Historia wiped the sweat from her brow, letting out a tired breath as she straightened. She glanced around at the field, her eyes pausing at each mound of dirt. She had spent the whole morning planting seeds in one of the smaller fields of the village's farms.
The week since she had arrived here had flown by, each day beginning before the sun even rose above the rolling hills and each day ending in darkness, collapsing onto the bed in the room she shared with Sasha.
Historia raised her gaze. Hanji's house was at the bottom of the small hill where she stood, a sloping field of growing vegetables. Beyond that lay the rest of the village. She could see the town hall and knew that behind that, at the bottom of that gravel road, was the small train station.
Turning slowly, Historia took in the acres and acres of fields that surrounded her. The village was completely based on agriculture, everyone living on what the fields gave them. It was hard to believe that the same country that seemed so quiet and peaceful, a life of animals and fields and fresh air, was at war.
Historia slapped her gloved hands together, splaying out dirt in all directions. She started making her way down the hill, returning to the place she now called home.
The house was half hidden by a forest, the trees getting closer and closer the further away from the building they were. Historia followed the tree line with her eyes until she reached the large house at the top of the tallest hill in the village. The estate was at the centre of the farms, the main 'fort' of the village. The man who owned it was called Erwin Smith. From what she could remember, that was who had taken in the blonde boy from the train – Armin Arlert.
"Christa!"
Historia snapped her gaze forwards and saw Sasha waving excitedly from the back door.
"Hey!" she called back.
"Thanks for your hard work." Sasha smiled, offering a glass of water.
Historia took it gratefully and gulped it down greedily, the cold liquid smoothing her raw throat.
Passing back the empty glass, Historia peeled off her muddied boots and placed them beside the door. She followed the brown-haired girl inside, walking into the hallway and across it to the kitchen.
Historia slumped against the counter. "Please tell me it's lunchtime?" she asked.
Sasha laughed. "You'll have to wait. Hanji's taking us out."
Historia looked over at her. "Huh?"
"Hanji's taking us out for lunch once she gets back from work. She has a half day today."
Hanji worked at a munitions factory in the neighbouring town. Before the war, everyone in the village worked on the farms but many of the women now travelled to the factory, leaving the farming to the children or the women who couldn't afford the train.
Historia sighed. "And what about you?"
Sasha blinked. "What do you mean?"
"You were up working before me." She peered at the girl's clenched fists. "I doubt you could wait till Hanji gets back."
Seeing Historia's interest in her hands, Sasha immediately shoved them in her pockets. Historia laughed. "I'm not going to take anything away from you."
Hesitating a moment, the girl slowly pulled out her hands and opened them to reveal chunks of bread that she had mysteriously had time to tear from the loaf on the counter.
Over the past week, Historia and Sasha had become good friends, working together, eating together, sleeping in the same room. Though Sasha woke up before she did and they both were too tired at night to even consider talking in the darkness of their room, they had gotten to know each other. Of course, Historia had left out quite a bit about herself and she sensed that Sasha was holding something back as well. But she had a friend and some secrets didn't really matter.
The front door slammed, startling the two girls. Sasha quickly stuffed the bread into her mouth, gobbling it down as rapidly as she could before Hanji reached the kitchen.
"You ready, girls?!" a voice called as the woman bounded into the kitchen, arms open wide, her overalls pulled down to bunch at her waist, a dirty white shirt the only thing she wore underneath.
Historia had been slightly thrown at first by Hanji's way of dress but was beginning to get used to it. Dresses and skirts didn't seem to take any part in her wardrobe. Then again, that girl had been wearing trousers. Historia hadn't been able to forget that girl she saw on the day she arrived here. Ymir. I wonder where she is.
A hand on her shoulder jerked Historia out of her thoughts. Hanji's face was close to hers, a grin spread across her lips. "I'm taking you to meet Petra." She said.
"Your friend at the munitions factory?" Historia asked.
"Ah, well, yes, but we've worked on the farms for years together before we did any of that." She straightened. "I'll get out of these and then we'll be off."
As she turned to leave, she waved a hand at Sasha. "And try not to eat too much."
Sasha choked.
