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Chapter Text

"I'm sorry."

Pyrrha's lips were still tingling from her brief kiss with Jaune as she forced the broken elevator upwards with Polarity. She kept her eyes closed as she focused, with Milo and Akouo firmly held in her hands. With the element of surprise, Pyrrha would have only one shot at-

The elevator arrived, and she forced them open with her semblance, throwing Milo as she did so, followed by Akouo which Pyrrha used to block any attacks sent in her direction. 

Cinder, if Pyrrha remembered her name correctly, raised her arms to block Akouo as the Invincible Girl jumped in the opposite direction using her shield. She returned Milo and Akouo to her possession using polarity as she faced the Fall Maiden's murderer. Pyrrha narrowed her eyes as the False Maiden used her stolen powers to hover a few feet off of the ground. There wasn't any need for words, just action. 

Cinder's eyes lit up with the power of the maidens, and threw several blasts of energy towards her. Pyrrha charged forward, dodging each blast with practiced ease. She got too cocky, and was forced to raise Akouo to block the last stream of flames. The redhead used her aura enhanced strength to push toward, using Akouo to block the flames. Jumping in the air, Pyrrha swang Milo, only for the dark haired terrorist to grab her blade with her bare hand. 

Her green eyes widened as Cinder then struck her abdomen with a blast of energy, sending her flying in the air. Pyrrha barely had enough time to get back on her feet when the False maidened charged at her, an attack that the Invincible Girl dodged by flipping over the villain. 

Milo and Akouo were in Pyrrha's hands in just a second, which was just enough time to slam her shield into Cinder's body, and use Milo to attempt slicing through her aura. Cinder used her long legs to send a wheel of flames which sent Pyrrha back into the air. 

Using polarity to adjust her body, thanks to the metal in her armor, she threw Milo back at Cinder, her weapon transforming into a javelin midair. Cinder blocked Milo casually, but Akouo slamming into her right hand distracted Professor Ozpin's killer just long enough for Pyrrha to tackle her. 

Gritting her teeth as Cinder caused another explosion, Pyrrha recalled Milo and held the terrorist in a chokehold. It took all of Pyrrha's strength to hold her, even as Cinder took hold of Milo's blade. 

Suddenly, Pyrrha felt a wave of evil washing over her, forming goosebumps all over her skin. She looked out the window that was in front of her. 

The Dragon! It was headed straight towards her! 

Cinder snapped Milo in three using her heat and elbowed Pyrrha in the bosom, just as the Dragon shattered the windows and knocked the head of Beacon tower off. The former Mistralian champion was slammed into the remains of a pillar, her aura blocking any pain she may have felt. 

M-Milo had served her well, and Pyrrha could mourn the loss of her weapon once this was over. Crawlings towards Akouo as Cinder stared at her with a mocking smirk, Pyrrha glanced around her. The remains of the clock! They're made out of metal!   

"Yah!' Using polarity, Pyrrha slammed a piece of ruined metal into Cinder's aura protected body, and slid Akouo back into her hands. Cinder recovered quickly and started shooting rivers of fire again. 

Pyrrha dodged one, but reacted too slow against the second one which took out a chunk of her aura, slowly chipping away at it. She threw Akouo while using polarity to control the tons of metal around them. 

Cinder deflected Akouo with ease, until she noticed the floating remains of the clock around the duo. Slamming Akouo into the back of Cinder's knees, it returned to Pyrrha's hands as the heavy pieces of the clock slammed into the False Maiden, the one who had caused so much ruin and death. 

The metal flowed like water as it encased the evil woman, when suddenly, a burst of bright energy erupted from within. Pyrrha barely raises Akouo in time to block a chunk of molten metal, which roughly knocked her against ruined concrete. This time, she felt pain course through her body, her aura shattering. 

Pushing past the pain, Pyrrha jumped back onto her feet as Cinder formed a bow out of thin air. 

"Hyah!" Pyrrha threw Akouo with the rest of her strength. 

Time seemed to slow as it shattered the glass arrow, only for it to reform not even a second later. 

It struck her ankle, and with a cry of pain, the Invincible Girl fell to her knees. Wincing as she tried to stand, she fell onto her back when the arrow snapped while still being inside of her. The pain was unbearable, it felt as if someone lit her nerves on fire. 

"It's unfortunate that you were promised a power that was never truly yours." Cinder gloated, her glass heels clacking against the floor. Pyrrha didn't want the power, she was only doing her duty-

Cinder touched her chin and forced her to look up. "Take comfort in knowing that I will use it in ways that you can't even dream of." 

Pyrrha snapped her head away from the terrorist's hands, and glared at her. 

"Do you believe in destiny?" The words escaped Pyrrha's lips easily. She hoped that the rest of Team JNPR and even RWBY were doing better than she was. Destiny wasn't a predetermined fate that awaited all of them, it was a goal, a journey that would continue all their life. Their destinies would continue, even if Pyrrha's ended here. 

Jaune…I'm sorry….

"I do." Cinder spat, standing back to her full height, and formed another bow. Pyrrha refused to close her eyes and look away, meeting death head on. 

Cinder releases the arrow, piercing in between Pyrrha's bosom. Pain like Pyrrha had never felt before filled her nervous system. 

"Ah." Pyrrha struggled to breath, an uncomfortable warmth spreading throughout her body's insides. She started to choke, her once bright green eyes frozen in terror. "Ah…ah…"

The last thing she felt, was someone touching her forehead, and Pyrrha knew no more. 

The first thing Pyrrha saw was nothing, pure bright nothing. She quickly closed her eyes, an excruciating pain coming from her ankle, and the skin of her upper back rubbing against the soft bed? What? W-Was she alive? Did she survive? 

