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Chapter Text

It was Monday, 7am sharp as Mikasa Ackerman thudded down the hallway, her heavy boots hitting the fabric covered stone with each step. She had a letter in hand, headed to her co-worker, Historia Reiss’ room. They all shared a house. Well. More of a small mansion really. All of the assassins, trained and ready to go. Erwin Smith ran the place. And Mikasa was one of the best. Not the best though.

That title belonged to Ms Reiss herself. A small, 4”9 blonde girl. She donned big blue eyes and a smile that could melt hearts. However she could wield a knife as well as a butcher of 100 years. She was sat currently, on her bed reading. She didn’t have time for phones, for social media. No, she wasn’t allowed. The only phone she was ever allowed was a disposable one at Erwin’s request.

Mikasa knocked twice before pushing the door open. “Historia?” she hummed, moving into the room and holding out the note to her. She hadn’t read it. It was classified, and Mikasa was extremely obedient. Erwin’s helldog. Historia took it and looked upon Erwin’s neat handwriting.

‘My office, 9am. No earlier, no later.’

Historia looked up at Mikasa, soft pink lips moving up in a crescent. "Thanks Mika," she said and stood, screwing up and chucking the ball of paper in the bin. "I got it," she said and watched the raven haired girl nod and leave her room. And so with that, Historia began to get ready.

Her uniform was simple. A latex pair of leggings with a tight fitting latex corset, nimble enough for her to manoeuvre in, but tight enough as to not cause her to be spotted. She tied her hair loosely in a ponytail behind her and tugged on, lacing up her tight, black boots which had no heel of course. Historia specialised in acrobatics and gymnastics. It was her trait. She was quick, hard to hit. She could climb into small spaces, get out of sticky situations quickly.

Her favourite weapon was a milky pink butterfly knife which she often played with, the quick handles flicking around her fingers and spinning in the air. She had cut many throats with the tool, and severed many organs in its time. It was hard to believe, but she hated that. She hated killing. But she wouldn't ever express that. It was her job. Just keep your mouth shut and get the job done. Simple.


8:59am rolled around, and so Historia kicked into gear, heading towards Erwin's office. By the time she skipped, probably cartwheeled a few times down the corridor, she reached the man's office, rapping on the door with her frail knuckles. From inside, a booming males voice called her in. Behind the desk was a man, gelled blonde hair to the left, piercing blue eyes, and a stature of 6"2. He looked intimidating. No, is intimidating. But Historia wasn't scared. He had brought her up from a mere baby. Raising her as one of his pawns.

She waited obediently until he beckoned her forward with his forefinger, making her look down at some documents he pushed forward for her. "Reiner Braun," he began, pointing at a picture of the male. He had short blonde hair, and hazel eyes it seemed. It was hard to tell. It was a CCTV screenshot from a mall. He was beefy, his body mass being her first worry. He looked 6"1, maybe 2 and his muscles the size of marrows.

"Works for someone. We don't know who yet. 20 years old, 6"2 and is seen regularly at a gym in the town. Its directed behind the run down pizza restaurant. No one goes there, but him." Erwin sat up in his chair, looking at Historia. Her face was stoic, except a small hint of determination.
"Okay. What...? Do you want me to follow him?" the girl asked, addressing her boss with a formal stance, arms behind her back respectively.

Erwin nodded once.
"Yes. And then kill. Make it fast, Reiss. We can't have this guy getting an advantage. He's dangerous. Heavily armed. We need to find out the place where he gets his orders. Get his phone, his wallet. Anything you can to find the bastard who owns Braun."

Historia saluted, their business' own special type of salute. Her fist pressed to her chest and she furrowed her brows. "Yes, sir. I won't let you down."

