She paced their room, boots quiet even on hard wood. It was one of those things you learn as a Huntress, a skill they beat into you until it becomes a part of you, and you don't know how to walk any other way. The phone in her hand rang, and rang, and rang. Her thumb padded the touch screen again, turning it off rather than leave another message. Her pacing quickened; her hands sought something to do, fussing at her clothes and hair when they weren't dialing a number.
"Ruby," she said the next time the tinny, mechanical voice prompted her to leave a message after the tone. "This isn't cool. You promised me you wouldn't do this. Get your ass back to Beacon or you are not graduating." Stopping long enough to stare out the window, the vague reflection of her stern gaze glared back at her. "Do you understand? The old man can and will drop you back a year for not attending the ceremony." Pausing again, she didn't end this message like the others— call me back— but instead, "You promised me."
She ran out of time. Watching the sun set on her last day at Beacon, Yang held out until the very last rays were gone before she lost it.
"God damn it!"
Clutching the phone in her hand hard enough that the glass screen shattered in her grip, she somehow resisted the urge to do the same to the window. The crack etched like a lightning strike across the cover, almost undoing the whole phone.
Behind her, the door swung wide open, Weiss deliberately clacking her heels on the floor to announce her arrival. "Knock knock," she said in lieu of actually knocking, going straight to Yang and putting a hand on her shoulder. "Has Ruby come back yet?" She asked, before backtracking once she saw the cloud that had settled over Yang's face. "Ugh, never mind, I can see the answer is no." Not skipping a beat, she began pulling Yang out of her room. "I don't see why you're so stressed about this, she was already fitted for her robe and she's got plenty of time before the ceremony tomorrow. And if Ruby wants to be a petulant crybaby and hide away on her last night as a student, well, that's not our business, is it?"
Yang, for her part, allowed herself to be half dragged, half herded out into the hallway, letting Weiss lock the door with her spare key. "I can't leave. She stole my bike, Weiss," Yang said, a numb fury still billowing just under the surface. "She could have just asked."
"Good thing I don't care?" She shrugged. "I can call us a cab. Blake's already waiting for us. We need to celebrate, you wretched little angst monster, and we can't do that without you. So come on." Bracing herself, she stood behind Yang and leaned into her shoulder first, as though she were trying to break down a wall. Yang dug in her feet, locked in place with a permanent scowl.
Weiss sighed helplessly. "Look," she said, pressing the heel of her palm against her forehead and trying to soothe out an imaginary headache. "I get it, you're mad your sister ditched. I really do— she's my partner, for crying out loud. I'll look like an idiot if I go up there alone tomorrow for the parting ceremony. How do you think I feel?"
"You might be her partner, but I'm her family, and I don't think you and I can really commiserate on this, okay?" Yang traced the cracked lines on her phone, digging out splinters of glass with her fingernail and flicking them away, piece by piece. Weiss eyed her with an increasingly deep frown. "She's been acting weird lately."
Circling around her, Weiss snapped her fingers in Yang's face, trying to get her to focus. Blinking away whatever had been clouding her eyes, Yang looked up from her phone to see Weiss already steaming up for a great, rambling rant. "No duh, genius," she said, visibly tensing up as she crossed her arms, eyes alight with anger. "This is the time of year Ruby always gets weird and vanishes for a day or two, or did you conveniently forget that? Just because it's graduation doesn't mean she's going to stop, and yes it's terrible she took your bike but that just means she wants to get there quicker and return home sooner for graduation because I knowthat child travels everywhere by foot like an idiot, and yes of course I'm worried about her, who do you think I am? She's my partner and by now I hope you're aware I care about her, but it's not like any of us know where she sneaks off to, so—"
"I do," Yang said, cutting her short.
Pulling herself out of whatever she was about to say, Weiss took a moment to reassemble her thoughts. "Excuse me?"
"I know where she is, where she goes every year." Scuffing the floor with the toe of her boot, Yang set her phone on the loudest level it could reach in case Ruby called before tucking it into her pocket. "It's something I asked her not to do this year, because it always messes her up, and… tomorrow was supposed to be special for us."