Groaning softly, Pyrrha could do nothing but lay there helplessly wherever she was. Her strength zapped, Pyrrha tried forcing herself into a sitting position, but failed, falling with her face aimed upwards. Her green eyes shot open. 

Cinder! Jaune! What happened?! 

"Jaune?" Pyrrha said, scanning the empty white room. Her leg was in a cast, and her chest felt itchy, as if something was wrapped around it. She was alone in the room, her only company being the machine that she was hooked up to which beeped every few seconds. She leaned back against her pillow, defeated. 

H-How was she still alive? What happened? 

A sob escaped Pyrrha's throat, she grabbed her face with her hands. She felt guilty, Pyrrha had failed all those who had died, all those who suffered in their final moments because of the selfishness of one woman. She wiped her tears with the back of her hand. 

Hopefully Jaune was ok, and the rest of her friends too. Were they here? Waiting for her to wake up? Suddenly, the door creaked open, and an extremely tall woman walked in. She wore a plain back tank top that revealed her well muscled arms, and her hair was long and blonde. 

"Haha! Glad to see that you're finally awake." The Tall Lady said, holding a small bag that was attached to a balloon that said, 'Get well soon'. 

"Hello there!" Pyrrha said, forcing as much cheer as she could into her voice. Her Mother always instilled being kind to others into Pyrrha's very soul. The strange woman didn't introduce herself as she approached the hospital bed. Pyrrha scratched the back of her head. "Um, who are you? And where am I?" 

Judging by the furniture, she must've been in some hospital in Vale, or maybe even one of those Atlesian Warships Jaune always spoke about when he played that one board game with Team RWBY. 

The Blonde only gave Pyrrha a grin that extended from cheek to cheek as she placed the small bag on the lone desk in the corner before finally taking a seat beside the bed. 

"It's great seeing you awake instead of bleeding to death in that dirty alleyway." The Blonde's grin never left her face. "And you're in the San Diego Medical center." She tilted her head. "Those villains must've put quite a number on you if you can't remember the city you're in." 

Pyrrha only offered her a sheepish smile. San Diego? Dirty alleyway? Bleeding to death? What was she talking about? 

The Woman stood up while giving Pyrrha a thumbs up, her grin still etched onto her face. "As for my name, it's Cathleen Bates, but you might better know me as Star and Stripe, the number one hero in the United States of America!" 

…….what? 

A/N

Happy one anniversary to Schnee: Hero or Huntress! The idea for this NON-CANON spinoff came after I wrote the Pyrrha omake. It will branch off from the main storyline right before Weiss attends UA, so while knowledge of Schnee: Hero or Huntress isn't needed, it would be helpful to read the first few arcs of it.

The plot will be similar in the beginning, but diverge greatly once it starts running. 

Updates for this will be infrequent when compared to the main story, but I will work on both stories. 

Welcome to Remnant's Finest!

Chapter Text

Pyrrha woke up early, like she always did ever since she woke up in this strange new world over a year ago. Going against most stereotypes, the redhead actually liked mornings. Most people were still asleep, trying to take advantage of all the precious minutes of rest, and it meant that there weren't many people out and about as Pyrrha went on her morning job through downtown New York City, the city that never sleeps. It felt different when she compared it to Los Angeles, like a completely different country. 

It was still crowded, but less so than normal. Pyrrha took a deep breath as she slowed her pace. Her red hoodie, a few shades darker than her hair, was still dry. If she was a normal person, Pyrrha was sure it would've been drenched in sweat by now. Aura could work wonders, Cathleen had said that plenty of times during their sparring session. 

"Hello there!" Pyrrha smiled at a random street performer getting set up in their spot, who stuck their extremely long head in between their legs in a surprising feat of flexibility. 

 "Morning!" They smiled back, almost losing their balance before catching themself. Pyrrha winced, but continued on her way once she was sure they weren't going to fall over. The other street performers were also getting ready for the wave of office workers and the few tourists that still arrived. 

Times square looked the same as it did over a hundred years ago, judging by the photos Pyrrha had seen in her workbooks, albiet with a modern redecoration. The dozens if not hundreds of screens still remained though. Pausing in front of a cafe, Pyrrha felt her stomach grumble. 

Hm, it was still a bit too early for her to eat breakfast, but aura did take up a lot of energy in order to maintain it. Very well then! 

Time to eat her five biscuits with orange juice! 

"Enjoy!" The nice cashier gave Pyrrha a grin. She smiled back as he handed her her change back along with the heavy bag full of food. Pyrrha had also decided to get Cathleen something to eat, since she was already out. 

"Thank you." Pyrrha said warmly. It felt nice, being able to walk around without anyone recognizing her and causing a big fuss. What did feel weird, was ending up at least three years younger, being just a little bit younger than Ruby when she first arrived on Earth. Heading towards a booth near one of the windows, Pyrrha planted herself in her seat, finally allowing herself to relax.

She pulled her first biscuit out of the bag. Normally, Pyrrha didn't eat greasy food, prefering salads, or simple boiled eggs, but that changed during her stay here. She wasn't the Invincible Girl, not anymore, she didn't have her family pushing her to become stronger, and she certainly didn't have her teachers from Sanctum present, the ones who pushed her to become one of the greatest huntress' that ever lived. 

Pyrrha took a large bite, savoring the oily sausage that assaulted her taste buds. Jaune would have liked it, he always did enjoy eating junk food, like the Pumpkin Pete cereal brand she had modeled for before. She missed everyone, Jaune, Ren, Nora and her other friends. Even Weiss who was a bit annoying and kind of a jerk at first. 

