Usual Disclaimer: I don't own this. Rooster Teeth does. And I am not Rooster Teeth, just a person with too much time on their hands.

Complications

Chapter 1: The Rose

He was packing up his equipment in the dojo when Ozpin called out to him.

Ah. Pay attention, Oscar, you might enjoy this.

Oscar paused, looking around to see what the old man was referring to. Through the open door of the dojo, he could see Ruby Rose across the training grounds. The sun was beginning to dip behind the trees, painting her cloak in brilliant orange and casting long shadows over the packed earth.

I don't think you've gotten a chance to see Miss Rose wield her weapon before. I assure you, it's quite the sight.

Oscar stepped outside, immediately curious. They'd been training in only hand-to-hand combat since he arrived. And even now that he was surrounded by huntsmen and huntresses, he still hadn't gotten to see one in action.

"Ohhhh, my sweet Crescent Rose, it's been too long," Ruby was saying, holding an odd rectangle of red metal in her hands and stroking it lovingly.

Oscar leaned on the fence and raised an eyebrow. What is that thing?

You'll see, Ozpin said. Their connection was growing stronger daily, and while he still could only hear little bits and pieces of the old man's private thoughts, he could reliably gauge his emotions. And right now, Ozpin was feeling amused.

At the far end of the training grounds, Ruby's sister stood behind several stacks of clay discs, rubbing her hands together and grinning toothily. "You ready, sis?" she called.

Ruby was practically bouncing with anticipation, holding her red rectangle in both hands like a gun, which Oscar realized probably meant it was one. "Pull!" she shouted.

Discs began flying as Yang moved with ferocious speed, punching and kicking the stacks. Ruby raised her gun and fired three shots in quick succession, and three discs puffed into dust with a satisfying clatter. More flew in to take their place.

Ruby gave a laugh of pure joy and Oscar's mouth fell open in amazement as her rectangle sprang apart and unfolded, forming into a massive red scythe. Of all the weapons he'd expected Ruby – sweet and kind and only a little bigger than him – to wield, a towering scythe had not been one of them. Inside his head, Ozpin was chuckling.

And he certainly hadn't expected her to move like this. Clay pigeons smashed with every turn of the massive blade, as Ruby ducked and wove and spun, twirling the weapon not only effortlessly, but with a zeal and exhilaration that was unmistakable. This was the girl who had barely been able to throw a punch in their first training session?

He was spellbound. She moved like she'd been born for battle, like she and the scythe were one unit, perfectly attuned. Her face was lit up with a brilliant smile, the orange light of the sunset glinting off her silver eyes as she hunted down every disc. Not a single one escaped her flurry of strikes. Her red cloak trailed rose petals as she activated her Semblance with pinpoint accuracy.

"Wow," he breathed.

The stacks of clay pigeons dwindled quickly, and Yang hurled the last one like a Frisbee, so swiftly that it whined as it sped through the air. With unflinching determination, Ruby slammed her blade into the ground and fired a single shot. The disc shattered inches from her face, and Yang cheered.

You're right, Ozpin, Oscar thought. She's... incredible.

Clay dust was now drifting down over the training grounds like a localized snowstorm, muting the black in Ruby's hair, and when her sister clapped her on the back in congratulations, a cloud of it billowed out from her cloak. They dissolved into peals of laughter, and coughing, and more laughter.

She caught his eye as she shook the dust out of her hair, and waved across the training grounds at him, her face beaming. He returned the wave, feeling an odd flutter in his chest.

Oh, no...

What? He thought back at Ozpin.

It's nothing, Ozpin replied. But he could feel a change in that current of emotion – Where there had been amusement and even pride, now there was... concern? Uneasiness? He couldn't pin down the feeling, exactly.

But he was able to catch just a trace of the old man's inner thoughts:

You're a very foolish man, Ozpin.