Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

FOLLOW ALONG WITH THE FULLY-CASTED AUDIO DRAMATIZATION, NARRATED BY YOURS TRULY:

“I did this. The White Fang is here because of me. So, I have to be the one to stop them.”

It was strange, hearing her own voice echoing in her mind, watching the scene unfold as if from far away – watching Yang pat the desk, beckoning for Blake to sit, too. There was a kind of heaviness in the air, somehow devoid of gloom – instead, the rays of the setting sun were shining through the tall windows and bathing the lecture hall in dusty yellows and oranges.

It was silent. So silent.

Blake was both there and not – both standing in front of her partner but also floating from above like a ghostly spectator. Yang’s lilac irises kept shimmering, but the memory was off-kilter, trying to focus on different parts of her face – her mouth, her cheeks, her brows.

“But you have us, now, Blake. Don’t run yourself into the ground.”

Something cracked. Tilted. It felt like it could have been Blake’s heart, but it might have been the entirety of Beacon Academy, too. Had the windows always been so broken? But then she realized she was speaking again, saying something she’d either said two years ago or maybe even in some other life. “You have nothing to do with this. It’s not your responsibility.”

Yang shifted on the professor’s desk, and Blake was staring at her eyes again. Blond eyelashes slowly blinked over striking violets and mauves. “Let me tell you a story, then.”

But before Yang could start telling that story – a story about recklessly going out in the woods in search of her biological mother, if Blake remembered correctly – a rumble in the distance started up. It quickly got louder and louder, but Yang wasn’t even reacting. It was as if she had become frozen in time, she was so still.

Frustration, regret lingering there in her eyes.

“What’s your story, Yang?”

An urging whisper. If only to get her talking again. Moving. Anything.

Blake knew exactly what was coming.

But her voice hadn’t come from her mouth.

She was frozen in time, too.

And then the rumbling became an explosive roar, and the entire room caught fire. The windows shattered and the air filled with black smoke. Flames engulfed the floor, the walls, crackling up the curtains, devouring the tiered-seating benches. Parts of the ceiling collapsed.

Blake was sucked back into her body with a gasp, and the clock started up again. Panicked, she immediately searched for Yang – she wasn’t on the desk anymore. The faunus pivoted from one side to the other, then jumped over some rubble, avoiding a crashed pillar...but almost ran straight into a beowulf after landing. It growled and swiped at her, and she dodged out of the way. She clenched her fist, felt Gambol Shroud suddenly in her grip.

Instinct took over.

Blake cleaved the Grimm in two at the chest, and it evaporated into a mist the same color as the smoke.

Heart pounding now, Blake called out hoarsely, “Yang!”

But with the beowulf out of the way, Blake didn’t have to look much longer.

There, a little further ahead of Blake, was Yang, lying on the broken floor through the debris, and standing above her with his red sword ready to slice down –

“Blake, wake up. Wakey, wakey, Blakey.”

Blake startled awake, immediately sitting upright in her chair, but warm and gentle hands on her shoulders kept her from standing and lashing out.

One of the hands was metal.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. I think you were having a bad dream.” The hands left her shoulders.

Blake groaned and angled her torso around. Yang was there, looking sheepish. She massaged the back of her neck and gave Blake a half concerned, half encouraging look. Only Yang could pull that strange combination off so well.

Blake’s heartbeat continued to palpitate, but reality slowly came back to her. She turned back towards the desk she was sitting at, finding her crumpled homework paper in front of her history book. It appeared she’d fallen asleep while trying to complete it. The rays of the sun were still brightly shining in through the window facing her, so there couldn’t have been that much time that had elapsed since her eyes had closed, but the patch of sunlight certainly explained why she’d passed out so fast.

She frowned and looked at Yang again. “Yes...I was. About, um,” Blake’s eyes gravitated to Yang’s right arm, glancing only briefly at the bicep, knowing exactly where flesh stopped and where metal started under the light leather jacket the blonde was wearing. “Sorry. Thank you for waking me up.”

Yang’s expression fell. She glanced at her right bicep, too, eyebrows creased.

Before she could say anything, Blake murmured, “Weiss and Ruby are coming.” She could hear them arguing about training or weapons or something further down the hall thanks to her cat ears – even if they were covered by a bow still.

“Oh.” Yang’s shoulders drooped before immediately straightening, and Blake watched the practiced mask of carefreeness slide onto her partner’s face. “Thanks for warning me.”

The door opened and Ruby strode in with Weiss. Ruby was shrugging hard while being in the middle of a complaint, “...practice my hand-to-hand when I have Crescent Rose?”

“I feel like you, of all people, would know why,” Weiss muttered, putting her study books away while Ruby hopped onto Yang’s bed.

Blake watched her partner’s face brighten up even more, all hints of vulnerability gone. Yang put one hand on her hip and turned to face her sister and Weiss. “Can’t believe I’m saying this, but if Weiss is telling you to put in more effort in learning how to fight without your weapon, I agree with her!”

“Was that really necessary?”

Ruby fell backwards on Yang’s bed with a huff, Weiss immediately ignored. “Okay, but what are my fists gonna do against, like, a deathstalker? I don’t have guns on them like you do, Yang.” And then, before anyone could reply, Ruby sat up again with purpose and hammered in her point, “I’m literally a Grimm killing machine with my scythe, and it’s not like I haven’t been practicing my hand-to-hand at all. I know enough to pass!”

“Yeah, and Weiss is practically untouchable with her glyphs, but you don’t see her dragging her feet to her daily butt-whoopin’.”

“Ughhhh,” Ruby groaned.

“Why do you have to make it sound like that?” Weiss grumbled, taking out one of her classes reading books – the same history book Blake currently had in front of her – and settling down at her own desk with it.

“Just saying it like it is,” Yang giggled. “Anyway!” She motioned at the window with her hand, getting ready to change the subject. “It’s a beautiful day outside. We should enjoy the weekend and go to the beach!”

Several pairs of eyes widened, for several very different reasons. Ruby, who had barely just sat down, jumped off Yang’s bunk and exclaimed, “Yeah, great idea! We’ve already gotten some of our work done, we can continue tomorrow or something.”

“I’m not sure we can afford to do that with the end of the year coming up in two months,” Weiss rebutted, although she looked outside, past Blake, like her words were halfhearted. It really was a nice day outside.

And Blake hadn’t returned to her own schoolwork since Ruby and Weiss had walked into their shared dorm room – when all three other girls were there, it was nearly impossible to concentrate. But Blake had still been fairly entertained by their bickering back and forth. And Yang’s idea was kind of tempting, too. Blake imagined herself laying in the sun, continuing her history paper for a while before falling asleep again to the sound of the waves crashing. It was almost perfect.

…And also unrealistic. Her friends would try to get her to play or take a swim with them first. And that was…a lot less tempting.

“Aww, c’mon, Weiss,” Yang insisted with a knowing smirk, because she knew she’d already won, “our grades are already through the roof. I’m gonna go see if JNPR wants to join!”

And, with that, Yang left the room without waiting for a response.

Blake shared glances with Weiss and Ruby, and then Ruby zoomed over to the dresser on hers and Weiss’ side of the room. “Get ready, you two. Or else we’re leaving you all by yourselves in your party pooper, uhr, party!”

This time, Blake had to smile a bit. With an affectionate shake of her head, she stood from her chair, raising her hands high for a languid stretch. “We might as well go, Weiss.”

Weiss only closed her history book and sighed.

There were a lot of people at the beach. RWBY and JNPR still found a spot with a couple vacant beach umbrellas and loungers to set up at, but Blake was already somewhat regretting her decision. She did not like crowds, and the entertained screaming of children and adults alike while they had fun was not part of the calming ambience she’d anticipated. Her friends were already quite the loud and excitable bunch when they were all together as it was, and today wasn’t an exception.

“Slather me, Ren!” Nora demanded, arms extended and…eyes closed.

Ren glanced nervously at everyone else. “Nora…”

This caused Yang to smirk and giggle, and she leaned over towards Pyrrha to say, “She definitely screams that in bed to him.”

“Hurry or else I liquify!”

Pyrrha slapped her hand over her mouth, somehow looking both amused and horrified. “I wouldn’t know.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Ewww,” Ruby made face while extending a bottle of sunscreen at Yang, “Help me put this on instead of being perverted.”

Yang laughed an apology and went over to help her sister.

Blake had sat down on the edge of one of the loungers, and she could only share a fond eyeroll with Weiss at their friends’ antics. Out of habit, out of mild anxiety, she then gave the beach another cursory scan. She couldn’t see very many faunus. A family, over there – the parents had horns, the two children had tails. Was it Blake’s imagination, or were they being given a wide berth by the humans nearby? And what about those two friends in the distance playing frisbee? Had one of them just received a look of disgust as he jumped exceptionally high to catch the disc?

Blake’s own cat ears reflexively strained against her bow, wanting to flatten. After the attack on Beacon, there had been awful backlash against the faunus, especially in Vale. A lot of humans didn’t make the difference between members of the White Fang and…just regular people trying to live their lives. Because sometimes there was no difference.

Sometimes their names were Blake, and the past and the present didn’t matter.

Only labels. Only race.

All the progress, gone up in Beacon's flames.

Blake took a short breath to calm herself and retrieved her own sunscreen from her belongings. She applied a bit to her face and shoulders but didn’t worry too much about other areas where her skin was showing. She tanned easily and rarely burned – an advantage of being from a tropical area, she supposed, and being outside a lot growing up.

“So, should we play volleyball first to make sure we don’t wash off the sunscreen right away?” Jaune asked the group as he removed his shirt, and Pyrrha was almost instantly on him to apply said sunscreen.

“You’re such a nerd, Jaune,” Nora cackled.

“It’s a valid point,” Pyrrha offered mildly. “I’m down for volleyball.”

“I am as well,” Ren added in – doing exactly as Nora had demanded earlier. She was so slathered she was shiny.

Amused, Blake switched her attention back over to Jaune and Pyrrha when she heard them chuckling quietly. “Hey, you’re kind of handsome,” Pyrrha was murmuring.

And Blake watched them, how careful Pyrrha was in the way she rubbed lotion on her boyfriend’s cheeks so she wouldn’t get any in his eyes. How Jaune looked at her, adoration in the sparkling of his gaze, and how easily they smiled at each other, how comfortable they were being so close.

And how Jaune could only stammer in reply, “Well, hey, you’re kind of – uh, hey, you’re really pretty.”

It made Pyrrha giggle again. They were like the picture-perfect couple, standing together like lovebirds in the sun. It caused a longing ache in Blake’s chest as her attention was drawn to Yang, who was just finishing up with Ruby. She was so beautiful with that mirth in her lilac irises, hints of those joyful, endearing crinkles at the inside corner of her eyes, towards the bridge of her nose, blonde hair shining white gold in the sunlight. Maybe she was the sunlight.

But Blake didn’t allow herself to linger, didn’t allow her heart to shatter, instead leaning over to pull her schoolwork from her bag as if everything was fine.

“Really?”

Blake halted, glanced up, caught Weiss’ critical stare. “What?”

“I saw that.”

She wasn’t able to stop the wince, but Blake nevertheless finished getting her papers and book with her pencil, affecting a dismissive shrug. “So, you saw that.”

Weiss rolled her eyes. “Be that way, Blake. See how far it gets you.”

There was a silence between them, like Weiss had expected Blake to take the bait and have some kind of reaction. But Blake had already made peace with the situation, already come to terms with the fact that she was hopeless, and it was just sad that she hadn’t moved on yet. So, she did nothing more than flip through her textbook for the page she needed.

She wasn’t usually so obvious, though.

At least, she hoped.

Weiss huffed a sigh. “Anyway. You’re not going to play volleyball?”

Blake looked up at her friends, saw that they were all finishing up and already starting to head out towards an empty volleyball sand court. She shook her head. “No. I’m not feeling it.” More like, she was anxious about it. Like she could be recognized if she stayed out in the open too long, or, at the very least, seen for what she was.

“I’m not, either, but at least I’m making the effort.”

Amber met icy blue, narrowed and questioning, like, ‘Why are you doing this?’ Blake was already here, wasn’t she? She hadn’t been the one to protest the outing, either.

But Weiss didn’t say anything else. She left Blake there and made her way towards the others.

Blake watched her go for a moment, still not understanding. She did figure Weiss had a point, but why the guilt-trip? Like she was annoyed about something or…something. Frustrated, Blake creased her eyebrows and tried going back to her work. She’d just have to ask later, if Weiss didn’t confront her again first.

“Hey, Blake, you should come play!” Ruby called out.

“Yeah! The teams are gonna be unequal and I need my partner to kick butt,” Yang added.

“Ruby, Yang…” Blake sighed and made the mistake of looking up again. Yang had stepped just a bit closer, grinning, and had a far too hopeful look in her eyes. She hadn’t stripped down to her bathing suit yet, still wearing a baggy T-shirt and shorts. It was strange, almost – for those who had known her before the attack on Beacon. Where Yang had once been so confident in her body, so ready to flaunt her guns, as she’d put it, she was now always the last one to undress, hesitant and self-conscious even in the locker rooms after team training sessions.

And, suddenly, Blake understood Weiss’ snark.

Because Yang was trying. Yang was scared, too, part of her fears very much related to the way people would look at her now. And maybe she didn’t put herself on display like she used to, but she didn’t hide completely, didn’t stop herself from living.

Guilt gnawed through Blake, that she even needed Weiss for the reminder, that she didn’t just naturally support Yang in a heartbeat. But seeing how happy it would make Yang if Blake said yes had the faunus closing her textbook and putting everything away. “I’ll play one game.” She could at least do that, before the pressure became too much, before the anxiety of it made her sick.

“Heck yeah,” Yang beamed, and they made their way towards the volleyball court together with Ruby racing on ahead of them.

“Blake! Hey, Blakey!”

Blake peered up from her schoolwork, blinking as her eyes adjusted from staring at a paper for so long. She was almost done. And then she’d be able to take a nap – a real one, comfortably settled in the sun.

The voice calling for her was Yang’s. Blake would recognize it anywhere, friendly and clear and warm. Yang was making her way over to Blake at a light jog. She had tied up her thick hair in a wild ponytail, and her skin was pearled with sweat. It seemed she’d really been giving those last few rounds of volleyball her all.

“Hey,” Blake greeted her with a small smile when she was close enough. “How’d the game go?”

Yang beamed and slowed out of her jog. “A lot of fun!” She grabbed her water bottle nearby and took a couple long swigs, almost emptying it entirely. Then she licked her lips, screwed the cap back on, and gave Blake a wink. “Thanks for playing at the beginning. It means a lot. I know being around a crowd is tough for you.”

Well, that was a little crushing. Blake’s smile faltered, but she managed, “Of course, Yang.”

Before she could say anything else, though, Yang continued, “They all want to go in the water now. I mean, I do, too, but…well, I gotta take this thing off.” She raised her prosthetic arm, gave a shrug. Then she set herself to removing her T-shirt, followed by her shorts.

Blake lowered her eyes, refusing to make things weird by ogling. Pretended to keep reading her textbook for a moment.

“I suppose you don’t wanna come swimming?”

“…No. I’m sorry. If I get saltwater in my ears, I’m not going to have a good time for the rest of the day.”

“Yeah. I get that.” Yang paused. Blake thought she wouldn’t say anything else, but then she started talking again while she continued undressing. “Like my arm – if saltwater floods the circuitry, I’m not gonna have a good time for a while. But, I mean, you can’t take off your ears. Man, can you imagine if your ears were removable? Like a little headband or clips you’d wear in your hair. I – hello? What’s wrong with me? Just – don’t worry about it, Blakey.”

There was another pause. Blake was grinning at her textbook. Yang had stopped shuffling, too, so Blake assumed she was done stripping down to her bathing suit and putting her clothes away. She dared to raise her eyes and set her smile on Yang. “Really let the worm wiggle a bit there, didn’t you?”

Yang laughed, looking off to the side and rubbing the back of her neck with her hand. “Sorry. I’m dumb.”

Blake shook her head. “It’s okay. You’re not.”

Her forgiving tone had Yang checking her expression, as if making sure Blake really wasn’t offended, and whatever she found there made her beam. Blake’s heart immediately pounded harder. Except it didn’t last. Yang quickly became a bit hesitant, a bit concerned. “If you’re not gonna go in the water…do you maybe think you could keep an eye on my arm for me?”

Blake arched her eyebrows, surprised. “Um, sure. I’ll keep it safe.”

