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Weiss Schnee awoke to morning light filtering through gauzy curtains, casting soft golden patches across the bed. For a moment, she was suspended in that rare, weightless peace... the kind that only came from waking next to Ruby Rose.
Ruby lay beside her, tangled loosely in the sheets, her breathing slow and even. One arm flopped above her head in the most graceless way imaginable. Her hair was an unruly mess, half plastered to her cheek, and Weiss couldn’t help but smile at the sight of her. Goddess, she was beautiful.
Weiss turned her head to press a gentle kiss to Ruby’s temple before settling back against the pillow. Just a few more minutes. Just a little longer in this rare sliver of perfection.
Then her scroll buzzed.
The vibration rattled against the nightstand. Weiss blinked, frowning, and reached over to check it. A group message lit the screen.
Blake: Happy birthday, Ruby! Hope it’s a great one.
Yang: Wishing you the best day ever, sis!
Blake: Try to enjoy it... if anyone’s earned a quiet day, it’s you.
Weiss stared at the message thread.
Birthday?
Her brain short-circuited. That couldn’t be right. Ruby’s birthday wasn’t until...
Oh no.
She opened her scroll calendar. October 31st.
Oh no.
She bolted upright in bed, the motion jolting the mattress. Ruby stirred with a sleepy noise, but didn’t wake. Weiss, heart hammering in her chest, grabbed the slim planner she kept on the nightstand. She flipped through the pages with increasingly frantic fingers.
The page was empty.
October 31st stared back at her in crisp, taunting font... completely unmarked. Not a sticker, not a note, not even a single underline. Dates were supposed to be safe. Reliable. Something she could structure her world around. But this one had slipped past her defenses like a thief in the night.
"No. No no no no no," she whispered, already throwing off the covers. She padded out of the room as quietly as she could, clutching the planner like it might morph into a life-preserver if she stared hard enough.
She made a beeline for the kitchen, yanking open the drawer beside the fridge. Her emergency planner was tucked neatly inside. She flipped it open with trembling hands.
Nothing. Blank.
October 31st stared up at her with quiet, damning emptiness.
Weiss braced her hands on the countertop, forcing herself to take a breath. Then another. It didn’t help. Her thoughts were already spiraling. How could she have forgotten? She’d had it marked. She’d triple-checked. Hadn’t she?
She spun around. Her feet moved before her brain caught up, carrying her down the hall in a blur of adrenaline. She fled into the bathroom, shutting the door with a soft click. Her reflection stared back at her in the mirror: wide-eyed, pale, and very much on the verge of a meltdown.
She fumbled for her scroll with fingers that felt suddenly numb and tapped Winter’s contact. It rang once before the call connected.
"Weiss."
Her sister’s voice was clipped, calm, and carried the crisp precision of someone who had already reviewed three dossiers and completed a tactical briefing before sunrise. The sound of it... so composed, so together... only made Weiss’s panic spike higher.
"I forgot Ruby’s birthday," she blurted. The words tumbled out in a rush. "It’s today. I forgot. I swear I had it in my planner... I know I did, but it’s not there, and Blake and Yang already texted her and she’s still asleep and I haven’t said anything and I was going to make pancakes and now everything is ruined..."
"Weiss."
The single word, spoken with quiet force, cut through the ramble like a blade. She stopped mid-breath, heart still thundering in her chest.
There was a pause. Then, the distinct, deliberate sound of Winter taking a slow sip of something from a mug. Weiss could hear the composure.
Then, calmly: "Tell her the truth. She’ll understand. And maybe… buy her something nice."
Weiss blinked at her reflection in the mirror, as if surprised to find her carefully composed mask already cracking at the edges. She looked like a woman who prided herself on having a plan... only to discover she’d misplaced the map entirely.
Tell her the truth?
Absolutely not. That would lead to questions. To disappointment. To Ruby saying, Oh… it’s okay, in that heartbreakingly sincere voice she used when something clearly wasn’t okay. Weiss couldn’t bear it.
But the second part... that, at least, was actionable. That, she could control.
Her grip on the sink steadied. Her breath evened out.
Weiss squared her shoulders.
"Right," she said aloud, meeting her own eyes. "Something nice."
She ended the call with Winter and took a steadying breath, thumb hovering over her scroll before tapping into her contacts again. One ring.
