"It's raining," Ymir was lounging in the empty bath tub, flicking a green leaf between her fingers. "Do you like the rain?"
"I do," I was in front of the mirror, buttoning up my blouse and wondering if I should brush my hair. It seemed okay from what I could see.
"Really? I thought you wouldn't because it'd ruin your face," she snickered, motioning and gesturing away, "wouldn't it feel gross with all that stuff?"
"It does feel gross," it felt weird to talk about it. Most people avoided the conversation because it was so bizarre. "But the rain is relaxing, isn't it?"
Ymir hummed as she lulled her head back, staring up at the window that was ajar behind her. The rolling thunder and rain pummeling the water pail outside was loud within the bathroom, but it wasn't bad. It sounded alive—it made me feel alive because I knew with all the storms the trees and grass and leaves will be the most vibrant green I'd ever see, and the irises and hydrangeas would smell prettier than any perfume Mother ever bought.
It'd sweep away any debris and sticks spring's showers and winds brought and make the forest nearby beautiful, ready for early autumn walks without a care in the world.
These thoughts only reminded me how much I had missed Grandmother's house. Back then, Papa was alive and would bring me everywhere, telling me about America and show me how to make nectarine jelly.
Hah.
No matter where I searched, no matter how deep I went into Farmer's Markets, nothing ever compared to Papa's jelly. Made with love, something very rare and hard to find, Grandma would say.
"Ah, so you can smile," Ymir was smiling and stretching as she adjusted her position in the tub, "I can tell because of your eyes. It reached your eyes—the best kind of smiles."
I brought my hand up and slipped it onto my face, touching my cheek and feeling the smile itself. I didn't savor it because I wasn't that sad before. Just tired. Awfully exhausted all the time. The feel of my taut cheek made me think of tart green apples dunked into caramel.
"Of course I can smile," I retorted, pulling my hand out and leaving the bathroom. I heard Ymir struggle and protest until she dislodged herself from the tub and came jogging out and catching up with me. "Everyone can smile."
"Mm yeah but your smile—I want to see it more often. I'm sure it looks pretty." Ymir mentioned, leaning down a bit to try and take a peek at my face. I rolled my eyes at her. She was very casual about these sort of things. I had to wonder if she just didn't care or if she was this accepting of people.
"Historia?" Grandma was out on the couch by now. She was sitting and listening to an audio book, knitting a small blanket. "Ah, there you are, you're leaving right? For your appointment?"
"Yes," I came over to her and put my hand on her shoulder, squeezing it lightly. She stopped what she was doing and took my hand in hers, patting it.
"Good girl. Now, you got a rain coat, right?" She asked.
Ymir was peering over Grandma's yarn bowl, seeing something wiggling inside until the infamous crab from before popped out of it, playing with the strawberry pin cushion.
"Mm, no, I don't, but I have other coats," I told her and she shook her head.
"That won't do. I have a rain coat in the closet, dear. Please, take it. I will worry if you don't. I can't tell your mom I got you sick by letting you walk in the rain with a small coat!" She fussed and glanced in the general direction of Ymir.
"Ymir? Don't you have a coat?" She asked with worry.
"Um," Ymir gave me a strained look, "no… I don't think so."
"Ah!" She cried! "Your family must be worried sick, knowing its rainy season and you're without! Here, in the closet over there, John's rain coat should still be in there. It might be very big on you but it'll have to do."
I went over to the closet with Ymir trailing behind me and opened it to find Papa's coats still inside. I sorted through until I found the large yellow coats neglected in the farthest corner.
"You're just like your Grandfather, Historia, saying no rain would hurt. The ol' thing thought he was so strong until he got a tiny fever and then, oh, he would cry and act like he was dying! I hope you're strong like me, dear, and can kick a cold." Grandmother laughed, clapping her hands together.
"Oh! Also, Ymir," Grandma began and I giggled at Ymir's expense because Grandma was a big talker when she could, "I hope you don't mind me keeping your pet crab here with me. I worry he'd get cold or eaten? He's just in here with me so don't worry. He seems to like my balls of yarn! Do crabs eat yarn?"