— ♡ —

Reiner was in the gym as of now, lifting a weight to his chest. He curled his bicep in, feeling the beads of sweat trickle down his forehead and drip down onto the floor around him. One drop on his shoe. He drops the weight carefully onto the floor beside him and grabbed the towel, rubbing it over his face and hair to rid himself of sweat. The man had been in there since midday, just working out. Zeke had everyone else on jobs, so he had a free day. And what better way than to spend it doing hard labour.

He was enjoying his time of peace, that was until he felt his phone buzz. Now, unlike Historia, Reiner had a phone. A smartphone. He swiped his pattern in, and unlocked the screen, looking at a text that had come through.

'Stay put I'm on my way to you now'.

Reiner sighed nasally, shoving his phone back into his pocket and standing up. He looked over at the clock which read 6:26 on it. By half past, Bertolt should have arrived. By the text, he already assumed he had been assigned a job. And a tough one by that. Bertolt wouldn't usually give a heads up about arriving, he would just swing by. But no. Zeke seems to mean business this time.


And as expected, Bertolt came through the double doors of the gym, holding a big duffle bag. He looked over at his blonde friend, dropping the bag carefully on the table. Reiner came over and crossed his arms over his big, broad chest. "Got everything I need?" he asked, watching his brunette friend unzip the duffle bag and behind to unpack all the guns he had stocked.

"Everything I could gather," Bertolt says, assembling a Glock. It was golden. Pure gold. It had a beautiful engraving of vines wrapping up the barrel and stopping with a scalloped edge. The handle was black, matte black, all topped off with golden bullets. Someone would complain it was a waste of solid gold. Reiner would reply he was a man of style. Of quality.

Reiner sifted through the array of guns Bertolt had set on the table for him, palms pressed on the table for balance as his eyes drifted. His brows furrowed, lowering over his honey eyes. An amber to match his gun. "Where's my sniper, Bert?" he asked in a hum. He would want everything. Reiner hated being without something he needed. The taller male beside him swallowed thickly, his skin starting to glisten with anxious sweat. He cleared his throat.

"Uhm. Sorry, I think it's in use. Annie was sent out today and –"
"Save it," he growled, pushing up from the table with his golden Glock, closing one eye and looking down the barrel, aiming. He lowered it and turned back to the duffle bag. He tugged out a piece of torn parchment paper that Zeke had wrote the details of the hit on.

Krista Lenz. Age 18. 4"9.
And stapled to the parchment was a pathetic print out of a CCTV screenshot, a small blonde girl walking down the street. Later that day, she assassinated a fellow hitman.

— ♡ —

Unknown to Bertolt and Reiner, the 4”9 girl had already set out on her journey. She wore a baggy sweater over her uniform, as well as a pair of basic cotton leggings. Her boots were hidden by winter boots, making her look like a basic teenage girl. As she turned the corner to the pizza place that wasn’t in use anymore, she ditched her clothing, put them in a plastic bag and his them behind a dumpster bin.

And then, she was off. She lifted the grate to the sewer systems, and slipped inside, moving quietly and swiftly so that she didn’t have to bare the sickening smell of the sewers. She leapt from pipe to pipe, and then.. finally.. she reached the entrance to the gyms sewers. Historia clawed her way up, pushing the grate lid up and to the side as silently as she could before hopping out and returning it. The girl wore latex gloves. Had to. Tight fitting, concealing and leaves no fingerprints. Perfect.

She had came out in the shower room, and so she followed the simple route through the locker rooms and to the front, main area of the whole place. In there was two men. A tall, maybe 6”4 man with brown hair, and beside him, with a gun in his hand was a man, 6”2 in height and short blonde hair. The hit.
Historia stayed crouched behind a glass door. The lights were off, and so it gave her perfect coverage as she assessed the man, making sure it was 100% her target.

Bertolt sighed. He dug the palms of his hands into his eyes and rubbed, shrugging off his jacket and draping it over the back of the chair. “I’m off now, then. My jobs done. Might as well workout I guess?” the man laughed briefly and leaned to flick the lights on to the locker rooms. And so.

Her shadow cast across the laminate floors of the gym.