"Good morning, Miss Schnee," came Pyrrha’s voice, unfailingly cheerful despite the early hour.
"Pyrrha, I need you to cancel all of my meetings today. Every single one."
"Of course. Is there a reason, or should I just say you're unavailable?"
"Just unavailable," Weiss said quickly, then hesitated. "Actually... just say it’s a personal emergency. Something... delicate. That should be vague enough to avoid questions."
A polite pause. Then: "Understood."
"And… I need help arranging some deliveries. Birthday deliveries. Same-day rush. As many as can physically arrive before noon."
"Gifts?"
"Yes. And not just any gifts. Thoughtful ones. Expensive ones. Sentimental ones. I’m sending you a list now. And if you could also contact the custom workshop in Vale that Ruby loves... yes, that one... I want every accessory, upgrade, and specialty part they have in stock. No duplicates. Actually... duplicates are fine."
Another beat of silence. Then Pyrrha said, without missing a step, "I’ll handle it."
Weiss exhaled and dropped her hand from her temple. "Thank you, Pyrrha. Truly."
"I'll get started right away," Pyrrha said warmly, her tone as professional as it was kind.
The line went silent, but Weiss stayed still for a moment longer, scroll in hand, heart still racing. The panic hadn’t gone away, not entirely... but at least now it had shape. Focus. She could handle motion. It was stillness that undid her.
She was going to make this right. She had to. Because if anyone in the world deserved an unforgettable birthday... it was Ruby Rose.
Weiss moved like a woman possessed.
As soon as Pyrrha's call ended, she slipped into motion, focused and relentless. Her bare feet padded swiftly across the floor as she headed back to the kitchen, scroll tucked under her arm, hair already pulled into a haphazard ponytail. She didn’t have a plan... not yet... but she had momentum, and for the moment, that was all she needed.
Breakfast. Pancakes. Strawberries. Whipped cream.
She could do that much.
The kitchen greeted her with its usual pristine silence. She yanked open the fridge, pulling out eggs, milk, butter, and strawberries in rapid succession. Flour and sugar came next, snatched from the pantry like battlefield supplies. The whisk trembled in her grip as she stirred too hard, batter splattering faintly against the bowl’s rim.
She poured the first round into the pan with barely-controlled precision, lips pursed. The sizzle felt grounding.
It wasn’t enough.
Weiss’s eyes flicked to the clock. Still early. Good. The deliveries wouldn’t start arriving for at least thirty minutes.
She glanced at the tray she’d pulled out. Plates, silverware, folded napkins with little snowflake embroidery she’d insisted on when they moved in together. She grabbed the strawberries, slicing them with mechanical efficiency. Each cut felt like penance... measured strokes meant to reassert control over something, anything, after such a critical lapse.
She’d forgotten.
How had she forgotten? She had three planners. Three. This wasn’t just a failure. It was a personal catastrophe.
Weiss set the strawberries in a neat fan pattern beside the pancakes and took a breath to center herself. One more plate to finish. The whipped cream came next... too much, probably, but Ruby liked it that way.
Then disaster struck.
As she reached for the second plate... already stacked with fresh pancakes... her elbow caught the edge. The porcelain slipped from the counter, landed with a terrible clatter, and shattered across the tile. A splatter of whipped cream and strawberries fanned across the floor like a crime scene.
"No...!" Weiss dropped to her knees, scooping up shards before they could scatter further. She froze mid-motion, heart leaping into her throat.
She’d ruined it.
Not completely. But enough.
She stared at the jagged pieces in her hand, breathing through her nose. It’s fine. It’s fine. She had backups. She could fix this. She just had to...
"Weiss?"
Ruby’s voice, still rough with sleep, filtered in from the hallway.
Weiss whipped around, eyes wide.
Ruby stood in the doorway, blinking blearily. She wore her oversized Beacon hoodie... one of Weiss’s favorites, the sleeves too long... and her hair was a tumble of tangled curls. Her bare feet padded quietly against the tile as she stepped into the kitchen.
"What happened?"
"Just a plate," Weiss said quickly, forcing her voice into something calm and dismissive. She stood, careful not to reveal the panic still thrumming under her skin. "No big deal."
Ruby’s gaze drifted from the shards in Weiss’s hands to the breakfast tray on the counter. Her expression softened.
"You were making pancakes."
"I was. Am," Weiss corrected. "For you."