If only Jaune had paid more attention to Pyrrha instead of the gorgeous heiress. Shaking her head and those thoughts out of her mind, Pyrrha finished the last of her first biscuit. Unwrapping the second with praticed ease, her pocket started to vibrate. Pulling out her phone after wiping her hands with a napkin, Pyrrha answered the call. 

"Good morning, Cathleen!" Pyrrha said cheerfully. She quickly took a sip of her juice. "Did you finally decide to wake up?" 

"Morning, and it wasn't my choice." Cathleen sounded a tad bit annoyed. She had stayed up late the previous night ensuring that a group of villains stayed away from blowing up the Empire State building. "I got called in by the Chief, so I'l be gone most of the day." 

"Oh okay." Pyrrha was used to being alone. They both had full schedules, with Cathleen constantly being called away to handle emergencies, and her own studies. And it took a lot of studying just to be able to sign up for the Xavier Institutes entrance exam. "Will you be home by dinner?" 

"Not sure." Cathleen grunted. Was she already in the middle of a fight? While on the phone? A classic Star and Stripe move. "I'll call you when  I'm on my way back home." 

"Stay safe!" Her green eyes drifted towards the screens that played their different ads for luxury brands and whatever the latest craze was. It looked like Cathleen's breakfast was going to be Pyrrha's after-gym snack today. "And try not to break too many bones." 

I'm Queen of the Castle ! 

"No promises!" Pyrrha could practically hear Cathleen's grin from her side of the call. She hung up after saying her farewells, turning her attention back to your tasty breakfast. 

She had missed out a lot of things back on Remnant, tasty and greasy foods such as this, and having friends, at least until she arrived at Beacon. Those few months at the school for huntsmen and huntresses were the most fun Pyrrha had ever had. 

Pyrrha reached into her bag, only to grab several empty wrappers. Huh. She looked into the bag, only to see crumbs and wasted paper wrappers. She must've eaten them while she was buried in her thoughts, even Cathleen's portion was gone. How disappointing, but it was time to head back to the apartment, and then she had to go to the gym to practice her swordsmanship. It felt weird, without Milo and Akouo, but Pyrrha would have to make due for now. 

Getting up from her seat, something outside the window caught Pyrrha's eye. The screens had changed from some perfume ad, to one that had some rising singer. Pyrrha's eyes widened in shock, and her shaking hands accidently dropped the trash on the ground. 

Pyrrha knew that scar, she saw it almost every other day when Jaune had the rest of Team JNPR help him in some crazed plan to make a certain heiress fall in love with him. 

"Weiss!" 

A/N

I almost forgot this existed, so sorry this is late! 

Chapter Text

Pyrrha ran as fast as she could, and with her aura enhancing her body, she made it back home without much trouble. She could feel her heart beating as hard as the day she kissed Jaune, before she fought Cinder, before Pyrrha died. She wasn't alone anymore! Not that she was ever truly alone, she had Cathleen after all, but seeing an old friend from Remnant was an entirely different matter. 

Throwing herself onto her bed, the former Invincible Girl pulled her phone out of her pocket, her green eyes staring at its screen intently. Her eyes and mind weren't playing tricks on her right? This wasn't just a dream like those she had every night when she first arrived in this world? All those nights when she dreamed with Jaune, and finding her way back home thanks to some oddly specific quirk 

Pyrrha's fingers instantly typed Weiss Schnee into her search engine, just for the page to blow up with so many articles that there was no way she was going to be able to read them in one night. 

Pale beauty singing original song at Music Shop. 

Mysterious singer Weiss Schnee takes Japan by storm. 

German-Japanese idol Weiss Schnee to release her first album. 

First Japan and now the world, what's next for the Ice Queen? 

Weiss Schnee announces that her 'White' album will debut with her upcoming concert. 

Each word and picture lingered on Pyrrha's mind, her lips dry. There were plenty of photos that featured Weiss on the internet, from less than appropriate ones that looked photoshopped, to official photoshoots for some random magazines. There was only one single issue.  

The girl in all the photos was younger than the Weiss that Pyrrha knew, she looked even younger than Ruby in some of them, but that must've been thanks to her height. Weiss had never been the tallest of people, even with the heels and boots that she liked to wear. Back at Beacon, Pyrrha had towered over the Heiress, with or without her own heels. 

Back when Pyrrha was on the verge of truly finding happiness. There was little she could do to stop the smile that decided to etch itself onto her face. It felt nice, seeing a familiar face. Pyrrha kept scrolling, trying to find out as much as she could about her old friend, even if they hadn't been as close as the rest of team JNPR. 

She clicked on a video, the thumbnail having a picture of Weiss against a black background with a large smile. Weiss looked weird without her usual scowl, or smug smirk. 

" Hi everyone!" Weiss grinned as she spoke in English. She sounded as young as she looked. "Thank you all so much for all the support you have given to my Japanese songs, so as a gift, I'll be releasing my first song in English for free! It'll be available to download now ." 

Pyrrha's smile grew. It was weird seeing Weiss act all giddy, and not like an Ice Queen. 

" Now without further ado, I hope you're ready to shine." Weiss winked and grabbed a microphone that was offscreen. It looked like Myrtenaster's hilt. Her scar was still as prominent as ever, but it did little to detract from her beauty. 

"Baby! It's time to make up your mind." Weiss sang, standing up from her seat revealing the long blue skirt that matched her fluffy blouse. "I think that tonight is when our stars align." 

Pyrrha's eyes widened ever so slowly. She knew this song! She had practiced this song with the rest of her team for the Beacon Dance. Jaune had worn a dress after losing his bet against her. She had asked Ruby to ask Weiss if she could borrow one of the Heiress' songs, since Jaune looked like such a fan. 