A small girl.
Wearing all black.

Reiner turned to look at the source of the shadow, raising a brow. “Bertolt.. Get a gun,” he ordered, standing upright.

Historia gasped, falling back onto her ass and scrambling into the nearest room to her left. A storeroom. A gym storeroom which had a huge stack of blue gym mats in there. The blonde was just small enough to slide behind the back of them, biting her tongue and waiting to see if they go past. She reached into her thigh holster, taking out three throwing knives and positioning them between her thin fingers.


Reiner grabbed Bertolt’s forearm and shoved him in the direction of the storeroom. Bert entered, raising his pistol, and as he was about to aim at the girl who showed herself, all Reiner could see was the man slamming backwards, his back hitting the wall and sliding down. He was dead.

Three knives were stuck in him.
One in the shoulder.

One in the chest.

And a bullseye. Right in the centre of his forehead.

Chapter Text

Historia took her chance, and as soon as Reiner was stunned by the sight of his best friend, bleeding and limp, she darted out like a fox, flipping effortlessly across the gym, keeping close to the wall and behind some equipment. Reiner began his shots, sending some her way, but none hitting. She finally perched behind a large machine, crouching to avoid injury.


Reiner wasn’t stupid. He knew getting close was his main issue. If he were to get near, she could easily jump him, stab him, throw a knife. So instead, he thought. Her main source of survival was running. She moved. He aimed his gun up, firing a gun straight into the lightbulb which cast darkness over the room: thank you winter weather.


Historia looked around her as it turned dark, worry truly setting in. This bastard knew what he was doing. She felt along the wall behind her, feeling for any fire alarm, or any kind of light. Instead she found a rope. Reiner, too, had found himself stuck. He wasn’t exactly able to see in the dark –


Historia had began to climb, and was now on the ceiling. She was using the climbing ropes to her advantage, cross climbing overhead. She was moving blindly, counting on the sounds of Reiner’s footsteps to find him. She stayed high, stayed quiet. Until another shot was let off. Suddenly, a loud blaring of sorts, as well as a bright flash of red splashed over the room.


He had shot the fucking doors out. The police would be signalled, and she’d be caught.


The water sprinklers were also set off, coating the ropes which she relied on with a slimy, gluey substance. Her hands were wet, slick. And she began to slip. Her grip gave way and she squealed as she fell, back hitting the floor. The wind was surged out of her, making her gasp and cross her arms over her chest.


Reiner had seen the blue flashes amongst the red in the room, and it was evident the police had been despatched, and was now here. Probably an attempted robbery. Shots were fired, which makes the police believe anything.


The blonde had seen Reiner was wearing no gloves, and was now running, scrambling to collect his guns off the table. She managed to pull herself to her feet and limp to the window, looking over at Reiner. The front ways were blocked off by cops, as well as the back.

She had to sigh.

The man was cornered, pulling his jacket over his head and face to shield his identity from the police. Historia bit her lip, hard. If he was caught, he could give them away. Both of them. Erwin’s business would be in jeopardy, and no one would be safe.


Finally, she whistled. It was a piercing whistle which made Reiner look over at her.

“Come on, go!”

She turned to the window, kicking it out with her boot.

“Get the fuck outta here!” she barked, leaving no time before getting out herself and climbing down the drainpipe. For a gym, it was odd that it had 3 or 4 floors. But she wasn’t complaining. This gave her advantage.


Reiner didn’t have to be told twice. He moved over to the shattered window and climbed out, recklessly falling and landing with minor injury. Whereas, Historia leaped down gracefully, landing with no issue. She looked behind her at Reiner, watching as the man aimed at her.


But he didn’t shoot.


He just.. watched her. She blinked a few times before the sirens threw her out of her daze and she began a sprint to the next building, slipping down an alleyway.

“Don’t you forget this, little one!” he called, hearing his voice echo down the small side street she was in. It boomed around her.

“I’ll find you!”
“Kill you!”


