Chapter Text
“As you know, Rose Junior High prides itself on fostering a supportive community where every student can thrive. You'll find plenty of opportunities to excel academically and socially. Our teachers are dedicated, and our programs are designed to help you reach your full potential…”
The man in front of her half-heartedly gestured to the colourful posters on the walls as he continued to drone on. From the corner of her eye, Historia could make out the hordes of students fading in and out of the fibre-glass window of the office, some chatted animatedly, some moved with purpose, while others seemed lost in their own thoughts, much like she felt at that moment.
“–have a vibrant culture of equity, diversity, and inclusivity where…” He seemed to match Historia’s inner feelings by constantly glancing at his watch several times, his voice growing more monotone with each passing minute. She, in contrast, tried to play the part of the interested student by nodding along to his spiel, and even throwing a couple of "oh's," "whoa's," and "hm's" to sell her performance even further. Anything to show that she wasn’t like those spoiled disrespectful brats that were causing a huge ruckus outside the office, despite it being past first period and they should be in class now. She was different. She was the responsible studious girl who put her head down and did her work and listened when the adults were talking. She was the–
Oh shit.
She was so lost in her thoughts that she didn’t realize she was being called out.
“Miss Lenz?”
Time to switch gears. She took a took a deep breath and in her most cutesy voice:
“Oh, I’m so sorry, Mr. Dok,” she clasped her hands forward and rested her chin on them. “But would you mind going over that again? It’s just my nerves acting up, being the new kid and all.” She forced a giggle out of her throat, hoping to mask her earlier lapse in attention.
Mr. Dok's expression shifted from mild irritation to a resigned sigh as he facepalmed himself lightly. Here we go again . “I asked if you had any other questions, Miss Lenz. Unless you want me to go through the entire orientation package again.”
“That won’t be necessary, sir!” she squeaked. “I have learnt all that there is to know about Rose Junior High. I’m excited for this opportunity to be a part of the diverse student body and contribute to the vibrant and social community and am proud to call myself a Rosebud!”
Fuck, why did they have to chose Rosebud to be their mascot name?
Mr. Dok arched an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. "Is that so, Miss Lenz? Well, just remember, if you have any questions–"
His sentence was cut off by the sound of an audible thud from the window, startling him out of his chair. Historia turned to see what had caused the commotion. Outside, two students were in the midst of a heated argument that had escalated into a physical fight. One of them, a boy with unruly hair and green eyes, had his face pressed against the glass by another boy with light brown hair and an evil grin.
Mr. Dok clenched his jaw, his eyes flashing with irritation as he glanced out the window.
"Goddamn it, not again!" he cursed under his breath. “I can never get a fucking break."
You and me both, Mr. Dok , Historia thought, as she observed the vice principal of Rose Junior High stride towards the door. He flung it open with more force than necessary, yelling out his frustrations to the two miscreants.
“Yeager! Kirstein!” However, instead of calming down, the boys started arguing even more vehemently. They pointed fingers at each other, their voices growing louder with each accusation. But despite his best efforts, the situation seemed to spiral out of control.
And that’s when Historia took it as her cue to leave before things got worse. As she walked down the hallway, she noticed hordes of students continuing about their day, unfazed by the tussle outside the office. Their attitudes told her that the fight was either not the most exciting thing to happen all morning, or it was simply a regular occurrence at school that it didn’t warrant their attention.
Rose Junior High was your typical public school and it showed everywhere; the hallways were dimly lit, fluorescent lights flashed on their own time, the paint on the walls was peeling, and the lockers were dented and scratched, many of them hanging slightly ajar. The students themselves seemed to reflect the school's challenges. Their clothes were worn, and many carried expressions of weariness, boredom, or rage against their circumstances.
In the midst of all this, stood Historia Reiss, against the world. No, Krista , Krista Lenz stood against the world. Yeah, that’s right. It would be hard to ignore the sense of neglect and despair that permeated the school but Krista was determined to make the best of this new beginning.
As she reached her beat up locker, she took a deep breath and began to put her things away, trying to shake off the lingering unease. She had faced challenges before and came out stronger; this would be no different.
But Historia was tired of being strong.
The constant need to prove herself, to adapt to new environments, and to push through adversity was wearing her down. For just this once, she wanted to let her guard down, remove her mask and be herself without worrying what other people thought of her. If things were different and if she was feeling a little braver, she would have dropped the Miss Perfect act and went nuclear.
Her breath quickened, and she could almost feel the weight of her self-imposed constraints lifting, if only for a moment. Her fingertips tingled with anticipation, her heart pounded in her chest, and the corners of her mouth tugged upwards, threatening to break into an unrestrained grin.
But just as quickly as it arrived, the feeling dissipated. Or rather, she shoved it back into the recesses of her mind and returned to being Krista Lenz, the new student at Rose Junior High who was running late for first-period history. If she didn’t hurry soon, the bell would ring and she might miss something important like test dates or project announcements.
