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Of peach-pink lipstick and dead frogs

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For the first time in her entire high school life, Historia Reiss sat alone under the courtyard's old oak tree. It was lunchtime; usually, she'd be surrounded by her gaggle of friends. Ymir would be hanging off her shoulder, Reiner Braun and Bertolt Hoover playing catch—or attempting to play catch. Most of the time Bertolt often missed his catches, usually landing face first in the grass. Reiner would laugh, stealing glances her way to see if she was laughing too. It was funny the first few times, then it became incredibly boring after the thirtieth fall. Hitch and Marlowe would be in the back bickering about something she has long since tuned out.

Historia wasn't used to sitting alone like this. She tried to maintain her usual air by crossing her legs and staring at whatever notification popped up on her phone, but soon that became boring too.

Yet, despite the lack of her usual company, Historia did not hate the solitude at all.

Still, she had nothing to do and so continued staring at her phone, scrolling back and forth on her news feed to find something—anything—engaging. She heard voices and briefly looked up to see Eren Yeager, Armin Arlert, and Mikasa Ackerman walk by. Armin was, per usual, chatting about something regarding the latest game he had been playing and some tactic he managed to pull off that scored big points while Eren kept walking. Mikasa tagged along, a rather thick black book in the crook of her arm.

Mikasa briefly looked her way and Historia averted her gaze back to her phone, pretending as if she never noticed them. It was a few minutes later when she looked up again, the trio was halfway across the courtyard.


"Next month, we will have dissections!" exclaimed the biology teacher Hange Zoe. The entire class remained silent but there was a definite air of dread hanging over everyone. Hange, apparently the only one who was excited about the project, walked through the tables of her classroom, handing out one piece of paper on each table.

"This is a review worksheet in preparation for the unit. Each of you will be working with your table partner for this. No changing partners!"

Usually, Historia would pair up with Marlowe since they were in the same class, but he had been keeping his distance and moved to the table on the other side of the room, making Marco Bott his partner for this project.

She turned to the seat beside her to see a girl dressed in all black writing her name on the paper before sliding it to her.

Mikasa Ackerman was her partner.


"Reiss. Reiss."

"Hmmm?"

"There's a spider on your shoulder."

"Where!"

Every head in the classroom looked in their direction. Historia's cheeks burned as she plopped back on her seat, wiping her shoulders.

"There's no spider."

Historia glared at the goth girl, who merely shrugged.

"Time to do your part," she said, sliding the paper towards Historia. She wrinkled her nose in disgust and glanced at the questions; she understood none of them but was in awe of Mikasa Ackerman's neat handwriting.


They were in the library.

Historia could not answer a single question on the sheet, and Mikasa refused to cover for her and so Hange Zoe assigned them extra homework. At Hange's suggestion, they were to come to her classroom after school for assistance if needed. Well, if Historia needed assistance. Mikasa managed to answer half the questions on her own so Historia doubted she would have any trouble answering the rest. If only she wasn't so freaking stubborn. Ymir would have answered these without her having to ask.

Too bad Ymir wasn't talking to her either. The biggest surprise there.

They sat opposite each other on the table, Historia hunched over the worksheet while Mikasa rested her chin on her palm, her fingers tapping the surface of the table. Lightly, but to Historia it sounded like she might as well have been beating a drum.

"Would you stop that?" she snapped.

"Why are you taking so long? This is literally labeling animal kingdoms."

Historia glared and returned to the current problem she was on.

"Historia, is this class hard for you?"

She remained silent, still staring at the problem in front of her. The same problem she had been working on for the past seven minutes.

Mikasa slid into the chair next to her, pulling out a blank piece of notebook paper. "So there are six animal kingdoms . . . ."


Cheerleading practice was to be indoors today. It was raining outside, so Coach Dietrich managed to secure half of the gym for them. The other half belonged to the volleyball team; there was a net that stretched from one side to the next, separating the two teams.

Historia was in the process of forming the top of the pyramid, a privilege given her short stature. It was no secret that everyone on the team was envious that she was always picked to be on the top. She ignored their whispers; she can't combat genetics. As long as her teammates catch her, then that was all she cared about.

"T-I-T-A-N-S!" she shouted, following the same formations Dietrich drilled into them. From up above Historia could see the volleyball team practicing. She saw Mikasa among them, having discarded her jewelry and exchanged her usual dark, long-sleeved shirt, dark-colored skirt, and combat boots for tank top and shorts with knee pads (all in black of course). Her black hair, which was usually pulled into two twin tails behind her head was now one ponytail, her bangs held away from her face by a red headband.

