Chapter Text
Sighing softly, you reach into your brown backpack, fingers finding your black noise-canceling headphones. Holding the power button for a few seconds, you wait until the small green light blinks, your quiet cue that they're switched on. Shifting in your seat, you pull out your phone and place the headphones over your ears, adjusting them until they sit just right. One more press of the button checks the battery, a familiar habit that brings a sense of control.
"Battery about ten percent," the electronic voice announces. You frown, rubbing your forehead with the back of your hand.
You're fucked.
The flight is just a little over an hour, but knowing you'll have to go through it without headphones makes you wanna bang your head against the wall . You wish you could have taken a car instead. The planet would have thanked you, but more selfishly, so would your ears.
Almost nothing beats a car ride with your favorite snacks in the passenger seat, one of your hundred perfectly sorted playlists spilling through the car speakers, and the steady rhythm of the road calming your restless brain. It's even better as the passenger princess. As long as you can remember, you've loved it when your mom took you with her when she went somewhere by car, even if it was just a quick trip to the store or to visit a friend.
There was a bittersweet peace in those moments, a quiet comfort that allowed you to focus only on the music and the world passing by outside the window, everything else fallen softly out of reach. It felt like a brief pause in the rhythm of daily life; you didn't have to worry about the thoughts lingering in the back of your mind. All that mattered was getting from A to B before life inevitably carried on.
But with no current car of your own, there weren't many other options. Renting one was the only real one, and that turned out to be more expensive than you originally thought. So, starting off the broke uni student life right, you decided on the cheaper flight instead. Sorry environment.
Earlier this morning, when your mother hurried you out of the house, carrying your suitcase to the bus stop, while talking in the high pitched voice she always tends gets when she's stressed, you couldn't shake the feeling that there was something on your list that you'd forgotten to do. But even as you tried to mentally retrace your steps in your head, she pulled you out of your thoughts with yet another question regarding your things. "You sure you have your passport? Your boarding pass? Your water bottle?"
It's not like you blame her, the love and care she holds for you has always been utterly unwavering, and you can't thank her enough for that, despite everything that happened the last couple years. She's only human after all, trying to survive on this cruel planet. Just like you.
Now, you're sitting here, with only about 20 minutes of power left in your headphones, before you have to listen to the loud, incessant chattering of the girls sitting across to you. A few minutes earlier, you had walked up to your gate, which was still relatively empty at that time, and took a seat a few feet away from some middle-aged guy on his laptop and small family a row over.
It took only a few minutes before two girls, around your age sat down opposite to you and started babbling away, clearly oblivious to the other people waiting nearby as well. After a few minutes of enduring the painfully squeaky voice of the blond girl on the left, in combination with her red headed friend's loud, booming laughter you couldn't take it anymore. Grabbing your backpack, you slipped on your headphones, hoping to drown out their voices. As soon as you press the noise canceling button, the loud noises around you are muffled by the peaceful silence of your headphones.
[ 𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙥𝙡𝙖𝙮𝙞𝙣𝙜 - 𝙎𝙪𝙣𝙙𝙖𝙮 𝙗𝙮 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝘾𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙗𝙚𝙧𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙨 ]
Placing your phone on the empty seat next to you, your eyes leave the screen and start to sweep around the now-bustling, full gate. Most people around you waiting for the same flight, are rather busy with their phones or laptops. Only a few of them are actually indulged in conversations, like the girls sitting across from you.
It's moments like these that always make you wonder about the lives of the people around you, what their stories are, how their days went, and what led them here. You can't help it but wonder how many people here are on their way home, and how many are trying to escape, like you are.
Something moves at the edge of your vision, drawing your gaze and making you turn your head. By one of the large windows a few feet away, two kids are watching the planes take off, their wide eyes glued to the massive machines as they lift into the air.
That's until the taller boy, messy brown curls that fall into his face, turns to glance at his sister with a grin, clearly up to something. He reaches over and tugs on the smaller girl's ponytail, earning him a soft squeak before she nudges him in the arm in protest. The familiar sight makes you bite the inside of your cheeks, a rush of different emotions flashing through you.