-#-
The three of them walked up the road from the mismatched house, the forest to their right. After a while, the forest started to move away and houses dotted the side of the road.
Historia's eyes were drawn to a building further up the road, smoke rising from the chimney, quite apart from the surrounding homes.
"What's that?" She motioned towards it.
Hanji answered. "That's the blacksmith."
"Reiner is an apprentice there," Sasha added. "And Bertholdt is the village's farrier. He works from there as well and travels to the stables up at the estate when he needs to."
"Reiner and Bertholdt?"
"You'll get to meet them soon enough." Hanji threw her a smile. "But first – my friends."
"Yes, ma'am!" Sasha stopped in her tracks and saluted. Historia couldn't help laughing behind her hand.
They took the road that split off from the one that went past the blacksmith and reached a bungalow. The windows were gleaming in the afternoon sun, the door painted a bright white, the garden out front perfectly ordered and the flowers blooming.
The moment Hanji's foot touched the footpath, the front door opened to reveal a blonde haired woman wearing an apron over the top of her clothes.
Pulling at her skirts, the woman smiled at them. "Hanji! You're earlier than expected."
Hanji seemed to almost dance up the footpath, her grin wider than Historia had ever seen it. "I would have been even earlier if Sasha hadn't been stuffing her face before we left."
"Hey!" Sasha protested.
Historia followed Sasha up to the doorstep. The woman smiled warmly at them. "My name is Petra. It's nice to meet you. It's Christa, isn't it?"
Historia nodded. Before she could reply, Hanji grabbed Petra by the shoulders. "I smell lunch."
Sasha also seemed to have caught the scent of food from the flare of her nostrils and the hopeful look in her eyes.
Petra laughed. "Yes, yes, come this way." She welcomed them inside and closed the door behind them.
Petra pointed them towards a dining room while she returned to the kitchen for the food. The room was quite large, a wooden table in the centre, two of the seats already taken.
The boy stood up as they entered. Historia immediately recognized him and the girl seated beside him. Eren and Mikasa. So that must mean that short man is here aswell?
Historia felt a sense of unease. The man had seemed a bit scary from what she'd seen and she didn't really want to be sat at a table with him.
"New people!" she heard Sasha whisper under her breath.
One glance at Sasha's expression dashed all uneasiness and Historia smiled, stepping further into the room.
Eren bowed his head slightly as Hanji approached him. "You the ones Petra and Levi took in?"
"Yes, ma'am," he answered formally. "My name is Eren and this is my sister, Mikasa."
Sister? Historia studied the girl. The red scarf she had worn before was now in her lap, her hands holding onto it tightly. Her dark eyes gazed back evenly. She nodded in greeting. She looks nothing like him.
"Just call me Hanji." She waved behind her. "This is Sasha and Christa."
Eren turned to them. "Ah, I recognize you from the train. You were sat opposite us, weren't you?"
Historia nodded. "That was me." She couldn't think of anything else to say and stuttered out, "It-It's nice to f-finally meet you."
The sharp click of shoes behind her made Historia turn around. The short imposing man that had met the two at the station was stood behind her. His eyes seemed to look straight through her.
"I didn't think you were going to take in another one," he said.
"Sasha needed a friend."
"We're not dogs!"
They took their places, Levi at the head of the table. He wore a white shirt and black trousers, everything about him perfectly clean and placed. Petra soon appeared, serving the food, telling them to "have what they wanted" and to not "hold back."
Historia soon realized that her first impression of the short man had been wrong. His words were still calm and sometimes curt, but his actions were careful and it was obvious that he shared Petra's joy in having Eren and Mikasa share their home.
"When are you returning to the frontlines?" Hanji suddenly asked halfway through the meal.
Historia saw Petra stiffen.
Levi had also noticed, his eyes watching her, and then he slowly looked up to meet Hanji's curious gaze. "In a few days. Erwin is leaving tomorrow."
"Erwin?" Hanji learned forwards slightly. "But didn't he take in that blonde boy?"
Eren and Mikasa looked up, both alert.
"That boy will be fine. He won't be left on his own. That estate isn't exactly empty."
Eren looked like he wanted to say something but was holding back. Levi turned to him and motioned for him to speak.