Weiss was still stuck. "…Excuse me?" she said again, more shrilly. Yang resisted the urge to tell her she was excused. "We all figured she was lost or dead in a ditch somewhere that first year and you knew and you didn't tell us?" she accused, waving her arms wildly, not even sure where to point the blame, looking like a cat with her fur raised and claws unsheathed. "No— not even— Not even that. Right now. You know where she is, right now. So why aren't you out there dragging her back by the ear?"
Sighing deeply, Yang tilted her head back, covered her eyes with both hands, and dragged them down before cupping them behind her neck. "I just want her to be happy," she said.
And then she told her, more or less.
The color left her face. She held out one hand, leaning on the wall. "And you let her do this alone?"
That struck Yang as particularly odd. Why wouldn't Ruby want to be alone? "If she wanted me to come, she'd ask me," Yang pointed out, aware that she sounded petulant and whining, and not caring one bit. "…And she promised."
In her eyes, that was that. Ruby made her decision, and it wouldn't be Yang's responsibility to make sure she showed up to her graduation on time. No more use debating it.
Two minutes later Weiss was shoving her into the backseat of a cab, headfirst. The leather squeaked under the bare skin of her thighs. "Take my credit card," Weiss said, flicking it out and pressing it into Yang's palm. "Don't take your time. And go get your sister."
She slammed the door shut, almost pinching Yang's feet off by the ankles.
OoOoOo
There was only so far the cab could take her. For the first thirty minutes she debated with herself, furiously considering ditching everyone to go find a quiet bar somewhere and get blitzed alone to celebrate the end of her four years at Beacon. Anger still bubbled deep inside her, a childish knee-jerk reaction to what she viewed as a major betrayal. Head against the glass and her chin in her hand, she watched the street lights whip past her like a dozen cameras going off all at once.
The next forty minutes were spent berating herself for being the shittiest sister in existence. She was the worst. It was her.
By the time they reached the end of the road five hours later, she had reconciled herself to the fact that Ruby needed her right now. That even if stealing her bike and taking off without warning was a dick move, she loved her too much to do anything except what she was doing. They made a quick pit stop at a gas station, drove as far as they could. When it became too much closer to Grimm territory than human lands she gratefully thanked the driver, paid him, and told him she would find her own way back.
By now the road was little more than a long line of dirt, paved streets a long lost dream. Weeds scraggled up around her ankles as she stepped out to tap on his window, signaling for him to leave. To her surprise, it lowered, and the car idled in place. He eyed her up and down, not in the usual way. "I don't really know how I feel about leaving a sweet girl like you here," he admitted around a toothpick, the end bobbing up and down like it agreed with him.
"Yo man, don't sweat it. I'm a Huntress," Yang said, for the first time in her life. Pulling out her ID and flashing it, her chest swelled with pride her as his gaze focused on her a little sharper, really taking her in now. The armor, the Dust capsules, the scars nicking her exposed skin. "I'll be fine."
He spat the toothpick out. "All right, ma'am," he said, and she couldn't help but dance inside at the immediate tone of respect that had entered his voice. "Guess you've got business here. Be safe, huh?"
"Yeah. You too."
It crawled off, the driver honking once as he left. Pocketing her ID and Weiss' card, she shouldered the small bag of snacks she had purchased, plastic crackling loudly in the stillness of the forest. Licking her dry lips, Yang whistled tunelessly, hoping her memory served her well enough to lead her to the right spot. Her feet found game trails and the odd human path, hacked away with steel and Dust. Whenever she felt that she might be going astray, she tapped into her Aura, searching for the one that was most attuned with hers.
Red flared up, bright and obvious in her mind's eye.
When she found the grave site, she immediately regretted coming. This was Ruby's personal business. She had no say in whether or not her sister should come home. What was she thinking? Pushing past it all, she made sure her steps made noise as she sat next to her sister on the ground in front of her mother's grave.
"Hey," Ruby said, her hood pulled up well over her eyes. "I parked the bike somewhere safe."
Yang wordlessly pulled a sandwich from her bag and offered it to her, cracking open a soda tab with her other hand.