As she darted through the hallway, Historia caught sight of a group of students laughing, oblivious to the first period bell. They seemed carefree, their interactions easy and natural. For a moment, she felt a pang of envy. She wondered if she would ever feel that comfortable here, or if she would always be on the outside looking in.
Then one of them caught her staring.
Their eyes locked, and for a moment, Historia found herself unable to look away. The girl was tall, with medium-length choppy brown hair pulled back into a short ponytail. She wore a wrinkled, oversized grey shirt that hung loosely on her thin frame, and a black choker highlighted her tan neck. Her baggy pants were off-white from repeated use, and she had on ratty brown boots that looked like they'd seen better days.
From Historia's vantage point, the girl seemed even taller and prouder, her relaxed posture against the wall exuding an air of effortless confidence. She appeared completely calm at potentially missing the first class of the day as her compatriots chattered nearby. The girl’s amber eyes, sharp and curious, seemed to take in every detail of Historia in an instant, almost making her feel exposed in her own polished appearance; her pleated skirt, starched white top, knee high socks, and tennis shoes looked drab and dull compared to the girl’s nonchalant outfit.
For a split second, Historia felt the girl could see through her carefully constructed facade. Just by her outfit and attitude, this girl seemed to embody all the things Historia swore off her entire life. Something hot stirred inside her heart – was this intimidation that she was feeling? Or was it admiration ?
The girl raised a finely plucked eyebrow, a faint, amused smirk playing on her lips. Historia quickly averted her gaze, feeling a flush of embarrassment rise to her cheeks. Whoever this girl was, she was up to no good. She was out here openly skipping class so who knows what other kind of trouble she was into. Whatever it was or whoever she was, she couldn’t get herself tied up into it. She quickened her pace, trying to shake off the unsettling encounter, but the image of the girl lingered in her mind. There was something about her that was magnetic and unnerving all at once.
As she reached the door of her history class, she paused for a moment to smooth her hair and adjust her backpack, ensuring that she looked presentable. Taking another deep breath, she pushed open the door and stepped inside.
The classroom was already buzzing with activity, students rough-housing and shuffling papers as they settled into their seats. The teacher, a tall blonde man with the thickest eyebrows she’s ever seen, glanced up as she entered, unfazed by the noise of his class.
"Ah, you must be the new student," he smiled, his tone rich and warm but his blue eyes appraising at her every move. "Outside of these walls, I go by Erwin, but inside, I’m Mr. Smith, the history teacher."
She nodded politely. “Good morning, Mr. Smith. My name is Krista Lenz.”
Shit! Did she just really fucking curtesy in front of her goddamn history teacher like he was a king? Fuck, what was wrong with her? Why couldn’t she say her name like a normal person and take her seat?
“Welcome to History 101, Miss Lenz,” To his credit, Mr. Smith didn’t budge from his position nor she didn’t catch any signs of amusement in his eyes. “Usually, I find that new students have a smoother transition to their surroundings if they’re given a proper introduction to their class. But if you want to dive straight into today’s lesson then that’s fine with me.”
Great job, Krista. Mr. Smith now thinks you weren’t socialized enough as a child so he wants to parade you off like some kind of show dog. All she wanted to do was grab the nearest desk possible and sink into the floor.
“I’d appreciate that, Mr. Smith,” she said with a forced smile, making sure to show all of her teeth. “Thank you very much.”
"Class!" Mr. Smith barked, his deep baritone voice resonated through the room, commanding attention. The class immediately fell silent, their eyes turning towards him as he stood at the front of the classroom.
"Today, we have a new addition to our class," Mr. Smith announced, his tone authoritative yet welcoming. "Please join me in welcoming Miss Krista Lenz."
As soon as twenty-five pairs of eyeballs came on her, she knew this was a bad idea. But a girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do.
With a playful grin and a twinkle in her eyes, "Hi everybody!" Her voice was intentionally shrill and cute, causing a ripple of reactions among the boys (and some girls) in the class. Some blushed furiously, others tried to maintain their composure but failed miserably.
"She'll be joining us for History 101," Mr. Smith continued, scanning the room with a keen gaze. "I trust that you'll all make her feel welcome and help her get acquainted with our curriculum."
"Thank you, Mr. Smith," she replied. She offered a small wave to the class before sitting back down at the first empty desk she saw. Coincidentally, it was right beside a bespectacled kid with floppy blonde hair, dressed like a stereotypical nerd from an 80s movie. It was either him or sit in the spare spot behind him and have a girl as her seat neighbour except the girl looked like she belonged in a MCR music video rather than in a classroom. Goth girl or nerd? Krista chose the nerd. You can never go wrong with the nerd.
As she settled into her seat, she noticed the nerdy boy glance at her from the corner of his eye. He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, clearly flustered by her presence. She offered him a polite smile, which seemed to turn his cheeks a shade of pink.
"Hi," she whispered, leaning slightly towards him. "I'm Krista."
He looked startled for a moment, "H-hi, I'm Armin." He stammered out, his cheeks getting redder by the minute.
"Nice to meet you, Armin," Krista said, injecting even more cuteness into her tone “I’m so glad you and I get to work this close together.”