"Sir, that's our friend." He glanced at Mikasa. "Would it be alright if we went to see him?"
Historia was surprised that they hadn't met with their friend already. A week had passed. Had they been like her and not left the boundaries of their new home?
"I see no problem with that," the man replied after glancing across at Petra who had nodded in agreement.
Once the meal was over and everything cleared away, the three of them stood at the door, preparing to leave.
Petra suddenly cried out, saying she had something she wanted to give Hanji and rushed down the hallway. Eren and Mikasa were stood in the kitchen doorway, their farewells already given.
Levi stood beside them and placed a hand on Hanji's upper arm. "Look after her while I'm gone," he said quietly.
Hanji grinned. "Of course I will!" she said freely.
But the look in the man's eyes seemed to darken. "Hanji. Look after her. Please."
Her grin froze. She nodded solemnly. "You know I will."
At that moment Petra was walking back down the hallway towards them, a small package in her hands. Hanji's expression brightened. "Just make sure you come home to tell me all about those Nazis and their ammunitions!"
"You have the strangest interests," Levi said in a flat tone.
"Here you go." Petra joined them, passing Sasha the package.
"I thought it was for me?" Hanji looked disappointed.
"It's for all of you."
The package was actually something wrapped up in a kitchen towel and Sasha moved it aside to reveal a steaming hot pie.
"It's a blackberry pie. Mikasa and Eren helped me." Petra looked over her shoulder at the siblings who smiled back, Mikasa hiding her face behind her scarf that she had wrapped around her neck again, Eren looking slightly embarrassed but pleased for the acknowledgement.
"Thank you!" Sasha said, recovering the pie with the towel. "You'll have to show me how to make one sometime."
With a promise to have a future cooking lesson and their final goodbyes and words of appreciation said, the three left, walking down the footpath and away from the warm house.
As they walked back home, Historia glanced at the two beside her. Sasha looked happy, her hands holding the pie like something that would shatter if she mishandled it. Hanji had a small smile on her face but something in her eyes unsettled Historia. It was as if she was peering into the future and whatever she saw saddened her.
Sensing the girl's stare, Hanji looked at her. The dark look in her eyes vanished. "We'd better hurry – it looks like a storm is coming tonight."
And sure enough the sky was black and grey with heavy clouds, the air damp and humid with approaching rain. Sasha looked horrified. "The pie will be ruined!" She quickened up her pace and the other two struggled to keep up with her without pushing themselves into a jog.
As they reached the jumbled up house, Hanji passed the keys to Sasha who raced inside. Historia made to follow after her but the woman grabbed her wrist and pulled her back.
"Do you like it here?" she suddenly asked.
"Wha- yes, of course I do." Historia was surprised.
Hanji pushed her glasses up her nose. "You were quiet today."
"New people, new places – that's all. It's nothing to worry about." And it was the truth. Historia loved it here – the people were honest and kind, the village warm and the atmosphere something she had never felt before.
Hanji hesitated, and then sighed. "Okay." Rain started to fall around them, large drops landing on Historia's head, her pale dress darkening with the wet. "Okay," she repeated. "We'd better get inside."
-#-
Historia found Sasha in the kitchen, cutting the blackberry pie into slices. Once finished, she licked the knife clean off the dark juice and crumbled crust.
"You're still hungry?"
Sasha startled, spinning around, her tongue still on the knife. She moved it away from her mouth. "I'm just cutting it up for tomorrow."
But Historia had spotted that one of the slices was missing and found it on the counter behind the girl, placed on a small light green plate. "What's that then?"
"That's for…now." The girl smiled sheepishly. "Do you want some?"
She shook her head. "No, thanks. I'm going to get changed."
The day had past them by in a blur, and they had spent most of the day at Levi and Petra's, talking over cups of tea after their dirtied plates had been cleared away.
Before going to her room, Historia searched for Hanji and found her already collapsed on her bed, outside shoes still on. She went over to her and untied the laces, slowly pulling them off. She got a blanket from the laundry room and pulled it over the top of the sleeping woman.
With a smile, Historia quietly closed the bedroom door and went to her own room. After unzipping her dress, she pulled her nightdress on, slipping her cold feet into a pair of slippers that Hanji had given her.