"I'm not sure?" Ymir smiled. "But I think he's happy, too, ma'am."
"Of course, of course," Grandma agreed but I had to cut her off before she got carried away.
"Gamma," I reminded, "me and Ymir are going to go to my appointment and do some errands."
Grandma was quiet for a moment before laughing more.
"Oh my! I just talked Ymir's ear off! My, my, yes, go, go, shoo! Off to do important things before you really get me started!" She covered her mouth with her fingers, waving at us with her free hand.
Ymir slipped into the coat but it wasn't as large as I thought it would have been. Papa was a tall man yet Ymir must've been just as tall if not more if she could fit his coat so snuggly.
"Perfect fit," Ymir remarked and caused Grandma to gasp.
"Truly? You must be a giant Ymir! Oh, how nice it must be to reach the top shelves!" She lamented her envy and Ymir chuckled.
"If you ever need help with cleaning high places, just ask," she suggested and I knew Grandma would take her up on that offer eventually. After all, Grandmother's genes were the ones that cursed me to such a small existence.
"We're off, Gamma," I called out to her and opened the door, shoving Ymir through it first and finally getting out.
"What?" Ymir snickered. "Didn't like me getting so cozy with your grandma? Maybe she'll adopt me, too."
"Adopt you, too?" I asked, drawing the rain jacket hood over my head, and lifting a bare hand to the rain beyond the porch roof. The water was warm and it still brought the scent of the ocean with it, too.
"Yeah, aren't you adopted?" Ymir asked, curious. "You two look nothing alike."
I snorted as I descended the steps and onto the front yard and walking down the path to the gate.
"We're blood related," I told her, "Papa was an American."
"Oh? Well, that says a lot about your hair and eyes, then," Ymir remarked, jumping off the porch and tagging along. She even held open the gate with a wink. I could hardly see the relation between last night Ymir and today's Ymir.
"That must've been hard," Ymir said, glancing at the destruction of last night's storm. There were tree branches collected in piles in the ditch as we went up the hill. The clinic was built on the very top of it with the small resort and a few restaurants. Only one large office building rose higher than the tree line and was made up of several small companies for every floor.
Papa used to work in there to keep records and payments of clientele who purchased firewood for the coming winters. When it was late summer and fall, though, he was always gone in the forest with his friends, chopping wood until the late hours.
Sometimes Papa brought me and Grandma along. We would go pick berries, flowers, roots, and mushrooms while him and his crew stayed in the lumber area.
When I looked at Ymir, seeing her wearing his raincoat, it made me miss him a lot. I often wondered why it didn't hurt so badly when he left. Maybe it was because it had been long ago and that I was busy with school and Father, but, another part of me was whether I had loved Papa at all…
"Historia?" Ymir pulled me out of my thoughts.
"Hm?"
"You're really bad at listening," she whined, huffing, "I said it must've been hard, right? Looking like a foreigner and stuff?"
"I could say the same," I jabbed back at her and Ymir shrugged.
"I wouldn't know. I have no memory, remember?" Ymir clicked her tongue. "Next time, if it's a touchy subject, just say it? Don't have to be a dick about it."
I felt my cheeks redden, realizing that I was being sort of mean. It was just hard to stand there and have someone pick at you like a five year old with blunt questions.
"Sorry," I mumbled.
"Eh, it's fine," she shrugged, "I guess what I asked wasn't exactly something Jane Austen would approve of."
"Jane Austen?" I snorted. "Like the author?"
"Huh? Who?" Ymir was confused until she realized what she had said earlier. "Wait, I said something about someone? A writer?"
"You don't know who that is? Well, yeah, a writer… maybe you have some memories still in you?" I wondered because it was interesting and mysterious. If we were talking about books then Ymir's would be a murder mystery or about investigations since she was an unknown person with a forgotten past.
What would mine be, then? (A/N: A badly written fanfiction)
"Hm. Maybe! And your doctor would be help that, right?" Ymir seemed to be optimistic about it. She pondered comically with a hand scratching her chin.
"I wonder if I was an alien or some hero who jumped through time?" She loudly fantasized. I shook my head.