Historia had managed to scale an apartment complex, sitting on top of the 7 story building and looking down. She was honestly scanning for Reiner. He wouldn’t make a choice that dumb, would he? She shook her head, pulling back the latex on her corset to see her chest was red, from where she struggled to breathe. She clicked her tongue.


Erwin was right. He was dangerous.

She felt her stomach tighten at the thought. A proper target, not one of those easy ones. This would need planning, and frankly, she didn’t have time. The girl took out her disposable phone and pulled up Erwin’s contact.


‘will need a few days, 4 at most. – h’


She sat back on her ankles, watching the city retire for the night.

Considering that danger which laced the world, it was beautiful. Cruel, but beautiful. The lights lit up the place, dotting about like fireflies, illuminating the population.

Historia smiled.




Reiner had already made it into the depths of the city, pulling his car up to the house which sat on the corner of a tidy street. A cute little dollhouse excuse of a home. Perfect garden, perfect house. He turned off the engine and stepped out, the door already opening.


“Reinerrrr!” a familiar voice bubbled, seeing Sasha dart out and practically tackle the damn car. He got out of the car and shut, locking it. He made sure his Glock was tucked tightly away in the glovebox.

“Jeez, Sasha,” the man hummed, looking down at the excitable brunette who was now hugging his waist. Connie emerged too, smiling.

“Nice to see you, man,” he said, heading over and patting his friend on the back.


“Yeah, I missed you guys,” he admitted, walking with them into their house. It smelt amazing ~

Like freshly baked goods, vanilla, ginger.. all that stuff.


Reiner sat on their couch, watching as Sasha bounced away into the kitchen, and Connie sat beside him.

“So Reiner,” he started, looking at the blonde. “We haven’t seen you in ages, the Hell you been dude?” He was genuinely happy to see his childhood best friend. Reiner shrugged.

“Working, mainly.”


His false occupation was a private trainer, for a gym. But of course he wasn’t. He only went to the desolate gym which was now the grave of his best friend, and a pile of rubble. He felt his heart tug, wanting to make some sort of form of sadness. He didn’t allow it.


Sasha returned with a whole tray of food, placing it in Reiner’s lap. It was a baked potato, with a side of salad, ham slices and a choice of 3 sauces. He sat, blinking and staring at the meal. How the fuck did she do it?


He looked up at Sasha, clearing his throat.

“Uh, thanks.. Sash,” he said, chuckling a little. He dug right into it though, the food comforting his hurting body, and his heart. He was glad to be here, in a space which was safe.


The three spoke amongst themselves, for around an hour. The TV was on in the background, and it cast a homely glow over them all.

Sasha’s phone dinged, and she raised a brow. “Oh jeez..” she murmured.


Connie looked over at Sasha.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, leaning to look at her phone. He furrowed his brows.

“She’s been attacked,” she said, standing and pressing the call button. Sasha moved out of the room to go talk to her friend, leaving Reiner to talk to Connie.


“Who’s that?” he asked quietly, as to not disturb the phone call. Connie sighed.

“A friend of a friend. She’s helped us out before in the past. I think she’s been in an altercation, because she lost her ride and she’s hurt. She might stay here for tonight, is that okay?’ Connie explained.


Reiner wasn’t exactly fond of the idea of sharing his safe haven with another stranger, but it wasn’t his call. And it wasn’t like he had anywhere else to go except Liberio. But fuck, that was a 6 hour ride away, he didn’t have time. Especially when the target was in the area.

Sasha emerged from the other room, putting her phone into her pocket.


“She’s on her way. I’m sure you’ll love her! She’s is a gem!” Sasha beamed at Reiner and sat beside Connie, eating a hot dog she got from the fridge whilst in the kitchen. Connie put his arm on the back of the sofa around Sasha and nodded.


Reiner wasn’t sold. But what could he do?


