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It's the first day of the semester and Ruby is horrifyingly late to class.
Technically, it wasn’t actually her fault that her first day at Beacon University started off so badly. There had been a power outage the night before, something about a car crashing into one of the main facilities that Beacon used for power. It was just bad luck that Ruby had an electric alarm clock, bad luck that she’d been too nervous to sleep properly the night before, bad luck that she’d woken up at noon—thirty minutes after her class was set to start.
She’s been waiting for the other shoe to drop. So far, everything that had happened since she graduated high school early had been the grace of sheer luck.
Ruby had been allowed to transfer to the ever illusive self-study program, set free from the ridicule and massive pain that had been high school, managing to do enough work to graduate a year earlier than she was supposed to. It had been the greatest gift the world had given her after everything that happened, the freedom to escape the small town hell that had been crammed down her throat since she was small—she even got to attend class with her sister!
(Which, honestly, wasn’t the coolest thing in the world—but Ruby loves Yang, even if she was the most embarrassing person on Earth. How she managed to score a girlfriend, a girl who was probably cooler than Ruby and Yang combined, was probably something she wasn’t ever going to know.)
But now, as Ruby hastily ties her shoelaces—silently mourning the fact that there would be no good morning pancakes—is the first time she allows herself to truly regret the fact that her luck had been so good.
Anxiety churns in her stomach as she makes her way out the door of her sister’s apartment, there was no way in hell that she was going to be able to go to this class in the future without feeling the ghost of her past embarrassment.
God, what would the professor say?
Yang was reassuring when it came to all the questions that Ruby had for her, but she was Yang—she wouldn’t know anxiety like this if it smashed her face in with a pole. There was no way the professors were as cool as she was making them out to be, Ruby would probably get that disappointed stare adults gave sad little teenagers like her when they were being sad and little.
It takes another ten minutes to get on campus, and then another five to actually find the class.
She pauses in front of the doorway, nervously grasping the straps of her bag—only for another girl to walk right past her and into the class, seemingly just as late as Ruby. Blinking for a moment, she hastily follows her inside, thanking whichever god might be listening that she didn’t have to walk in alone.
The professor pauses at the front of the class, watching them for a moment, before sighing and going to her desk. “Names please.”
“Weiss Schnee,” her voice is prim and proper, name given out with little more theatrics than Ruby would have expected—and then it sinks in what she had just said.
It was a split second, but it might as well have been an eternity. She knows that name. Knows it like the back of her own hand, knows it like she knows Yang, like she knows every nook and cranny of her favorite video game—Weiss Schnee.
Scrambling for a moment, she clears her throat and follows Weiss’s example. “Ruby Rose, Professor.”
The professor hums nonchalantly, gestures for them to take whichever seats, and then turns away from them and back to the rest of the class, continuing the lecture.
Oh God, Yang was right.
Ruby slinks into the back of the class, sitting down and trying to ignore the odd swooping in her stomach. At least nobody is looking at her anymore.
She can’t help but glance over at Weiss—sitting a couple rows ahead of her and dutifully listening as the professor speaks.
Ruby doesn’t know why she can’t look away, the swooping in her stomach settling to a light churn as she tries to fathom that someone she knows other than Yang is attending this school with her. Well, maybe knows would be pushing, really. It’s not like Ruby and Weiss had ever actually spoken to one another.
She was passive acquaintances with her brother though, both students in the self-study program and seeing each other when they dropped off their work. They’d never actually been friends, because it was impossible to make friends in the self-study office when a person was there only a couple of minutes once a week, but they had similar drop off times—ensuring that they always caught a glimpse of each other.
He would nod cordially, sometimes accompanied by one of his sisters (Weiss, more often than not, now that she thought about it) and she’d manage an awkward smile or wave and that would be all. Once, Whitley had even sat down next to her in the office as they waited for their assigned teachers, a quiet hello escaping his mouth and then nothing else.
(Ruby remembered these so vividly because they were the only times that she’d really talked to someone her own age, even if he was a year younger than she was.)
She shakes her head, as though the physical action would rid her of the bittersweet nostalgia, and tries to focus on the lecture that is probably more important than any weird feelings she might have about this. Ruby nods, turning to face the professor with determination, and tries to comprehend whatever the hell she was talking about.
(She’s only marginally successful.)