Historia was startled by Coach Dietrich's whistle, allowing herself to drop into the arms of her teammates.

"Historia, you okay?" asked her teammate, Mina Carolina. "You were spacing out up there."

Historia waved her hand. Thankfully, Dietrich called for a break. A five-minute break, but a break nonetheless. Historia took a seat on the bleachers, taking a long gulp from her water bottle. Mikasa was now in the front row, bouncing on the balls of her feet. Someone on her side of the net shouted something and Mikasa jumped, one arm raised above her head and coming down onto the ball, slamming it onto the floor on the other side of the net. Her form was very graceful.

The gym doors opened and the football team trudged in, soaked from the rain. Reiner appeared followed by Bertolt. Reiner glanced her way then looked away, jaw tense. It was only Bertolt who held her gaze a little longer, before following his friend.

Historia took another long sip from her water bottle until it was empty.


Again, they were in the library. Marco Bott had joined them because, according to Mikasa, he's a wiz at this stuff. Historia was a little surprised to hear that someone was smarter than Mikasa, though everyone has their strengths and weaknesses. Besides, if Marco and Mikasa are willing to help then all the better.

They had been studying for over an hour until they finally called a break. Marco went to the bathroom and offered to buy them all snacks, leaving just Historia and Mikasa alone.

"So . . . volleyball, huh?" Historia began. She mentally cringed at how obvious she was trying to create small talk.

Mikasa took no notice of it, flipping through her notes. "Yep. Been on the team since last year."

"Really?" Historia never knew that Mikasa was on the volleyball team last year. Of course, the cheer team rarely attends other sporting teams aside from football or basketball, but still. If Mikasa has been on the team since last year, especially with her skills, Historia would have at least heard about it from the others. "I never pegged you for a volleyball player. You just . . . didn't seem that type."

At that Mikasa gave her an incredulous look. "Seriously? Why? Just because of how I dress?" Mikasa scoffed. Historia didn't mean it that way, but she could see how Mikasa would interpret her words like that. Mikasa snorted. "You'd know that if you paid attention."

Historia said nothing, fidgeting with her hands. Then she sighed, her lips pulling into a grimace. "Yeah, you're right."

After a few minutes of silence, Mikasa then spoke. "I have a game. This Friday. A home game against Orvud High. You can come if you want."

Historia glanced at Mikasa. The taller girl kept looking at the wall next to her as if it had something remarkably interesting, and Historia noticed she had a pink tinge on her cheeks. It was adorable.

"Sure," she grinned.

Marco then returned with snacks in hand. He had a bag of chips for each of them, though Historia preferred the little stack of cookies from the vending machines. Marco apologized profusely, but Historia reassured him it was okay, and there was always next time.


Historia sat by herself in the bleachers as the Trost volleyball team jogged onto the court, earning the applause of the crowd. Immediately, she caught sight of Mikasa, wearing the red uniform of their school and the matching red headband. Mikasa looked in her direction and waved. Historia waved back until a few seats below her, Eren Yeager, Armin Arlert, Sasha Blouse, Connie Springer, and Jean Kirstein waved back, standing on their feet and whooping. Historia blushed; maybe she wasn't waving at her. Maybe she didn't see her.

Regardless, Historia stayed.

It was a gripping game; many volleys back and forth on the courts, lots of shouting and dives. Historia was in awe of Mikasa's prowess on the court, how she dashed, jumped, dived, and spiked the ball onto the other side of the net. It was apparent the other team too was in awe and even scared as well. Historia couldn't help but beam when it was Mikasa's turn to serve and Orvud High tensed, some backing away in fear of the force in which Mikasa served the ball.

And the crowd loved every minute.

Really the cheerleading team should cheer for the volleyball players.

Historia cheered in her own way and stood up with the crowd when they won. Historia made her way down the bleachers when it was over. She had just reached the floor when Mikasa appeared in front of her.

"Glad you came," she said. Her gray eyes shined bright, flushed with the adrenaline of victory.

"Yeah. That was a good game. And congrats on the win."

"Thanks. I saw you up there. I even waved at you. You should have joined my friends; they were a few seats below you."

Oh.

Oh.

Oh.

"I—I—"

"Mikasa!" another volleyball player came by, tackling Mikasa in a hug. "Awesome play back there." She high-fived Mikasa, which was when she noticed Historia. She didn't say anything and turned back to Mikasa. "Let's head back to the locker rooms. Coach needs to give her post-game speech."