These kids are so young, just at the start of their lives, with everything still ahead of them. So innocent that their biggest worry is a little sibling squabble.
And then there's you, maybe just about fifteen years ahead of them, yet already feeling as if you've ruined so much of your own life that its shadow will stretch endlessly into your future. That feeling never seems to disappear. Pestering your every thought, it hovers constantly, a dark cloud you can't shake. Your mind never seems to shut up about it, and when it finally falls silent, guilt sneaks in for having pushed it aside so easily.
Your gaze drifts to the mother approaching the two kids, probably to lecture them about their fighting. Too absorbed in the scene, you don't even notice the figure approaching you until a soft voice cuts through the air.
Turning your head, you find a small blonde girl standing in front of you, hands tucked neatly behind her back. Standing at maybe no more than 5 feet tall, she fidgets a little, offering you a sweet smile. Her big blue eyes rest on you, sparkling with curiosity. Long hair held up partially by a pastel purple hair clip, it matching the light purple cardigan she wears with her denim skirt.
You let your eyes briefly flicker over her form for a moment, before you push your head phones down to rest around your neck, your other hand reaching out for your phone to pause the music. "Yes?" Caught off guard, your eyes find hers .
The friendly smile still plastered on her lips, she holds out a small black square of fabric in her hand. "I think you left this in the bathroom."
You raise your eyebrows a little as you recognize your wallet in her hand, her delicate fingers with matching purple fingernails holding it out to you. "Oh, shit... thanks." Taking the wallet from her, you put it in the front pocket of your backpack. "I didn't even notice."
Scrunching her nose, she shakes her head gently, offering you another flawless smile. "No problem, I'm just glad that I could find you and you haven't boarded yet."
Trying to return a small smile, you're about to put your headphones back on, expecting her to walk away. But she hesitates and takes another step forward, rubbing the side of her arm awkwardly before softly speaking up again. "MSU?"
"Sorry?" You blink at her, confused.
Pointing to your wallet, she tilts her head curiously. "You're a student, at Marley State University right? Sorry, I didn't mean to snoop around— I was just looking for an ID to find the owner and I found your student ID inside."
Rubbing the side of your neck, you shake your head softly. "It's alright... Yeah, I just transferred."
The moment you confirm it, her eyes light up, smile widening a fraction. "That's so cool, I go to MSU as well! Sophomore year, I major in Politics."
You can feel a certain sense relief wash over you. The tension, that's been building up in your chest these last couple days begins to fade and is replaced by a warm sensation. Lately, every thought about having to actively socialize, trying to make new friends at the new University, made your pulse spike uncomfortably.
It's not like you were an antisocial person in general, but then again the few friends you had in high school all pretty much vanished after graduation. And it's not like your resting sad face helps your case. It always brings to mind what your mom said about it when you were younger, a morsel of comfort.
"That just makes the flowers bloom even brighter whenever you smile."
Naturally, the thought of having to start all over again, a brand-new city, unfamiliar faces, people you'll have to open up to, sends a wave of anxiety rolling through your nervous system. Especially since most people already form their friend groups during freshmen year, which automatically makes you, transferring before your sophomore year, feel like an outsider.
"I'm Historia, it's so nice to meet you." The short girl speaks up again, the smile never once leaving her pretty face.
"Y/N." You gesture vaguely before blurting, "Your sweater, it's really cute." Internally cringing at your awkward attempt to compliment her, she doesn't seem to notice, beaming even brighter as she thanks you sweetly. Shifting your phone from the seat next to you, you make some room. "You can sit here, if you want."
Nodding silently, she retrieves the bag she'd left a few seats away and brings it closer before sitting down next to you.
With her long blonde hair draped over one shoulder, those big blue eyes and that bright, effortless smile, she looks almost unreal. An angel stepped straight out of a dream. You can only imagine the popular she must be on campus, probably part of a big friend group. Maybe even a sorority. Girls like her seem impossible to overlook.