Armin's blush deepened, and he stammered, "Y-yeah, me too." He glanced away, adjusted his glasses again.
Mr. Smith's deep voice broke the brief exchange as he began the day's lesson, jumping into the events leading up to the Marley-Eldia War of 850. Krista tried to focus on the lecture, ignoring the hungry glances all the boys were throwing her way.
However, a sudden knock on the door broke her concentration. Mr. Smith paused, mid-sentence, and gestured for the door to open. The door kicked open, revealing a short, black-haired disgruntled man in a navy janitor's uniform. He held the collars of two petrified boys in each hand, like they were a pair of rowdy kittens. Upon closer inspection, Krista realized these were the same two boys who had gotten into a tussle earlier by the office.
Despite being easily dwarfed by the junior high boys (and nearly everyone else), the janitor seemed to exude a commanding presence based on how none of the boys kicked up a fuss like they did in front of Mr. Dok, and looked more terrified than defiant.
"Mr. Smith," the janitor said, his voice gruff but controlled, "Caught these two brats slacking off again. And right after their stunt by the office. "
“Ah, thank you, Mr. Ackerman.” In contrast, Mr. Smith’s voice was uncharacteristically warm towards the two delinquents as he bid his thanks to the janitor. “It seems you two had a rough start this morning but you can put all that aside and return to class.”
The janitor only snorted and released his hold on the boys, who exchanged uncertain glances, their morning bravado completely deflated. Mr. Smith gestured towards the empty seats at the back of the classroom. “Go on now, take your seats and let’s move past this.”
The two boys shuffled to the back, avoiding eye contact with their classmates. The brown-haired boy took his seat beside the freckled kid, who greeted him with a sad smile. Meanwhile, Krista’s heart sank as she watched the green-eyed boy settle into the seat right behind her, next to the goth girl.
Mr. Smith turned his attention back to the janitor. “Thanks again, Mr. Ackerman. I appreciate your help.”
Levi grunted in response. “Just doing my job.”
Mr. Smith chuckled, trying to lighten the mood. “Well, if you ever get tired of mopping floors, there might be a spot for you on the staff. You have quite a knack for discipline.”
Levi’s eyes narrowed. “I’ll stick to cleaning. Less paperwork and less responsibility over these brats.”
“Fair enough,” Mr. Smith grinned. “Just keep doing what you do best.”
Levi nodded curtly and turned to leave. “See you around, Mr. Smith.”
As the door closed behind the janitor, Mr. Smith turned back to the class, his expression returning to its usual composed demeanor. “Apologies for the disruption, everyone. Now, where were we?” he asked, resuming the lecture.
But seconds had barely passed when another series of knocks came, this time more insistent. Before Mr. Smith could respond, the door slammed open, and in walked a girl. Tall. Tan. Choppy brown hair in a ponytail. And those piercing amber eyes…
To Krista’s horror, it was that girl in the hallway.
Strangely, Mr. Smith didn’t get mad at her. “Ah, Ymir. Nice of you to finally grace our class with your presence.” He smiled.
Ymir smirked, not rising up to Mr. Smith’s sarcasm. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world, Mr. Smith.”
“Your record begs to differ. But either way, thank you for joining us.”
Krista watched in confusion as Ymir sauntered to an empty seat at the back of the classroom, not far from the green-eyed boy and the goth girl. The whole exchange left her puzzled. Why did Ymir get a pass when everyone else was expected to adhere to strict punctuality?
Mr. Smith cleared his throat, bringing the class’s attention back to him. “As I was saying, today we’ll be diving into the causes of the War of 850. Marley likes to argue that it was a natural response to the Eldian Empire’s legacy of oppression several centuries ago, that we were a threat that needed to be eliminated. But what Marley likes to ignore is that, five years earlier, they had already launched an unprovoked attack on Eldia’s walls, igniting the very conflict they claimed to prevent to which Eldia did not retaliate. And let’s not forget that Eldia was under an isolationist policy for over a 100 years while Marley continued their colonial conquests…”
Krista tried to focus on the lesson, diligently taking notes and attempting to absorb the information. But she could feel the girl's piercing amber eyes burning lasers into the back of her head, prickling her skin with the sensation of millions of needles.
It made no sense. Her backseat neighbour was the one who had caused a major disruption earlier but it was Ymir who made Krista's nerves fray. The boy should have been her primary concern. Yet, it was Ymir who was dominating her thoughts by the minute.
Why did Ymir get such lenient treatment from Mr. Smith? Why did she feel the need to make such a dramatic entrance? And why, despite the chaos caused by the two delinquents earlier, did Krista feel an even greater sense of foreboding from Ymir? Every time she glanced up at the board, her eyes darted back to the edges of her vision, half expecting to catch Ymir's gaze.
It was irrational, but she couldn't help it. Something about Ymir's presence was deeply unsettling. Everything about her screamed trouble. Krista had faced challenges before, but this felt different. This was a warning from the universe, a silent alarm telling her to stay on guard.