“Alright then ~ I’ll go and freshen up,” he suggested, standing and heading to the guest bedroom which he’d be staying in. Perfect. Two single beds in the room. So he’d have to share a room with the girl too. He brushed off his worries and headed into the shower.




The warm water helped to relieve Reiner’s stress. With each hit of the water, his anxiety left his body, and he felt his whole mind-set loosen. Maybe he was open to having a girl share a room with him, perhaps he could even make a friend. He rubbed his hands through his hair, the shampoo washing out. He grabbed a towel from the rack and wrapped it around his waist, heading out into the bedroom.


It seemed the girl had arrived. Her belongings were on the bed. Not much, only a hairbrush, a pair of winter boots and a bag. He didn’t invade though, so he didn’t look in the bag.


Once he got changed into a sports tank top and joggers, he returned to the living room, wiping the towel from his face before throwing it into the basket and looking at the sofa.


And sat on the sofa was a blonde girl. Maybe 4”9. Big blue eyes.

Chapter Text

Reiner was frozen, staring at the female before him, and he clearly wasn’t crazy as she was staring right back at him. She too, was incredibly shaken. The man she was trying to kill. Here. In this place.

She snapped her gaze away, looking at Sasha. “You didn’t tell me the person sharing was this good looking,” Historia smiled and a laugh came out from Sasha.

“They’d make a sweet couple, right Connie?!” Sasha teased and he replied with a quick shake of his head, not to tease two strangers who are essentially meeting for the first time.

“I’m sure.. only time can tell,” Historia smirked up at Reiner who was still stood completely in shock.

He finally managed to compose himself, and he cleared his throat. “Its lovely to meet you,” he said quietly, quieter than he had hoped to say. He lingered in the doorway, shirtless still.

She raised a brow.

“I'm Historia Reiss,” she said, revealing her real name. It wasn’t as if it mattered. He would be dead soon anyway.

"Reiner Braun.." he uttered.

“Hey,” he spoke up. “I’m sorting sleeping arrangements. Do you mind?” he asked the blonde, gesturing to the bedroom with a nod of his head.

She jumped up from the sofa, smiling sweetly. She had put on this fake voice, sweet and high pitched. It knocked him fucking sick.

The two acted civil, walking together to the shared bedroom, and as soon as they entered, and shut the door, Historia was pinned to the wall, his forearm pushed against her neck, as she had brought her butterfly knife up to his neck.

“You see this?” Reiner hummed in her ear, meaning the knife. “This will be... the first and LAST time this will ever be up to my neck again,” he growled, tone threatening and serious.

Historia forced his arm away from her, flipping the blade around in her fingers. It was quite satisfying to watch, really, despite her using it as her murder weapon.

“Fuckin’ animal.. Who do you work for?” she asked, voice low again. Not that she’d expect him to tell her of course. And he didn’t.

“The better question is, why the fuck were you sent? You’re so small. LOOK at you. And puny.” He pressed a hard shove to her, causing her to fall back on the bed.

Her blue eyes were now dark, brows furrowed down over them.
“Hey, fuck you!” she hissed, moving back on the bed to where the pillow is. “As if I chose to do this! You don’t think I’m wishing to be in a bubble bath right now?”

Reiner pinched the bridge of his nose.
“Sasha and Connie,” he said, not looking at Historia. She didn’t need an explanation as to why he said their names. It was basic. They had no idea about the two being hitmen, of course. So if they were to casually stroll in for a morning wake up call, they’d see one or the other dead in their bed.

They didn’t need that.

“Fine. But I swear... If you come near me.. So much as LOOK my way. I won’t hesitate,” she warned him, pointing to the living room to make him leave. She wanted privacy to change for bed.


Night time was here now and Sasha and Connie were pretty zonked. They told Reiner to lock up when he decides to go to bed, and so he did. He made sure the ‘perimeter was clear' so to say and headed to the spare room.

The little blonde was tucked up in bed with a book she had pulled from the bag. It was the same one as what she was reading in her room, when Mikasa delivered the note.

