I do not own Shingeki no Kyojin
"Can ya quit that? Service is in half'n hour," Sasha scolded Ymir as she swatted the cigarette out of her hand.
Ymir left her hand overhanging from its spot. "Alright, Sasha, can't you tell time?"
Once again, the following week, they were sitting amongst the graves, waiting for service to start. Sasha's father was running late, as was the woman, Ymir waited for. She looked down at her watch, just a quarter until eight, then the pastor should arrive; another five minutes and his flock would return.
"I can tell decency," the brunette shot at her, glaring.
Ymir shrugged and stepped over to a stone cross to lean against it, arms crossed. Damn, she really wanted that cigarette, she didn't have time to light one that morning. She tapped her foot against a rock before punting it away at a decorative wagon that was displayed at the front of the chapel. Sasha paced back and forth, hands wrapping over one another.
"What're you doing that for? You're making me nervous," Ymir stated over her shoulder. "Walking around like that."
"I'm walkin' `cuz I'm thinkin' what c'rruption ya can give t'Miss Reiss," Sasha pressed on, she was persistent throughout the week about Ymir even uttering the name. She even attempted to bribe her with drinks to keep her from attending- all of those, Ymir declined and arrived at the chapel's doors. "Ya don't even know the girl, why ya gotta have interest now?"
Ymir snorted. "What's there to be interesting in this place?"
"I'm askin' why ain'tcha leavin' elsewhere?"
"No reason."
Well, there was a reason. That reason was why she couldn't go to school, couldn't land a job, couldn't pass a profiling to save her life. She simply let it roll off her shoulders, she had property, she had an income from those two, no longer three, idiots at home, there really wasn't a motivation to get out of there.
She was fine where she was.
"Here she comes," Sasha announced when an engine came rambling through in the distance.
Ymir sat up from where she had seated herself, atop an unmarked grave. Pastor Braus emerged from the chapel doors, his usual attire clothed him perfectly, though his sunken eyes and stench of breath of whiskey prevented him from being any close to God. Ymir quickly ruffled her hair and tucked it neatly under her hat, may as well look clean. She rolled her eyes at the sound of his belch.
"`mir, hadn't seen ya here since ya were yey high," Braus said as gestured to his waist.
"I was at the funeral last Sunday," Ymir sighed.
Braus gave her a dumb look. "Thought I's'un buryin' ya."
"Get your eyes checked, old man."
Sasha patted him on the back as the expensive car came to pull up at the door. "Don't worry, Pa, yer still a good man."
Miss Reiss stepped out of the car with the assistance of her father, he had aided her to her feet and then promptly returned to his seat. As quick as he came, he was gone, leaving his daughter in the dust.
Unlike last week, the girl had taken to wearing a periwinkle Sunday dress. It fitted her form well, her small frame and lithe body, she looked too pure to be in this town. Ymir walked over to her, bowing. As she lowered her eye level, she noticed of what appeared to be burn marks at her wrist, they were going up her forearm; only a trained eye would have caught the darker sides under the concealers.
"Morning, Miss," Ymir said graciously, though slowly.
"Good morning," Miss Reiss greeted her pleasantly. "Fancy meeting you here."
"I'm a child of God, best to stay with my flock," she easily told her as she escorted her up the steps of the chapel. All the while, Sasha was shaking her head, just like earlier.
Service was long, or at least it felt like it. The sun had reached its peak by high noon, for light poured in through the rafters, bathing Ymir and beckoning to wake up to the sound of,"...God's people say..."
"Amen," came Sasha and the other girl.
"Amen," Ymir echoed under her breath.
Braus had stepped away from the charred alter, most likely to drink his day away in his truck. Sasha stood up and seated herself by Ymir as Miss Reiss took to walking up to the alter for whatever thought that was crossing her mind.
"Not much of a woo'er if ya keep on sleepin' through service," Sasha said to her. "Ya shook them rafters with yer snoring."
"I can learn," Ymir said with a shrug as she tore a page off the Bible to wipe away a trail of saliva from her mouth. "Say, them Mormons coming in to replace your books?"
"Wrong people, idiot."
"Tch...this all she does?" She gestured her chin towards Miss Reiss as she meddled through the debris.
"Yup, every week. Nothin' special much."
Ymir clicked her tongue, her voice lowering. "She got some marks on her arms."
"Marks?" Sasha asked, brow raised, her tone though...
"Almost like burns...she suicidal or something?"
"Far from that- Miss Reiss, I'll be outside for a moment."
Miss Reiss nodded with a smile.
Sasha grabbed Ymir by her shoulder and hauled her up to her feet. She ushered her out the door, then pushed her against the wall. "I'm tellin' ya, stay away from her."
Ymir merely craned her neck. "Getting physical, are you?"
"We're gettin' this cash from her father-"
"It's more than being a supporter of Christianity, is it?"