Yang gave her a grateful smile and a wink – but Blake saw the strain in it, how it verged on being a grimace. Or how she hadn’t made a joke about her arm doing tricks, as she might have done in more private circumstances. Yang still struggled with dysmorphia, with or without the prosthetic right arm, Blake knew. It was something Beacon’s counselor had encouraged Yang to open up about with her team – or at least with one person she trusted. They couldn’t just…fix it, obviously, no matter how they all felt for Yang, but at least they could accept her and support her and keep treating her like she was the strongest member of Team RWBY – because she was.

Yang expression tightened even more as she disconnected her prosthetic. But then she stopped, stared at her metal limb for a second, and then held it up and tried giving Blake a small wave with it, accompanied by another smile. “The great thing is that I can give you a hand with anything while doing something totally different somewhere else.”

Blake couldn’t help it, she chuckled, tried to hide it with the back of her hand. But her reaction caused Yang to grin wider. For some reason, it also seemed to reassure Yang enough that she got herself moving again, fetching the box for her prosthetic from her bag and then carefully storing it inside. “Thanks, Blake.”

“Anything for you, Yang.” Oh, that was too obvious. Blake hoped Yang didn’t catch the slip-up. And she recognized there was trust being placed in her, too. Maybe even more-so than if Yang had been handing her arm over to Weiss or Ruby or even Pyrrha for safekeeping.

Blake was the one who’d been there when Yang had lost her arm, after all.

She was the one who’d failed to stop it from happening.

But Yang just slotted the box next to the lounger Blake was on and gave the faunus another quick thanks. She then stood, took a step towards the others already getting into the water, but then hesitated again. She glanced back at Blake. “You’re sure you don’t want to come?”

It was all Blake could do not to let her eyes linger on dipping line of Yang’s strong abdomen, or the defined curves of her waist and hips. The sweat on her chest, the toned muscles of her shoulders and biceps. She was hotter than she’d ever been, the results of Yang consistently training harder than she ever had, and it killed Blake that Yang didn’t stand proud, didn’t own every speck of dripping temptation her body had never once stopped radiating, regardless of training. And Blake couldn’t say a single thing about it, either – as if her opinion even mattered here.

Heat creeping up her neck and into her face, Blake instead squashed her useless pining and just focused her attention downwards at her schoolwork. “I’m sure. You don’t need me to have fun.”

“But it’s fun-er when you’re there,” Yang rebutted, a smirk in her voice. “But it’s okay. Anyway, I’ll be back for my arm later. See ya!”

Blake watched her go, allowed herself a short moment to admire the blonde’s back as she walked. “See you.” But then Blake’s gaze dropped, slowly finding the box next to her. She sighed, thoughtful, and reached down to gently brush her fingers on the lid.

Any and every part of Yang was enough. And Blake just hoped that, one day, Yang would heal sufficiently to realize it.

Blake felt the sting of her own hypocrisy, quickly followed by the heavier weight of guilt. She immediately pulled away from the box with a frown and tried focusing on the last few sentences she needed to write for her history paper. Unfortunately, the words in her textbook just kept blurring, and when Blake tried to reread herself to get her mind back into the zone, her eyes just kept skimming the same sentences over and over again without processing anything.

She leaned back on the lounger for a moment. Ugh. The effort was already giving her a mild headache. The only thing, person, her mind wanted to think about was Yang. Except Blake couldn’t do that. It was a slippery slope, one that spiraled down forever with no end in sight. There was nowhere for her feelings to go. And that hurt.

It wasn’t like she deserved Yang, anyway.

Or that Yang saw her as anything more than a friend.

But…maybe there was something Blake could do. Something slightly more productive that sitting and fretting, something to distract herself from the present, something she could pour some of her romantic energy into by being completely honest somehow.

Blake grabbed another loose-leaf paper from her binder in her bag and stared at it for a moment. She worried at her bottom lip, thinking, imagining, before glancing down at the box beside her again. Finally, Blake lowered her pencil to the paper and began to draw.

It passed the time. She didn’t have any of her proper erasers or shading pencils, so she didn’t worry too much about perfect guidelines for the proportions. Instead, she sketched lightly at first, until she was satisfied with the shape of the face, and darkened the lines. She started working on the eyes – big, laughing eyes, with mischievous crinkles at the inner corners. Blake found herself smiling softly just thinking about them, how easily they made her heart fill up with warmth.

She drew an approximation of the nose – straight and angular – but Blake still had trouble getting noses right. This one didn’t turn out too bad, she thought, despite the lack of details. And then Blake began forming the mouth, sketching longer lines because the expression was grinning. But her pencil lingered, shading, trying to render justice to the full lips, the little divot on the bottom one like its own small, upside-down cupid’s bow, because Blake had never seen a more beautiful mouth. She traced out the teeth, the two inner incisors just slightly more prominent than the outer ones, and the canines coming in to balance out the smile.

Yang was adorable when she smiled.

Blake paused, taking a break so she wouldn’t get too frustrated with it, too frustrated that she couldn’t capture the image in her mind just right. It was mostly good so far, she believed, but she was always her own harshest critic and, if she rushed, she might get discouraged with it. She was just trying this outlet, to help lighten the weight in her chest. And she did feel somewhat better already.

Blake’s gaze gravitated to where her friends were playing in the water. Jaune and Pyrrha were chasing each other, splashing and catching each other – it made her smile sadly watching them, how openly affectionate they were together. And, Yang, meanwhile, had Ruby up on her shoulders, facing off against Ren and Nora in some kind of battle that seemed to involve not letting the waves topple them over. It looked like a lot of fun, and Blake cursed the feline appendages on her head for being so sensitive.

Like a little headband or clips I’d wear in my hair, huh?

Instead she just wore an annoying bow all the time. She didn’t even like the water.

But seeing her friends laugh together like that, seeing the joy on Yang’s face…

Was it worth the fear and the pain?

Blake saw Weiss, too. The heiress was building a sandcastle. A very well-made and extravagant one, by the looks of it. She’d even drawn the attention of a tiny crowd.

Blake shook her head.

She returned to her drawing, leaving the lips for now to give this head some hair. Hair was both easy and hard for Blake – the first bunch of lines came naturally, getting the thick, purposely disheveled shape without too much issue, but then trying to fill in the details, how the bangs rested on the forehead or how longer strands framed the neck, was a different story. And Blake knew how much effort Yang put into her hair, how much difficulty she probably had with it every morning in the bathroom, herself. It seemed only fair for Blake to struggle with it, too.

If it hadn’t been a weird thing for a friend to do, Blake would have helped Yang with her hair every day. But just imagining being in such close proximity to Yang so often, hands running through those blonde locks, made Blake sigh lowly. It was a bad idea.

The drawing was probably a bad idea, too. Blake shouldn’t have been entertaining anything more than platonic with her partner.

She stopped, hand hovering over her paper as she fought this nagging urge to crumple it outright. After taking a few breaths, she decided to instead put it away in her binder, in her bag, along with her pencil and other school items. She settled back down on the lounger, on her stomach this time, and tried to get into a comfortable position, using her towel as a pillow. Her hand hung off the side, touched a metal casing.

Yang’s box.

Instead of pulling away this time, Blake let her hand rest on top of it. Brushed her thumb over the sleek surface slowly. If she was going to sleep, she’d make sure nobody else would feel inclined to touch or take it. Yang had given it to her for safekeeping, was trusting Blake with something she had no business trusting Blake with, and so Blake would protect it and keep it safe, just as she’d said.

It was the least she could do.

Watching the sunset on the beach was an entirely different experience than watching it from a dorm window. Blake was more than content to sit there on the sand, thighs pulled up against her chest, enjoying how quiet the area had become this late into the day. Even the waves retreating to the ocean were less violent. There was still the occasional cry from a seagull, but, for the most part, this was the ambiance Blake had in mind before they’d even left Beacon much earlier that afternoon.

The view was very scenic, too. Blake considered herself not a half-bad artist, but trying to recreate the absolute masterpiece the sky was right now would have been a fruitless endeavor. Streaks of orange, red, and yellow flowed across the horizon, the sun a crimson ball kissing the ocean and setting the water on fire.

It always seemed to be like this, ever since Blake had returned from Menagerie when Beacon had reopened its doors after its repairs. She felt…apart from everyone. It had been especially bad at the beginning, because Yang had been angry with her, of course she’d been angry with her. And Weiss, while understanding of Blake’s reasons, had had a few choice words for Blake at first. Even Ruby and Pyrrha had been a little weird, and that made everything awkward when the two nicest people of the group tiptoed around certain subjects.

And Blake knew it was her fault. She knew what she’d done – abandoned Yang in her greatest time of need without saying a single thing about where she’d gone. And with the CCT’s offline for three months, she’d run too far away for anyone to blow up her scroll with calls and messages for a long enough time that when Remnant-wide communications were back up, the only person she’d received a single text from was Ruby.  

Just Ruby.

Being far too sweet and forgiving, as Ruby was.

Hey, hope this reaches you. And I hope you’re okay. Beacon’s gonna be open again next year. It would be really awesome to have Team RWBY back together again. We miss you, Blake.

The message had sent Blake spiraling further into her guilt. She hadn’t had the courage to respond, and the longer she didn’t, the harder it got, until she’d given up altogether.

But the olive branch had been extended. And when it came time to reenroll, Blake had progressed towards a sufficiently level enough headspace to make the decision to come back.

To Vale, to Beacon, to Team RWBY.

To Yang.

Blake rested her forehead on her knees for a moment, tension twisting up her stomach.

She’d made amends. She’d earned forgiveness. And things had, slowly, taken on a new normal. She knew everyone was fine with her now.

Yet Blake always, eventually, drifted off on her own. They’d had a great time at a soup restaurant for supper together, and they’d all agreed to come back to the beach afterwards to play more games on the sand, and Blake had participated for a little while – until the ache in her chest was too much to bear and she’d said she wanted to relax and watch the sunset for a bit.

She tried to brush it off as just needing to recharge her batteries after spending so much time socializing – which wasn’t a lie, really – but the truth was that there were voices in her head whispering that she was taking advantage of their kindness by sticking around for that long. That she should distance herself sometimes, so that it didn’t seem like she was trying to impose herself back into their lives.

Demons of her own making, she knew.

But the rational side of her couldn’t choke out the feelings.

And they all seemed to still be enjoying themselves now, either way – Blake could hear them, further down the beach, having some kind of friendly war with only themselves and their semblances.

She was happy, in a way. With or without her, they’d always be fine.

But maybe Blake hadn’t learned anything, after all.

She heard Yang approaching almost as soon as she’d started making her way over to Blake. Blake had recognized the casual fall of her steps, and, as she got closer, the strong beat of her heart. And when Yang sat down beside Blake, legs crossed, the faunus felt the perpetual warmth radiating off her partner’s body and smelled the vanilla and gunpowder on her clothes, too.

She welcomed all of it.

Yang had a beige jacket on now, and jeans – the outfit she’d put on before heading to the restaurant earlier.

Blake hadn’t even seen her pack a second set of clothes.

Yang didn’t speak, at first. She seemed happy to stare out at the water and sky for a little while with Blake. Which, really, Blake was grateful for, but she found herself struggling with feline instincts urging her to cuddle up against the source of heat near her. And because Blake had come to associate Yang’s scent with things that made her feel safe, Blake also very much wanted to bury her nose against Yang’s shoulder, or even the crook of her neck.

It felt like wrestling a creature that was too small and too agile for its own good, constantly finding ways to slip out of Blake’s grip, and it was all she could do to catch it by the scruff of its neck and force it back onto her lap.

Where the struggle continued.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Yang murmured.

Blake glanced at her, hoped the problem she was having wasn’t written all over her face. “Talk about what?” Yang didn’t know, right? Blake hadn’t ever been forthcoming about the more inward cat-like traits she had. The ears were a source of shame enough as it was.

“Well, the dream you had back in our room. I dunno, maybe I’m off, but you’ve been pretty distant today. And you seem…sad.”

Blake instantly froze over. She clenched her jaw. It was naïve of her, to think she could hide herself away from Yang, to think that Yang didn’t see when Blake wasn’t quite herself. Yang had proven her emotional intelligence and sensitivity over and over again, and it only made Blake fall harder each time.

Faced with Blake’s lack of response, Yang seemed to guess she’d hit the nail on the head. “You’re still experiencing guilt about my arm, aren’t you?”

Blake curled in on herself further. Said nothing.

“I don’t understand, Blakey. We talked about it, like, a lot. And I know it took a little while, but we got through it, found our rhythm again. I thought we were fine.”

Blake had to shut her eyes and lean her forehead on her knees. Her heart was pounding so hard. This wasn’t something she could try to lie about or brush off – they’d been clear with each other, about a year and a half ago, that if they wanted to keep being good partners, good friends, that they had to be honest about how to deal with each other and their feelings when it came to Yang’s arm. Anything less would harm them beyond repair.

And Blake was terrified. She’d already come so close to losing Yang permanently that nightmarish day. She’d almost lost her friendship by running away afterwards. It felt like she was forever walking on the precipice of a deadly fall, and one misstep would be the end of all she held dear – and not because of Yang, but because of her own past and cowardice breathing down their necks.

What if she lost Yang for good revealing this one last terrible secret?

“I still…get dreams like that, too, you know,” Yang eventually said into the silence stretching on between them. Even the waves crashing in offered no comfort now.

“I know,” Blake whispered. It woke her up sometimes. Not as often before, Yang had done a lot of healing, but…Blake always woke at the smallest, unusual sound. She still heard it when Yang struggled in her sleep. Still felt helpless and awful at not knowing what to do because what she knew she wanted to do wasn’t quite what a platonic friend would do. Or, at the very least, felt too guilty to try because of how deep her feelings ran, too afraid that Yang would guess or that Blake would mess it up.

And then Yang would eventually wake up on her own, sometimes crying so quietly Blake had to wonder, other times getting up to drink some water and pace outside their dorm room for a while. There’d been a couple times where Yang had checked if she’d woken Blake, followed by a glum apology when Blake said yes.

And all Blake could do was just stay lying there under her blankets and tell Yang not to worry about it.

What a horrible friend I am.

Yang glanced at her. Hesitant, a little torn. “I didn’t know that you had them, too.”

Oh, Yang. It almost broke Blake. Made her want to scream until her throat turned raw. Instead, she found herself muttering, “He saw the way I looked at you, Yang. I relive that memory over and over again, in different ways, different settings, different events leading up to it, but always right before watching him sever the arm from the person I care about the most. I can’t not feel guilty about it.”

There was a pause. It was too late to take back, and Blake knew what she’d said. But Yang wanted the truth.

So, there it was.

Yang slowly leaned forward, put her hand on the sand. “Blake…” Her eyes turned to meet her partner’s, uncertain, nervous. “What do you mean – the way you…looked at me?” She shook her head a little, like she was saying no to something Blake wasn’t privy to. “Why was – is – that important?”

At first, Blake was too frozen in fear to answer or even react. But Yang was already putting the pieces together – that much was clear in the gradual widening of her eyes. So, Blake pushed her legs away from her chest and crossed them instead, took a grounding breath in and shakily exhaled. The blood was rushing in her ears, her heart hammering so hard she wasn’t sure how her thorax kept it contained. And, finally, she swallowed against the knot in her throat and forced out, “Because I’m in love with you, Yang.”

Yang just stared at Blake. Searching. Stunned.

But now the dam was broken. Blake rushed on, “He might have just toyed with Weiss or Ruby if they were the ones that had showed up. But it was you.” Her voice hitched. “…Of course it was you. I was horrified. I knew Adam would lose his mind with jealousy and hatred. He would have killed you – because you had what he couldn’t keep.” A sob suddenly racked Blake’s body, and she covered her face with her hands, leaning over again, hiding away, desperately trying to keep control over her terror. “I’m – sorry. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“But you never – what? Blake, I…” Yang’s own voice trailed off, quiet and disbelieving. “I don’t –” She stopped again. “I didn’t know. Gods, I – you’re shaking so much. Let me hug you?”

Blake felt Yang’s hand gently touch her arm – and the gesture shattered her heart. She really did start crying then, immediately bringing her knees back up to shield herself. How could Yang be so kind, so selfless, especially after this? In what world did Blake ever deserve Yang’s warmth?

