Vampire Fetish (Yumikuri)

15. Mirrors

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By mid-afternoon, they reached Maria. Historia expected to be hit with a wave of longing - this was her home, after all - but felt nothing but the same hollow, scared feeling she'd been having all day.

Bertholt parked in the underground carpark of some big-name hotel, and booked two rooms. He made sure that the front desk knew they needed no maid service, and that they were not to be disturbed under any circumstances. Reiner winked at the receptionist, as if to get the point across.

They didn't end up using their room for the implied purpose, nor did they use the second room. They all sat in one room, sitting around awkwardly. At least, Historia was awkward. Reiner was leaning on Bertholt's shoulder, eyes trained on whatever daytime soapie was playing. Historia tried to do the same, but couldn't concentrate on it. 

"So what now?" Historia asked, her voice quiet. 

"We wait until we get a call," Bertholt answered. 

Hours passed. Occasionally one of them would go and get Historia food from the vending machine in the corridor, but she barely ate any of it. She was too anxious.

She was curled up in the armchair, scrolling through Instagram when Reiner had another vision.

"She just changed course," he said. "Irine. She knows she's been tricked, she's angry, she's going... to a mirror. A room of mirrors."

""A room of mirrors?"" Bertholt grabbed a pen and the notepad on the room's coffee table. "What do you mean, show us."

Reiner sketched out an image of a room with mirrors on each wall. It looked like the ballet studio she'd gone to when she took ballet as a kid. 

"I thought Irine was staying in Paradis," Historia said. 

"The visions are-"

"Subjective, I know, I'm sorry. So why is Irine going to the ballet studio?"

The vampires looked up at her.

"You've been here?" Reiner asked.

"Yeah, my mother forced me to take lessons when I was little," Historia said. "Does that mean Irine is coming here?"

A phone buzzed. Bertholt pulled his out of his pocket, and put it on speakerphone.

"Irine's changed course," Ymir said, breathlessly. "Mom's gone to track down Jakob, Annie's making sure Uri's safe. Is Historia with you?"

"Yeah, I'll put you on." Bertholt handed the phone to Historia.

"Ymir, are you alright?"

"I'm fine, I'm coming to get you. I'm going to make sure you're alright," Ymir said. "I love you."

"I love you too," Historia said, but the call ended before she could finish. She handed it back to Bertholt.

"I thought you should know that the phone was still on speaker," Bertholt whispered. "So um, we could hear everything."

Historia didn't even care. She grabbed her bag. "When do we leave?"

"When we've checked out," Bertholt said. He pulled Reiner along behind him. "You wait up here. We'll come and get you."

And they closed the door behind them, locking it as they went.

Historia should be safe in the hotel room. She wasn't sure how the semantics of the "can't enter without an invitation" worked, but Reiner had assured her that technically the room was theirs until they booked out of it. 

Historia's phone started ringing. She answered it.

"Hello? Historia, are you okay? I just got a call from dad, he said Uri said you'd left Paradis? Are you alright?" 

"Frieda," Historia said. "I'm fine. I'm with friends. We're on a... weekend trip."

"Christa, you scared the hell out of us," Frieda said. "I thought something had-"

A thumping noise could be heard, and Frieda stopped talking.

"Frieda?" Historia asked. "Are you there? Did something happen?"

A new voice joined the conversation. "Paradis high doesn't lock up its students' records very well," Irine said. "Jakob found out that your sister goes to law school near where you live."

"Leave her alone," Historia said, panicking. "Don't hurt her, leave her out of this."

"Oh, I won't hurt her," Irine said. "Provided you come and meet me. How about an exchange?"

Historia's heart raced. "Okay."

She could almost see Irine smile on the other end of the phone. "We'll meet at your old dance studio. That sounds good, doesn't it? Oh, and don't try bringing any of your friends. I'll know if you do."

Irine hung up, and Historia flew out of the room. She climbed down the stairs two at a time, and sneaked through the lobby. Bertholt and Reiner were still at the receptionist's desk, and she felt a wave of guilt wash over her. She couldn't do this. It would kill them, and Ymir- she didn't want to think about that.

So she left the hotel. 

She had to save Frieda. Frieda was her family, the mother she'd never had; it was Frieda who had taught her how to read, had taught her colours and numbers and morals. All of her fond childhood memories in some way involved her half sister. Historia didn't want Frieda to die because of her. And besides, the Fritzes would be alright. They'd move on. Historia was just a novelty in their afterlives, just some human whose mind couldn't be read. She was sure that some other blank slate would come about one day. Her friends at school would be alright too. She'd only known them for a few weeks, they'd get over her death.

Her death.

Historia wasn't sure she wanted to die. She made jokes, but seriously? She was scared. But she wouldn't be missed. And she was okay with that, if it meant saving her sister.