Hi, this is a sort of "Blood relative" of a short one-shot I wrote a while back called: Life and All Its Contrasts. As such, this will follow a sort of metaphorical format in the writing style (Like the last one), Never mention the characters by name (Like the last one) and be written in the middle of the night when I have nothing better to do (Like – you guessed it – the last one).

That said, fans of the RWBYverse should be able to figure out who I'm talking about (If not, then look at the list of characters in the story info, they will always say who it's about.

One thing that this story will differ from Life and All Its Contrasts will be that it isn't a romance genre, but a family one instead. Still spiritual though, just cause.

The Maternal Sister

She always watched over her, always protected her, and always loved her. It wasn't romantic, but it wasn't sisterly either. For it transcended the neediness of the former, or the requirement of the later. It was just. It was willing. But most of all, it was a choice. To fill the void that had been created within her when the real one left. She would be the fake one, hoping to meet the seemingly insurmountable capacity of the real one. To love her as deeply, and dutifully as possible.

It wasn't a choice made suddenly, or without much consideration. She had suffered at the loss of the real one too. The pain of the void was consuming. She would learn of another, one who had left first, and she hoped to find her and have her fill the void.

What a stupid fantasy, it was, but it was something to grasp to. She searched despite the hopelessness of the reality. Only to almost lose what little she still had.

Once she narrowly escaped. Thanks to the help of another. She looked at what she still had despite the void. Herself, and her. The smaller one who had been suffering like she had. She had searched for a way to fill both their voids. She then decided she would fill the smaller one's void. Even if her own void could never be sealed again, she would make sure the smaller one never again felt the pain she was all too familiar with.

She played with her. She laughed with her. She imparted what little extra knowledge she had to her. She took the role of the real one. She knew she could never be equal. But she did hope she'd be good enough for the smaller one. As they grew, so too did the bond they shared. For in the smaller one's eyes, she had become more than a sister.

She had become a maternal sister.

Author's note:

All of my stories that are related to The Maternal Sister and Life and All Its Contrasts will Have "relationships" at the front of the title.

And yes, I know a maternal sister is one who is your sister through your mother exclusively, which these two characters technically aren't. But it just felt poetic at the time of titling the story. So please bear with it.