Faced with Blake’s lack of response – and lack of clear consent – Yang just sat closer against her side and ever so gently rubbed circles on Blake’s back. “I’m sorry, Blake. I’m not really good with my words.” She laughed, dismal, and her voice sounded a little thick, like she was upset, too. “I usually just try to make my hugs be the best in the world. I, uh,” her tone turned a bit hopeful, “I think I’ve reached the final boss level with them, anyway?”

And Blake – Blake sputtered a laugh through her sobbing because it was just so Yang, so unexpected but so sincere and comforting in a way videogame references shouldn’t have ever been. “You’ve beat the world’s high score with them, Yang,” Blake managed in a croak before half-laughing, half-crying against her legs some more.

Yang joined Blake in that, her hand reaching around the faunus’ shoulders and giving an affectionate squeeze before returning to brushing slow patterns on her upper back. “Thank you for recognizing my hard work.”

The lightheartedness had its probably intended effect – as inconsolable as Blake had thought she’d been, she found herself breathing easier already. Somehow, even if Yang was shocked by the news, she gave no judgement. Only support, only care. Within just a few moments, Blake was able to wipe her eyes and start calming down.

Just another reason to find Yang so incredible.

Blake couldn’t help it – she leaned against Yang’s side, let her head rest against Yang’s shoulder. The blonde was so warm, a living space heater, and her clothes smelled like vanilla and gunpowder, her skin like the ocean. Yang even held Blake by the shoulders again, and they were both quiet for a little while as they watched the setting sun sparkle on the water and bathe the beach in orange and red.

If this was the one memory Blake could keep before their friendship burned to ashes, she would store it more preciously than she’d ever stored anything in the organized attic of her mind. She’d place it there with all her other tender memories of Yang – Yang smiling, Yang winking, Yang’s arms around her, Yang’s red eyes in her protective anger – front and center on the mantle of her love, somewhere Blake could easily revisit and touch at the tip of her fingers as if it had been real, and place a sunflower underneath, because those were Yang’s favorites.

And Blake could pretend, just for a small while as she remembered this moment, that she wasn’t the reason why Yang’s smiles didn’t reach her eyes as often anymore.

“We could…try dating, you know,” Yang suddenly said into the comfortable silence they’d lapsed into.

It was a bit, a lot, like getting severe whiplash. Blake stiffened. She sniffled and moved away from Yang to properly look at her – give her a disbelieving stare while she was at it, too. “You can’t just suggest things like that.”

“Well…why not? You’re my friend, my best friend; a really great partner, and an amazing person in general. I trust you with my life.”

It was so naïve. Too naïve. Blake’s heart had gone right back to pounding, but this time she was upset. “But you’re straight, Yang. None of what you just said implies romance.” And Yang had to know that, too. She’d been in a couple relationships with men before. She knew the difference.

“I mean, I think I have liked looking at a few girls in the past. And I do, you know, like looking at you, too.” Pink dusted Yang’s cheeks, and she suddenly sounded a bit shy – but maybe it was just uncertainty at talking about something Blake had absolutely never heard her talk about before. “You are really pretty, Blake. And I really like hugging you, more than I’ve liked hugging anyone.” Yang cleared her throat, tried a tentative smile. “I think what I’m trying to say is that I’m not, like, totally put off? I think I could learn to reciprocate your feelings.”

And all Blake could do was let out a long exhale before bringing her hands to her face to cover the sides of her nose and mouth, closing her eyes for a moment. This was…not what she’d been expecting. At all. And while the things Yang had just said were a little better than the first thing she’d said…

Blake’s drowning heart had been a thrown a lifeline. Except the line was made of paper and silk.

Not nearly strong enough to save her.

But before Blake could find what to say, something about promises that couldn’t be kept, no doubt, the two young women heard footsteps approaching. They turned, saw Weiss making her way over to them. Yang leaned back on her hands, so easily switching into a more casual and laid-back position.

“Hey, Weiss,” she greeted her with a smile. “What’s up?”

Weiss stopped a few feet away and arched her eyebrows. “I hope you two are okay over here. And I don’t mean to interrupt, but we’re going to miss the last airship to Beacon if we don’t leave in the next five minutes.”

“Right! Well, tell the others you can start heading out without us. We’ll catch up before the airship leaves.”

Weiss paused, took in Blake’s probably still puffy eyes, and seemed to grow more concerned. But then she shook her head and said, “Fine. Just don’t be late or worry Ruby.” And then she turned on her heels and started walking back towards the group.

Blake and Yang watched her go, and once Weiss was out of earshot, Yang returned her attention to Blake. “I do want you to be happy, Blake. And I’d like to keep having you in my life one way or another.”

“Then I think you’ll understand when I say that you can’t do something like this just to see if you can.” Blake took a calming breath in, tried to keep her tone level despite her distress. “I love you, Yang. I’ve loved you since before the attack on Beacon. And I never stopped loving you, even after that.” She dared to put her hand on Yang’s arm, dared to move just a little closer, so Yang would see how important this was. “I don’t get giddy butterflies or bouts of excitement just from being near you. I don’t worry about how I look to you or do things just to get your attention. And I’m not sitting here, wildly hoping all my dreams are coming true. It’s not a crush, I’m not infatuated.”

Blake had to stop for a second, swallow back the tightness in her throat. Even her heart felt like it was trying to rip itself apart inside her chest. Their friendship wouldn’t be the same after this – because that was just how things worked. It was inevitable. And Blake couldn’t do much else except mourn now. She managed to meet Yang’s beautiful lilac irises, saw only hurt and incomprehension reflected back at her. So, Blake gathered the scattered pieces of her courage and finished more softly, “I just want you to be happy, Yang. That’s all I care about.”

Yang stared, as if Blake had grabbed her by the collar and jostled her – except she hadn’t. The silence stretched on, and Blake moved away, shook her head. Blinked fiercely. They had to go. She stood and offered her hand to Yang.

Yang took it, allowed herself to be hauled up. But just as Blake was loosening her hold and beginning to walk off, Yang gripped a bit harder before letting go. “Wait. Where does that leave us, then?”

Blake forced herself to breathe, tried to bring forth some pretense of aloofness – if only to help free Yang from having to consider Blake’s own feelings. “Anywhere you want it to leave us, Yang. But we really need to go. Maybe we can talk about it some other time.” It wasn’t what Blake wanted, but they couldn’t miss the airship. And continuing this conversation in front of the others was out of the question.

“I… Fine, you’re right,” Yang sighed shortly. She slid her hands into her pockets. “Let’s go, then.” She started walking.

Blake followed a few steps behind her, stared down at her own feet. “I’m sorry. Bad timing.”

“No, it’s –” Yang came to an abrupt halt, and Blake almost bumped into her. She turned around, gave Blake this frustrated look. “Just, it’s not your fault. I see you still blaming yourself. Not about the stupid airship, obviously. But anyway, we’ll talk.”

Blake nodded. She still couldn’t meet Yang’s eyes. “We’ll talk,” she agreed.

They stayed standing in front of one another for a moment longer, as if Yang had something else she wanted to say, but then the blonde pivoted and strode off again.

Blake trailed behind her without another word.

HERE ARE THE BLOOPERS/OUTTAKES FROM CHAPTER 1's AUDIO:

Chapter Text

FOLLOW ALONG WITH THE FULLY-CASTED AUDIO DRAMATIZATION, NARRATED BY YOURS TRULY:

Professor Sycamore’s classes were some of the more difficult ones for Yang to pay attention to. There wasn’t so much action happening in them, compared to Professor Peach’s survival training or Goodwitch’s combat lessons. Sycamore was a chill guy and all, and Yang had nothing against him, but his subject matters revolved a lot more around the social and political aspects of being hunters.

And Yang knew those were important, too, obviously, because grimm attacked people, and hunters needed to be efficient with crowd control or knowing how to deal with certain important individuals, especially if civilian guard forces or the military weren’t on site yet, but…

Well. Sitting still for the better part of an hour had never been Yang’s forte. Especially at the end of the day like this.

Had the benches always been so hard and flat? Yang shifted her butt. Again.

Oftentimes, Professor Sycamore at least had the students participate in simulated scenarios to practice their performances, and those tended to be entertaining in some way or another, but not today. Today, Professor Sycamore had decided he was talking a lot – and, sure, he had vids and pics to show as examples and explanations, but Yang’s leg was jittering and she kept stopping in the middle of her notes to tap her pencil on her paper or roll the eraser on her lips.

Blake’s presence in the seat next to Yang wasn’t helping, either.

It wasn’t like she was doing anything. Not anything different, anyway. Every time Yang glanced at her, Blake’s right hand was either calmly writing on the lines or doodling in the margins while she leaned her chin on her left fist to keep her eyes up front, sometimes looking down, the perfect picture of interested disinterest.

It was all Yang could do not to dig her fingers into her scalp and groan out loud.

‘He saw the way I looked at you, Yang.’

Yang hadn’t known.

Couldn’t have ever possibly guessed.

Blake was like a pond. Like the undisturbed surface –

’Mkay, brain, that’s just dumb.

For the past two days, Yang’s mind had been caught revisiting the past, analyzing every single interaction she could remember ever having with Blake under a microscope, trying to figure out if there was any way she could’ve clued in on her own.

But nothing seemed obvious. Nothing even seemed to hint at it.

And even then, Yang was a little upset – upset at being blindsided, upset that even after all the conversations and apologies and promises they’d had, even after already having lived one of the worst things they could’ve possibly lived, Blake had hidden away the additional perspective. One terribly important detail, something that had made the difference between Yang just having a couple unpleasant memories and phantom pain from a limb she didn’t have anymore.

And it wasn’t like it changed Yang’s choice, because it didn’t – she would’ve still rushed in to save Blake, maybe even more-so knowing just how much Blake cared – but the context could have at least helped Yang find some peace with why Blake had just abandoned her afterwards.

Because that was what had hurt the most. Even more than losing her arm.

And Blake knew that.

Yang huffed a little, staring on ahead, seeing that Professor Sycamore was showing footage of a grimm attack that had happened somewhere in Mistral a while ago. She didn’t hear the question he had asked the class.

Movement from the corner of her eye then caught her attention. Blake had started reaching her hand towards Yang’s, as if to still her, but froze. It had the same effect anyway, Yang stopped tapping her pencil on her notebook upon noticing, and when Blake saw Yang looking, the faunus clenched her fist and pulled away with the slightest shake of her head. Blake then cast her gaze downwards at her papers – and even from the side like this, Yang saw the resignation in the crease of her brow.

“What else do we notice about how this huntsmen team is coordinating?”

Yang kept her gaze on her partner for a moment longer before her attention switched over to Weiss when her hand went up, and Sycamore nodded at her for her answer. “They’re working by each other’s strengths and weaknesses, keeping the heavy hitters focused on the Grimm while the huntsman with the wind-based semblance is blocking off a perimeter wherever he can around the danger zone.”

“Very good, Miss Schnee.” Sycamore surveyed the class. “And is there anything you think they could have done better, or even just differently, while they waited for the civilian guard forces to arrive?”

They could have waited for each other. They could have stuck together, like partners are supposed to.

Like you’d think they would if one of them was freakin’ in love with the other.

But that probably wasn’t the answer Professor Sycamore was looking for. Some other student answered instead, saying something about how the wind could have been used to keep the flying grimm landed, and Yang felt herself zoning out again.

Replaying that moment. Blake on the broken floor, blood all over her waist, staring at Yang with such terror, and standing above her with his red sword in hand…

Class was over ten minutes later.

As students started collecting their things, Sycamore added from his desk, “And don’t forget, the end of the year is in less than two months, you should all be getting your sixty hours of shadowing done before then.”

Yang dropped her pencil trying to finagle it into her case. She clenched her metal fist reflexively out of frustration and started leaning down, but then Blake was already there, quickly swiping the pencil off the floor and showing it to Yang.

Their eyes met again. Yang couldn’t hold the stare, instead taking her pencil back with a small, “Thanks, Blake.” She got it into her case that time.

“You’re welcome. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m okay,” Yang sighed, getting her bag and starting to leave the bench. But are you?

Blake just followed behind her. Quiet. Never insisting.

How did she do that? If it were Yang, she would have been dying for answers, dying for something. Like she was already. There was never a good time to talk. Since they’d come back from the beach, they were never alone or there were more important things to do. And Blake just seemed so unaffected, not really treating Yang any differently – or maybe she was quieter than usual? More closed off somehow?

But maybe that was just a result of being used to, resigned to, the situation already.

Or maybe Yang was imagining things.

But there was something in her stomach that felt tighter, heavier, than normal. Just a little. Something not quite right, like creaking in load-bearing pillars.

Although…that wasn’t really Blake’s problem to deal with. Yang’s insecurity was her own to secure, after all.

If only she knew how.

They met up with Ruby and Weiss in the hallway.

“I think we’re gonna have to schedule our city guard or military shadowing hours tomorrow,” Ruby was saying, “’cause between that and the left over fifty hours of hunter shadowing we have and all the other stuff, we’re gonna run out of time.”

Weiss suddenly cleared her throat loud enough to get everyone’s attention and waited until three pairs of eyes were on her before staring right at Yang and exclaiming way too enthusiastically, “We should go to the beach!” and then looked at Ruby with, “Yeah, great idea!” and she even added in a much less energetic way, eyes now on Blake, “We might as well go, Weiss.”

“Okay, okay, yes, ha-ha, you were the voice of reason, as usual,” Yang retorted in a growling breath, but Ruby just giggled and said almost at the same time, “Those were pretty great impressions, not gonna lie.”

And Blake? Well, Yang saw her just arch her eyebrows and shrug. “I did some work while we were there. Meanwhile, weren’t you asking me to join volleyball?”

“Fine, we’ll deal with our schedules tomorrow,” Weiss huffed.

“Right after classes!” Ruby added, insistent. “We can meet in the study hall.”

“Sounds like a plan to me,” Blake agreed. “I’ll bring a holotab and take care of organizing it for us.”

“Thanks Blake! Much appreciate. And you guys don’t go making other plans.” Ruby gave all three girls a completely non-threatening warning stare before grinning. “Anyway, I’m gonna go running, see you guys later!”

She immediately headed off.

Yang shook her head with an affectionate smile. Ruby always had so much energy, always on the go, but she was taking her responsibility as RWBY’s leader much more seriously this year, and it made Yang proud. It was also funny just watching her use her boss voice like it had any kind of impact on people who were her friends and family. Yang turned her grin over at Weiss. “I suppose we should be going to your butt-whoopin’ session, too, huh?”

“Oh, we’re sticking with it now? I’d like to see your individual grades compared to mine just for fun, you oaf.”

But before Yang could shoot back at Weiss, Blake interrupted softly with, “Hey, Yang?”

Yang turned her head, just in time to see Blake give her own extended hand a frown like she’d been about to touch Yang’s shoulder, before she quickly lowered it back to her side. Their gazes met. Blake took a breath. “I’m going to go running with Ruby, okay?”

Yang searched her expression, looking for any signs of…anything, but other than that brief moment of…frustration? Hurt? Blake just seemed normal. Her regular, discreet self. Yang nodded. “Yeah, okay, Blake. Have fun.”

“Thanks.” Blake walked off in the direction Ruby had gone, not once looking back. Yang watched her go, shifted her weight to her other foot uneasily. That thing in her stomach wasn’t feeling so great. She turned back towards Weiss.

Weiss – who had also watched Blake leave, but with this strange look on her face, some mix of critical sympathy. Yang creased her eyebrows, realization dawning on her. “You…know?”

“I take it she told you. It got clear to me at the beach. Before that I just had questions.”

Yang groaned, throwing her free hand up in disbelief. “What do you mean, you just had questions? How did you even have those? I don’t unders –” She stopped, eyes widening, and looked back at the direction Blake had left, sheepishly rubbing the spot on her shoulder Blake would have touched, if she’d followed through. “Oh…”

She met Weiss’ unimpressed, almost vaguely amused stare.

“Just realized she wasn’t so subtle about it, hm?” Weiss started walking in the opposite direction Blake had gone, forcing Yang to snap out of it and get a move on, too.

After catching up, Yang winced and drooped her shoulders a bit. “She…she doesn’t touch you at all, does she?” And looks like she won’t be touching me anymore, either.

“I haven’t seen her initiate physical contact with anyone except you. Not even with Ruby, who hugs her regularly.”

It's official. There’s just a rock in my head.