"So Y/N," she tilts her head, squinting faintly as she studies your face intently. "are you a freshman? I don't think I've seen you around campus before. Then again, the university is pretty big but I definitely would've have remembered you. You're not someone one would forget."
A light chuckle escapes you. "Is that... a compliment or an insult?" You raise your brows, trying to sound casual despite feeling a little flustered.
Historia shakes her head, her smile never faltering. "Oh it's a compliment, for sure. I wouldn't say it if I didn't mean it. You're gorgeous, Y/N."
Heat crawls up your neck at her sincerity. "You're really sweet, thank you." Tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, you can't help the small smile forming on your lips.
"And yeah, I'm new." you continue, glancing out the window for a moment before meeting her eyes again. "I just transferred from Paradis University. I'm a sophomore too."
"Oh PU is a great school! My older sister Frieda goes there. I personally like Marley State better, but I might be biased... the friend group I have there is pretty great."
Figures. Popular girl, like you thought.
"So are you originally from Paradis too?" you ask back.
She nods gently, slips the phone resting in her hand into her back pocket. "I was born in Sina, but we moved here when I was around four or five. We had to stayed here cause of my dad's job. I mean, I liked growing up here, and it's always nice to visit my family over the holidays, but I'm really glad to be getting back to Marley, to my family there."
Curiosity piqued by her mention of her dad, you tilt your head a little more. "Oh? What does your dad do?"
Historia shifts in her seat, giving you a small, sheepish smile. "He's... Paradis' governor, actually."
Your eyes widen. "Wait, Rod Reiss is your dad?"
Letting out a quiet sigh, she nods, her gaze drifting toward the gate. "I guess that's one of the reasons I like Marley so much... As grateful as I am for my upbringing, I feel much lighter when not everyone immediately associates me with my dad— or with what they have heard about my family. I don't know if that makes sense, but sometimes it makes me feel like I'm not even..."
"Your own person?" you finish softly, giving her an understanding nod.
Historia lets out a soft "mhm", her smile turning more lopsided. "Exactly.. Is that weird?"
"No, no, I get it," you reassure her. "But I guess you inherited a love for politics from your dad, given your major?" you add, earning a soft laugh from her.
"As much as I tried to be different, I can't help it. I do love politics. Can't deny that, and honestly, I don't regret it either." She absently toys with a strand of her long hair. "What about you? What's your major?"
"Psychology." You push the turn off button on your headphones, remembering how little they have left.
"Also imprinted by your parents or family?" Historia teases gently.
Biting your tongue, you pause for a momentt. "No."
A small voice in the back of your mind snickers, poking at your memories and whispering liar. But there's no way you're unloading all that on this poor girl you've only know for five minutes. "I guess I've just always been fascinated with how the brain works... what makes us tick. It's such a broad field, I like that."
While you quietly speak, Historia's eyes drift to your suitcase, lingering on the guitar case leaning against it. "You play the guitar?" Her brows lift with interest.
Relieved by the change in topic, you glance at your black guitar case, its surface covered in various stickers. "Yeah, it's my electric."
You reach out and trail your fingers over the stickers on the case, finding quiet comfort in the familiar textures. "I'm not even sure if I'm even gonna use it," you admit, pausing on a small, scratched Radiohead sticker. "I haven't played in a while.. but I figured I'd rather bring it, in case the urge hits me again someday."
You watch Historia's eyes light up as you speak, and she pulls out her phone again. "God, playing the guitar is so badass, especially the electric. I tried learning it when I was younger, but I didn't have the talent or patience for it. My girlfriend, Ymir, plays guitar too, and drums—well, mostly drums."
She flips her phone around to show you her lock screen. It's a photo of her smiling brightly at the camera, a tall, dark-haired girl wrapped around her, freckles scattered across her cheeks and a faint smirk tugging at her mouth.
At the sight, you can't help it but smile. "You two are really cute."