"-an' the last thing we need is for ya to come waltzin' in and fuckin' her up, got it?"
Ymir shrugged. "Alright, alright, relax, I ain't gonna touch a single hair on her if that's what you wish."
Sasha sighed out of relief and released her reluctantly. "Now...get outta here."
"And if I start touching her, what're you to do?"
"For starters, I'll pro'lly just shoot you."
"That ain't Christian of you."
"Get goin'."
-...-
Sunday services...when was the last time she came over for that?
She shrugged it off by evening when the moon had taken the place of the sun.
She had decided to wander aimlessly through the town, she wanted something to occupy her mind the next day. It was on the highway that she caught sight of a lone figure walking along the highway. She squinted for a moment, unsure of who or what it was...whatever it was, it was definitely a person. She slowed down to have a better look as the figure had a thumb up.
A hitch-hiker.
Ymir halted several feet away from this person, eventually it stepped into the light.
"Evening," Ymir asked more than greeted.
"I...I need a ride to the nearest bar," the hitch-hiker requested, a girl.
"There's one three miles from where I came from, not much of a hassle to take you there," Ymir said, she gestured for her to come along. Once she was close enough, she got a better look of the person. Blue eyes, fair skin, fair face, Miss Reiss.
"Hold on," Ymir said, holding her wrist. "Miss, what're you doing all out here?"
"Ymir, it that you?" She asked of her.
Ymir slowly nodded; it was too quiet now. Even with the engine roaring under her, it felt too quiet, too eerie. She stared at her for a moment, long and hard, as though she were the most peculiar thing on the landscape.
"Ymir, you look pale," she said as she leaned close.
"Well, not every day you find a flower growing off the side of the side of the-ah!"
The girl's jaw opened up as though it were some fucking thing from a horror movie. Ymir was knocked off of her seat, but simultaneously, her bike had fallen atop her foot. Ymir yelped out and tried to break herself away from it, only to have the girl begin to crawl over the engine, awaiting her. Ymir tried to claw her away back as the jaw of that girl loosened itself, opening wider.
"F-fuck!" Ymir cried as she tried to use her hands to keep the girl away.
What the fuck. What the fuck. What the fuc-
-...-
"Get off of her!" Jean snapped.
Ymir found herself passed out on her couch.
When she shifted, a clatter of bottles from from her feet. Another night of binge drinking. She looked around, head spinning- she saw that Hanji was sitting on one of her legs, that would explain the weight. For another, the woman was too close, too uncomfortably close; that too would explain why she felt like she was being crawled upon.
"Gah!" She kicked Hanji off and sent her flying onto the coffee table, then the ground. "Weren't you supposed to be in mourning- ah! My fucking head!"
Ymir sat up, she rubbed her neck, groaning.
"The fuck happened here!?"
"Well, you came home last night with some girl, got utterly hammered with her, and then she up and left before light!" Jean exclaimed. "By the way, your pants are out on the yard."
Ymir looked down to find herself in only her panties, she stared at them, then at Hanji, then back at her panties. She tried to calm herself down. "...what'd the girl look like?"
"Blond hair, short, pretty eyes, almost angelic," Hanji listed off with her fingers. "You guys wouldn't let us join so there's not much to go off of."
"Did she give a name?" Ymir dryly asked.
"Something Lenz...Kristal? Krista!" Jean recalled.
"Sounded almost like Crystal Meth," Hanji said with a laugh as she got up, brushing her robes off from the dust. "Usually it takes a lot for you to get drunk, I'm surprised you got knocked out. And by beer too?" She picked one of them up, muttering to herself as she went off to her room to do Lord knows what.
The confusion she faced left Ymir feel out of place. She had her times of waking up in random places, the barn, the bar, a water tank, lots of places, but just being at home, it was the oddest thing ever. She shook her head and collapsed against the worn pillow.
Jean had taken to sit on the coffee table by her.
"What're you looking at?" Ymir asked gruffly, closing her eyes.
Jean always had a thing for staring at things he wasn't supposed to.
"Nothing...just hadn't heard you laugh like you did last night since ever," Jean said as though it were the biggest news since the earthquake from a decade ago. "Krista really got you going, eh?"
"Krista, Krista, never fucking...what did she, how," Ymir stammered through. "Uh...what day is it?"
"Tuesday morning."
"Alright...what was I doing last night?"
Jean paused for a moment, then told her,"Said you were going out for a ride, I dunno what you do when you fuck off."
Ymir nodded. Everything from last night...it was like it was a blur, nothing could be recalled. That dream though, it may as well just be a nightmare concocted from shattered memories from the night before. She had no idea what went on, and normally she never bothered to check, but now she just had to know.
The world spun and she felt sick to her stomach. Unceremoniously, she rolled to the side and puked over the carpet, much to Jean's displeasure.
"Ugh! If you said you were sick, you should have asked for a bucket!" Jean complained.
The only reply came in the form of a middle finger.