“Did you have a good class?” Yang asks her when she gets home, and Ruby is intimately aware of the way that her chest aches with both exhaustion and anxiety.
Her stomach churns, but she manages a smile—small, but still there. “It was pretty cool, actually,” she isn’t even lying about it, “my bio class was interesting, we learned how to use the microscopes.”
Yang nods thoughtfully, “Make any friends?”
Unbidden, the image of Weiss Schnee’s pale face flashes in her mind. “Not really.” She hesitates for a moment. “Weiss Schnee is in the bio class I just talked about.” She uses her full name because that’s how she always did in the rare moments Weiss was mentioned, too large and unfamiliar to call her much of anything else.
I saw Weiss Schnee at the grocery market today, she asked about you.
Weiss Schnee is here for that homework assignment you have.
Penny says Weiss Schnee’s brother is in her class—I didn’t know she had a brother.
Yang’s eyebrows raise, and for the first time since the conversation has started Ruby feels as though she finally has her sister's undivided attention. “No shit?” She considers her a moment, managing an easy-going smile as she gestures for Ruby to continue. “You talk to her?”
“Not really.” Ruby rubs at her arm, the admission sitting uncomfortably with her. She couldn’t be sure why, but something holds her back from thinking about Weiss too much... it was only a class, Ruby rationalizes. It wasn’t like they had to talk to each other... but it would be easier, wouldn’t it? “Did you know she went to Beacon?”
“Not really,” Yang admits with a shrug. “I thought she would’ve gone farther, what with that whole... mess.” Her sister laughs awkwardly.
Ruby doesn’t laugh, mostly because it isn’t funny.
Yang clears her throat, twitching. “Blake has a couple classes with her—says she’s nice enough. A bit of a perfectionist though, some things don’t change, I guess.”
Ruby hums.
“She doesn’t have many friends,” Yang continues leadingly, eyeing Ruby in a way that’s far too knowing for her liking.
“Maybe I’ll talk to her,” Ruby says lamely.
Yang smiles, satisfied, and changes the subject too quickly for Ruby to wonder if she was lying to herself or not.
She thinks about it later that night, lying in bed as music croons lethargically from her phone on the bedside table. How long had she known Weiss? She knew that Yang and her used to be pretty good friends, having a couple of the same teachers in elementary and middle school before growing apart in high school.
Ruby could count on one hand the number of times they’d actually spoken to each other—always seen as a friend’s younger sibling, nodding to each other and saying hello but nothing else. It was strange to think about how close their lives had been in the past and how they’d never actually intersected, their relationship filled with tiny moments of acknowledgment and nothing else.
What had Yang said? Weiss didn’t have many friends?
Why was that?
(Why didn’t Yang try and fix that? They knew each other better, after all.)
Ruby turns on her side, closing her eyes tightly and trying to ignore the odd feeling of... guilt? Remorse?
Something to that effect.
The routine for Ruby’s college life goes like this: homework, regular work, sleep, homework, class, regular work, sleep, class—with small intervals in between for cramming something into her mouth before she has to get to the next thing. It’s different than she expected in that she enjoys it somewhat—she gets to take classes she actually wanted to take, the professors are nice or at least decent, there’s a really good pizza place just across campus—the whole ‘freedom’ thing is a novel sensation that she didn’t realize she was going to enjoy until now.
It’s stressful though.
Like, beyond stressful.
It’s enough work that when her biology professor says that they can do the next project in a group or on their own, Ruby actually hesitates for a second.
(Let it be known, this is truly a painful moment of weakness for her, because the idea of talking to someone else for the first time is Ruby’s definition of hell—and oh no, she’s actually considering this isn’t she? God help her and whoever has the misfortune of being approached by her.)
She looks around for a moment, eyes drawn to the elegant ponytail a couple rows in front of her.
That... actually wasn’t a horrible idea.
Weiss Schnee was dutifully taking notes, pausing for a moment to glance back up at the instructor.
They knew each other, didn’t they? Sure, maybe their interactions were strictly limited to awkward glances or the occasional nod, but that counted as friendly enough to ask for help on something school related... right?
Ruby watches Weiss and thinks it odd how they’d never spoken to each other before—the girl in front of her, running long fingers through hair like powdered snow, chewing on the inside of her cheek as her eyes stayed fixed on the front of the class.