The redhead's hands started to shake as she stared at her phone's screen. 

" Honey, it's time we leave the doubt behind!" 

It was hard to watch the video past the teardrops that blurred Pyrrha's vision. She missed Ren, she missed Nora, she missed Jaune. Pyrrha missed everyone. 

" Take my hand cause you and I are gonna shine!" 

Pyrrha cried for the first time in months. 

Pyrrha was so entrapped in watching videos, that she didn't notice the slamming of the doors to the apartment she shared with Cathleen. 

"Pieeeraaa? Are you home?" Cathleen's shout interrupted the former Invincible Girl's concentration. She tore her eyes away from her phone, which had long been connected to her charger. It would've died on her hours ago if she hadn't thought of that. "I brought pizza!" 

"Hello Cathleen!" Pyrrha croaked loudly. She coughed into her fist, clearing her throat. "Hello Cathleen!!" That was much better. 

The door to Pyrrha's room creaked just enough for Cathleen to stick her head through the opening. Pyrrha raised her head from her spot on her bed. 

"There you are! You had me worried for a second, since you never go out late and all that." Cathleen grinned. "I know it's sacrilegious, but I brought Detroit pizza since I was in the area and-uh-why are you crying? Are you okay?" She opened the door all the way, using her quirk to squeeze her body through the much smaller door. 

Pyrrha nodded slowly and rubbed her bloodshot eyes. They felt moist and crusty at the same time. She sat up, letting her overheated phone have a much needed break, for now.  "I'm fine, just…surprised."  

Cathleen took a seat next to her, and placed a large hand on Pyrrha's shoulder. "What's wrong?" 

"I'm not the only one stuck here." Pyrrha's voice cracked near the end. It still felt like a dream at times. 

Cathleen's face lit up. "You mean someone from your world found you?! That's amazing!" She shot up from the bed. "Forget the pizza, we'll have Chinese to celebrate!" 

Pyrrha shook her head and stood up to catch Cathleen's attention. "I found her online." 

"Really? Where?" Cathleen scratched the side of her head with a single finger. 

Pyrrha took a deep breath and pulled Cathleen into a tight hug. 

"Japan." 

A/N

Sorry this took so long! 

Chapter Text

Pyrrha woke up early the next morning, earlier than usual, before even the sun had finished rising. The streets of New York were still dark, silent save for the occasional car horn echoing between sleeping buildings. She sat at the edge of her bed with the same tense energy she used to feel before a tournament match. Pyrrha barely slept at all.

Weiss Schnee was here. Not in the same city, not even in the same country, but she was here. On Earth, singing songs Pyrrha remembered from Beacon, and wearing clothes tailored like she used to wear. She was still scarred and graceful.

She was still Weiss.

Pyrrha clutched her phone in both hands, the screen open to the same fanpage she’d fallen asleep to. A thousand fan posts, hundreds of photos, links to concerts, stylized animations, and dozens of captions written in too many languages for her to understand, but none of them told her what she needed to know.

No agency address, no contact email, no personal account. Just a wall of curated content and glittering PR that made the white-haired girl look more like a legend than someone real.

Pyrrha stared at the only tag that might lead her somewhere, @OfficialSchneeMusic. Her thumbs hovered over the keyboard for several minutes. She had fought Grimm that moved faster than this.

Hello Weiss. It’s Pyrrha Nikos. I don’t know if you remember me, but we went to Beacon together. I’m here too. Please respond.

She read it again, and again, then deleted it.

She sounded too desperate. 

She tried again.

Hey Weiss. I saw your performance, it was beautiful. I’m glad you’re doing okay.

No. Too impersonal. It sounded like she was a fan and not a long lost friend, not someone who’d fought and bled and died for the same world.

Weiss. It’s Pyrrha. From Beacon .

Pyrrha stared at that one the longest. Her fingers hovered over the send button. Just three short sentences, short enough to be ignored. Short enough to disappear into the ocean of comments and digital noise, but also short enough to maybe get through. If Weiss saw it, if she remembered, if she believed.

Send .

Pyrrha's heart dropped the moment her finger tapped the screen. She stared, waiting for a sign. A notification, a read receipt, anything.

Nothing.

She refreshed the page and waited and waited even longer.

The post disappeared into the void.

She tried again later that day, this time messaging every official-looking email address listed under Weiss’s music label. All of her messages bounced.

Blocked domains. Auto-responses only. This inbox is not monitored. 

Even when she tried sending a message through a fan site’s “ submit your letter to Weiss!” page, it redirected her to a payment portal. A letter would be printed on decorative card stock, for a small fee of $39.99.

“Of course.” Pyrrha whispered, bitterly amused.

Pyrrha even downloaded a social media app that Cathleen had sworn was “ what all the kids are using,” despite her own account having zero posts. She tried tagging Weiss there too.

Still nothing. Pyrrha’s notifications were drowned under algorithmic sludge and aggressive sponsorships for skincare products she didn’t use.

She tried watching more live concert videos that night, hoping Weiss would say something, mention anything, anything from Beacon.

But Weiss never did. She talked about studio lights, about writing music, about Tokyo and train rides and how much she loved ice cream.

Not a single word about Dust, or swords, or about the sister.

Nor anyone from her past.

Pyrrha closed her laptop at midnight and leaned back against her pillow, her red hoodie still wrapped around her like armor. The videos had blurred together, dozens of Weiss’, all smiling into cameras, all laughing, all just a little too bright. A little too clean.

It was like she had scrubbed Remnant off her skin.

“I don’t get it.” Pyrrha said aloud, even though no one was around to hear her. “Why won’t you answer me?”