"Most unlikely. You chose a weird place and time to come here."
"Yeah, that's true, but I got a strange and equally interesting side-kick out of it, though. Hm. You need a name…"
"It's Historia, I don't need another. Thank you." I assured her because God only knew what awful thing she'd think of next.
"You will be called Blondie Pants McGarbage Head." Ymir announced and I exhaled.
"And you're Captain Asshole, renowned for their power of free speech." I replied. Ymir nodded.
"Indeed!"
I swatted her into her tummy and she coughed, billowing out a bark of a laugh as we trekked further and further up the hill until we finally reached the clinic's doors. It was surprisingly humble given Dr. Hanji's popularity and success.
"Doesn't look promising," Ymir didn't care whether she said it loud or not, "you sure she can even help you?"
That made me awful.
Really awful.
But I smiled even if she couldn't see it.
"Father says she could. So, I have to try," I told her, opening the glass doors and walking in. Ymir came inside, too, despite her skepticism.
"Good morning! Welcome to—" the blond haired boy behind the counter was surprised as his eyes went wide.
I felt my blood run cold.
"I apologize," he recovered, "welcome to the clinic! May I sign you in for a scheduled appointment?"
I nodded weakly and walked up to the counter, feeling my hands shake as he handed me a clipboard with a form.
"Just sign here and here, please," his eyes were searching, glued to my face, and only it. He was devouring my mask and trying to peel it back to see me—to see what sort of fucked up person I was to be wearing such things.
"Thank you very much," his eyes still didn't leave, " please, have a seat here, and we have a coat rack over there if you please."
Ymir pulled me along to the coat racks and got out of her soaked coat. She didn't give me the time to recover as the blond boy took the clipboard and disappeared through a door.
"Who is he?" She didn't seem impressed with him.
"He's my cousin…" one I had seen in a very long time and one that I didn't want to see. Last thing I wanted was to uncover my mom's secret and expose myself for who I truly was.
"Yeah? Well, he shouldn't be a jerk about it," Ymir's deft fingers unbuttoned my coat for me and I helped her take it off of me. "I don't want your fingers wet. It'd ruin your… y'know."
She gestured again and I nodded.
"Yeah, thanks," but it was barely appreciated. I just kept worrying now that Armin knew who I was. I wrote my name down after all.
I brought my hands up to my face, rubbing at it, but all it did was make it feel damp and scratchy.
I didn't even have time to think it over as the doctor's door opened with a slam and a joyous woman appeared before it.
"Miss Historia Reiss! Hello! Would you like to come inside so we may begin our chit chat?" Dr. Hanji bellowed like she was giving a speech.
Ymir shot me a dubious look.
"Of course," I got up. I was going to leave until Ymir took my hand and forced me to look at her.
"What about me?" She whispered as her eyes darted around. As if she was scared.
"I will ask for you, but this is my appointment," I assured her. "You have to stay outside."
"What? Why? Can't I just come with you?" She hissed.
Dr. Hanji cleared her throat, tapping the door impatiently.
"No… this is for me only." I didn't have to say it for her to understand that I didn't trust her knowing my life. She didn't seem hurt but she did seem bothered as she let me go and crossed her arms and slopped herself into a chair, pouting.
I was ushered into the spacious office and was sat down as Dr. Hanji leapt into her chair.
"So! You seem interesting to talk to, Miss Reiss. Now, I understand from what your father has said about your predicament, and, I would like to ask—will you please take off your mask?"
In here, I was an animal for her to dissect and see how I worked. I was the subject of treatments and testing.
So, things such as my psych and comfort didn't matter to her, I knew. I just had to obey and let her take care of me.
I brought my hands up and slid the crinkled mask off as Hanji closed her eyes with her smile intact.
"I won't look unless I have your permission." She told me.
It was strange for her to ask because we both knew she'd have to look one day anyway.
I stared down, watching my hands move as I placed the paper bag onto her table—my little mask—mesmerized by its vacant eye holes and seeing the dampness where my mouth was located.
Without it, I felt like my paper bag mask—breaking apart and melting underneath the torrents of rain that began to crash in the outside world.
"Yes. You can look."