Ruby smiled, slow and sleepy, her eyes soft with affection. "You really didn’t have to do all this... but it means a lot."
"Of course I did," Weiss said, more sharply than she meant to. She cleared her throat and added, "It’s your birthday."
"True," Ruby said, leaning against the counter, eyes still on her. "But what are you going to eat?"
Weiss hesitated. "I’m not hungry."
Ruby raised an eyebrow and tilted her head. "Really? Not even for pancakes?"
"I..." Weiss faltered.
Ruby reached for the one remaining plate on the tray and picked it up. Then, without a word, she grabbed a fresh plate from the cabinet, placed it on the counter, and carefully cut and slid half of her stack onto it before nudging it toward Weiss.
"What I want for my birthday," Ruby said, softly but with unmistakable affection, "is to have breakfast with my beautiful girlfriend. So sit down, Weiss. Please?"
Weiss stared at the offering, then at Ruby’s warm, earnest face. She couldn’t breathe for a second. There was something in Ruby’s eyes... so open, so full of quiet trust... that stripped away all of Weiss’s defenses. No judgment. Just love, unguarded and unwavering. And it nearly unraveled her.
She took the plate.
They sat together at the small kitchen table, on the same side rather than across from each other, close enough for their knees to bump and elbows to nudge. The pancakes were warm, the strawberries sweet, and the whipped cream absurdly generous.
Weiss took small bites, more to appease Ruby than anything else. The food was good... warm and soft and sweet... but it tasted distant through the haze of guilt. With each bite, she tried to pretend things were normal, that she wasn't sitting beside the girl she’d disappointed. But no matter how comforting the pancakes were, they couldn’t mask the fact that she’d already messed up the one thing she wanted to get right.
Ruby paused mid-bite. "Hey… are you okay?"
The question was gentle, but it hit like a dart.
Weiss’s grip tightened on her fork. She felt the words rise to her lips... an apology, a confession... but she swallowed them back.
She smiled. Or tried to. "Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?"
Her stomach twisted. She was almost certain Ruby could see right through her. But if she admitted it now... if she said the words out loud... it would make the failure real. And she wasn’t ready for that.
Ruby didn’t look convinced.
But she let it go.
They cleaned up in comfortable silence, working side by side. Ruby hummed softly as she washed while Weiss dried, occasionally bumping her shoulder gently against Weiss’s as if to say, I’m here. I’ve got you. For a moment, Weiss let herself simply exist in it... this quiet, perfect illusion of normal.
And then, just as the moment settled... the doorbell rang.
The doorbell's chime cut through the warmth of the kitchen like a sudden gust of wind.
Weiss stiffened.
Ruby tilted her head. "Expecting someone?"
Weiss’s eyes widened a fraction. Right. The deliveries. She’d lost track of time.
"Ah... yes," she said quickly, wiping her hands on a towel with more force than necessary. "Just… something I arranged."
Ruby blinked. "You arranged something?"
Before she could ask further, the bell rang again. Weiss was already moving.
"I’ll get it," she called, too fast.
She crossed the apartment in brisk, businesslike strides, taking a moment to compose herself before opening the door. A deliveryman stood outside beside a small cart stacked with boxes. All wrapped in varying shades of silver and red.
"Morning, Miss Schnee," he said, checking the label on the top one. "Got a drop-off here for a… Ruby Rose?"
Weiss nodded. "That’s correct. Thank you. Just place them inside, please."
He did, carefully rolling the cart through the doorway. Weiss tried not to wince at the sound of boxes thudding gently onto the hardwood.
"More on the way," the man added cheerfully. "We had to stagger the shipments. Something about ‘expedited high-priority override?’”
"Yes," Weiss muttered. "That would be me."
He tipped his cap, then left. As the door clicked shut behind him, Weiss turned and found Ruby standing a few feet away, barefoot and bewildered, eyes fixed on the growing pile of boxes in their living room.
"Weiss," she said slowly, "what is all this?"
Weiss straightened, but her voice came out just a little too high, a little too fast. "They’re, um... your birthday presents."
Ruby looked at her. Then at the boxes. Then back again.
"This is… a lot."
"Nonsense," Weiss said primly. "It’s not nearly enough."
Ruby opened the nearest one, tugging away the ribbon and peeling back the tissue paper. Inside lay a custom-forged Crescent Rose blade mod, gleaming faintly with engraved floral inlays.