The question wasn’t angry. Just, small, it made her feel small. Like a little girl waiting at the wrong train station for a ride that would never come. She pulled her legs close to her chest, tucking her chin down. It was easier than sitting up straight, easier than being hopeful.

Maybe Weiss didn’t remember her, or maybe she was trying to move on. Maybe she’d changed in this world too, perhaps the Weiss on stage, surrounded by lights and fans and magazines, really was someone else now.

Someone who had buried the past.

Pyrrha closed her eyes and breathed through her nose. She wasn’t going to give up.

But she did cry again, quietly, this time, without the strength to stop it.

The smell of Chinese takeout drifted through the apartment, heavy with the scent of fried rice, dumplings, and sweet and sour chicken. Cathleen whistled to herself as she nudged the door open with her shoulder, her arms full with two overloaded paper bags and a six-pack of imported soda. She didn’t usually go all out, but this was a special case.

She still hadn’t stopped smiling since last night.

“Pyrrha?” She called, toeing off her boots by the door. “I brought dumplings and egg rolls and get this, deep fried cheesecake. You really can fry anything!”

Still no answer.

Cathleen frowned slightly. She had expected an eager shout from the bedroom, maybe the sound of someone tripping over herself trying to get to the kitchen. Not silence.

She carried the bags into the kitchen, unloading their contents with practiced ease. “Hey, Kid?” She tried again, softer this time.

Still nothing.

Something was wrong.

Cathleen crossed the apartment in three long strides, gently tapping her knuckles against Pyrrha’s door. “You good?”

“...I’m fine.” Was the reply, it wasn’t even a lie. Not really, but it wasn’t the voice of someone who was fine, either.

Cathleen opened the door anyway.

Pyrrha sat at the edge of her bed, still dressed in the same hoodie from the night before. Her hair was tied back in a loose ponytail that had mostly come undone. She was clutching her phone like it was a lifeline, but the screen was dark.

She didn’t look up.

Cathleen shut the door behind her and leaned against it, arms crossed. 

“So,” She said casually, “you wanna tell me what’s got your soul halfway sucked out your nose, or do I have to guess?”

Pyrrha didn’t laugh, she didn’t even crack a smile.

That was when Cathleen dropped the humor.

She crossed the room and sat beside her, slow and careful, like approaching a wounded animal.

“Talk to me Piera.” Cathleen gave her a small smile. 

Pyrrha’s voice cracked when she finally spoke. “She didn’t answer.”

Cathleen waited.

“I tried everything! Her agency, her website, social media. I even paid some guy online twenty dollars to forward a message.” A weak, bitter laugh escaped her lips. “Guess what happened?”

Cathleen blinked. “Let me guess. He blocked you?”

“He sent me a picture of his cat wearing a hat and then disappeared.” Pyrrha released a sigh. 

Cathleen exhaled through her nose. “God, people are garbage.”

“I don’t get it.” Pyrrha whispered. Her voice was small again, fragile in a way that had nothing to do with her age. “Why wouldn’t she answer? Doesn’t she remember me?”

“I’d remember you,” Cathleen said, without a beat of hesitation.

Pyrrha looked at her, surprised.

Cathleen shrugged. “You made a mark on my life in less than a year, Pyrrha. If this Weiss person spent even half the time with you you’ve told me about, she remembers. Maybe she just hasn’t seen your messages? She does have thousands of fans.” 

“But if she did see it, then why-” Pyrrha started, her thoughts dark. 

“Because people deal with pain in different ways.” Cathleen’s voice was steady, heavy with something more serious than her usual bluster. “Some people face it head-on, like you. Some people charge into a burning building, and others? They shut everything out, they move on because it hurts too much to look back.”

Pyrrha looked down at her lap. “But I don’t want to be forgotten.”

“You’re not.” Cathleen bumped the redhead’s shoulder with her own. 

“I just thought…” Pyrrha trailed off, holding back tears again. “I thought maybe if I could see her, if she remembered Beacon, or Jaune, or even just one song, I’d know I wasn’t alone.”

Cathleen’s hand came down gently on her shoulder. It was a big hand, warm, solid, the kind that made Pyrrha feel small but safe.

“You’re not alone,” Cathleen said. “You’ve got me, and I’m not going anywhere.”

Pyrrha let out a breath that shuddered as it left her lips. “I know.”

Cathleen gave her a moment to breathe, then added, “Now, I brought enough Chinese food to kill a mid-sized villain. You’re gonna help me make a dent in it, or I swear to God I’m calling in backup.”

Pyrrha smiled, small, but real. “You mean the backup that got beat up by three drunk college kids last week?”

“They were in sports jackets, Pyrrha. That’s like armor for frat boys. Totally unfair.” Cathleen teased. 

She laughed then, a real laugh and not one of those fake ones Pyrrha used when she was uncomfortable. It was short and weak and a little teary, but it was real.

Cathleen stood up and offered her a hand. “Come on, food now. Existential dread later. We’ll keep trying until this Weiss girl answers, or we’ll go to Japan ourselves!”

Pyrrha took her hand with a small smile.  “Thanks, Cathleen.”

“Don’t thank me yet.” The World’s Strongest Woman said with a grin. “You haven’t tried the cheesecake.”

A/N

Sorry this took too long! I'm on a roll with all these story updates

Chapter Text

The sunlight filtered through the blinds, catching on the strands of Pyrrha’s hair and scattering gold across the wall. It was soft, weak light, the kind that gently nudged instead of demanded. For once, Pyrrha didn’t wake before it came out.Her body ached in that odd, restless way that came after a night of no physical training, but emotional exhaustion. Her muscles were fine, but her soul wasn’t.

She sat up slowly, rubbing her eyes. They were still puffy. She hadn’t cried that hard in months. Maybe a year, but she didn’t regret it. Her therapist taught her that. 