They knew each other in the way that everyone knew each other in the town they’d grown up in, seeing the other and their family at school, the grocery store, sports games—but not once had they ever exchanged an actual word. Ruby was sure that Weiss knew everything about what happened when it came to her parents, and vice versa. It had been all the town could talk about, Summer Rose dying and then Raven Branwen going missing—just like it had been all the town could talk about when Jacques Schnee was arrested for domestic violence and how Willow Schnee had locked herself away in that big old house for a decade afterward.
(Weiss probably knew all about how Ruby had stopped attending high school, desperately transferring to self-study after the god awful experience that was her freshman year—just like how Ruby knows how Weiss got that scar on her face.)
It was a special type of intimacy, Ruby thinks, to know someone's deepest secrets but not their favorite color.
It was also, she thinks again, a special kind of injustice.
Weiss twitches in her seat—jaw clenching, arms and shoulders stiff. She looks around the room for a moment, but doesn’t move to get up, and Ruby tries to think what Yang would do in this situation. Get up, obviously, maybe swagger up to Weiss’s desk and smile crookedly—toss her hair a little bit in that way that most people seemed to find charming for some reason. Ruby couldn’t really do any of that, but she could start by pushing her chair out.
(The first step is the hardest, but the moment that she does it she’s too anxious to do anything but follow through.)
She looks down at her hands.
...Yang said that Weiss didn’t have many friends, didn’t she?
A quiet resolve invigorates her in that moment, the sudden need to talk to Weiss too strong to even consider overcoming.
Who knows, Ruby sighs as she rises to her feet, maybe they’d be friends—or maybe at least Ruby would get her homework done with a little time left over to sit down and finish her latest Stardew Valley playthrough. That would be nice.
“Hi,” Ruby says, then falters. She didn’t think through what else she would do once she got to her, so she ends up standing awkwardly, twiddling her thumbs and shifting weight from one foot to the other.
Weiss pauses, shoulders stiff as she slowly turns to face her. Her eyes are pretty—the type of blue you find slathered across the sky, lending strength to icebergs, the color of the pale blue powerade from McDonald's—the only drink that Ruby can stand other than water or energy drinks. It’s difficult to look away from her suddenly, even as she smiles and pushes a single strand of hair away from her face, her face flushing prettily.
“Hello,” says Weiss, subdued but open enough, and Ruby’s smile turns just a little more genuine.
“Want to do the project with me?” Ruby asks. “I’m pants at public speaking, so maybe I can help with research and the presentation, and you can talk?”
Weiss considers her for a moment too long.
Ruby sweats.
“Alright.” Weiss nods her head, a curious expression on her face.
Ruby realizes that she’s seen that look before—the way her eyes find Ruby’s, the small uplift of her mouth and furrow of her brow, like she’s confused but doesn’t mind.
The memory hits her suddenly, sitting outside the office as Dad yells at the principal, poking the bruise on her cheek and wincing as she tries to rationalize what had happened to her—what the teachers had allowed the other students to do.
Weiss had walked by then—pausing.
Ruby had blinked sluggishly at her.
“One moment,” her voice had been soft, sympathetic. She’d disappeared in the room next to the office, coming back with something in her hands—wrapped in a paper towel. “Here, for your cheek—you don’t want it to swell.”
She’d taken it with some caution, but sighed with relief when she put it against her cheek. “Thank you.”
“Of course.” Weiss bowed her head, her smile going a little bit bitter. Her eyes had gone a little hazy, like she was thinking about something else—something sad or upsetting.
“Do you know first aid?” Ruby had blurted, and it had been a stupid question but she had been so absurdly thankful for the small action of kindness she’d wanted to pay it forward someway, anyway—even if it did come at the expense of her own pride.
Then Weiss had made that face, the corners of her mouth upturned and her brows furrowed, like she was confused by Ruby’s question but too polite to say anything about it, and nodded her head.
Dad had stormed out of the office just a second later, so it hadn’t mattered that Ruby embarrassed herself in front of a pretty girl, and she was transferred to self-study the next day. She’d forgotten the interaction over the hustle and bustle of getting used to her new school, so their lives had continued in paths that were directed away from one another. Ruby used to wonder what it would have been like if she stayed in school and talked to Weiss again, but ultimately decided it was a silly dream—nothing was worth what had happened.
Still.
Ruby manages a smile, “Thanks, Weiss.”
Weiss blinks, and the expression of polite confusion is reinforced once more, “Of course.”