Ruby gawked, her eyes going wide with delighted disbelief. "Wait... this is the limited-run model from the Mistral showcase? The one with the custom inlays and precision-forged edge?"
Weiss nodded once. "With the recoil-dampening housing reworked to accommodate your spin-scythe transitions. And I had the engravings customized."
Ruby’s jaw dropped.
She moved to the next box, and the next. Each one held a different part... new stabilizers, variable dust chambers, a reinforced grip plate with her initials inlaid in rose gold.
Ruby stared at the growing pile, mouth agape. "Did you… buy the entire website?"
Weiss lifted her chin. "Both websites, actually."
There was a moment of stunned silence.
Then the doorbell rang again.
Weiss barely had time to step aside before the second delivery crew arrived... this time with a much larger box on a dolly. It was nearly person-sized, and bright red with a pink ribbon tied in an enormous, impractical bow.
Ruby blinked. "What on Remnant is that?"
Ruby stepped forward like she was approaching a sacred relic. She circled the giant red box once, then reached for the ribbon and tugged it loose with a dramatic flourish. The lid creaked open, and her eyes grew comically wide.
"No way," she breathed. She reached in, lifted a giant floppy paw, and gasped. "You didn’t. You actually got me Zwei Jr.!"
She turned to Weiss, holding the plush monstrosity’s paw like it was a national treasure. "He’s even fluffier than I remember!"
Weiss folded her arms, feigning innocence. "You were obsessed with it when we saw it in that store last winter."
"You told me absolutely not!"
"I just... knew it would make you happy. And I wanted that more than anything today."
Ruby looked at her, caught off guard. The teasing faded from her expression, replaced by something softer, rounder. Awe. Her fingers curled tighter around Zwei Jr.'s plush fur.
"You're a total sap," she whispered, smiling like her heart had just grown three sizes.
Ruby leaned back down over the box to take a second look, eyes still wide with wonder. She gently nudged the plush’s ear aside to get a better view, like she half-expected the thing to wriggle or bark. Her grin widened as she took in every ridiculous, wonderful detail. Inside sat an enormous stuffed dog, vaguely resembling Zwei if Zwei had been supercharged with extra fluff and cuteness. Its tongue lolled, and it wore a tiny red cape.
"He has a cape," Ruby whispered.
Weiss tried not to smile. "Naturally."
Ruby turned back to her, still wide-eyed. She pulled Zwei Jr. from the box and close to her chest like a plush shield, then stuck out her bottom lip in an exaggerated pout. "You're not buttering me up because you have to go on another month-long work trip, are you? Because that would be so unfair. I mean, I might forgive you, but only if there are more pancakes."
The playful pout hit Weiss squarely in the heart. She opened her mouth to deflect... maybe tease Ruby back... but stopped herself. It struck her just how easy Ruby made it to be forgiven, to be seen without judgment. And that kind of kindness... especially toward her flaws... left her momentarily defenseless. There wasn’t any need to dodge. Not with her.
She let out a quiet breath, her expression softening.
Weiss looked away for a second, fingers fidgeting with the hem of her sleeve.
"I forgot," she said simply.
Ruby blinked. "Huh?"
"Your birthday," Weiss said, quieter now. "I forgot it was today. I woke up this morning and didn’t remember until Blake and Yang messaged. I had it in my planner, I thought... but… I messed up. And I didn’t want you to feel like I didn’t care, because I do. So I panicked. And… this happened."
Silence.
Ruby blinked at her, lips parting in surprise. For a second, she looked like she was trying to parse a language she didn’t speak. Then, her arms loosened around Zwei Jr., the stuffed dog slumping slightly as she stared at Weiss.
“That’s it?” Ruby asked, blinking at her with a mix of amusement and something impossibly soft. “You forgot?”
Weiss braced for judgment. For a second, she even considered launching into another explanation. But Ruby just smiled... bright and easy... and any breath Weiss had held escaped all at once.
“Weiss. You’re allowed to forget things sometimes,” Ruby said. “Especially when the person whose birthday it is didn’t even remember last year until you reminded her.”
Weiss blinked. “That’s not the point.”
“It kind of is.” Ruby leaned in, gently bumping their shoulders. “You forgot, and your solution was to panic-buy half the kingdom and make me strawberry pancakes. That’s not exactly neglect.”