The apartment was silent, with the only sounds being the distant hum of morning traffic and the soft buzz of the refrigerator. Cathleen’s bedroom door was closed, but a note was taped to the outside of the fridge in bright red sharpie:

Kick fate in the ass. Go find your girl. – C.

Pyrrha smiled, clutching the note in one hand as she leaned her forehead against the fridge door. It was dumb and corny. Exactly the kind of thing Cathleen would say, but it made the ache in her chest lighten, even if just a little.

She moved slowly through her morning routine. Washed her face, hanged into a clean hoodie and leggings, and made herself green tea instead of coffee. She stood on the balcony, cup warm in her hands, and watched the sunrise behind the New York skyline. It was beautiful in a way completely different from Mistral or Vale, harder, sharper, and more honest.

It felt real now that Weiss was here. Alive, singing and breathing.

Pyrrha had heard her voice. Not in a dream or a hallucination. Her actual voice, which meant one thing above all else.

She can be reached.

Pyrrha set her cup down and moved to her laptop. It whirred to life beneath her fingers, and she didn’t waste time going to the same fan page she had scrolled through the night before. The information had changed little, but now she looked with purpose.

She needed schedules, tour dates and physical locations.

The internet flooded her with information, Weiss was currently on tour in Japan. Tokyo, then Osaka, followed by Seoul, then a brief break before Europe.

Pyrrha clicked through a few more pages. Tokyo was nine days from now, in an open-air venue downtown. And it was already sold out, but Pyrrha didn’t care.

“If I wait too long, I’ll miss her again.” Pyrrha murmured as she pulled out a notepad and started writing, her own Mistral shorthand mixed with English. Flights, concert location, US dollar to Japanese Yen conversion, hotel prices, and train lines. It was thrilling and terrifying all at once. Like preparing for a mission again, only this time she wasn’t hunting grimm. She was chasing a ghost from her past.

Pyrrha paused when her pen hovered over the words Xavier entrance exam . Her acceptance packet was still on the desk, waiting for a signature and final placement. The exams were in eleven days.

She could go to Japan, she could find Weiss, but there was no guarantee Weiss would see her, or even want to. And if she missed the entrance date, there was no make-up exam. She’d have to wait another year before getting another chance. 

Pyrrha stared at the packet for a long time. She reached for it, fingers brushing the corner, then pulled back.

Weiss was part of the old world, but so was she. 

She opened her phone and pressed the speed dial button she’d assigned to Cathleen months ago.

It rang twice.

“ Yo !” Cathleen answered, breathless and loud, with the roar of wind in the background. “ Make it quick, I’m currently dangling from a helicopter.”

“Are you-what?!” Pyrrha’s eyes widened. 

“It’s fine, the guy’s quirk is wind-based, so I’m letting him think he has the advantage. Spoiler alert, he doesn’t. What’s up?” Cathleen sounded cheerful as always. 

Pyrrha hesitated. “I want to go to Japan.”

A pause, then the winds picked up. “For a vacation or for a Weiss?”

“For Weiss. I think I can find her. She’s performing in Tokyo in nine days.”

Another pause. The wind stopped. “You’re sure about this?”

“No,” Pyrrha admitted after what felt like an eternity. “But I need to try.”

“That’s all I needed to hear. Do it Piera!”

“I might miss the entrance exams,” Pyrrha said, her voice soft and low. “I might have to wait a whole year to enroll.”

Cathleen grunted. “So what? You’re not racing anyone. If this is what your heart’s telling you to do, you follow it.”

“But what if she doesn’t remember me?” That doubt plagued the back of her mind. 

Cathleen didn’t hesitate. “Then you remind her. You remind her what kind of girl cries over breakfast and fried cheesecake because she still cares that much.”

Pyrrha exhaled slowly. “Thank you.”

“Hey, don’t get sappy on me. Go get your girl, Nikos. I’ll cover things here.” There was a burst of static and then a scream. “Gotta go! Bad guy’s back!” The line cut out.

Pyrrha closed her eyes and smiled.

Cathleen was such a good friend. 

Booking the flight was easy. Expensive, but easy. Cathleen had insisted she keep the emergency fund they'd built up “in case Pyrrha needed to run,” and it was finally time to use it for something other than buying a new phone charger after stepping on it.

Pyrrha chose the earliest direct flight she could afford, departing in three days. The moment she hit confirm, her hands started shaking.

She wasn't scared of flying, or fighting. And at least Japanese was the same as Mistralian, so the language side of the trip would be fine. 

Pyrrha was scared of seeing Weiss again and not being seen in return.

The next evening, Pyrrha was in her room, folding her clothes into neat stacks for the fifth time not because they needed folding, but because her hands needed something to do.

Out in the living room, Cathleen was on her fourth phone call in as many hours.

“No, I don’t need backstage passes.” She said into her headset, tone tight with restrained irritation. “I’m not asking for a favor. I’m asking if anyone in the Japanese Hero Public Safety Commission has a direct contact for Weiss Schnee’s agency.”

Pyrrha sat still and quiet, ears tilted toward the living room. Cathleen had been trying all day, emails, old favors, calls to international liaisons. At one point, she even dug out a wrinkled business card from an old coat labeled Endeavor’s U.S. Visit and tried calling the number on the back. It had gone straight to voicemail.

“Yes, I know she’s a celebrity. I know she’s not a villain, thank you. I’m trying to help a friend reconnect with someone who might be the last living soul from her world.” A pause. “...No, I’m not being metaphorical.”

There was another long silence before Cathleen sighed heavily and hung up.