Because now Yang remembered. Now that she knew what she was looking for. How often Blake touched her shoulder, her arm, her hand. The familiar nudges when Yang made dumb jokes. And how differently she accepted Yang’s hugs – the tenderness in her embrace compared to Ruby’s fierce tackles or Pyrrha’s quick squeezes. Yang had assumed it was just the way Blake was, careful with everything and everyone, but…

But Yang had seen Ruby hug Blake, and Blake always seemed so surprised, barely having the time to give Ruby an awkward pat on the back before Ruby was off again. They’d laughed about it more than once.

But there were no awkward pats for Yang.

No, Blake’s hands would easily come around Yang’s waist, settle on her middle or upper back gently, sometimes squeezing just as gently while resting her chin on Yang’s shoulder. And if Yang squeezed harder, Blake just seemed to hold Yang closer, not at all bothered if Yang was being over-the-top about it.

Would she even let me hug her, now?

That worried Yang. Because Yang liked hugs, liked giving them, liked to think she gave the best ones. And Blake seemed like she needed them the most.

…But if Yang was honest, she really needed them, herself, too. From Blake, specifically.

Except Yang was an expert at putting her foot in her mouth, so she was automatically at a disadvantage against this dilemma.

“She communicates a lot more with you, too,” Weiss remarked, pulling Yang out of her head. They were reaching the locker rooms already; Yang couldn’t even remember the short trip there. Weiss must have allowed Yang time to think. As she pushed open the door, the heiress continued, “And, I know – you’re partners, you’re friends, you’ve been through a lot – of course you’d talk more together than with us, but she didn’t have to tell you where she was going earlier. She certainly doesn’t make sure Ruby or I know where she is all the time.”

It seemed like such a mundane, insignificant thing. But to Yang, the revelation was a punch to the gut. It was almost enough to make her outright stop in the doorway. She took a breath, felt something in her chest clench.

What?

…But it was true. Yang always knew where Blake was. Even if Yang didn’t ask. Blake made sure Yang didn’t have to wonder about it.

Ever again.

And Yang had just been taking it for granted, hadn’t fully realized the extent of consistent effort Blake had been making to upkeep the repairs to their friendship they’d done. Yang roughly passed her free hand through her hair, held her books closer to her body as she walked past Weiss, who was waiting with the door held open with arched eyebrows. “Ughh, Weiss, what do I do?”

“How should I know? It didn’t even sound like there was something to be done. Your condition is terminal.”

“Wow, thanks, I guess I’ll die.” Yang scoffed, frowned, and then just shook her head with a smile. She found her locker, put her books in it while Weiss did the same in the one next to the blonde.

“I’ll deliver the sad news to the others. My condolences, Yang died of stupidity.”

Yang gave Weiss a smirk, because that would probably actually be written on her gravestone one day, but while grabbing her change of clothes she shot back, “I might be stupid, but you still can’t beat me in a fight.”

“You sound exactly like a muscle-head with rocks for brains.”

“Hey, I must be a little smart because Blake Belladonna fell in love with me.”

Weiss couldn’t have looked more unimpressed. “Maybe figure that situation out before bragging about it.”

Yang could only laugh nervously.

“Yaaaaang, wake uuup!”

Yang groaned and grabbed her pillow to put it on top of her face. She was still tired. It couldn’t possibly be morning already. Also, that was the wrong voice.

“C’mon, sleepyhead. Wakey-wakey before I take your pillow and hit you with it.”

Yang groaned louder, held the pillow tighter, this time turning to face the wall – and hopefully turning her back to her sister. Could it not be the weekend already?

“Well, can’t say I didn’t warn you!”

Yang felt the bed shift, and she immediately sat up, eyes wide. And wild. She set her stare on her sister. “Don’t you dare.”

Ruby giggled and lowered her own pillow mid-attack before hopping back down to the floor. “Boring. Anyway, get outta bed. You’re gonna be late.”

Yang squinted at her scroll, checking the time, and then squinted around the room before squinting harder at Ruby. “Where’s Blake?” And why isn’t she the one waking me up?

It was the third time now.

Not that Yang…needed Blake to be the one doing that. But…it just wasn’t usually Ruby. And not usually this late. Yang heaved a sigh and got down from her bunk to start getting ready, giving up on allocating time she didn’t have to doing her morning exercises. It made her grumpy, starting her day off wrong again.

“She’s at the cafeteria with Weiss. Asked me to get you up.”

“Well…alright then. I’m up. Thanks.”

Still, as Yang yawned and took her metal limb from its box so that she could attach it to the connector on her right bicep, that nagging uncertainty crept back into her stomach like a piece of lead.

This wasn’t Yang’s imagination. It couldn’t be. One time could’ve been because Blake, herself, had woken up late or whatever – Yang hadn’t questioned it. Two times was a little sus but still within excusable sense. But three times in a row? There was no other reason for Blake to suddenly get Ruby to wake Yang when Blake had been the one doing it for the past few months, consistently ensuring Yang could do her rehabilitation exercises while Blake did her own morning warmup.

Blake really was creating distance between them.

And Yang… Yang knew what anxiety felt like.

“Did ya sleep well at least?” Ruby wondered, pausing on her way towards the door.

“It was fine,” Yang shrugged. “You woke up not too long ago too, right?”

“Yeah, just finished prepping for the day. You looked peaceful, wanted to let you get as much rest as possible.”

Yang couldn’t blame Ruby for that. It was just Ruby looking out, thinking she was doing Yang a bigger favor by letting her sleep. Blake seemed to be the only one who knew – or, at least, who went the extra mile – to get Yang’s butt out of bed early when the blonde’s alarms failed her (more like, when she failed her alarms). And Ruby wouldn’t have caught on to anything being different for a reason – which Yang also didn’t blame her sister for. She had always made sure to keep Ruby from worrying about her as much as possible.

“Thanks, Ruby,” Yang offered with a reassuring smile, and gave her sister a pat on the head before continuing on her way towards the bathroom. “Good Ruby.”

“Okay, unnecessary. Do I look Zwei to you?”

Yang let out a laugh and glanced back. “Not at all, Zwei’s cuter.”

“Hey!”

Yang giggled. “Get outta here, silly. Go join Weiss and Blake, I’ll be with you guys as fast as I can.”

“But never as fast as meeeeee. Get crackin’, we still have some homework to finish!”

And then, out of having too much energy this early in the morning, Ruby slammed the door on her rush out. Yang’s muscles seized, heartrate accelerating. She lost her smile, clenched her fists and shook them out, took a deep breath in and slowly exhaled. Did it again. She stretched her arms above her head, filling her lungs with air a third time, and then lowered down, folding in two to touch her toes – a brief exercise to somehow take the razor edge off this growing feeling that made it just a little harder to breathe.

It did help calm Yang a little.

Blake had shown her that trick.

Isn’t this the only outcome that makes sense?

I don’t want to lose my friend.

It wasn’t like Yang was uncomfortable with anything Blake had ever done. Blake was the closest person Yang had ever been to, save for Ruby. But they were completely different dynamics. Yang did let Blake in sometimes (sometimes), did confide in her when push came to shove, two things Yang would never burden Ruby with. It had taken them a while to get back into the rhythm of things, but Blake was an amazing listener and never made Yang feel judged or rejected.

Which. Hello. Duh.

But that was until now. Because this did feel like a rejection of friendship to Yang, even if she knew that wasn’t really what it was. But cold logic wouldn’t reassure irrational feelings. And if Yang was hurt, she could only imagine how awful it must have been for Blake.

She went into the bathroom, passed her normal hand through her hair. Caught her reflection in the mirror. Guess it’s a ponytail day.

She looked away before her eyes could lower further and started getting ready.

“You’ve been separated from your team out in the wilderness while escorting a convoy because of a grimm attack. Communications are down, members of the convoy have been hurt. What is your best course of action? A, abandon the convoy in search of help. B, stay with the convoy and wait for your teammates to find you. C, tell the convoy it’s everyone for themselves –”

From beside Weiss, Ruby almost choked on her food in the middle of an impulsive cackle. Eyes watering but grinning at the same time, she said, “It’s definitely that one. Cause chaos on your way out. Be a problem.”

Yang cracked a smile. “Can you imagine?”

“Yeah, that’s why I’m laughing.”

“…or D, continue with the convoy to reach its destination as fast as possible to save the wounded, leaving your team behind.”

Yang lost her smile. She shared a sheepish look with Ruby before deciding to close her textbook and set it off to the side on the table. In another life, they may have made more jokes.

Now…

Well. Not so much.

“This is always the problem with theory versus practice,” came Blake’s voice as she arrived at their table. She set Yang’s breakfast platter in front of her and took a seat next to the blonde with her own food, adding with a sigh, “In our heads we know the answers, in reality the answers mess with our heads.”

She must have heard their conversation from afar. Yang took a quick look at the band on Blake’s head, marveled for the umpteenth time at how easily the faunus hid her cat ears with a bow or a wide headband or a scarf or even a ribbon sometimes.

She still couldn’t imagine that it was very comfortable for Blake.

“It’s so arbitrary,” Weiss agreed, shaking her head. “Those situations are never that black and white. Professor Sycamore just wants to know what we think.”

Yang reached for the apple on her platter and was about to take it, but then realization hit her like a truck and she stopped. Stared at her breakfast. At the vegetable and egg wrap, with the sauce on the side instead of in the wrap. The extra pieces of avocado and a handful of almonds. Not a single thing the way she didn’t prefer it, even if Yang would’ve never complained about it either way.

“You alright there, Yang?” Ruby asked with an amused smirk. “You just kinda spaced for a sec.”

Yang saw Blake look over. Impassive, except for that brief flash of concern that lit up her gaze when she glanced from Yang’s food platter to Yang. “Is something wrong? I can go back –”

“No, no – I, uh, no, it’s great.” Wincing, she grabbed her apple and took a bite, adding more quietly, “Thanks, Blake.”

“…Okay.”

Blake turned away. Idly picked at her own food.

Yang flicked her eyes up, met Weiss’ arched-eyebrowed stare, and quickly brought the subject back around before anything could be questioned further. “Anyway, so what should we answer? Do we just put it to a vote?”

“Unfortunately, I do think the answer here is D,” Weiss said while beginning to write on her paper again. Yang was glad she hadn’t insisted.

“Yeah…” Ruby creased her eyebrows into a bit of a frown. “We’re supposed to protect our charge and get them to safety no matter what.”

“…Yeah.” While Weiss finished writing and began reading the next question, Yang found herself zoning out again as she chewed on the last few bites of her apple, caught in processing yet another important piece of the puzzle.

Not that there even was a puzzle. Or, rather, no – yes – there was a puzzle and it was complete and it was glued on the wall in front of Yang’s face and Yang was seeing it for the first time like an idiot.

This wasn’t the first time Blake got Yang’s food for her. No, Blake had been doing this for…well, several months now.

And Yang had thought nothing of it. It wasn’t like Blake had made a huge thing out of it, either. It wasn’t like it was even a big thing at all. Yang had just been thankful, thought it was nice of Blake to do that for her every now and then, especially because over time, Blake had gotten better and better at getting exactly what Yang wanted with various meals. And then it’d become…just part of the everyday routine, even if Yang tried to still remind Blake she didn’t have to keep doing that.

“It's alright. I get my own meal at the same time, anyway.”

That was always Blake’s reply. Or some variation of it.

But now, context made an entire world of difference. Because maybe a friend would do something like that occasionally. Yang had done it for Blake sometimes, after all – picked up the faunus’ favorite drink or snack while getting her own. But it had rarely just been for Blake alone. Yang would usually get Ruby’s and even Weiss’ at the same time, too. And it wasn’t like Blake didn’t do that for the others sometimes, either – because she did – but Yang was the only one Blake regularly brought entire meals for, picked exactly the way Yang liked.

The back of Yang’s neck felt hot with guilt all of a sudden, that she hadn’t noticed the extent of this mark of care sooner.

But there was something else. Something that made Yang feel warm in a different way, somewhere in her chest, and her leg started jittering under the table with nervous energy needing an outlet.

“What do you think, Yang?”

Yang blinked up at Ruby, trying to recall what her brain had only been partially listening to. She creased her eyebrows. “Uh. Civilians? Civilians.”

Ruby’s eyes widened and she slapped her hand over her mouth to muffle a snicker.

“You didn’t hear the question, did you?” Weiss asked with an eyeroll.

“I was thinking…very hard…about our work.” But upon noticing that nobody was buying it, Yang chuckled and gave up. It was a real weak attempt anyway. “Okay, what was the question again?”

“It was ‘In case of a terrorist attack, who should be taken care of first? The terrorists, the grimm, or the civilians?’”

Yang was suddenly caught between squinting and fighting the monumental urge to glance at Blake. She clenched her left hand over her jittering leg, trying to still it herself, wondering if this question was new since the attack on Beacon. “Okay, listen, to be fair, that’s a trick question if I ever heard one. ‘Taken care of’ could mean different things.”

“But if you’d listened to the context,” Blake started, “then you’d know to say ‘grimm.’”

And Yang did look at her that time. Checking. She hadn’t sounded accusatory. She didn’t look accusatory, either. No, Blake was impossible to read, her face a blank mask of calm. Maybe the situation described in the context was different than what they’d lived.

But Blake turned away from Yang before the blonde could reply and stood up. “Sorry, but I’ll meet you guys in class.” And then she grabbed her mostly untouched food platter and walked off.

Yang saw Weiss and Ruby exchange confused looks, and when they switched their attention to Yang like she would know what that was about, Yang could only weakly shrug. She took her wrap and dipped it in the sauce on the side and had a bite. She suddenly didn’t feel very hungry, either, even if the food was good. But Blake had made the effort to get all of this for her – the least she could do was eat it.

Maybe if the situation wasn’t so…complicated, Yang would have gone off after Blake to make sure she was okay. But as much as Yang felt torn over watching the gap between them deepen, she didn’t want to cause Blake more heartache by forcing her to deal with Yang trying to comfort her.

Yang still found her gaze shifting to catch Blake leave the cafeteria through the double doors. Her stomach tied itself in knots.

What if I still want to be close to you?

“Hey, can I ask you guys something?”

“You can always ask us anything, Yang,” Pyrrha said with a smile, putting her shoes into her locker.

Yang crossed her arms and leaned her shoulder on the one next to Pyrrha’s. “So, you know how Jaune was really dense about figuring out you liked him?”

From the bench, Jaune immediately groaned and slapped his forehead while motioning at Pyrrha’s…everything. “But did you see her? And I was supposed to think this – this maiden could maybe give me the time of day?”

Pyrrha laughed and affectionately swept her fingers through her boyfriend’s hair, which caused him to redden and smile. She set a more serious look on Yang, though, saying with an amused sigh, “Yes, I do know how that went. Can’t believe it took a kiss in the middle of a tragedy. Why are you bringing that up?”

Yang stared down at the floor. “Well, uh…” She looked up at the ceiling and then set her gaze on Jaune. “So, if you didn’t know she liked you, was it weird after to try and decide if you wanted to be with her?”

Jaune creased his eyebrows and continued tying the laces on his shoes as he thought. “I…don’t think it was weird, no…”

“To be fair, we were all dealing with the aftermath of the attack on Beacon,” Pyrrha provided helpfully.

Jaune nodded, still looking intent. “Yeah, it wasn’t like there had been time or even an opportunity for a while for us to talk about it.” He paused, shared a look with Pyrrha, and added, “I don’t think there even ever really was a conversation. We just…”

“…fell into each other,” Pyrrha finished with a tender smile towards Jaune.

Yang was suddenly torn between laughing, teasing, and gagging. Somehow, she managed all three. “Wow, ew, you’re so cute it’s gross. Where’s the toilet?”

“Hey, you asked us,” Jaune rebutted with a chuckle, hands on his knees as he stood up from the bench.

Yang rolled her eyes, but she grinned. “Give me more details! But not too many details.”

“What is it you’re asking, exactly, Yang?” Pyrrha wondered.

This was so hard. Yang had never been great with finding the right way to express herself through words. And, really, she wasn’t even entirely sure what she was trying to gain out of this conversation. Perspective, maybe? A solution? She shrugged, frowning, and tried, “Well, did you like her back already, Jaune? How did you…I don’t know. How could you just fall into each other?”

“Well, I mean, I definitely had a lot of respect and admiration for her, but I don’t think I’d, like, allowed myself to feel more because I didn’t think she felt more.” Jaune took Pyrrha’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “But then we kept being there for each other and knowing that she loved me just made it easy, I guess. But it wasn’t ever like a conscious decision. It kinda just happened over time.”