"Right." Mikasa then turned back to her. "Hey, why don't you join me and my friends later? It's tradition for us to go out for dinner after a win."

Historia glanced at Mikasa's friends. All of them were chatting happily with each other. Sasha Blouse suddenly struck a pose much to Jean Kirstein's chagrin and the others in the group were laughing. She wasn't part of this group of friends, never ever was. She used to think they were an insane bunch, and she was sure they still remember her attitude towards them. "I dunno—"

"I want you to," she said. With that, Mikasa ran off with her team for the post-game speech from her coach.


It was the most awkward moment of Historia's life.

Standing in front of the locker rooms, leaning against the wall just outside the circle Mikasa's friends had formed. They were talking about a bunch of random things. Armin about some random update in a game he has been playing and his new strategy to boost his guild. Connie was fully engrossed though it was clear he was just as lost as her. Sasha was daydreaming about food while Eren and Jean shook their heads in amusement.

"Historia."

Historia looked up as Eren called her, having separated from the group, and approached her.

"Are you okay?" he asked. "I called you three times and you didn't answer."

"I'm fine."

"You waiting on someone? I don't think Reiner had football practice at all today."

"I'm not waiting on Reiner."

"She's waiting on me."

Mikasa appeared, her volleyball uniform exchanged for her typical darker clothes. The silver jewelry also returned as well as her signature black lipstick. However, Historia noticed Mikasa had skipped out on the dark eyeshadow.

"I invited her to come to dinner."

It was clear everyone in the group had questions. Connie opened his mouth to ask why but Sasha quickly shut him up with a playful chokehold. That seemed to send a message to everyone else. Sasha was the first one to speak.

"Let's go! I'm going to die of starvation; we don't even know where we're going to eat!"

"Hell's Kitchen," Mikasa said automatically.

"No."

"Let's go someplace with Wifi—"

"Armin, you're not playing games while we celebrate Mikasa's victory."

Historia couldn't help but laugh as she followed them.


She reached for the last chocolate milk at the same time another hand appeared. She looked up, following the tall, lanky body of Bertolt Hoover.

"Bertolt," she greeted. The tall boy pulled his hand back and said nothing. Historia took the last carton. "How are things?"

Again, Bertolt remained silent. Someone else appeared, Annie Leonhardt. She peered into the fridge where all the milk was kept. "Out of chocolate milk." She clicked her tongue and walked away. Historia glanced at Bertolt who was watching her go. Historia rolled her eyes.

"You're really lame you know."

Historia marched up to the counter, paid for the milk, and placed it on Bertolt's tray. "There. Give that to Annie. She likes to eat by herself in the back of the school near the JV fields."

"What?"

"Annie. JV fields. Don't give me that look Bertolt. I know. Everybody knows. Annie likely doesn't since she's almost never here. Just give it to her. Now go, before things get more awkward."

Despite how short she was compared to Bertolt, Historia managed to push him in the direction Annie went. He tensed and looked back at her. Historia nodded, and with a deep breath, went in the same direction as Annie.


Mikasa wanted to study at her place. There wasn't any real reason for why, just that she wanted to be at home. Historia had no objection to that. Mikasa's goading by saying her mother had some snacks at home for them to munch on wasn't really needed for her to say yes, but she still looked forward to having a snack or two.

Mikasa's home was a modest apartment in the city where she lived with her mother (Mikasa is literally the spitting image of her mother, Historia thought). Her mother worked as an accountant. Her father died when she was ten (Historia had to do a double-take when showed a picture of Mikasa's father; she didn't believe Mikasa when she said that was her biological dad), and ever since then, it had just been Mikasa and her mom.

"Will you be staying for dinner?" asked Mrs. Ackerman as she set a plate of cookies in Mikasa's room where they were studying. "I don't mind if you do."

"Mom."

"Oh. Um, if you're alright with it, sure."

Mrs. Ackerman smiled brightly. "Great! I'm making spaghetti tonight, so I hope you're in the mood for that." She left the girls alone and they continued studying. After some time passed, they decided to stop.

"Ugh, my brain is overflowing with biology," Historia whined, leaning back into her seat.

"Aah."

Historia craned her neck to see Mikasa's look of horror, her eye shadow smudged all the way down to her cheek. Mikasa stood up, moving to her dresser's mirror and pouting at the damage. She pulled out a pack of makeup wipes, cleaning her face of her makeup. "And I was so proud of it too."

