Chapter 1: Restless

"Who are you?"

...

She wraps herself around the little bundle cloaked in red, crying for someone who is not there. But she is here. She will always be here.

...

Three pairs of glowing red eyes peek out from the dark. A hungry growl escapes the curled lips, the gnarled teeth. Beaten and in terror, she throws herself onto the wagon, hoping in vain to save what lies inside.

…

The broken beat of the club pulses behind her. She stands face to face, surprised, yet pleased to see her there. But it's a long story. Too long of a story.

…

Light as dust she settles on to the box. Speechless and breath steady, while her own is staggered and worn. The discoloured eye taunts her, along with the smile. She grimaces and charges forward, eyes too soft a shade.

…

She approaches the figure, stood in Beacon's wake, and asks the question.

The dark haired woman removes the Grimm mask, letting her black curls fall in a wave behind her. She feels her stomach clench and stares into the eerily familiar dark-red eyes. It's like looking into a shadowed reflection.

Her face flushes hot with rage as her irises meet the stranger's in a standoff of crimson red.

"Yang," says the woman in a serious tone, "we have a lot to talk about."

/-/-/

Yang bolted up with a start, nearly tumbling out of her top bunk in the process. The room was almost black; a light glowed from the other side, Ruby's bunk. Yang hopped out of bed with a thud and cringed. Thankfully, Blake was having one of her restless cat nights and had already taken off (her bed was left empty yet neatly made). She then made her way across the room as quietly as possible so as not to disrupt her sleeping teammates.

Her little sister was sprawled across notes from history class and a half written report on the migratory patterns of Grimm. Zwei slept beside her, sprawled on his back, legs up, tongue hanging. Yang smiled, taking a moment to bask in the pride of how far Ruby had come. Beacon had been the greatest thing for her sister, and Yang couldn't be happier. Here she was, a first year student herself, and she got to bring her favourite part of home along with her.

She pulled a blanket over the sleeping girl, before stepping down to gathering her gym bag. She was nearly at the door when a displeased groan came from Weiss's bed.

"Yang, what are you doing?" she mumbled, still mostly asleep.

"I can't sleep," she said, "so I might as well start training early today."

Weiss threw her a disapproving glare. "You do realize it's two in the morning, right?"

"Huh…uhh, of course I do!" Yang grinned. This was an ungodly time to be up. She could deal with the dream waking her up at five, six o'clock, but she needed to be conscious for classes. "What are you doing up?"

"I heard something fall out of bed," said Weiss smartly. "At first I thought it was Blake getting up for a midnight stroll, but she'd already left… quietly I might add."

"Sorry, Weiss," Yang edged her way to the door. "I'll just go now."

"That would be wonderful." The other girl's scowl turned to a quizzical stare. "Are you alright?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"Your eyes are red."

"Oh," Yang blinked a few times. It was odd, she usually felt the energy of her semblance flowing through her when her eyes changed colour. "I had a pretty wild dream."

"Well as long as you don't start spontaneously combusting in your sleep you can dream about whatever you want," Weiss yawned. "And please try to get some. We have an early class with Professor Port tomorrow."

"Right."

"Quarter to eight sharp."

"Sure." Yang nodded and closed the door behind her.

She made her way to the gym, changed and threw her belongings into her locker. The metallic glint of Ember Celica caught her eye. As much as she loved the gauntlets, this wasn't the time to fool around with weapons. A misplaced blast could wake the entire school, and she really didn't want to explain that to Professor Goodwitch. She was still mighty peeved about the food fight between team RWBY and JNPR a few months back. She opted to wrap her wrists instead. On her way out, she stopped at the mirror to brush her golden locks aside, and check the colour of her eyes.

Soft purple stared back at her. Weiss was probably just seeing a weird reflection in the dark.

In the court yard not a soul was in sight, but Yang wasn't sure whether she was more relieved or disappointed. How silly of her to expect the woman from the train would actually show up right here at Beacon. The dream was just that after all…a dream.

Yang sighed and threw a punch at the open air. The motion was swift and powerful, yet she missed the extra boost from her gauntlets. She sidestepped, took a jab and swept underneath her invisible opponent.

Strike fast. Strike hard. She repeated the process with this in mind. And know when to take the blow. Timing was everything. For her semblance to activate she needed to be hit. She needed a little pain. Yang had spent years trying to figure it out. Small hits meant less energy, but taking a large attack early was dangerous. She had to fight with a balance of taking enough light punches to build herself up so she could absorb the hit that mattered. It was a risky, but she wouldn't want it any other way.

Yang finished with a wheel kick and thrusted her right fists forward. From behind she heard the soft patter of footsteps, elegant and light. She turned to see Blake, cast in the glow of the shattered moon.

"I think you missed one."

Yang jumped aside and punched the space to her right. "Did I get him?"

"You got him."

Blake smiled and cocked her head. The pupils of her amber eyes like saucers in the dark. "Couldn't sleep again?"

"Yeah," Yang scratched the back of her head. "I guess I'm turning into a bit of a late night wanderer myself."

"Doesn't this spin you up more?"

"I might as well do something useful," said Yang. "Besides what do you usually do on your nightly adventures when I'm not around?"

"I read," she said hugging a leather-bound book to her side.

"What? No searching for tips on the White-Fang?"

"Well, I do look into that sometimes, but it's like you said, Yang, I can't let the search control me."

Blake had this look in her eye. It was the 'Yang-you're-being-a-total-idiot' glare, but minus the playful edge.

"I'm not overdoing it, Blake."

"Waking up three nights in a row to train is kind of overdoing it."

"Three nights never killed anyone! Didn't you have fun yesterday? Running around campus, just the two of us. Best all-nighter yet!"

"It was late," Blake's eyes twitched oddly, as if she were miffed by something . "You can't keep up with this. I can't."

"Come on," said Yang, "You never sleep through the night."

"I'm usually only up for half an hour."

"Look," Yang threw her arms behind her head and turned on her heels. "It's not like I mean to get up. It's just this dream, and well, you know."

Blake responded with silence and a look of skepticism.

"What's that look for?"

"Oh," Blake sighed and turned toward the school, "and here I thought you were just looking for an excuse to hang out alone."

"You're such a tease," Yang punched her shoulder. "I love it!"

Blake smiled and rubbed her arm, mumbling a small "ouch" under her breath.

"But maybe Weiss is right," said Yang. "We have an early class, and with the field trip this weekend we really should get some sleep."

They made their way back to the lockers so Yang could change. Before stepping into the deserted halls, she took a quick glance back.

The courtyard stood empty as expected.

"Everything okay?" Blake asked.

"Yeah," said Yang as she turned back to her partner, "Everything's fine."

Author's Note: So this is my first fanfiction for RWBY. It's going to be a Yang centered fic. Honestly, I'm not too sure about how in character everyone is, but it's mostly because I feel we still have so much to discover about these girls in canon, that I'm not entirely sure how to portray them. It's going to be a longish story (maybe 8-10 chapters?), I have it nearly half written, but the dreaded writer's block has hit, so I'm hoping that by sharing this story I'll be re-inspired.