Historia opens her mouth to say reply, only to be cut off by the boarding announcement.
People around you begin gathering their things, phones in hand, bags slung over their shoulders. Including the loud girls from earlier, who still haven't managed to lower their voices.
Of course they're on that flight too. Perfect.
If they keep talking shit as loudly as they did the last half hour, you can't be held responsible if you accidentally strangle them. Especially now that your headphones are nearly dead.
"I guess we should get in line too." Historia stands up, sliding her bag over her shoulder.
"Yeah," you murmur in agreement, rising and grabbing your things, including the guitar case. But as you start forward, Historia touches your arm gently, stopping you.
"Y/N... if you want, we could stand behind each other in line. That way they'll assign us seats next to each other. Only if you want, of course— I don't wanna bother you or anything..."
You nod gently. "Yeah, I'd like that."
Together, you make your way to the front, where a stewardess is checking passports one by one. Chatting with Historia makes the wait pass quickly, and before long, the stewards offers a polite smile, wishing you a good flight as she hands you your boarding pass. As you step toward the plane, your eyes drift back to the kids by the window one last time. A brief bittersweet pang of guilt hits your heart, but it fades quickly, and you turn to follow Historia onboard.
Just as you'd hoped, you got seated next to each other. Historia insisted on taking the aisle, refusing your offer of the window seat no matter how many times you suggest it.
Even though you have just known her a short while, there is something rare about the energy she carries. The sweetness she radiates is effortless, like she's a ray of sunshine, streaming through a window you didn't even realize was open. She makes you feel at ease, her presence so comforting it almost feels like you can finally breathe.
Waiting for the plane to take off, she asked you more about your interest in music and your major, listening with genuinely curiosity. She shared a little about her own experiences at Marley State, stories you'd technically read about during your research, but hearing them from her gave them an entirely new life.
As she talked about her friends, you noticed the glow in her eyes, the way her whole face lit up. It's clear how deeply she adores them, how much she cares. You're certain they feel the same about her. How could they not?
Just as the engines begin to hum and the flight attendants give their final instructions, you realize with a quiet groan that your headphones have officially have finally gone silent.
Without a second thought, Historia dugs into her bag, pulling out hers and offering them to you. "I was just going to read anyway," She's already pulling a book from her tote.
Momentarily caught off guard by the kind gesture, you blink at her. Then you smile, a little fuller this time. Maybe this whole transfer thing won't be so scary after all, definitely less with people like Historia nearby.
[ 𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙥𝙡𝙖𝙮𝙞𝙣𝙜 - 𝙊𝙪𝙩𝙧𝙤 𝙗𝙮 𝙈83 ]
As soon as the plane begins to move, you restart your playlist. Leaning back in your seat, you turn your gaze toward the window. The low rumble of the aircraft accelerating fades into the background as M83 fills your ears. You glance over at Historia, and when she catches your eye, she gives you a small smile. Without hesitation, you return it.
Turning your attention back to the view outside, you watch as the plane shudders lightly and then lifts off the ground. In mere seconds, everything below shrinks until becomes indistinct. People, cars, houses. Paradis City fades into a tiny dot, swallowed by the expanse of the land around it.
You close your eyes for a moment, just to feel it. The distance. The way your chest eases. The subtle sting in your eyes. You can't remember the last time Paradis truly felt like home. Even in your apartment, with your mother nearby, you had felt far away. Like a hollow shell. Like your heart had already left.
Now that distance is tangible. With every passing second, the plane carries you further from it. You swallow the lump in your throat, the anxiety, the pain, and open your eyes again, fixing them on the endless sky stretching beyond the glass.
For the first time in your life, you're doing something only for yourself.
This isn't about anyone else. Not about putting others first, like you've always done, by instinct. Not about silencing your pwn wants or burying your dreams to clean up messes that weren't yours to begin with.
It took you far too long to give yourself this much. This moment, this choice, it's yours. And you're not going to let the past take it from you.
Not anymore.