"I've always wondered what you used to do your makeup," Historia said, standing next to Mikasa and examining her makeup stand. "Now I get to see how you do your thing. And I'm not really surprised by the color choice either." She laughed.

Mikasa's entire makeup stand was in all shades of deep, dark, and mysterious. Dark lipstick, dark eye shadow, dark eyeliner. She had a few lighter colors, but it was clear Mikasa was more prone to a certain end of the spectrum. Historia picked up a used tube of dark red lipstick aptly named 'Blood Wine.'

"Your favorite?" she asked, holding up the tube.

Mikasa nodded. "This I use more since it can go with anything." Mikasa held up a very, very used tube which was named 'Black Soul.' Historia chuckled, glancing at the rest of Mikasa's makeup display before noticing a small peach pink lipstick.

"This is such a cute color. You should use it!" Historia could only laugh at the look of disgust on Mikasa's features. "You should! Why did you buy it if you were never going to use it?"

"I didn't buy it," she said. "It was a gift. From my cousin Levi for my fourteenth birthday. I told him I liked makeup, but he didn't know what shade to get."

Historia nodded. "Well, I still think you should at least give it a try. I think it would look cute on you. Oh, I know! For one day—just one day—why don't you try a girly style?" At Mikasa's incredulous look, Historia quickly added, "Just for one day, that's it." She held up one finger. "I can imagine all the hilarious looks you'd get if you did that."

Mikasa paused. "Okay, I'll try it. But you're going to do this with me. So that means, you are going to dress up goth." Mikasa smirked, a mischievous light dancing in her eyes.

"Deal. We pick out each other's outfits and do makeup. No way I can replicate your style. Besides, I want to look like a vampire queen." She raised her hands in the air, forming claws and hissing. Mikasa laughed, a big hearty kind of laugh, and it sent Historia's heart racing.

"This is going to be fun."


The looks she received in school the next day were so entertaining. Clad in all black and dramatic makeup, her blonde hair as the only piece of color in her ensemble, Historia walked through the doors of the school with purpose. All heads turned to her. Historia couldn't help but lift her chin and walk like a regal queen. A regal vampire queen.

She passed by Reiner. She almost laughed at his double-take as she walked down the hall. Ymir was just around the corner too, her eyes wide.

While she felt like an all-powerful goddess of darkness, she still had to go to class. Opening her locker briefly interrupted the dark gothic image as she exchanged her government textbook for her biology one. There was a light tap on her shoulder, and she turned around to see Hitch.

"Oh," was all she said.

"Hello, Hitch," greeted Historia. "Do you need something?"

Hitch paused. "Uh, no. I—um," Hitch stared at something behind Historia. "That's a new look for you."

"Oh, thanks!" Historia beamed. "I was going for a vampire queen look. Do I make for a good vampire queen?"

Hitch drew a blank stare, clearly not used to such a light response from her. Someone called Historia's name and both girls turned as Mikasa Ackerman, wearing a pink sweater with a lacy collar, pink polka dot skirt, black stockings, and a pair of rose-gold ballet flats, approach. Her peach-tinted lips quirked upwards. It was also clear that Mikasa couldn't help but bob her head up and down, playing with the bouncy half curls in her dark hair.

"Hey," she greeted. "Ready to head to class?"

"Yep! Let's go!" Historia closed her locker, joining Mikasa and making their way down the hall. "I really like the hair clip. It's cute."

A slight pink shade dusted the bridge of Mikasa's nose. "Thanks. It's actually my mom's." It was a simple little red bow that swept her bangs to the side instead of her usual fringe. "Love the smokey eye shadow. It really makes your eyes pop. I like your eyes."

Historia's stomach flipped at the compliment. She always received compliments on her eyes but hearing it from Mikasa just seemed to floor her.

"Do I look like a vampire queen?"

Mikasa laughed. "Yes. You do look like a terrifying vampire queen."


Dissection day came and Historia dreaded it. She was prepared, she went over the material hundreds of times. Marco and Mikasa helped her, but she still dreaded it. She lost so much sleep too. Just imagining the little frog corpse, cutting through the flesh, and seeing all its insides.

Historia shuddered.

Historia sat at her desk, fidgeting with her thumbs. Mikasa was silent, but she occasionally glanced at Historia and at her twiddling thumbs. All the items were laid out before them and the two girls snapped on a pair of gloves. Then the frog was laid out on the table before them.

Mikasa had grabbed the scalpel before her. "I'll do the physical stuff, you fill out the worksheet."