Pyrrha leaned towards Jaune and gave him a light kiss on the cheek. “Worth the wait.”

Yang groaned. “Ughhh, you’re disgusting.” She still smiled, though, and shook her head as she went to her own locker to get her textbooks out of it. “Anyway, I gotta go. Ruby’s gonna flip if I start missing shadowing hours.” And I can’t force Blake to wait for me. Yang started heading out of the locker room, tossing over her shoulder, “Thanks for the chat. Now get a room.”

“You’re welcome!”

That was Pyrrha. Always so polite. Yang grinned and shook her head again as the door closed behind her.

Upon entering the dorm room, Yang saw Blake just finishing with the buttons going up the side of her black vest. Something atop the faunus’ head leaned backwards. She hadn’t covered her cat ears yet. Blake only gave Yang a glance as she smoothed out her top, and then went to put her other pair of clothes in the laundry basket near the bathroom. “Glad you’re here. I thought I’d have to leave without you.”

Yang shut the door and averted her gaze from Blake’s head. As cute as the cat ears were, Yang knew Blake didn’t like the staring. “Sorry. I needed to talk with Pyrrha and Jaune for a sec. I’ll hurry up.” She immediately went to their shared walk-in closet in search of the outfit she wanted to wear while following another huntsmen duo around in the woods. Some cargo pants and a jacket over a tank top seemed fitting enough. She shimmied out of her uniform as fast as she could.

When Yang remerged from the walk-in, Blake was sitting on the corner of Weiss’ desk, waiting for Yang. Quiet. Impassive. She’d already put on a wide, dark purple band over her head, once more concealing her cat ears.

“I’m almost ready. Just need, uh…” Yang’s voice trailed off as she checked the two drawers that belonged to her. She needed her motorbike keys. She and Blake would take an airship down to Vale, and then head out to the outskirts of town to meet with the two huntsmen. Normally, they’d have just taken a taxi if they were going anywhere in town, but this was different, and a taxi was inconvenient for patrols.

“Did you leave your clothes lying on the floor in there again?” Blake wondered, but she did sound vaguely amused.

“Maaaaybe.”

Yang was about to go pick up after herself, but then Blake stood from Weiss’ desk and said, “I got it. Keep looking for whatever it is you’re looking for.”

Yang chuckled sheepishly. “Thanks, Blake. And I’m looking for Bumblebee’s keys.” But searching through the knickknacks and junk in her drawers did not produce the keys with the bee keychain on them. She sighed, frustrated, because at this rate they’d either miss the airship or be forced to deal with a taxi anyway. And it’d be her fault for being so disorganized.

She started checking her pockets before going digging in her backpack, looking in every little storage compartment she could find. Still no keys.

Yang turned and was about to announce the bad news to Blake, but instead she saw Blake standing over by the door, a small black and yellow insect made of metal dangling from her fingers. “You mean these?”

“Oh my gods,” Yang groaned and came over to the grab the keys from Blake’s hand. Their fingers brushed, but they both quickly pulled away. “Where were they? How’d you find them?”

“You left them in your pocket from last time. They fell out when I was putting our clothes in the washer, so I put them on the keyholder.” Blake’s eyes glanced at the said holder on the wall by the door, directly next to them. The one very obvious place Yang hadn’t even thought to check.

Yang set her gaze back on Blake. Blinking. This was the moment she’d sweep Blake into an appreciative hug – because Yang was literally useless without Blake these days, apparently. But she paused before she even leaned forward.

Had it really come to this? Yang hadn’t even realized how much she’d begun relying on Blake to be a functional adult. There were so many – so many – things that Yang had struggled with back home on Patch during the first several months without her right arm. The prosthetic was a gift she’d received a bit later on, but everything from doing chores to tinkering in the garage had become an incredibly frustrating, depressing, and sometimes impossible challenge as she learned to use only her left hand for the smallest tasks.

And a lot of good habits she’d had slipped away because, for a while, she’d given up on trying. Her dad had still been around to pick up some of the slack, and Ruby was home sometimes, too, but Yang didn’t like her dad helping and Ruby wasn’t used to being the adult in the house. And, as Blake liked to gently tease her about, Yang had a little worm in her brain wiggling around, so being organized wasn’t Yang’s strong suite in the first place.

So, yeah, she was forgetful sometimes. A lot of times.

But here was Blake, keeping Yang’s life from being a total disaster, little gesture by little gesture without ever saying a word, without ever truly reproaching Yang a single one of her failures.

Man, it’s hot in here.

Specifically, behind her eyes.

And Yang wasn’t sure it was even okay to hug Blake anymore. “I –” She swallowed hard. Her hand went up, wanting to touch Blake’s arm, but Blake followed the motion with her eyes, and there was pain there, so Yang clenched her fist and brought it back down to her side. “Thank you, Blake,” Yang murmured, and she heard the roughness in her own voice. “You’re really awesome.”

Blake looked down. “Thanks.” The muscles in her jaw worked, and then she said more firmly, “We should go. Do you have everything you need?”

Yang hesitated, hurt by how closed off Blake was being. She didn’t want this. Neither of them did, that much Yang could tell. But it wasn’t really fair to Blake to keep acting as if her feelings didn’t long for more, as if she hadn’t confessed to being in love with Yang just four days ago, was it?

But, what if…

What if I did actually let her love me? Could I love her back?

Yang took stock of her things, and then huffed a sigh and nodded. Her palms were uncomfortably clammy. “Yeah, I got everything. How about you?”

Blake opened the door and stood back to let Yang through first. “I do. Let’s go.”

“Okay.”

When the week reached its end, Yang decided she couldn’t go on like this anymore, questioning everything, holding back how she felt, dealing with these heavy silences that filled the space between her and Blake where there used to be easy chatter and companionship. She hated the awkwardness, how they tiptoed around each other, how there seemed to be so much left unsaid in every little thing Blake did say – so much concealed behind the forced lack of anything meaningful.

It messed with Yang’s head, and Blake was on her mind every other hour of every day because everything reminded Yang of how integral Blake was to her life now that she wasn’t. Not in the way she used to be, at least.

They needed to talk. Yang needed to talk.

They had to figure something out.

And when Yang asked Blake to go on a walk with her that evening after the last busy day of the week, Blake seemed to understand the reason why. She was hesitant, apprehensive, but she agreed. She followed Yang out without protesting.

They were quiet for a while. Walking side by side without talking, just enjoying the end-of-the-day fresh air and the quietness that came with fewer students being out at this time. It helped Yang’s nerves, somewhat, but she still couldn’t figure out how to start this conversation.

Maybe it was better to just chat about other things, see if there would be a more natural flow into it. But for once, Yang’s brain wasn’t going a mile a minute with thoughts and ideas shoving into each other, hoping to win the race for attention.

Convenient.

She stuffed her hands in her pockets.

“Are you going back to Patch with Ruby for the summer?” Blake eventually wondered, and the extending of that olive branch came as a huge relief to Yang.

She jumped on the opportunity to talk about something normal. “Yeah. Dad misses us. And I know Ruby will want to see her friends from Signal.”

There was a brief pause. Then Yang saw Blake glance at her. “What about you?”

“What about me?”

“What are you going to do? How do you feel?”

Yang shrugged. She hadn’t been expecting Blake to dig further, to want to know about Yang, specifically. Which – she should have figured. “Uh, I dunno. I guess I’m looking forward to driving Bumblebee again. Seeing Zwei. Playing normal sports. Not having to sit forever and ever.”

The comment made Blake laugh, quiet and short-lived – but it was a laugh nonetheless, and Yang grinned.

“Like you have ants in your pants,” came the amused reply, and Blake bumped Yang’s shoulder with her own.

Yang laughed then, too, but – there it was. Blake initiating physical affection. She hadn’t noticed herself do it that time. But Yang noticed. Big time. The hands in her pockets suddenly felt heavy and like separate entities from her body. She didn’t know what to do with them. Especially the stupid metal one. Was it even in her pocket? She glanced down. Yes, it was. Obviously. Obviously.

“Are you…okay?”

“Uh, yeah!” Yang tried a smile, knew she didn’t sound convincing at all. This is your chance. Take it, ya dimwit. “Just, uh…” But no words came to mind, yet again. She ended up just motioning uselessly in the air, the weakest attempt ever to explain nothing sensical. And then she decided to just keep on with their previous subject before things got awkward. “I mean, I do miss my dad, kinda. But not when he’s trying to make up for the past. He’s gotten better about it, though.” Not what I wanted to say. Blargh.

Blake was silent for a moment or two, as if thinking about Yang’s…whatever that was. Then, she asked, “Is going back to Patch what you’d actually like to do? Or are you just going for Ruby’s sake?”

“I…” Yang creased her eyebrows and stared down at her boots as they walked. How had Blake even pinpointed that? Yang hadn’t so much as offered a hint about it. At least, she didn’t think she had. Both girls slowed their pace, and Yang ended up just shrugging again. “I don’t know. It’s not like I really have anything else I’d rather do. Or that I’m not happy to stick with Ruby. Because I am happy to do that. So.” There was a tightening in her chest, though, and Yang didn’t want to start thinking about things, so she looked over at Blake and asked, “What about you? Are you…gonna go back to Menagerie again?”

It was Blake’s turn to hesitate. But she sighed and said, “I thought about it. I’m still thinking about it. I spent so much time trying to deal with the White Fang over there last year, and the problem hasn’t gone yet, but I have a friend taking care of things now. I’m not sure what I’d rather do – fight the White Fang in Menagerie or fight grimm here in the area around Vale.”

“Do you…have to fight? What if you just…relaxed?” But Yang already knew the answer to that question. This was Blake, after all. Blake never stopped. As long as there was something left to do, Blake felt it was her obligation to do it.

And Blake proved Yang right by smiling sadly and saying, “I can’t. Until I forgive myself, I can’t.”

“So, forgive yourself. Just do it.”

Blake laughed again, but this time it was humorless. “I suppose it should just be that easy, shouldn’t it? But…” and her gaze had wandered farther forward, fixing on something with regret.

Yang followed her line of site, already knowing what she’d find.

In the light of the setting sun, there stood a metal statue, a monument, a reminder of the attack on Beacon, right there in the middle of Beacon’s reconstructed courtyard. It depicted four hunters – two human, two faunus – fighting side by side, back to back, expressions grim, clothes ripped and wounds marring their smooth features, but united together. Pyrrha was one of them, standing in a low and fierce battle stance, Akouo raised in front of her with Milo pulled back, ready to strike.

Blake and Yang approached it slowly. Neither saying a word. The slight breeze lifted strands of their hair before letting them fall again, tugged gently at their clothes. It wasn’t Yang’s first time seeing it, and she knew it wasn’t Blake’s, either. But, somehow, they’d never stood here in front of it together, just the two of them. And…

It hit differently like this.

Yang swallowed hard, and Blake’s eyes immediately found hers as the blonde admitted quietly, “They asked me. If I wanted to be one of the hunters represented here.” She kicked the cement ground idly.

“I…take it you said no.”

“I didn’t say anything. Never wrote back. I guess that’s as good as a no.” She looked back up at the representation of Pyrrha, chuckled a bit. “Pyrrha didn’t really want to, either. She said she’d told them to ask the others on their list, that she’d accept if nobody else was willing.” Yang shook her head. “‘People feel hope when they see their heroes,’ she’d said.” She held out her hands, stared at the obvious differences between her flesh palm and her metal one. She clenched her fists, shook her head with another chuckle. “I don’t remember being a hero.”

There was a silence between them, the air stilling as if on cue, and then Blake’s hand gently touched Yang’s left bicep before retreating again. Yang raised her eyes, tried to meet Blake’s gaze. She managed it, if only for a few seconds, but the sorrow and care she saw shimmering there was too much to keep holding.

“My name is on that plaque,” Blake murmured, soft, filled with guilt, and Yang looked over at the flat copper surface adorning the base of the statue where over a hundred names were carved. “‘Blake Belladonna.’ As if I did any kind of good that day. As if I didn’t, through Adam, lead the White Fang straight here. As if I didn’t abandon you.” And now she stood in front of Yang instead of beside her, drawing her gaze yet again. “What you did, who you are – you’re a hero to me.”

And, yet again, Yang had to break the eye-contact, stare down at her own feet. Had Blake always been this honest about how she felt? This…forward? Or maybe she wasn’t being forward? Yang didn’t know what this was anymore. “Blake…I think I do want to be with you.”

Blake froze. Because, obviously – and Yang cringed at herself – Yang had blurted that out of nowhere. It didn’t feel like nowhere, but it totally was. Blake ended up taking a step back. Set her gaze on Yang. Apprehensive. Searching. “I thought we already had this conversation.”

“We said we’d talk.”

Blake closed her eyes, just a few seconds, but Yang saw the twitch of her brow, the stiffness of her shoulders. She opened her eyes again, took a breath, and spoke carefully. “I don’t…understand, Yang. You don’t like women that way. I can’t make you happy. Your insistence is confusing and hurtful.”

Heat crept up the back of Yang’s neck. She found her hand going to her nape to massage the tension there. “And I’m telling you, Blake, that I think maybe you can.”

“What –”

“You’ve been pulling away from me this week,” Yang powered on, still internally cringing, but she needed to say this. Her heart was pounding way too hard. “I’m not stupid. I see the choice you’re making – the choice you’re making for both of us, by the way. Maybe I’d like to be included in stuff that involves me.”

Blake took another step back, as if Yang had given her a shove. She looked for all the world like maybe Yang actually had, eyes wide and hurt. “I – I’m sorry, Yang. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. But I have to figure out how to move on.” There was a look that passed over her features, something entirely too heartbreaking with how much pain and guilt flashed there, but Blake didn’t cry. She firmed her expression and finished in a murmur, “I just need some time.”

“No, Blake –” Yang stopped, mind racing in trying to figure out what to say, how to make herself be heard. Blake’s stubbornness was one of her greatest assets when it mattered, but right now it was definitely getting in the way of their communication.

Yang approached Blake and put her hands on the faunus’ shoulders so Blake would look at her. “Blake. I’m not uncomfortable. I –” Yang swallowed hard and, in case it was making Blake uncomfortable, removed her hands from her partner’s shoulders to stuff them in her pockets instead. “I don’t know about other women, but I don’t want this distance with you. I’ve just – I’ve been realizing how you show me your love, and not having that anymore is –” Yang interrupted herself again, because, “ugh, no, that makes me sound so selfish.” She paced to the side, running her non-metal hand through her hair roughly. “I said it really dumbly at the beach, but I mean it this time. I’m literally trying to tell you that I want to try being with you and you’re basically telling me that I don’t.”

Blake blinked. Looked very unsure for a moment by the tilt of her head, one hand moving as if to reach for Yang before deciding against it. She opened her mouth like she was going to say something as well but then closed it again. She took another breath. “You really want to be in a relationship. With me.”

Yang creased her eyebrows and let out a short sigh before giving one, firm nod. “Yes. I do.”

And Blake just stood there in silence still, eyes darting over Yang, searching intently. Yang almost feared she’d have to keep trying to convince Blake to believe her, didn’t know how long she was willing to keep going in circles, but then the stiffness gradually faded from Blake’s shoulders. The faunus nodded slowly, looking down at the ground while exhaling long and low. “Okay… Okay. Um.” She met Yang’s stare. “I… This is a lot. I wasn’t prepared for… Anyway. Can I have some time to process?”

Huh? Prepared for what? “Yeah, sure. Just…please don’t keep pulling away from me? It’s okay, you know. The way you’ve been touching me and everything. It’s not weird.” And…it’s special, when it’s you.

Maybe she should say that out loud.

But those words got stuck in her throat.

Even without them, though, there – finally – there it was. Blake’s small, crooked smile, one corner of her mouth tilting higher than the other. There was still uncertainty there, but she said with a slight shake of her head, “I’ll keep it in mind.”

Yang couldn’t help but beam in response – because that sounded like an answer heading towards a positive outcome. And wanting to prove that she meant it, wanting to encourage Blake to be normal about it again – and even more than that, wanting the reassurance – Yang wrapped her arms around Blake and gave her a fierce hug.

Blake was stiff only for a second, taken by surprise. But then she exhaled and relaxed, her arms coming around Yang, too, under her arms, cradling Yang’s back just like she always did, and Yang closed her eyes, holding Blake’s svelte form tighter.