“I just wanted you to feel special,” Weiss murmured.
“I did,” Ruby said without hesitation. “All day. I still do.”
That should not have made Weiss’s throat go tight. And yet.
“I panicked,” Weiss admitted, her hands falling to her sides as a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding slipped free. The tension in her shoulders eased, just barely, as she met Ruby’s soft, curious gaze. “I was already halfway through the kitchen when I thought it might still be a mistake. But I checked everything. It was today. I missed it. I thought...”
Her voice caught. She cleared her throat.
“I thought you’d think I didn’t care.”
Ruby gave Zwei Jr. a fond pat on the head and left him slouched upright against the side of the couch, then reached out. She took Weiss’s hand with zero hesitation, threading their fingers together like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
“Weiss,” she said, softly, “I figured something was up. I mean, you made pancakes and pretended not to be hungry. That was my first clue.”
A weak laugh bubbled up in Weiss’s chest. She hadn’t expected it... but Ruby’s smile made it impossible to hold back.
Ruby leaned in a little, her fingers still curled gently around Weiss’s. “You always go all out,” she said, voice soft. “But this? This was different.”
Weiss tilted her head, heart thudding.
“You weren’t just spoiling me,” Ruby continued. “You were trying to fix something you thought you broke. But Weiss… nothing ever felt broken.”
Her smile was impossibly warm.
“I felt so loved today. Completely.”
Weiss couldn’t breathe for a moment. The relief hit like a gust of wind... sudden, all-consuming... and she had to close her eyes just to ground herself. But before she could reply, Ruby added, quieter now, with a grin creeping onto her face:
"I'm actually kind of turned on right now.”
Weiss’s eyes flew open. “Excuse me?!”
Ruby just laughed, smug and delightfully unrepentant. “I mean, you bought me two websites’ worth of custom parts, Weiss. That’s dedication.”
Weiss sputtered. “That’s not... ! I wasn’t trying to... !” She buried her face in her hands, heat crawling up her neck. “Oh my gods.”
“It’s okay,” Ruby teased, nudging her shoulder. “I like it when you fuss over me.”
“You’re insufferable.”
“I’m charming, thank you.”
Weiss peeked at her through her fingers, still red-faced. “I forgot your special day,” she mumbled, voice barely above a whisper. “I wanted it to be perfect.”
Ruby’s smile dimmed... but only so she could meet Weiss’s eyes fully. She reached up, tucking a pale strand of hair behind Weiss’s ear with gentle precision.
“I got to spend the entire day with the most beautiful girl in the world,” she said, voice soft and steady. “It was already perfect.”
It wasn’t just the words. It was the way Ruby said them... like they were true, like there wasn’t even room for doubt.
Weiss’s heart cracked open. The tension she’d held since that first scroll buzzed finally eased, melting away like frost in sunlight. She leaned in before she could overthink it.
Their kiss was unhurried. Sweet. Full of unspoken apologies and overwhelming affection. Ruby’s hand slid up to cradle her jaw, and Weiss let herself melt into the contact, let herself believe that she could mess up and still be loved like this.
When they finally broke apart, Ruby rested her forehead against Weiss’s with a content sigh.
“This was the best birthday ever.”
Weiss let out a soft, disbelieving laugh. “Really?”
“Mhm.” Ruby leaned back, then shot a mischievous glance at the massive stuffed dog still propped by the couch. “Zwei Jr. gets partial credit.”
Weiss narrowed her eyes. “He is not sleeping in the bed with us.”
Ruby gasped, hand flying to her chest. “I can’t believe you’d make our son sleep on the floor!”
“He’s not our son, Ruby.”
“Then you explain that to his big, fluffy face.” Ruby wrapped her arm around him dramatically and held him between them like a plush judge presiding over a very silly custody battle.
Weiss pressed a hand to her temple. “You are incorrigible.”
“And you love me.”
“I do,” Weiss said, quieter now. “Hopelessly.”
Ruby grinned like she’d just won the lottery.
They curled up together on the couch, Ruby tucked under Weiss’s arm, Zwei Jr. nestled at their feet like an oversized pet. All around them, the chaos of ribbon and wrapping paper and empty boxes remained... but Weiss barely noticed it now.
Her heart was still racing. But this time, it wasn’t from panic... it was from the warm press of Ruby at her side and the faint scent of strawberries still lingering in the air.
It was from joy.