Historia had never felt more grateful.

They got an A.


Mikasa and Historia decided to hang out at Historia's place this time. There wasn't an actual reason why. They had no tests to study for, no projects to complete, no upcoming dissections. There weren't even any games either. They just wanted to hang out.

"Hello!" Historia's elder half-sister, Frieda, greeted Mikasa, flashing her a bright smile. "Are you staying for dinner?"

"I'm not sure," said Mikasa simply. "Oh, I'm Mikasa, by the way."

"Oh shoot, my apologies. I'm Frieda." The dark-haired girl shook Mikasa's hand, flashing another one of her bright smiles. "Nice to meet you!"

Historia gripped Mikasa's sleeve, tugging her to follow. Mikasa noted the pout forming on her lips.

"Sorry, I gotta go. It was nice meeting you."

Mikasa followed Historia, allowing the blonde woman to practically drag her to her room. Despite Historia's demeanor in school, the décor of her room was plain. She had a simple dresser and mirror. A small makeup stand, and a simple closet. Historia's room was simple. Well, mostly simple. Historia's bed was rather large, and the frame was intricate with fancy drapery around it. Not to mention it was also quite big.

A hand waving across her face broke her out of her thoughts. Historia giggled.

"Oh shush," Mikasa said, her cheeks burning.

"Sorry for rushing you earlier. My half-sister can be a chatterbox at times," said Historia.

"It's fine," she replied, stepping closer to the dresser and looking at the photos on top. Some were of Historia through the years, others with her and her sister or her other siblings and family members. Though she did notice the lack of pictures of her friends.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"What happened to you and the others?" she asked. Historia gave her a confused look to which she continued. "Reiner, Bertolt, Ymir and the rest."

Historia lay down on the bed, staring straight at the ceiling.

"I kissed Ymir," she said. Mikasa said nothing, prompting her to continue. "We were all hanging out at Hitch's one day. She had a Wii, but only three controls. Hitch, Marlowe, and Bertolt were playing. Reiner wouldn't stop talking, and then there was Ymir, and so I kissed her, on the lips, in front of everyone." She half laughed. "Man, you should have seen the looks on all their faces. Then after that—" she shrugged "—it is what it is."

"Do you regret it?"

Historia shook her head. "No. It felt like a weight had been lifted off my chest. Like as if I didn't have to hide that anymore since it was all out in the open. I'm disappointed they all just stopped talking to me like that, but it proved that none of them were really my friends."

Mikasa sat next to Historia on the bed.

"Do you want to try?" she asked, her voice tiny.

Historia sat up, staring at Mikasa. Did she hear right? Mikasa didn't look at her, but there was a lovely shade of red on her cheeks.

"Do you?" she asked. "I mean, do you want to?"

Mikasa paused, the blush becoming more prominent. After another moment, she nodded.

Historia's heart began to race but she calmed herself down. She sat on her knees, back straight as she faced Mikasa. Mikasa turned towards her too, her face red as a tomato but with determination in her eyes. No wavering, no doubt in those gray pools. It was as if Mikasa felt the same as well.

Historia leaned forward, closing her eyes. Every inch felt like a mile, every second like an eternity, but it was an instant and she felt soft lips against hers. The scent of Mikasa's hair—coconut milk—filled her nose, and the warmth of the other girl so near. And then all too soon, it was over.

Historia opened her eyes. Mikasa sat back, eyes fixed on something on her sheet while one hand covered her mouth. Historia's stomach dropped.

"Not really into it?" she asked.

"What? No, no," she said, her voice raising an octave higher. She blushed again when she realized how loud she was. "No, it's not that." She paused, trying to think of what to say next. "It's just, I got nervous. I thought you might have had expectations."

Historia paused, then giggled. "Mikasa. You're so cute." She giggled again. "I don't know what made you think I was like that. It's not like I've kissed a plethora of other girls." Her face felt warm. "It's only been you and Ymir. I've only had enough courage to kiss you two."

"Right. Yeah."

"But—" she fidgeted in her seat "—you're the only one I like. I like you and I can proudly say I got to kiss the girl I like."

"Sure. Like as if we'd really say that was a kiss," she replied sarcastically. "But I want to try again." Mikasa leaned closer. "Because I like you too. I like you a lot."

Historia blinked once. Twice. She wanted to ask Mikasa to say it again, to confirm that she heard Mikasa correctly. She doubted she'd get her to say it though. Mikasa was still blushing immensely, even with the determined look in her gray eyes. Honestly, if things were reversed and Mikasa had asked her, Historia knew she wouldn't be able to say it again.