Gently, Yang felt Blake scratch her jacket on her shoulder blade. Nudge her nose against Yang’s collar. Idle. Affectionate.

Was that Blake’s heart beating so fast?

Yang didn’t want to lose this. The way Blake showed her love so far brought Yang so much support and security, made her feel so cared about, all of it in such subtle but effective ways, and it made Yang a little curious to find out what more Blake had to offer – because she couldn’t imagine the bottom of that pond was even close to being reached.

Yang wanted to learn. Wanted to explore. Wanted to try bringing Blake as much happiness as Blake brought Yang. Maybe it was naïve of her, maybe it was overly optimistic, maybe Blake was completely justified in being cautious, if not outright skeptical. But Yang wanted to try. For both of them.

For this warmth in her chest, for the racing heart in Blake’s own.

She squeezed one more time and then carefully pulled away from the embrace. Met Blake’s shining eyes with a mischievous smile. “Wake me up in the morning?”

Blake immediately scoffed and gave Yang’s shoulder a light push, which caused Yang to devolve into giggles. “I see what this is about now,” Blake tossed over her shoulder as she started walking away. “The audacity you have.”

Yang laughed harder and quickly caught up with her partner. “Wait – it’s not what you think.”

This time, Blake actually joined Yang in her laughing. “Uh-huh. Dig deeper, let’s hear it.”

Yang tried her absolute darndest to keep a straight face, but she ended up making a noise through her nose with the effort it took to suppress her amusement. “It has to be at six sharp!” And then she cackled more.

Blake snickered right along with her. Fingers brushing Yang’s sleeve. “Oh, Yang.”

And Yang heard it in her tone that time. Unabashedly affectionate.

I love you.

HERE ARE THE BLOOPERS/OUTTAKES FROM CHAPTER 2'S AUDIO:

Chapter Text

This was turning out to be one of the nicest drawings Blake had ever made. Which was surprising because of how she’d started it as just a sketch without any real guidelines, and Blake didn’t usually trust herself to make anything pretty without structure. But she had her pencil set and a proper eraser now, and after correcting a couple off-looking lines and light shading, a sense of growing pride had Blake focusing on her work more intently.

She had earbuds in her ears, listening to soft orchestral rock, occasionally bobbing her head or humming quietly with the melody. It was pleasant, being outside with the warm breeze and the sun, taking this small break from academy responsibilities to enjoy her solitude. These moments were few and far between, where she wasn’t distancing herself out of self-doubt and guilt, but just liking the down time.

And liking this drawing of Yang, too, honestly, of which she’d actually managed to capture her favorite parts in an almost spitting image fashion. Blake paused in her work, marveled at how she’d even been able to do it – those laugh lines and twinkles, the messy hair, the carefree pose.

It didn’t feel so wrong now, doing this, after that conversation she and Yang had at the beginning of the weekend.

Gods. It was bittersweet.

Blake still couldn’t wrap her mind around it. Yang genuinely wanted to try being in a relationship with her. It was...there just weren’t any words. As much as Blake longed for Yang, she hadn’t ever dreamed of being in this situation. She hadn’t imagined any confession scenarios ending well – or even imagined confession scenarios at all, it had just happened – hadn’t entertained hypothetical romantic settings with Yang, hadn’t, in any kind of way, allowed herself to hope or wonder past a fleeting touch what it might be like, being with Yang more intimately. There just hadn’t been a point. Useless torture.

And so now she just didn’t know what to do. The door was open but everything beyond the frame was new and scary and made of glass.

Anything could break. Anything could cut. But it was pretty. And the reflections had color, like maybe somewhere, if Blake found the courage to venture forth, there was more to discover. Maybe.

It all depended on Yang, didn’t it?

For now, Blake continued shading in the leathered texture of Yang’s jacket with a small sigh. She felt a mix of emotions, doubts and insecurities still heavily clouding the flickers of wonder, but…maybe this had to be the first step. As difficult as it was.

And then, as if on cue, “Whatchya drawing there, Bl… Oh.”

By the time Yang’s disbelief was out of her mouth, she’d already plopped down next to her partner.

Blake tore the earphones out of her ears, felt her cat ones flatten even harder against her head despite being under a band as she tried to hide her drawing by bringing it closer to her chest. “It’s, um, just…nothing. It’s nothing.”

Yang blinked, eyes wide and way too innocent. “That definitely wasn’t nothing. Looked like a whole lotta something, actually. Can I see it again?”

Blake searched Yang’s face, intently trying to find any hint of anger or judgement or tonally-deaf mischief.

But then she remembered that this was Yang. Not…somebody else.

Hesitantly, Blake let out a slow breath and lowered her pad so Yang could see the drawing again. The blonde leaned closer, shoulder against Blake’s, and the round innocence in her gaze became round shock. “I – whoa. Blake, this is…” She seemed at a loss for words for a moment before there was a flash of something in her expression, something that looked…almost like hurt? But it was quickly gone, replaced with open curiosity that teetered on concern in the crease of her brow as she raised her eyes to meet Blake’s. “Is this how you see me?”

“What…do you mean?”

Yang blinked a couple times, back and forth between the drawing and Blake. “Well, like…I dunno.” She laughed, airy, leaning away again and ruffling her hair a bit with an uneasy shrug. “Uh, just…I guess I don’t remember looking that good? I mean!” And now her expression was definitely fighting some kind of war over on the confident front, pushing the boundary into nervous territory. “I know I look smokin’ hot, obviously, but this is…not the same?”

“I…” Blake tried so hard to understand what Yang was trying to explain. Unfortunately, this was a matter of perspective and Blake was nervous, too. “Is it…bad?”

Yang was fast to backpedal. “No! No, gods, it’s a really nice drawing. Thank you for letting me see it. You just…made me look so happy and kind. Like…warm instead of hot, ya know?”

Oh. I see now. Blake took another breath, allowed herself to relax just a little more. She admitted, “I do see you like that. Like sunshine.”

Yang was quiet. Contemplative. Her eyebrows creased even more. “But…you know I haven’t really been like that much these days, Blake.”

“You have to me. That’s how I feel.”

It was…surreal how Blake could just say things like this now. That the secret was out, and Blake could be honest instead of hiding behind silences and noncommittal non-answers. Still, as Yang leaned further away to cross her legs and set the back of her head against the tree behind them, Blake wondered if she was being too forward, if maybe total honesty wasn’t the best policy right at the moment.

And, while she was at it…maybe this wasn’t the best choice at all, if Yang was already uncomfortable. Blake hoped she wasn’t, but whether she did it consciously or not, Yang had definitely just put physical distance between them after Blake’s admission.

And that looked like a nice, bright red stop sign.

“I guess I can’t really argue with that,” Yang finally chuckled with another shrug.

There was a pause. The wind blew gently, rustling the leaves, the sun shining through the branches and casting leopard spots and tiger stripes across Yang’s lightly freckled skin and gold curls. Blake caught herself staring and immediately stopped, instead deciding to put her papers and pencils away into her bag on her other side with a bit of a sigh.

“Whatchya doing?”

Blake hesitated, then said as she continued, “Getting ready to head back, I suppose.”

“Huh? Why?”

She leaned forward with her bag on her lap and dared to meet the soft lilac of Yang’s irises. Yang, who looked so curious and still vaguely hurt. Blake creased her eyebrows. “You want me to stay?”

Yang looked to the left and right, unsure, and shrugged a bit. “Well, I mean, if you want to leave, I won’t stop you, but…I dunno. I thought we were having a conversation.”

“Oh.” Blake felt her ears – all four of them – warm up. “Um. Right. What else were you going to say?”

“Uh…” Yang laughed a bit and then sat straighter, scooting around to better face Blake. “Well, I did want to check in with you. Kinda still feels like we’re in limbo since you didn’t specifically say yes to me yet – about being in a relationship, I mean. Not that I assumed you were gonna say yes! But also you haven’t been pulling away much anymore, either, so I don’t really know where that leaves us.”

Blake hesitated again, looked down at the grass for a moment. It was true that she hadn’t given Yang a clear answer. And she could imagine that the uncertainty wasn’t something that made Yang feel very good. It wasn’t like Blake had been doing it on purpose; as far as she was concerned, Blake had thought the general agreement was that she needed time to think. And she did – think, that was. She needed to switch her entire mindset. Because suddenly her reality wasn’t You can’t go there, stop, just move on already, what’s wrong with you? but rather Blake, it’s okay to start trying.

Except, of course, there was the very real possibility that it actually wasn’t.

Blake took a breath. “Yang, you’ve been in a couple relationships before. I’ve been in one, too – a bad one, but still.” She lowered her head. “I don’t know what your expectations are, and, um, I’m willing to be patient and take things slow –” Gods only know I’d move Remnant’s sky and earth for you, “– but, also…” Blake allowed herself to exhale. She glanced at Yang briefly before focusing on her hands, realizing how cold her fingers felt. They did that when she was nervous. It felt wrong, expressing this. “…I would want more than hugs. Eventually.” She winced. Squeezed her own fingers, anticipating a bad reaction. Maybe, even, it’d make Yang wake up and realize that a relationship between them wasn’t going to work out.

But there was a serious expression that came over Yang’s face, like she was really thinking about Blake’s words. It would have been adorable if Blake hadn’t been so stressed. “Yeah, I get what you mean.” Yang rubbed her bicep, just above her prosthetic – but whether it was causing her discomfort or she was just awkward was unclear. She smiled tentatively. “I do like physical affection a lot. I’d often be the one going for it. It’s – hey, why’re you smiling?”

Blake tried to wipe the small tilt of her lips off her own face with her hand, but failed. “Sorry. It’s just – I know. That you like physical affection. I see how you are with Ruby. And you’re up in my space more than anybody else is, too.”

Like carefully adding sticks and turning over the logs in a hearth, Yang’s physical marks of care had done nothing but continue the burning of Blake’s heart. So many times, Blake should have told Yang to stop. So many times, the pain never out-seared the comfort and warmth.

So Blake had said nothing.

The comment made Yang laugh again. Her cheeks got redder, too. “Okay, so there! It’s why I got really bummed out when I realized you stopped all the little touches.”

Blake’s heart somewhat accelerated in her chest. That didn’t sound like a rejection in any kind of way. And it had been like slowly tearing away half of herself trying to create physical distance with her favorite space heater, too, but…

She lost her smile.

Yang also wasn’t providing the kind of response Blake was needing. She didn’t think Yang was purposely avoiding the point, more like maybe Yang still wasn’t understanding. And Blake couldn’t do this if Yang didn’t get it. She shifted uneasily. “Okay, but…think about the future. Think about me. Think about yourself. Can you imagine any setting in which you’d be comfortable being more than just close friends and work partners with me?”

Because you can say you want to be with me all you want, but…

That was what Blake had needed to think about – the very thing she’d been forcing herself not to think about with Yang all this time. But the faunus had let herself imagine it, just for these past few days – haltingly, exploring the what-ifs – and she knew, from the distressed pull of her heart to the longing ache in her belly, that if this was going to work in the long-term, Blake would want and need so much more.

And with how this conversation was going, it all only seemed to be getting farther and farther from possible.

Yang’s face scrunched up into something between confusion and worry. “I don’t really know how that’s supposed to work, Blake. Obviously if I try to think about kissing you right now, that’s too much. But I don’t want to lose you and I still want to be close to you. Pretty sure I’d be okay with holding your hand or having my arm around your waist or something. But –”

“Yang. You being okay with something doesn’t imply you enjoying it or also wanting it. I told you already – all I care about is you being happy. And, I’m sorry, but if the most you’re going to do is tolerate more affection between us, then that’s not something I’m interested in.” Blake’s shoulders slumped, turning her head away as she added in a quieter breath, “…And if you really thought about it, I’m sure you’re not interested in it, either.”

She swallowed hard and started rearranging the band over her cat ears, but it was only to hide the fact that her throat was tightening up and that her eyes were burning. Yang hadn’t said anything yet, either, so while doing her best to keep the roughness from her voice, Blake decided to continue, “I might be hopeless, but I’m not so desperate that I’d be okay with my significant other just going through the motions without actually being into me. At the very least, I have too much respect for you to let that happen.”

Yang seemed…stricken. Her eyes were wide, her face was red, and she opened her mouth as if she finally had an answer, but then she closed it again. She suddenly got up to her feet, walked a few steps away, the wind bellowing her hair into a stunning mess, and Blake was afraid she’d just leave. That that would be the end, right here, right now, of their tiny-barely-there attempt at being a couple.

And Blake didn’t have it in her to stop it from happening. What would even be the point? There was nothing solid about glass, and some of the edges were already jagged and broken.

But then Yang clenched her fists, paced for a second, and then turned around to come sit beside Blake again. Her expression was firm, determined. She passed her fingers through her thick locks to get it back into its purposely-disheveled style. “Why are you trying to scare me away?”

“I’m not trying to do that.” Blake leaned forward, tension creeping up her neck as she forced herself to keep her tone low. She swallowed with difficulty. Her heart was beating so fast, some primal instinct twisting her guts and making her want to run from this conversation. But she couldn’t. Not this. Not from Yang – not ever again. “I’m being realistic. I don’t want to date you just for fun for two years and then call it quits when we finish our training. I…I would spend my life with you, Yang, if this somehow works.”

“Okay, so then – uh, okay, wow – I mean, sorry, that was big – but it’s okay! But what I’m trying to say is that we take it one step at a time!” Still red in the face, Yang shrugged and raised her hands like it was obvious, somehow. Somehow. “We’re not there yet, in the future. We’re right here, still trying to figure out how to even freaking talk to each other about this. I’m willing, wanting, to keep trying to make it work, but, like, I also just gotta go with the flow, you know?”

“Yang, I –” Blake clenched her jaw. Closed her eyes for a moment. She focused on her breathing, brought her thighs up to her chest and rested her forehead on her knees, arms wrapped around her calves. Her hands felt so clammy. “I need a bit of time to think about it,” she murmured. “And I’m not saying we stop trying…this – whatever it is –but I can’t continue this conversation right now.”

Blake didn’t even need to look at Yang to see her deflate – she almost felt the sagging of her shoulders, and a part of Blake ached at causing Yang this disappointment, this lack of a satisfactory ending or solution to their problem.

“Fine,” Yang sighed shortly, and rested her head back against the tree trunk behind them. There was a pause. The wind rustled the leaves above, made small shadows and lights dance over them. Blake managed to raise her head only a little, enough to put her chin on her knees and stare out towards Beacon’s courtyard, before Yang spoke up again. “You knew the others and JNPR are going out tonight, right?”

Blake winced. “No, I didn’t. Where are they going?”

“Well, I mean, I’m going, too. And I’d like it if you came with me. It’s a nightclub. The place opened up not too long ago.”

A nightclub. That sounded like a problem and a half. And Yang knew Blake’s issue with it. “Do I…have to go?”

“No, of course not, Blake. But it would mean a lot to me if you came.”

There it was again. Specifying me, with that hopeful sparkle in lilac irises, like Blake’s presence really mattered to Yang – which, if there was anything Blake should have gotten into her own thick head a good two years ago by now, it was at least that. And Blake was a little, a lot, helpless against it. “Okay. Then I’ll go with you.”

Yang tried a beam, bumped Blake’s shoulder with her own. “Awesome. It’s gonna be a lot of fun. And, worse case, if the music gets too much for you, then we can leave together.”

“You don’t have to do that, Yang.”

“Yes, I do. You’re coming because I asked, the least I can do is be supportive back at you.”

Blake rolled her eyes, but the corner of her mouth lifted slightly. “Alright. I’ll accept that.”

Yang laughed a bit. “Good! Also, I see that smile, so that’s one point for me already.”

Blake allowed herself to smile a bit wider, slowly shook her head. “How about you tell me what time we’re going instead of…” being way too sweet and adorable “…trying to make me feel better?”

Yang scoffed, but she took her scroll out of her pocket and looked at the time. “We have a couple hours. I think we’re gonna eat first. Ruby might start looking for us soon, though.”

“Then I suppose we shouldn’t let our fearless leader search all over Beacon for her missing teammates.” Blake forced herself out of the ball she was in, got to her feet with the same effort it took to battle her low motivation for this. She wanted to keep drawing and listen to music more, think about the things Yang had said. But if this meant a lot to the blonde, then Blake would give it her best shot. She offered her hand to Yang.

Yang grinned and gripped it, and Blake helped haul her up until they were standing face to face. She was taken with the urge to hug Yang, rest the side of her head against Yang’s shoulder, but she supressed the want for closeness and instead just gave Yang’s fingers a light squeeze before letting go. “Thank you. For not insisting.”

