Chapter Text
Math homework, missed.
History essay, missed.
Squinting her left eye, Ymir lifted her balled-up French homework above her head then threw it at a recycling bin across the library. The paper struck the wall behind the bin, bounced off, and landed in front of it, beside her history essay and math homework. With a yawn, Ymir turned herself in her seat so she could kick her legs onto the table. Crossing her left leg over her right, she took out her phone and swiped down the notifications tab.
[No Notifications]
Ymir leaned back in her chair, keeping her calves pressed against the table. Her arms hung over the arms of the chair, and her phone dangled loosely in her left hand. There she sat for several minutes, casually rocking back and forth while staring at the ceiling. In the far corner of the library, she could hear someone shifting through the shelves. She began to doze off, and her grip on her phone began to loosen.
Then her phone vibrated, jolting Ymir from her stupor and into an upright posture. Her phone fell from her hand and clattered across the floor. She leaned over the side of her chair, muttering curses as she reached for her phone. At the same time, the library door opened and a lone person entered. Ymir, with her back to the door and her attention elsewhere, did not notice the newcomer’s approach.
“Ymir?” Historia’s sudden appearance startled Ymir and she fell forward onto her stomach, her arm outstretched towards her phone. Historia took a step back, then knelt down; “Are you alright?”
Ymir patted the floor with her outstretched hand. “I dropped my phone.”
Historia looked to where Ymir’s hand was, and saw her phone just inches away. Smiling, she resisted the urge to laugh at the situation and leaned over Ymir to get the fallen object. In the same instance, Ymir looked up and saw Historia’s chest only inches above her face. Ymir stared for a few seconds, saving the image in her mind, before slowly turning her face back to the floor. After those moments that felt like years, Historia returned to her previous position, sitting now, and offered up Ymir’s phone to her. Still facing the floor, Ymir lifted her hand and took her phone, then lowered her arm back against the floor. “Thanks.”
“Do you need help getting up?”
“Nope, I’m good here.”
Historia got her feet under her and stood up, dusting off her pants, “Are you sure?” Ymir stayed on the floor, but raised her right hand in a thumbs-up. Historia shrugged, “If you say so, see you in French.”
“Yeah, see you later.” Ymir lifted her head and watched Historia as she exited, her eyes trained on the blonde’s backside. ‘I’d French you.’
Historia stopped just before she reached the door and began to turn around, so Ymir hurriedly returned her gaze to the floor before Historia could catch her staring. “Do you need any help, Armin?”
“I’ve got it!” From the strain in Armin’s voice, it did not sound like he had it. Historia did not ask again, and gave him a small wave before exiting the library. Ymir began to stand up and pulled out her chair again to sit down when a series of bangs came from the far end of the library. Ymir slowly turned around and looked in the direction from which the clamour originated. She noticed that a few textbooks had spilled out from behind the bookshelf, and then she observed as a hand extended from behind the bookshelf and knew what had happened.
“Oi, Arlert. You–”
The door opened again and Ymir’s speech faltered when she caught sight of another short, blonde girl enter the room. She pursed her lips in embarrassment when she realized that it was not Historia, but Annie Leonhart with her hair down. This was odd, because Annie always kept her hair in a tight bun. Annie surveyed the room from left to right and her eyes met Ymir’s halfway. She acknowledged the taller girl with a nod, which Ymir reciprocated. Annie continued her examination of the library as Ymir sat herself down until her eyes came to rest on the aisle where Armin was with his still-scattered textbooks.
She began to walk over and knelt down where Ymir could still see her. “Annie, hey! When did you–?”
“Why were you trying to carry eight textbooks?” At the announcement of the number, Ymir snorted. There was no way that Armin could have hoped to carry that many books when he could hardly lift a single nine-kilogram weight. It was a wonder how he walked to school every day with his over-stuffed backpack.
“Well I need one for AP Calculus, one for Government, one for–”
“I get it.” Annie’s curt response made Ymir roll her eyes. She could never understand how these two became a couple (the only things they seemed to have in common were that they were both blond, blue-eyed, and stupidly smart).
‘Maybe it’s that Aryan thing? But Armin’s Jewish so that didn’t make sense.’
“Annie, I can carry those!” Ymir was snapped back from her thoughts when Armin raised his voice. Annie had begun to walk away with five of the textbooks. Armin followed with the remaining three, which were all noticeably thinner.
“I’ve got it.” Annie transported her cargo across the room, where a swollen, blue backpack sat atop a table. Armin hustled after her, hauling the remaining books with him. Once they had deposited the volume, Armin sat down while Annie remained standing at the opposite side of the table. “You can bring four home.”
“But I have homework for every class!”
“I know that you’ve completed four of these classes’ homeworks already, and you only have your double period of Government left before the day ends.”
