Phantom Limb
The cold snow had just settled in in time for Yang's life to get ruffled again. Ruby had vanished. Gone without Yang or Taiyang even noticing.
First Blake, now Ruby.
They'd left her without a care. Sure, Yang had been short with Ruby the past few weeks, but she never expected her sister, her own flesh and blood, to up and leave.
There had to be some rule against that. Something prohibiting such an action in the sister handbook.
Yang slammed back against the wall. She was alone, as Taiyang had gone to look for Ruby. And who knew where Qrow was. That man never stayed in one place too long.
With a sigh, she rubbed the back of her head. It'd probably bruise. She'd had worse.
Automatically, she looked down at her missing hand. Was a cripple all she had been reduced to, doomed to mope forever?
"Seems so," Yang mutter, full of bitterness. As much as she might want to get out of bed, or the house for that matter, Yang just didn't. Her partner had left her.
Was she not good enough? Not good enough that Blake would leave in her time of need?
The huntress growled, determined to find Blake one day and kick her ass so hard she'd cough up a furball.
Flushed with a rare desire to leave the warm confines of her bed, Yang got up. With her father gone, she didn't have to worry about dealing with him. Taiyang cared, and Yang appreciated it. But sometimes she just wanted to be left alone.
Yang Xiao Long approached the door she hadn't breached in weeks. She reached forward to open the barrier between her and the rest of reality.
Nothing happened.
The huntress looked down at the door knob. She'd tilted her bandaged arm toward the metal orb, and not her left.
Gritting her teeth, she ripped the door open with her left hand. Every menial task had quickly become some form of challenge.
She didn't even want to think about how difficult writing would be.
Yang entered the kitchen, seeking a glace of water to calm her anger down. Without the drive her semblance required, it was useless to get angry.
Remembering to use her left hand, she turned the faucet on.
And at the same time, positioned her arm so it would get hit by the spout of water.
"Damn!" an irritated Yang swore. Would nothing work out?
She aggressively drank the cup of water. Yang didn't even know it was possibly to angrily drink water. The ire she felt taught her differently, however.
When she caught up to that red haired man who'd cut her arm off, she was going to make him pay.
Someday.
Defeated by a sink, Yang slinked back to her room much in a way that reminded her of Blake.
She threw her arm forward to knock the door away, only to be hit by the unmoving wood. Swearing more than a sailor running out of booze, Yang entered her room.
And found it to not be empty.
A tri-color haired woman bounced lightly on her bed as she sat, waiting for Yang. Neo cocked her head as the huntress fixed her with a harsh expression.
Wildly, Yang went for Ember Celica resting on her desk. One hand would have to do for a fight.
Whipped the gauntlet on with practiced ease, the blonde spun about, ready to punch the little woman.
She was stopped by Neo holding up a notebook. She had written a single phrase on it: 'I'm not here to fight.'
Yang paused, something she would look back on as foolish and weak. Neo breathed a sigh of contentment, which seemed to be the extent of her verbal abilities. Not lowering her fist, Yang spat out a single word, "Explain."
Neo's hand flipped the notebook around and wrote with speed lightning would be envious of. Within seconds, she showed Yang a message of neat, to-the-point handwriting.
It said: 'I came here to see if you would be interested in going after Cinder? I could use a partner.'
Blindsided, and very suspicious, Yang frowned, "Why?"
Neo paused, as if debating the words in which she wanted to say. Finally, she tucked the notebook inside a small bag at her side.
"I thought we had a moment on the train. One where we really bonded," Neo spoke. Her speech lacked where her writing speed excelled. The latter was clean and practiced from constant use. The former was lower than to be expected, and each syllable carried a cumbersome weight to it.
"You can speak?" Yang said, surprised. Ruby had made it seem like Neo couldn't speak at all from her encounter with the ice cream girl.
"It's called selective mutism," snapped Neo. Within a moment, she regained her calm. In a slower, more careful tone, she continued, "I'm going on a revenge mission. I thought you could sympathize."
"Revenge for what?" Yang asked. By now, she'd lowered her fist. A form of trust? Maybe. Yang would have said it was giving up, as they both knew Yang had no chance against the intruder.
Her eyes flickered between colors, never settling on one for more than a blink. "She got Roman killed," hissed Neo. Her voice turned shrill, and nearly caused Yang to flinch. "Do you know what it's like, losing someone so close to you that weeks later you still call out their name, expecting them to respond with a smile?"
"Yes," Yang replied, clenching her fists in anger. It still felt like two.
Neo had the decency to lower her head and quietly say, "Sorry."
Yang stepped back, putting a little distance between the two women. "I can't go with you. I'm useless, and I can't trust you."
"Blunt," chuckled Neo, though there was no mirth in the laugh. "If you can't trust me, why not trust my motive? Trust revenge, and get back at the woman who killed your friends and was responsible for your arm."
Yang glanced down at her arm, and back at Neo, "I can't fight."
"And I happen to be a good teacher," Neo cocked her head to the side. "All I need is a partner, someone to help me along. You being able to fight would be a bonus."
Anger flared in Yang, "You're not my partner. Blake is."
"And where is she?" Neo asked, raising an eyebrow. A low blow, but necessary. "You have to potential to be one of the best huntresses of the generation. Almost as good as me. Are you going to waste it laying in a bed for the rest of your life? Are you a fighter, Yang?"
Yes, whispered her mind. The fire of determination that had once glowed as bright as a bonfire now hit a crescendo. I burn, it uttered, encompassing Yang in heat. Her eyes glowed red.
Neo extended a hand to Yang, and said, "Take my hand, Yang. You only need one to do that."
The huntress, against all logic and judgement, took the woman's hand. It was soft and cold, like a bowl of ice cream.
But in Yang's mind, she'd grabbed with both hands.
Author Notes: I went with the Selectively Mute!Neo this time. I'm not a huge fan, but it was how it had to work for this story.
If you liked this, consider checking out either of my other two oneshots!
