymir smiled when Christa ordered a whole ton of food.
"So," Ymir began as she handed back their menus to the waiter, "did you enjoy yourself?"
"Yes, I did!" Christa chirped. "I can't thank you enough for it all, Ymir!"
"You better wear all of these. They all suit you."
"Thank you, I will!" Christa thought for a second, and then tapped her chin. "So, you know, I want to know a bit more about you."
"Me? I'm not very interesting."
"Two weeks of knowing each other. That's something, at least, but I don't even know your basic details."
"You know all that you need to know."
"You're rich, dependable, and trustworthy."
"Dependable and trustworthy? Wow, having you around has changed me."
"Why? What were you before you met me?"
"An asshole."
"You're still mean, you know."
"Yeah, but not as mean as I was."
"Come on, Ymiiiiiir," Christa whined. "Tell me about you."
"Look who's talking." Ymir sneered. "Miss Christa Renz, who lives in Trost, with her friends. I don't know anything beyond that."
"That's because you haven't asked!"
Ymir caved in, sighing in defeat. "I honestly don't know what to tell you." Except for the fact that I'm Hyrr, she thought. "I'm...Ymir...I don't really care for a last name, I've got no friends, no family obviously, but I've got tons of cash, so my life's pretty good."
The waiter came in and brought their food. A steak and chips plate, a club sandwich and red wine for Ymir; two steak and chips plates, a bowl of soup, a side of macaroni and cheese and a milkshake for Christa. After Ymir thanked the waiter, she got her reply.
"But, I'm your friend, aren't I, Ymir?" Christa asked, taking a sip of her soup.
A choked chuckle vibrated from Ymir's throat. "Let's not get carried away."
A month later, on a rainy Thursday when nobody expected a thunderstorm to pass by, Christa and Ymir couldn't do anything but stay in the penthouse all day. They heard the constant pattering of the heavy rain play on the rooftop and the occasional thunder that would boom somewhere in the distance. Outside the windows they could see dark clouds cry, their tears desperately trying to wash the pollution and grime off the city.
Lightning would come and go like the lights that go off from cameras, and when they did, they'd paint Christa's worried face in a ghastly tone. She was huddled in a thick blanket on the sofa, watching the news on the TV intently. Ymir sat across from her, browsing on her laptop, her index finger stretched across her jaw.
"Ymir?" Christa called.
"Mmm?"
"Look at what's happening." Taking the remote, Christa turned up the volume.
Immediately, when she heard the first words, Ymir found herself completely focused on the news segment.
"...Because of the "legendary" Hyrr's hiatus, people have been spending their time rejoicing in the rain. They say that the rain is washing away the embers of what used to be the standing of a tyrannic hero." Video footage of civilians literally out of their homes frolicking in the rain appeared. "The government are also curious as to where Hyrr has suddenly disappeared, and doubt that she has left town for good."
Christa turned it down again as the news changed to a new fruit holder being invented. "Did you hear that? Hyrr's gone! Or, rather, in hiding." Her face curved into a smile. "I'm confident I can confront her now. If she's so cowardly to have gone from view like this, then she must be growing weak."
A scowl as dark as the clouds outside filled Ymir's face. "She's in hiding, not dead." Her voice turned gritty. "It won't stop her from killing you. If you try to find her, she'll find you first. Who knows? She's probably heard about you. The girl who wants to take her down. If you try anything, she'll always have the upper hand. Don't throw your life away like that."
A look of worry appeared on Christa's face. "What's wrong, Ymir?"
"What...?"
"I mean, you sound so passionate about her. Have you met her? Did she...hurt you?"
"No, I haven't met her." Ymir gulped.
"Then why are you so-ˮ
"Because if she kills you, then you won't be in my debt anymore."
Christa nodded, and went back to watching in silence. For a moment, she thought that Ymir had truly cared for her. That the brunette truly wanted her to live, because she cared. Her heart was downcast, chest heavy.
Ymir studied Christa's sad expression for awhile. She could never know. It wasn't an option. If she knew, things wouldn't be so high-sailing anymore. It was selfish to keep her from the truth, but at least could admit to herself that she was thinking of herself. For a second she thought, maybe someday, Christa would have to know, but it wasn't today. She continued to browse on her laptop, but she couldn't even focus on that. Her mind was too preoccupied with what she would do if Christa ever found out.
She was sure of one thing – Christa would be out of her life forever.