Armin looked down, sheepishly avoiding Annie’s gaze. “I just want to make sure that I have a full grasp of each topic…”
“You read each of these textbooks over the summer, and took notes,” Ymir leaned back in her chair, watching the sitcom-worthy scene unfold before her eyes, “and I’m going to end up carrying most of these home for you if you do bring them.”
So that was how Armin managed to travel between school and home each day.
“But you would help me, right?” Ymir gagged when she heard Armin’s sweetened tone, but neither of the two blonds at the table seemed to notice.
Annie remained silent for a moment before turning away from the table, “Do whatever you want.” She began to walk away, and Armin watched her go with a grin on his face before he realized something and began digging into his pocket.
“Annie!” He called, standing up with his hand still in his pocket and hobbling after Annie, who stopped and waited for him with an expression that did not betray any reaction to his awkward advance. When he reached her, Armin stopped and produced a simple, black hairclip from his pocket. “You left this at my house after you left yesterday, and I just remembered that I brought it.”
Annie took the item from Armin’s hand and began to expertly arrange her hair into a bun, “We had two classes together, tiger.” Ymir nearly gagged again at the nickname, but covered her mouth. Annie and Armin noticed her movement this time, and paused their conversation and movements for a moment to regard her. Ymir gave them a small wave and pulled out her phone to feign indifference. The duo continued to observe her for a moment before redirecting their attentions to each other. “You could have given it back to me earlier, since nothing usually escapes from that mind of yours.”
“I like seeing you with your hair down,” Armin explained, “you look cute!”
Annie’s normally pale skin flushed, and Ymir feared that she would choke to death if they went on like this. Annie finished tying her bun and looked at Armin straight in his eyes, which seemed to fluster him. “I’ll see you after school, usual place.” With a quick sideways glance at Ymir, Annie leaned forward and pecked Armin on the cheek before walking to the door and leaving him alone with Ymir.
“See you later…” He murmured, slowly raising a hand to the spot where Annie had kissed him. Ymir could not see Armin, but he knew that he was probably smiling from ear-to-ear. Armin also could not see Ymir, but he was not thinking about how she was making gestures like she was choking behind his back. After standing for a few moments, he walked back to where his books and backpack waited. For several minutes, Armin and Ymir sat in silence; the former dutifully taking notes from the library copy of Plato’s Republic and the latter scrolling through her phone without interest.
Eventually, Ymir became bored enough to put down her phone and resume her earlier reclining position. Trying to think of a way to entertain herself, she drummed her fingers on her thigh. A lightbulb went off in her head, and she slowly rotated her head towards Armin, who was still engrossed in his studies. Quietly, so he would not hear her coming, Ymir rose and snuck around Armin’s table. Once Ymir was directly behind him, she strode over and slapped both her hands onto Armin’s shoulders. The surprise elicited a quick shout from the boy, and he whirled around to face his assailant. “Y-Ymir! What was that for?”
“Some fun,” she answered coolly, “there’s not much to do in here.”
“You could check out a book…” Armin suggested, but his voice trailed off when Ymir leaned against a bookshelf and crossed her arms, “Ymir? What’s wrong?”
“I’m curious, how’d you do it?”
Armin slipped the graphic bookmark that Eren had given him for his birthday into Plato’s Republic and shifted his chair so that he could face Ymir more easily. “Do what?”
“Annie.” Armin coughed embarrassedly and quickly covered his face with his hand. Ymir, upon realizing his misinterpretation of her reply, bowed her head and sighed. “That’s not what I meant at all, dumbass. Don’t think that I’d give you that much credit.” Ymir lifted her head and gave Armin a mocking smirk. When Armin did not respond to her taunt or even look up at her, Ymir’s expression changed into one of confusion, then wide-eyed realization. “You’ve gotta be shitting me.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“What the hell… You too?” Ymir sat down beside Armin, who scooted back a bit. She rubbed the bridge of her nose and sighed again before pointing at Armin, “Look, Arlert. I’m gonna be real with you for a second and you’ll tell no one, capisce?” Armin was about to respond, but Ymir closed her eyes cut him off; “Despite my charm and good looks, I’m the only one in our grade who doesn’t seem to be getting any action. Until today, I thought that we were comrades in this despair.” She opened up one eye to ensure that Armin was paying attention, and withheld a grin when she saw how his face revealed his bewilderment. “But now, I realize this, young coconut;” Ymir reached out and slapped her hand down onto Armin’s shoulder, which shocked him into sitting up straighter, “you’ve got game, and you’re gonna help me out. Here,” She leaned back and fished her phone out of her pocket, “what’s your number?”
Armin responded mechanically; “104-171-3184…”
Ymir typed the number into her phone, and patted Armin twice on the shoulder before standing, “I’ll call you later, thanks again, golden boy.”
“Uh huh…” Armin watched her return to her original table and retrieve her bag. ‘What?’