OoOoOo
Every year around the anniversary of her mother's death, Ruby went to visit her grave. She always came back looking more fine-boned than usual, generally covered in the black, pitch-like blood of the creatures of Grimm. It started when she was only fifteen. It got worse every year. They had a system: Ruby would do her thing, and Yang would stay back and worry and be there to pick her back up when she came stumbling home, ravenous and exhausted and filthy. Bathe her, talk to her, feed her, whatever she needed. She didn't know how to ask her to stop— worse still, didn't know if she would listen.
Being a Huntress burned enough calories that Ruby could safely snack from sunup to sundown and never gain a pound, but she had gone almost 12 hours without eating a single bite. Yang had anticipated this, bringing enough to feed a small army. A half a dozen cans rattled around them as they talked, softly, so as to not disturb the grave.
"What, no beer?" Ruby asked, rummaging through the things Yang had bought.
Yang slapped her wrist, growling low. "We're in a Grimm-infested forest in the middle of the night," she said, popping off the tab on another can. "The last thing we need is to be drunk on top of it all."
"I was just asking," Ruby huffed, holding her hand to her chest as though Yang had actually hurt her. "It's our celebration night, after all." Pulling her knees up to her chest, she held them, looking out at the worn stone tablet in front of them. "That's why you finally came, isn't it? After four years."
She took a long, careful sip. "Maybe," she said after the fizzing ache left her mouth. A burning belch escaped her; she thumped her own chest to try and dislodge any more that might be lurking. "I don't know. Weiss kind of bullied me into it."
"You told Weiss?"
"I had to tell someone."
Picking up another bag of chips, she tore it open. "I guess that's fair," she said, though her tone of voice said she didn't guess at all.
"C'mere." Scooting closer to her, Yang curled one arm under Ruby's head, pulling her in closer to lean on her shoulder. "Now, tell me. About what it is you do here."
"…I talk to her," Ruby said, relaxing into her arms and sighing. The tension left her body as Yang kissed her forehead, fingers finding the knots on the back of her neck and slowly trying to work them out. "I tell her about my life. My friends, my progress. I ask her for advice, not that I really expect a grave to talk back."
Her tone dropped, a dark edge cutting into her words. "…I kill monsters," she went on, fingers curling in the fabric of her skirt, bunching it up in her hands. "I kill as many as I can. More than I should take on alone. And when I can't take any more, I walk home. In four years, I've almost completely cleared out this entire area by myself."
In spite of herself, Yang whistled in approval. "That's my girl."
"Thanks." A faint smile wisped away as soon as it graced her features. "I just hope she would have felt the same way."
There were a lot of things she wanted to say in response to that. That Ruby's mom was dead, and dead people probably don't care about the affairs of the living, if they care about anything at all. That Ruby needed some sort of closure, and letting herself be haunted by the idea of a person she never even met couldn't be healthy. That there were other ways to achieve catharsis. That four years of this was enough, and she needed to graduate from more than her school. That if thiswasn't enough, she would come with her next year, and the year after that. That she was sorry it took her this long to come at all.
Yang squeezed her as tight as she could. "I know she would be proud of you. Anyone not proud of the kickass person you've become wouldn't be worth your time, TBH. So don't worry about that."
"I know," Ruby said. "I know."
It took a bit of coaxing, but Yang got her to her feet in the end, cutting Ruby's visit to her mother short. There was no way Yang was allowing her to spend the night out here, and she was taking her home. One arm around Ruby's waist, Yang let her lead them to where she hid the bike. She forced Ruby to wear the helmet, reminding her that Yang's bike meant Yang's rules.
"I hope Weiss and Blake aren't still waiting for us," Ruby said in sudden concern as she snapped the helmet on and adjusted the straps. "It really wasn't cool of me to ditch you guys on our last night, was it?"
The motor roared between Yang's legs as she revved her up, a satisfying purr vibrating in the way that made her throat tighten with excitement. "Ruby, it's too late to worry about that. I'm sure they had lots of fun without us while we played hobo in the forest."
"Well," Ruby said, settling behind her and holding on tight. "Either way, I think I've been gone long enough."
Yang agreed, if her enthusiastic revving was any indication. Only pausing long enough to make sure Ruby was safely seated, she tore off into the night, tail lights leaving a hazy red trail in their wake.