Cathleen stood in the middle of the living room for a long second, staring at her phone like she wanted to throw it. Then she walked to the fridge, opened the freezer, and retrieved the pint of chocolate ice cream she’d labeled DO NOT EAT UNLESS EXISTENTIAL CRISIS.

The label was now scratched out with a Sharpie and rewritten as SCREW THE SYSTEM.

Pyrrha finally stepped out of her room, revealing herself. “No luck?”

Cathleen looked up, spoon already in her mouth. “They shut me down faster than a rookie sidekick trying to apply for solo license.” She pulled out the spoon. “You’d think being the number one hero in America would count for something, right?”

“Is it because of me?” Pyrrha asked softly.

“No, Kid. It’s because the whole damn world runs on image control and press access. They treat Weiss like she’s made of gold and stardust and million-dollar sponsors. You can’t get near her without getting trampled by agents, contracts, and a legal department with more fangs than a shark grimm.” Cathleen complained as she stuffed her mouth with ice cream. 

Pyrrha smiled faintly at the comparison.

Cathleen slammed the freezer shut and leaned against the counter. “I called some friends in Tokyo. One of them’s a support tech for Kamui Woods. Said the security detail around her venue is tighter than the vault under the UN building. Apparently some weirdo tried to rush the stage last year thinking Weiss was the reincarnation of a snow goddess.”

“She might be,” Pyrrha offered, not entirely joking.

Cathleen grinned. “Wouldn’t surprise me.”

A pause.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t get you anything.”

“You tried,” Pyrrha said, stepping forward and placing a hand on Cathleen’s forearm. “That’s more than I ever expected. This isn’t your burden to carry.”

“Maybe not.” Cathleen scooped another bite of ice cream. “But you’re mine, Pyrrha. And if I could’ve cleared a path for you, I would’ve.”

That settled into Pyrrha’s chest like a weight—but not the kind that crushed. The kind that grounded.

“Besides,” Cathleen said, licking the spoon dramatically, “I have full confidence in you being able to sneak into a backstage area if it comes down to it. That polite, Mistralian charm of yours is way more dangerous than anything I can throw.”

“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,” Pyrrha murmured, though her lips curved in amusement.

Cathleen reached into the cabinet above the fridge and pulled out a sleek, unmarked envelope. “That said, here, just in case.” She handed it to Pyrrha. “Cash, burner phone, basic credentials, and contact info for a hero I trust in Osaka. If something goes sideways, call him and say ‘Liberty Bell’ to let him know I sent you.” 

“Liberty Bell?” Pyrrha blinked. “That’s your safe word?”

Cathleen gave her a grin, her teeth stained with chocolate.“No, it’s the code word. My safe word is ‘pomegranate.’ Don’t ask.”

Pyrrha didn’t, she just pulled her into a hug.

She spent the next afternoon preparing. Her suitcase wasn’t big, and her wardrobe was simple. Comfortable travel clothes, two dresses, training gear, and her practice sword. She hesitated at the last one.

It wasn’t Milo, not even close. The balance was off, the blade too modern, but it was the only weapon she had, and after everything she’d lost, it was a piece of who she was now.

She wrapped it carefully in its case and laid it on top.

There was one more item to pack.

A worn photo, the colors slightly faded. Team JNPR and Team RWBY at Beacon, grinning like idiots during the festival prep. Jaune with marker on his face, Ruby mid-bounce, Ren glaring sideways at Nora, Weiss, arms crossed but smiling ever so slightly, and Pyrrha, front and center.

She tucked it into the front pouch of her bag and zipped it closed.

The days passed slowly.

Pyrrha stayed busy, running errands, cooking meals, organizing her notes. Cathleen was in and out of the apartment like a whirlwind, always with a new story of some half-baked villain or chaotic rescue. Cathleen didn’t ask more questions, she just supported and encouraged her.

The night before the flight, Cathleen cooked for once, and burnt the edges. Pyrrha didn’t say a word.

“You ready?” Cathleen asked as they sat on the couch, a movie playing in the background neither was watching.

Pyrrha nodded. “As much as I can be.”

Cathleen studied her for a long moment. “No matter what happens, you’ve already won, you know that?”

“I haven’t even seen her yet.”

“Exactly. And you’re still doing it.”

The next morning, Pyrrha stood inside of JFK International Airport, her hood pulled up, and her suitcase by her side. Her passport had been a nightmare to get months ago, but Cathleen knew people. The plane would board in thirty minutes.

She scrolled through her playlist, pausing on a familiar title.

Shine by Weiss Schnee

Pyrrha slipped her headphones on and pressed play.The song filled her ears as the gate attendant called her boarding group. Pyrrha stood, adjusted her hoodie, and took one last glance at the terminal.

Then she walked toward the gate.

 " I’m coming, Weiss."

A/N

Whaaaat? Another update so fast? Who am I?

Chapter Text

The hum of the plane was a steady, low vibration that filled the cabin like a second heartbeat. Pyrrha sat by the window with her hood pulled up, and her knees drawn close enough that her heels barely touched the floor. The seatbelt bit lightly into her waist, but she didn’t adjust it. Pyrrha barely noticed it. Outside, the world was darkness and stars, nothing but an endless velvet sky stretched over the ocean.

Pyrrha shifted in her seat, pulling her hoodie even tighter around her. The plane's recycled air was cold, almost sterile, but it wasn’t the chill that made her shiver.

It was her nerves, anticipation and fear.

She stared down at her phone, resting in her lap, the cracked screen protector still smeared with fingerprints from all the times she’d scrolled through Weiss’s concert footage that had been downloaded before the flight. The song was paused mid-chorus.

Shine .

Pyrrha closed her eyes and leaned her forehead against the cool plastic of the window. She tried to let the familiar melody replay in her mind without needing the phone.