She sat on the end of her bed and looked over at Sasha's side of the room. It looked very much like her own side, except for the bow that leaned against the bedside cabinet. Historia had once asked about it. "It's something from back home." The girl had replied.
Back home… From what Historia had got, Sasha wasn't just another evacuee moved across the country because of the war. She seemed to have been living with Hanji for longer than that, before the war had even started. But Sasha hadn't told her anything and Historia was unwilling to ask any more questions when she too was hiding secrets.
She didn't realize she had fallen asleep until a loud banging noise woke her up. The bedroom was dark and cloaked in shadows. The sound of gentle snoring from Sasha's side of the room meant the girl had come to bed without her notice.
Listening, the banging noise seemed to come from outside. The wind was violent, the window shutters rattling as the rain pounded against the ground outside.
It's probably the outhouse door. The outhouse was a small store shed on the edge of patio at the back of the house, just before the fields started. It contained all the equipment that was needed to farm – seeds, rakes, shovels…
Historia raised herself up, her slippers quietly padding on the floor as she crept out into the hallway and down to the back door. She had no coat and had forgotten to take Sasha's from the hook behind the bedroom door. Hanji's was hung up in the outhouse so she could wear that for the return to the house.
She pushed open the door, grimacing at the loud click that echoed around the silent house. She slipped out, leaving her slippers inside, and grabbed her boots. She hurriedly put them on and sprinted across the patio, the rain pelting down around her.
Reaching the outhouse she saw that the door was unlocked and slightly ajar. She grabbed the handle and threw herself inside, closing it quickly behind her. This rain is insane. Are storms always like this in the country?
As Historia shifted her feet, her boot caught against something on the floor and she bent down to pick it up. Squinting in the darkness she made out the shiny metal of the lock that had kept the outhouse door closed. Maybe someone forgot to lock the door after them.
She reached up to place it on one of the shelves above her and blindly searched for the lantern she knew was there. Her fingers hit glass and she brought the lantern down, along with the box of matches. She struck one, the flame lighting up her face and casting weird dancing shadows around her. Focusing on the lantern, she fiddling with it, putting the light match close until the wick lit and brightened.
She blew the match out and returned the box to the shelf. She raised the lantern high and turned around to scan the dancing shadows.
She moved further in until the light shone against the back wall of the outhouse and she slowly turned around on the tips of her toes, searching for any sign of what might have entered the outhouse. She expected to find a rat, maybe a stray dog, or even a runaway sheep from one of the fields. What she didn't expect was the shivering huddle in the corner, almost hidden behind a metal box pushed up against the wall.
She crept closer.
"Go away," a voice threatened. "Get out of here before I slit your throat."
There was a flash of silver metal in the orange light and a cold chill ran down her spine.
"Did you hear me? Get out."
But Historia couldn't move. She was frozen to the spot.
The blade flashed again and a face peered over the top of the box. Brown eyes gazed emptily at her. The huddle shifted. Historia raised the lantern higher, shuffling half a step, her legs blatantly refusing to work.
The huddle moved again and the face became clearer, shadows flickering across the person's freckled features. Wait- freckled?
Historia's legs suddenly jumped forwards. "Ymir?"
The huddle startled, the face disappeared back into the shadows. "How the hell do you know my name?"
Ignoring the question, Historia moved closer, crouching down beside the box, resting the lantern on top. "What are you doing here?"
There was no answer. The rain thundered above them against the outhouse roof, a wind like the ominous voice of gods sweeping in from under the door. Rain ran down Historia's face, freezing against her skin, dripping down under the collar of her nightdress and down her back.
She shivered.
The huddle moved again and the girl's face appeared once more in the lantern's light. Her brown eyes held something unfathomable and black. The sharp thin line of her lips and the empty gaze that stared at Historia made her lean back.
"You're that girl from the train…" the lips moved, her voice low and throaty. Her lips are dry and cracked.
Historia brushed back her wet hair behind her ear and looked the girl straight in the eye. "My name is Christa." She stuck her hand out.
The brown eyes stared blankly at the offered hand and then, after a long pause, a large calloused hand reached out and took Historia's. "Ymir."
Historia smiled. "Yeah, nice to meet you, Ymir."