She merely glanced up to look at Reiner before immediately focusing on the page again. “Nice to see Connie and Sasha are still alive,” he teased her, letting his large body collapse on the adjacent bed.

Historia grimaced and bookmarked the book before tucking it away in her bag again. “Do you maybe want to sleep before I induce it?”

He shook his head, unbelievable that he had to put up with this. He took off his watch and rubbed his wrist, placing it on the pillow.

“See this?”
Historia looked at the watch.
“This is a Rolex.. Took it from a guy I whacked in a political party, I don’t remember his name.”

Historia had already lost a lot of interest. He didn’t even remember the names of the people he’s killed. She sighed softly, scratching her head. She was tired.

“You ever kept a souvenir?” he asked, knowing he was touching on a sensitive subject.

She shook her head, staying quiet. What a fucking question. He was obviously very mentally poorly.


“Yeah,” she answered finally. Reiner raised a brow, egging her to continue.
“A Jaguar.. I killed them, and took their car.”

Reiner was amused, a smirk on his lips. “Yeah, then where it is now? Didn’t you, like, run here?”

Historia had had enough of the conversation and rolled onto her side, bundling the covers up and around her body. It shielded her from the brute in the room, and the cold. Natures brute.
“Totaled it,” she said simply. “On the first corner that I passed.”

The man barked out a laugh and too rolled onto his side. He heard the jingle in his pocket, reminding him of his own car keys. He took them out of his pocket and stuffed them under his pillow.


And after a while of tossing and turning, the pair managed to fall asleep.
Reiner managed eventually, and was totally conked out. Historia, however, was restless. Every 20 – 40 minutes, she'd wake up. It was probably the fear of him ending her life while she was unconscious. She'd never see it coming.

But every time she woke up, he’d be in the same position, snoring softly.

The blonde silently tugged the bag out from under the bed and pulled out her latex uniform. She got changed, making sure it was smooth and presentable – even if the goal was to not be seen – and was about to leave the room.

Before she did though, she looked over at Reiner. She moved over slowly, quietly and loomed over his sleeping body.

Her hand slid on the mattress, moving to his head. However, it took a detour and slipped under the pillow. Historia quickly retracted her hand, pulling the keys with her.

A smirk appeared on her lips, and so she left.

But upon leaving, she didn’t even realise she had left her prize possession on the bed. Her blade.
Historia scribbled a quick note for Sasha and Connie thanking them for the stay, and she got her cousin to pick her up and take her home.

She left the beautiful house which she slept in, and walked out to the car in front. It was a black Mustang, matte radiator, matte logo. Fancy schmancy.
Historia unlocked the car with a double beep of the vehicle and slipped into the drivers seat. There were so many buttons to press ~ She pushed one, making the heaters start up, and the seats start to warm.

She pressed one button, making the entire car start to blare. An alarm – !
Historia quickly turned the engine on, and that’s when she saw the bedroom light turn on, the one she was staying in. The girl fiddled around, trying to figure out a way to make it move, finally pressing the handbrake down.
Soon, the car jerked forward a couple of times before swiftly moving forward, and fast.

It was exhilarating.

Not that she knew how to drive, of course. She had no clue. But what she did know, was that when she stopped the car a few miles away, she found the golden gun in the glovebox. It was heavy.

She could barely keep it lifted. She even dared trying to pull the trigger, but the safety was on. But God. It was so damn heavy.


Dawn broke, and it was the new morning.

Reiner was in Sasha and Connie’s kitchen. He knew where his car had gone, not literally, but he knew who the fuck took it. But that didn’t matter, she’d be back.

When an item is sentimental, a person would sacrifice a lot to get it back, and he had a sneaking suspicion that Historia was one of those people.

And so he ate breakfast in peace that day, no Historia Reiss, or Krista Lenz, or whatever the fuck she was called.
He smiled to himself as he chomped down on a piece of toast.