“I mean, I do still want to finish that conversation at some point. Seemed kind of important. But you’re welcome, I won’t force you to talk about things you don’t wanna talk about.”

Blake nodded, felt her cat ears straining against the bow so they could lean backwards. She did not deserve Yang’s kindness. “I know. Just give me a day or two.”

“Okay. I will. Do you want to help me choose the outfit I should wear for tonight?”

“Oh. I don’t even know what I’m going to wear.” Clubbing hadn’t exactly been on Blake’s mind when she’d been packing for her return to huntress-training at Beacon. She felt a pit of dread in her stomach at being so entirely underprepared for social events.

Yang giggled. “We’ll figure something out. I can help you, too. C’mon!”

Blake slowly shook her head again but nevertheless started following Yang. Side by side, they made their way back to the academy and towards the dorm they shared with Ruby and Weiss.

As it turned out, Yang had also not been thinking about clubbing when she’d packed for Beacon. Blake had followed her into the shared walk-in closet, and as they’d begun looking through the blonde’s clothes, it had become clear she didn’t have anything that gave off immediate party vibes.

Blake couldn’t help the twinge of guilt and regret in her chest.

Things are so different from our first year.

Still, they decided to improvise outfits for them both. Yang helped Blake opt for a pair of dark jeans and a black long-sleeved, fitted crop-top with a silver zipper at the front, with a comment like, “Gotta say, your sense of style in general is peak casual-chic, Blake. But, like, with a dangerous edge. You always look really good. This was easy to pick out.”

Blake had just given her a wry smile and thanked her.

Now, Blake was draped over the chair at the desk by the window while idly playing a platform fighter game with Ruby on their scrolls. They were waiting with Weiss for Yang to finish getting ready and get out of the bathroom. It was an ongoing goal of Ruby’s to finally beat Blake two out of three rounds, but Blake had found out, much to her own surprise, that she was extremely good with one particular character’s mechanics without putting in much effort.

And since that discovery, she secretly had fun giving Ruby a challenge sometimes.

If she was honest, though, she was also happy about finding another activity they could bond over, something Blake knew with certainty that Ruby enjoyed – like when they did their daily running together – so she didn’t have to twist herself up in her own anxieties about it.

“Are you drinking tonight, Blake?” Weiss asked distractedly. She was reading something on her scroll, sitting prim and proper on the edge of her bed with her legs crossed.

“Um, no.” Blake knew the music at the club was going to be too loud for her to start with, the last thing she needed was aggravating the headache she knew she was going to have on purpose. “I don’t really like drinking much, anyway.”

“Alright, so that will be you, Ruby, and Ren staying sober. Good.”

“We’re still gonna have fun, though!” Ruby piped up from Blake’s bed. The younger girl had decided to dress completely casual with her boots, jeans, and a red hoodie. “And we’re gonna keep good watch on the rest of you!” There was a pause, then Ruby’s eyes widened and she threw herself to her feet, hand up in the air, holding her scroll in a grip of victory. “I did it! I beat you!”

Blake smirked with a sideways glance at her. “That was just the first round.”

Ruby narrowed her stare and pointed her finger at Blake’s face. “Do you wanna fight?”

And Blake only smirked a bit wider while lazily wiggling her scroll at her fearless leader. “Bring it on.”

“Shouldn’t we check on Yang?” Weiss butted in before Ruby could take retaliatory action against her teammate. Weiss then raised her voice and looked over towards the bathroom door pointedly while she added, “She’s taking a really long time.”

Blake lost her smile, her concern returning to the forefront of her mind. When no fake-offended answer came from inside the bathroom, she stood from the chair and walked over to the door. She hesitated, then gave it a light knock. “Hey…Yang? Are you alright?”

There was some shuffling on the other side, and then Yang said, “Yeah, sorry, I’m coming out.” And the door opened.

Blake stepped away so she wouldn’t be blocking Yang’s path. Her attention was immediately caught on her partner’s face. Yang had tamed her hair into a loose, fun braid draped over her shoulder, and she’d applied a bit of makeup – just a little, just enough to bring some glow to her cheeks and gloss to her lips. She was – Blake took a steadying breath. She’s just so beautiful.

The blonde was wearing a pair of ripped jeans and a tank top – showing more skin than she usually did these days. Had Blake’s gaze not already been glued to Yang’s face, she would’ve missed the downturn of Yang’s eyes and the short breath she took before smiling brightly at everyone, the stress or discomfort or whatever it had been gone like it hadn’t even been there.

“I’m ready! Sorry for taking so long. We can go.”

Ruby was instantly back in good spirits. “Yes! Blake, I’m still gonna beat you. Just…some other day.” She put her scroll into her pocket and rushed to the door. “Let’s go!”

“You’re way too excited for someone who doesn’t like dancing,” Weiss commented with an eyeroll as she stood up as well to join her partner.

“Uh, it’s not the dancing I’m excited for.” Ruby scrunched her nose as she pulled the door open. “They apparently have an arcade setup in there, so there. Also, from what I’ve heard, club dancing doesn’t seem to count as dancing, you just kind of flail around and do whatever – that’s much more doable for me!”

Yang giggled bit. “Never change, Ruby.”

Blake smiled. She also wasn’t going to question how Ruby planned on keeping ‘a good watch’ on her friends if she was busy playing more games at the nightclub. She shared a knowing look with Yang.

As the girls started heading out, Blake made a quick trip back into the shared walk-in closet. She grabbed a light hoodie and draped it over her arm, and then joined back up with others in the hallway.

It was just in case.

Because she had a feeling.

The nightclub was called Ultra Effervescence. It was new, so it was packed. At least, packed in Blake’s definition of the word. It wasn’t like there were people waiting to go in at the door or a crowd to squeeze by at the entrance, but when RWBY walked in, the sheer amount of noise and smells hit Blake like a truck. She had to stop where she was and take a moment to gather herself from the sudden overwhelming onslaught to her senses.

Yang had been excited to go in from how she’d rushed to lead their small group towards the door, but after Ruby and Weiss walked over to the bouncer, and seemingly realizing that Blake wasn’t following, Yang backtracked to come and put her hand on Blake’s arm. “Hey, whoa, whoa… Are you okay? I’m so sorry, Blake, I didn’t think it would be that bad.”

Blake shook her head. “I’ll survive. For a bit.”

Yang glanced back towards the dark inside of the club, where flickering lights of multiple colors were bouncing off the walls. She pursed her lips and looked back at the faunus. “We can go back to Beacon, Blake. I –”

“Yang, no.” Blake heaved a sigh and managed to get a grip on herself, mostly, and started heading over to the bouncer as she added, “I’ll stay as long as I can. You want to be here – enjoy yourself.”

“Well…okay, then. You should try to do that, too.”

Blake knew that had Yang not really wanted to be here, she may have insisted more, but for now she was glad there was no further argument. “I’ll try.”

But the further in they went, the more Blake had to resist wincing and hunching in on herself as all the noise got even louder. The bouncer was near the cloakroom, and he checked their hunter IDs before letting them in so they could join Weiss and Ruby in putting any of their belongings in a locker or on a hanger.

It was truly an unfortunate thing that Blake’s senses were so sensitive. For all intents and purposes, she would have enjoyed the music and probably have had a good time if only it didn’t feel like her brain, itself, vibrated in her skull with every drop of the bass. The high-pitched ringing in her cat ears wasn’t helping, either.

When they made it into the main hall, they all came to a gradual stop and stared.

“Whoa…” Blake heard Ruby breathe.

There was an array of green and blue lights spreading across the ceiling and reflecting off mirrored panels, small red and purple spotlights shooting down at the jumping crowd and being diffused by the fog, and large holographic displays of dancers seemingly just floating there above everyone. It was chaotic, energetic, and far too overstimulating for Blake.

“You guys made it!” came a voice, and they turned to see Nora bounding over to them.

“Hi, Nora!” Ruby exclaimed.

“This place is so cool,” Yang chimed in with a grin, giving Nora a quick hug.

“Oh, it’s awesome,” the shorter redhead confirmed. “Pyrrha and Jaune are upstairs right now.” She glanced at Blake as she said that. “It’s quieter up there, more like a fancy bar! But the arcade is down here, over at the other end.”

Ruby immediately grabbed Nora by the shoulders and stared right into her face. “Show meee.”

Nora snickered. “Follow me!” And then she skipped off to the beat of the music.

Ruby was right on her heels, and Yang went along with them, still staring around in wonder and appreciation.

Blake wanted to follow, but the apparently quieter upstairs beckoned her harder.

“Maybe I do need a drink,” Weiss suddenly said with an eyeroll, and looked over at Blake. “Let’s go find the bar together.”

“Already found it,” Blake replied with a pained smile, pointing over at the illuminated stairs off to the side not too far away. That was always one of the first things she did when she entered new places – checked for all the exits or possible hideouts. She couldn’t help it.

“Oh. Well, let’s go then.”

They walked side by side, and the moment they made it through the threshold of the upstairs area, Blake breathed a bit of a sigh of relief. It was as if this space was soundproofed, to an extent – while not gone completely, the music was sufficiently muted that Blake’s ears no longer felt like they were bleeding.

“Why are you even here, Blake?”

Blake’s eyes widened and she turned to face Weiss, who had stopped beside her to give her a skeptical look. “Because Yang asked me to come?”

Weiss heaved a sigh of her own and shook her head. “You two are going to be the death of me. Now I really need a drink.” And then, without further explanation, she strode off towards the bar.

Blake creased her eyebrows and looked around. The colors were less harsh on the eyes here as well, pleasant lilacs and roses. The seating looked comfortable, too, almost lounge-like with loveseats and armchairs in several places. She spotted Pyrrha and Jaune sitting on one of those and chatting with drinks in their hands.

Pyrrha noticed her and waved, and Blake discreetly waved back.

There were still other people up here, though – strangers – and Blake couldn’t stomach just standing there awkwardly, feeling like some of them were starting to stare, so she joined Weiss at the bar while double checking that her headband was properly covering her cat ears.

This was going to be a long couple of hours.

Yang still hadn’t gone to the dance floor. But, oh, Blake noticed her looking – glancing furtively often before frowning and staring down at her feet. Sighing. Rubbing her arm, on her bicep just above her prosthetic. She’d return her attention to whoever she was talking to or to whatever she was doing…

…and inevitably look back at the dance floor.

Blake had forced herself to come back down to the main level to hang out with Ruby and Yang at the arcade, and she’d been with Yang when Pyrrha and Jaune had come down to chat with them. She’d also been next to Yang when the couple had gone off to dance together, and she’d seen the look on Yang’s face as she watched them go.

It had been even worse when they’d noticed Weiss, of all people, entering the crowd and letting a little loose.

Or even spotting Ren attempting to keep up with Nora.

From where they were standing at the archway leading out of the arcade section, Blake discreetly nudged Yang and nodded over to where the lasers and lights were brightest. “What’s stopping you?”

Yang laughed a bit, but it sounded forced in Blake’s ears. “I dunno what you’re talking about.” But the moment Blake arched her eyebrows, Yang’s shoulders sagged with a sigh. “I, uh… It’s weird. Just…” She creased her eyebrows, as if struggling with finding the right words, and ended up looking down at the metal of her arm and just…shrugging.

Oh, Yang.

Blake didn’t fully understand what the blonde was trying to say, but she caught the discomfort easily enough. She allowed herself to briefly brush Yang’s other arm with the tips of her fingers before retreating, and said, “I’ll be right back.”

Without waiting for a response, she strode away from the main area where the music was loudest and found the cloakroom. For a moment she stopped and massaged her temples, closing her eyes at the mild relief at not having the bass thrumming directly in her head. But this really wasn’t much better. She knew she’d have to leave soon, before the pain became fully unbearable.

After a short respite, though, Blake found her things on a hanger – including the light hoodie she’d decided to bring at the last second. She swiped it and, after taking a steadying breath, headed back out towards the chaotic energy in the main hall. Yang hadn’t moved from her spot, although it seemed that Nora had showed up for the purpose of sharing drinks.

“Girl, you just need some liquid courage,” the short redhead commented while putting a whole glass of something dark in Yang’s hands.

Yang brought it up to her face so she could stare at it in bewilderment. “Did you just shove whiskey at me? Why are you giving me whiskey?”

“Because I don’t want it anymore.”

“But I don’t want it, either?! If you’d had something more fruity, then okay, but whiskey?”

Nora rolled her eyes. “Are you gonna drink it, or no? Cuz I’ll take it back. Don’t make me take it back. Cuz I swear I will!”

Yang saw Blake join up with them again and immediately said, “I think I’m being threatened with a good time?”

“Sounds like it to me,” Blake agreed with a slight smile towards Nora.

Yang stared at the glass again before showing it to Blake. “Do you want this?”

“No, thank you.”

Nora peered at them in amusement while Yang squinted at the drink again, glanced at Blake, and then she downed it all in one go. It immediately made her devolve into a coughing fit, though, and Nora laughed. “Why’d you do that for? It’s not a shot!”

Hacking, all Yang could do was rasp, “Yup, it sure isn’t.”

Nora cackled and took the empty glass back, “Here, you keep regretting your decision, I’ll return this.” She made sure to give Yang’s back a good, hard pat, causing her to stumble forward, and Nora bounded off with the sound of her laughter following behind.

Blake watched her go and slowly shook her head before returning her attention to Yang, who was finally starting to recover. She wiped tears from her eyes and sniffled, clearing her throat a couple more times.

“You okay?” Blake asked with a wry smile.

“Yeah, I’m good,” Yang mumbled, and then half-snickered, half-coughed again. “That was pretty dumb of me. Anyway, where’d you go?”

But Blake was not given the opportunity to answer.

“Hey, sorry to interrupt…”

She and Yang both switched their attentions over to the woman that had just walked up to them…and had to tilt their heads up just slightly to meet her eyes. She was taller than Yang and built like a warrior, her ashen-blonde hair threaded back in a thick braid. Her warm, dark gaze found Blake’s, and she extended her hand towards her. “Hi. My name is Lyra.”

Blake blinked and hesitantly slipped her hand into the other woman’s larger one. “Um…hi. I’m Blake.”

Lyra gave Blake’s hand a lingering, gentle squeeze, which drove Blake’s mind into a million questions, and then Lyra turned to Yang and offered her hand as well.

Yang shook it, saying with a smile, “Hey! I’m Yang. Can we help you?”

Lyra smiled, too. “Maybe.” Her gaze returned to Blake. “I’m sorry, I hope this isn’t out of place, but I saw you from afar a few times. You caught my eye, you’re really beautiful. Would you like to come have a drink with me? Or dance, maybe?”

There was a pause, a brief one, in which Blake first fully realized what was happening – she was being hit on, somehow, and not Yang, even if they were standing right next to each other – then blinked as her perspective shifted and she took Lyra in again, but…slower.

She was quite an attractive woman. And she did seem nice.

Blake had apparently very much developed a type.

“Oh. Um.”

And then it was awkward and uncomfortable because Yang was, once again, right there, looking like she was fighting her amusement while also creasing her eyebrows in concern.

They still really hadn’t cemented what their relationship was now, yet.

Lyra must have seen Blake checking Yang for something because she said, “Oh, unless you two are together? I don’t mean to cause any problems.”

“N-no – well, yes? Kind of.” Blake was fairly certain she’d never felt her face feel so hot, and Yang just looking increasingly more unsure wasn’t helping. She did finally manage to say something coherent, though, with a rushed, “I’m sorry, you seem lovely, but I’m not available.”

Lyra took this in stride with another smile. She gave Blake a piece of paper. “You can still take my code. If anything changes. I’m interested.” And as she started to turn to leave, she added, “Have a nice evening, both of you.”

And then she was gone.

Neither Yang nor Blake moved or spoke for a moment. The faunus’ heart was pounding everywhere in her body. It was awful.

Then Yang cleared her throat and said, “She was, um, hot.”

And Blake couldn’t reply to that. Not right away. There was such a conflict of emotions running through her – and that comment was making the despair part of it all worse. Her head hurt so much. Finally, Blake shifted her gaze to Yang. Searching. Trying to figure out where they stood. “She was.” But, careful as if stepping onto a minefield, she asked, “Should I keep her code?”