So instead of asking her, Historia leaned in. She took Mikasa's face in her hands, happy the other girl didn't flinch. She closed her eyes and pressed her lips against Mikasa's. The kiss was different this time. For one, it was longer, much longer than the first one. Deeper, as she opened her mouth against Mikasa's. Historia could tell that Mikasa was enjoying this as well as her, which made it even better. Historia gently took Mikasa's lower lip, tugging it before putting space between them.

Both girls were silent for a long moment, and then they started laughing.

"I think we may need to keep working on that," said Historia.

"I agree," said Mikasa.


Historia sat alone under the courtyard's old oak tree. She was dressed in her cheerleading uniform, her pompoms in a gym bag next to her. She was waiting, flicking through the notifications on her phone. It wasn't long before a shadow loomed over her, blocking the sunlight. She looked up, covering her eyes as she took in the sight of Reiner Braun's hulking figure.

"Hey," he said.

"Hi, Reiner."

"Can I sit?" he asked, gesturing to the bench. Historia nodded, throwing her gym bag to the ground, and scooting over to give the bigger man enough room. "How have you been?"

"Good. I'm in my cheerleader uniform—" she gestured to her herself "—so soon I'll be leaving for the cheer team tonight."

"Girls' Volleyball team, right? I heard it was you who pushed for the cheer team to be at one of their games," he said. He chuckled at Historia's proud nod. "I hear they've been doing very good this year."

"Yep!" she beamed. "And if we win today's game, we qualify for the semi-finals."

"'We' huh?" Reiner said. "It's been a long time since I've heard you say that. Back when that 'we' meant you and I."

"Reiner I—" Historia paused. "Reiner, there was never a 'you and I' between us."

Reiner nodded. There wasn't a sad look in his eye, just an accepted look. "I know. I guess I've always known, but I never fully realized it until then." He paused. "A lot of people said we looked good together and I guess hearing all that made me a fool."

Historia nodded. "I should apologize Reiner. I should have said—"

He shook his head. "No need to apologize. We both played into it, and it almost seemed real. Almost. It's different with you and Mikasa." He smiled cordially. "You'll still be cheering for the football team in the playoffs, right?"

"Definitely."

"Awesome." Then Reiner stood up. "Well, I'll be heading out now. Ma wants me to watch over my cousin while her parents work late. Maybe I can bring her over for the game."

"That would be great! See you around."

Reiner waved goodbye and left.

A few minutes later, another figure approached, this time the lanky figure of Ymir.

"'Sup?" she greeted, taking Reiner's old seat. "So, you're heading over to today's volleyball game. And the entire cheer team will be there. That's exciting."

"Yep! And then if we win, we'll be in the semifinals."

"Neat. How have you been?"

"Well. And you?"

"No complaints. I hear you and Mikasa Ackerman are a thing. Never thought Goth Girl would tickle your fancy."

"Mikasa is honestly really cool," said Historia. "She's really smart, good with makeup, and is amazing at volleyball—well, actually any sport you can think of. You should've seen her on the basketball court—"

"Whoa, girl. No need to try and make me jealous now! Especially of Goth Girl," Ymir laughed. "You know, you've changed." At Historia's inquisitive look, Ymir added, "You're just more . . . spirited. I don't think I've ever seen that in you, Historia."

"Oh. Thank you."

Ymir nodded, a smile spreading across her lips. "Well, I better get going then. Just wanted to check up on you."

"Wait, Ymir," Historia called. When the other girl looked back, she added, "Why don't you come and watch the game tonight?"

Ymir laughed. "Nah, sports were never really my thing. Watching the Big Lug run around bored me to death. I only went because everyone else did. I'll be fine; I'm going to the arcade anyways. Ya'll have fun."

With a wave, Ymir left.

Historia leaned back in the bench, pulling up her phone again. She went through all the notifications, read all the status updates, and thumbed a like wherever she felt like it. And then suddenly she was in the dark, cool fingers gently covering her eyes.

"Guess who?"

"Oh, let's see," Historia giggled. She pulled the other person's hands down and looked up. "It's Mikasa!"

The other girl laughed. "Were you waiting long?"

Historia shook her head, standing up and throwing her bag over her shoulder. "Nope, not really. I mean I had a few people come by and chat with me."

"Like whom?"

"I'll tell you on the way there. Let's get going or else we'll be late!" She took Mikasa's hand and together they made their way out of the courtyard.