Baby, it’s time to make up your mind!

The lyrics floated like smoke behind her closed lids, and before she knew it, she was drifting off to sleep. 

The walls of Beacon’s courtyard were beautiful, all green grass and stone archways. The sun felt warm on Pyrrha’s skin.

She was seventeen again, older than her new body, sitting under the giant oak tree in the training yard, her legs stretched out and a history book forgotten beside her.

Ren and Nora were tossing a practice hammer back and forth while Yang cheered them on. Blake watched them with mild amusement, and Jaune was sitting cross-legged a few feet away, hopelessly tangled in a mess of fishing wire and a grappling hook.

And Weiss.

Weiss was standing at the far edge of the courtyard, arms crossed, one eyebrow arched high as she gave Jaune a look of pure disdain.

"You’re doing it wrong.” Weiss said, exasperated. “You’re lucky Ruby asked me to help you! Otherwise I’d let you drown!” 

“I’m improvising!” Jaune called back defensively, struggling as the wire looped itself around his ankles.

Pyrrha laughed, an honest, clear sound that echoed off the stone walls, and felt Weiss’s eyes flicker toward her for a moment.

A smile tugged at the corner of Weiss’s mouth. 

It was tiny and barely there.

But it was real.

Pyrrha woke with a jolt as the plane shuddered lightly from turbulence. Her heart pounded against her ribs, breath caught between memory and reality. For a long moment, she sat frozen, her hand clenched tightly around her phone.

It waa all gone. 

Beacon was gone, Ren, Nora, and Jaune were all gone.

Weiss might be the last piece of that world still left breathing. Pyrrha swallowed the lump rising in her throat. She forced herself to sit up straighter, glancing around. Most of the other passengers were asleep or dozing, and the flight attendants moved quietly up and down the aisles, checking seat belts and offering glasses of water.

Time passed in thick, heavy minutes.

Pyrrha tried to sleep again but couldn't. Her legs itched to move, to fight, to do something, but there were no Grimm to fight here. No enemies, just a girl chasing down a ghost on the other side of the world.

She settled for pulling out her small, battered notebook. Pages and pages of Valish shorthand and sketches of Mistral’s landscapes filled it.

At the back, she scribbled down a new plan.

1. Land at Narita Airport.

2. Find her hotel.

3. Find venue.

4. Find Weiss.

It was simple and straightforward. A list she could control, even if nothing else felt stable.

By the time the pilot’s voice crackled over the intercom announcing their descent into Tokyo, Pyrrha’s hand ached from gripping her pen too hard.

Her arrival was a blur.

Customs, baggage claim and security checks. A line of tired travelers dragging suitcases behind them like ghosts.

Tokyo's Narita Airport was massive, bright, and filled with a million tiny sounds Pyrrha wasn't used to anymore, mechanical ding of announcements, the soft shuffle of feet, and the melodic chirp of vending machines every few feet. It felt more intense than New York. 

Signs in English and Japanese lined the walls, pointing to exits, train lines, taxis. She didn’t even have to think to understand them, Mistralian and Japanese used the same script. That at least was familiar.

Pyrrha shouldered her bag and stepped into the arrivals hall.

The noise hit her like a tidal wave. A wall of sound, chattering voices, luggage wheels clattering, vendors shouting cheerful greetings to customers, and a chorus of musical jingles blaring from the shopping kiosks nearby.

It was overwhelming and she was tired. 

Pyrrha stood still for a moment, breathing carefully. Mistral’s cities were crowded too, but they were open, green, sprawling. This was vertical, layered, alive in a way that felt chaotic.

Her stomach growled loudly, reminding her she hadn’t eaten since the stale sandwich Cathleen had insisted she take before leaving New York.

“First the hotel and then food.” Pyrrha muttered to herself in Japanese, already adjusting slowly. She weaved through the crowd, clutching the printout of her hotel reservation tightly in one hand.

The taxi ride was another exercise in sensory overload.

Neon signs buzzed overhead. Massive skyscrapers crowded out the sky, and crowds flowed like rivers at every intersection. Billboards played video advertisements on giant screens mounted across buildings, some featuring heroes she didn't recognize, others showing trendy singers and actors.

And then, at a red light, the cab slowed outside a massive shopping center.

The entire wall was a digital billboard. A looping advertisement played with someone familiar. Weiss, dressed in a shimmering white and blue gown, spinning across a snowy stage.

White Album Release, Shine Bright with Us!

Pyrrha pressed her palm against the cab window without thinking.

It was her.

The scar was visible even beneath the layers of makeup and careful lighting, but no one else seemed to notice it. Maybe they thought it was part of her aesthetic, a flaw that made her more real. It made her more marketable, but she knew better. Weiss was always proud of her scar. 

The cabbie muttered something about traffic and moved on before she could even take a picture, but it didn’t matter.

Pyrrha had seen her.

Her hotel was tiny, smaller than her bedroom back in New York, but it was clean, warm, and private. Pyrrha dropped her suitcase onto the side of the narrow bed and sat on the edge, breathing hard like she had just finished a tournament match.

Tomorrow was the concert.

Tomorrow she would try to find a way to meet Weiss. 

Pyrrha pulled the worn photo from her bag and placed it on the nightstand, right beside her phone. She didn't pray anymore, not really, but she closed her eyes and whispered to the silence anyway. If the Two Brothers existed here, she hoped they listened to her. 

“Please remember me.” Pyrrha whispered as she allowed herself to fall backwards onto the bed. She left the room light on and curled beneath the thin covers, letting the exhaustion finally pull her under.

Tomorrow would be a long day. 

A/N

Reunion soon!