Because they both knew. They were both fully aware now – that if Blake wanted, she could continue to choose trying to get over Yang, and that she could find someone who would reciprocate, at the very least, her attraction. It had never crossed Blake’s mind before, so entirely enraptured with Yang as she’d been, and Blake was fiercely monogamous, but…part of that process was now suddenly just one text message away. It would be as easy as ‘Should I come over to your place?’

And they also both knew that if Yang had any speck of decency, she wouldn’t keep trying to pull Blake along if the chances of the blonde developing deeper feelings for her partner were just too small.

No matter how difficult the separation would be. No matter how alone Yang would feel.

But the thought of that felt like being stabbed through the waist all over again. Blake’s scar burned and itched. She knew Yang’s feelings weren’t her responsibility. She knew that.

But her love wouldn’t have it.

…And that was Blake’s choice, in the end, wasn’t it?

She crumpled the paper and found the nearest trashcan, tossed it in, and came back to Yang.

Yang stared down at her feet. She gripped and twisted her hand around her metal wrist, shifting her weight. The look on her face was torn.

Blake stepped closer and slowly extended the hoodie towards her partner. “I’d brought this for you.”

A beat. Yang blinked at the hoodie, and then her brow furrowed more as her eyes flicked back up to Blake, uncertain. “I, uh…I thought you…brought it for yourself.”

“No. It’s for you.”

“I…” Yang took the hoodie from Blake’s hands, hesitant, and slowly slipped it on. But the moment she’d zipped up the front, the tension seemed to relax from her shoulders and she breathed a quiet sigh that very much sounded relieved. “…You didn’t have to do that, Blake.”

“I’m just glad it helped.”

“No, I mean, about – well, the hoodie, too. But…thank you.”

Blake slowly shook her head. “We have two more years at Beacon, don’t we?”

And she let the implication hang there.

The look Yang gave Blake was nothing but sad and grateful. But then she chuckled and gave a rueful shake of her head. She was silent, long enough that Blake thought she wasn’t actually going to say anything, but then she seemed to make a decision and Yang glanced off to dance floor before playing with the hem of her hoodie as she muttered, “I guess I thought that if I dressed the way I used to when I’d go out, before…the arm, it’d be…fine, or good for me, or…” She stared at her metal palm sticking out of the sleeve of her hoodie for a moment, the yellow and dark grey of her fingers flexing slightly, and then she sighed and let it drop back down. “…It’s like you know me better than I know myself.”

“Don’t say it like that, Yang,” Blake urged softly, putting any contradictory feelings behind and stepping in front of the blonde to lightly grip her forearms, seeking her gaze. Yang opened up so rarely about her darker feelings – and it was always heartbreaking for Blake when inklings of the truth trickled out. “You’re trying. You’re trying so hard – I can see that much. You made it here and had fun for almost two hours. I brought the shirt just in case. Not because I knew what would happen.”

“It’s okay, Blake,” Yang said with a small smile that did not look okay in the slightest. “I know I’m impulsive.”

Blake started to open her mouth, tried to come up with something to argue with, to somehow convince this woman that all the horrible monsters whispering in her ears were lying – because for the gods’ sake, you’re so incredible, why can’t you see that? and Blake had literally just turned down a very willing, hot, possible love interest in exchange for Yang because she was that worth it to Blake – but anything she came up with just got jammed and bottled up in her throat.

She’d be a terrible hypocrite if she said anything now.

Yang’s eyes shifted over to the dance floor again. She then gave Blake another grateful smile, shook out her arms, rolled her shoulders, and, with a determined glint in her irises, started heading over.

Blake exhaled and massaged her brow, leaning against the archway frame, and then watched Yang while trying to keep the regret from showing on her face. She wasn’t gonna take Yang up on the offer the blonde had made earlier that day, that much Blake was firm about. She was fine with leaving by herself, let Yang have her fun – especially now that she’d just gotten the courage to let a little looser. Blake would never take that away from her.

But before Blake could even make up her mind about getting out of here just yet, Yang stopped halfway to her destination, and Blake watched in bemusement as she made her way back over to the faunus. She seemed nervous, and Blake was immediately concerned.

“Uh, hey,” Yang said with a small laugh once she was close enough again. She hesitated and then extended her hand towards Blake. “Do you want to come dance with me? You know, instead of me just going in there by myself.”

It was Blake’s turn to blink, and then her eyes widened a bit. “Oh. Um.” She was suddenly caught between the awful dilemma of saying yes and risk making her headache turn into a splitting pain that would make her want to cry until the next morning, and disappointing Yang but at least having a sufficiently good enough night’s rest.

Also, Blake didn’t know how to dance. And the idea of being cramped up between a bunch of too-warm, sweaty, gyrating bodies with no easy exit – while already being overstimulated enough as it was – sent her anxiety skyrocketing.

She’d turned down Lyra because of her feelings for Yang. And she knew she was about to disappoint Yang now, too. It broke her heart. But Blake couldn’t make herself say yes to this one. “I’m sorry, Yang,” she forced out, looking down at the floor. “That’s too much for me.”

Yang’s hand retreated to her side. “Oh. Okay.” She did very much seem dejected, for the briefest flash of a moment – but as Yang usually was, she was fast to hide it behind an easy, accepting smile. “No problem!”

Blake sighed and repeated, “I’m sorry. I’m also going to start heading back to Beacon. My headache is getting worse.” And then, because she saw Yang about to open her mouth to sacrifice her fun just to hold up her own end of their deal, Blake added quickly, “Please stay here and enjoy yourself. I’ll be fine, you don’t have to come. Go dance, don’t worry about me.”

“But…”

“Please.”

The blonde hesitated a moment longer, and then she gave Blake an uncertain smile. “Okay. Thank you, Blake. I’ll see you later, then. Be safe on the way back!”

“I will.” And, with a wave back as she started leaving, she said, “Have fun.”

“I’ll try!”

RWBY’s dorm room was, naturally, blissfully, quiet. Blake shut the door behind herself and let out a slow exhale. She reached for the band on her head and pulled it off, passed her hand through her hair and rubbed the base of her cat ears, closing her eyes for a moment. That already felt a little better. Just a little. She shook her head and then went to her personal drawer to grab pain relief medication.

After downing two pills with a half a water bottle, Blake let herself lounge on her tummy on her bed and shut her eyes again. Focusing on the silence. Feeling the beating of her heart and the high-pitched ringing finally fade from inside her skull.

It was definitely a bit strange being all alone here. And she knew she wasn’t really alone, but it was the idea that none of the other RWBY girls were currently anywhere on campus, no JNPR down the hall making noises loud enough that Blake’s sensitive hearing could pick them up, that was messing with her.

No, she was just by herself in the dorm room.

She shouldn’t have felt the pang of loneliness that badly. She was used to being on her own.

But, then again, it probably shouldn’t have come as much of a surprise. Wasn’t there some running joke about cats pretending to be so independent but they were actually just helpless little creatures without their owners?

Blake rolled her eyes. She shouldn’t have been reducing herself or her care to a racial joke. But…it was just hard sometimes. Especially when her animal traits got in the way of her being able to enjoy certain experiences the same way most humans could without issue.

She’d never give them up for anything, they were a part of her that were often extremely useful in other circumstances, but…she had to deal with the downsides, too.

If only she could find the courage to stop hiding them now.

Blake turned onto her back, palm resting on her forehead, and blinked up at Yang’s bunk. Stared at it for a while, zoning out.

Then she sighed. Rubbed her face. She didn’t really want to make herself miserable with everything right now, didn’t want to let herself spiral like it was too easy for her to do. She turned and reached for the book she’d left under her bed.

A small escape from reality with pirates in a sci-fi setting. Just for now.

The sound of someone approaching from further down the hallway made Blake’s eyes fly open. But she was met with only blankness. She sat up, confused and mildly disoriented, and the book slid off her face.

Oh. She’d fallen asleep.

Blake checked the time, saw that only about an hour and a half had gone by. She wiped the sleep out of her eyes and passed her fingers through her hair, then grabbed her water bottle to drink the other half of it. At least the headache was gone. Mostly.

She’d recognized the casual stroll of Yang’s footsteps, too, so her momentary panic upon awakening faded fast.

But it was strange that it was only Yang coming back. And the brawler’s boots were scraping the carpet a bit, like her feet were heavier than normal.

Drunk? …Or did something happen?

Blake creased her eyebrows, and the door unlocked and opened just as she was moving onto the edge of her bed and putting her book off to the side.

Yang came in, gaze immediately searching for something, and when it landed on Blake, she smiled. “Hey, Blake.”

She closed the door.

“Hi.” Blake observed her, trying to make sure that she was okay. She sounded like everything was fine, at least. “You’re back so early. And by yourself. Is everything alright?”

“Uh-huh.” Yang took off her boots, briefly losing her balance in the process but managing to catch herself, and then gave Blake a wink when she straightened up again. She seemed a bit rosy and unfocused. Maybe Blake’s first assumption was correct. “I’m good, don’t worry.”

Blake watched her partner walk over to the drawer with her things in it, where she took out a portable speaker and set it on the desk. “And Ruby and Weiss?” Blake wondered.

Yang waved her hand. “They’ll be here. Eventually.”

That was so vague. Blake had a feeling there was some kind of mischief or plan on Yang’s mind, because the blonde then got her scroll out of her pocket and seemed to look for something on it…but there was this determined gleam in her eyes. And with Yang, that usually meant something.

While Yang concentrated, she asked, “How’s your headache?”

“I’m feeling better.”

“Oh, good, good.”

Blake tilted her head a bit out of bemusement. “…Why?”

“Just checking.”

And then, a few seconds later, and before Blake could formulate another question, quiet music started playing from her speaker – some melodic club music, it sounded like. Blake creased her eyebrows again.

They creased even further when Yang approached the makeshift bunkbed and held out her hand towards the faunus, a somehow both shy and purposeful expression on her face. “Dance with me?”

Blake blinked. Being asked this question a second time by her partner might have been even more shocking than the first one. “Um…Yang, I don’t really know how to dance.”

“It’s okay! It’s just to have fun together.” But Yang quickly lost the confident front she’d been putting on, and added more quietly, “Please? Unless you, like, don’t actually want to dance with me. Saying no twice in a row…I’ll take the hint.” She laughed a bit.

And, of course, faced with that, Blake was powerless. Ignoring the nervousness tightening her insides, she slipped her hand into Yang’s to be helped up. “No, I – I’m just not sure about the dancing part. But I do want…well, I do want to do things with you.”

Yang smiled tentatively and guided Blake to the middle of the room. “I promise it’s not hard.” She then – much to Blake’s surprise – pulled her partner into a loose kind of almost-hug with one arm, still holding Blake’s hand out to the side with the other. “Then you can put your head on my shoulder somewhere, and we can just sway! See? Nothing fancy.”

“O-oh. Okay, then.”

Blake adjusted herself, unsure, and rested her head against Yang’s shoulder as she was instructed to do. Her free hand was already on Yang’s lower bicep, feeling the hard metal of her prosthetic under the hoodie’s sleeve, but for the sake of comfort she drifted her hand up and around to cradle the same shoulder she was nestled against.

And then they…did exactly as Yang suggested – they swayed to the quiet music. “…I didn’t know club music could be danced to like this,” Blake admitted in a small breath. But it felt right, in this strange kind of way.

Yang chuckled again, and Blake heard the reverberations of her voice in her chest. “Just gotta find the right songs. I know it’s not super romantic, but…I wanted to try.”

Blake didn’t say anything. Not immediately, anyway. She didn’t know what to make of this right now, and it was hard to just relax because she was overwhelmed with the warm feeling of Yang’s torso pressing softly against hers. Her heart wasn’t racing, not really, but she was increasingly aware of its sheer beating in her chest.

“This isn’t…awkward for you, is it?”

“No.” Yang’s voice was light, almost casual. “It’s nice.”

Nice. Blake didn’t know what to make of that, either. Yang’s hand was scorching on Blake’s back. If Blake allowed herself to feel her emotions right now, she knew that nice would be a terrible understatement for how much she wanted to melt into Yang’s arms.

And Yang was just finding this nice.

Blake closed her eyes with a small sigh. She supposed this did feel more intentionally intimate than a hug, and she took comfort in that. Yang also made it easy to follow her lead, not putting Blake through any complicated footwork. They just held each other, moved with each other in tune to the slightly upbeat music, with Yang occasionally tripping on the floor or over Blake’s feet and causing both of them to laugh.

And then the song came to an end, much faster than Blake had anticipated or would have liked. She let go of Yang, because Yang was letting go of her, and took a step back to give her space. Yang gave her a sunny grin and went to turn her speaker off. “See? It’s not so bad.”

“Yeah, it’s…not so bad.” But it’s also awkward if I’m the only one feeling something about it. Blake let out a small breath, resolved herself to the idea that she’d just have to get used to cutting these moments short. She was getting greedy already, without even meaning or wanting to. Slow down. “I’m…going to go change into – ”

Yang was suddenly in front of her again, as if by magic. “Hey.”

Blake paused, met Yang’s gaze. “Hey?”

“I did enjoy that. It didn’t feel weird for me. Thank you.”

Blake felt her expression soften, but something behind her sternum clenched. There’s such a big gap between our feelings. “I’m glad it was nice for you. It was for me, too.” She touched Yang’s arm, even gave it a brief squeeze, and then started to turn away to go find her pajamas.

“Hey.”

Blake stopped again and returned her attention to her partner, giving her an arch-eyebrowed look that teetered between amused and wry. “Yes, Yang?”

“How are you feeling?”

Yang seemed genuinely concerned this time. Like she was maybe picking up on Blake’s dejection. But Blake didn’t want to ruin the mood. “I’m alright. I promise.” I’ll be alright.

This caused Yang to narrow her gaze, investigating Blake’s expression with all the concentration she could muster, and the sight of that alone was just so endearing that it made the tension fade from Blake’s posture, and she allowed herself a half-smile. “Yang. I promise. You’re –” she interrupted herself, calculated and debated with herself for all of two seconds that felt like a lifetime, and then found the courage to just say it in an affectionate breath, “ – you’re adorable, though.”

The blonde’s eyebrows rose so high and so fast that Blake was surprised they didn’t fling through the ceiling and launch into space. “Oh!” It was almost like she didn’t even know what to do anymore. “Uh-m.” Her face got redder, too.

To Blake’s mild disappointment – because this reaction was terribly interesting – Yang was saved from having to save herself by the door opening and Weiss throwing out, “Okay, we gave you your fifteen-minute head-start, we’re here now. Do you mind explaining?”

“I mean, I’m not complaining,” Ruby teased, coming in after Weiss, “Those were such cool arcade games! And Weiss actually tried one!”

Yang laughed awkwardly, and as much as Blake’s curiosity was piqued with that comment from the heiress, she also didn’t want to keep putting her partner on the spot. So, Blake moved to continue the task she’d meant to do for the past three minutes – find her pajamas.

From the walk-in closet, though, she still heard Yang speak. “I, uh – I just needed to have a chat with Blake! You know, without being interrupted.”

“Huh? About wh – ”

“Anyway! What game did you make Weiss play?”

Blake heard Ruby snicker. “…Pinball. I had to drag her away from it.”

“I was going to win!”

Yang laughed. “Yeah, I bet. You should have left her there, Ruby.”

“Hm, you might be on to something…”

Blake finished changing and came out of the walk-in just as Weiss was heading into the bathroom with, “Laugh at me all you want, I’m still smarter than both of you.”

“I just feel like you hang on to that a lot, like you’re insecure –”

The bathroom door slammed behind Weiss before Yang could finish her comment.

Ruby giggled along with her sister. “She was going to win, Yang.”

“She totally was.”

From the other side of the bathroom door, they heard Weiss yell, “I can still hear you, you…you dummies!”

Ruby and Yang both laughed again, and Blake slowly shook her head. “You can’t win at pinball, Weiss,” she called out, taking pity on her teammate.

The only sound they heard was a muffled, “Hmph!” before the shower turned on.

There was some more snickering from the half-sisters, and then it was Yang’s turn to go get changed.

But as she passed by Blake and their gazes met, Yang’s smile turned into something shier, something almost hopeful as she cast her eyes downwards for the briefest of moments.

It almost glued Blake to her spot on the floor. But she managed to make it to her bed, where she, with the utmost calm, hid her face in her pillow so she wouldn’t make her internal screaming too obvious to Ruby.

Forget Lyra, forget even considering other possible suitors.

Yang was all Blake ever wanted.

…How am I ever supposed to survive this?