"Don't touch that!" Blake snapped at the smiling blonde and snatched the small object out of Yang's hands.
Yang's violet eyes widened with a combination of regret and surprise. She put her hands out palms up in a placating motion.
"Oh, Blake, I'm sorry! My hand just touched something hard, and it seemed weird for that to be your pillow…" Yang looked confused and apologetic, her smile had vanished, replaced with a look of concern as her eyebrows furrowed and the corners of her lips turned down.
Blake placed it back under her pillow, carefully securing its rightful place in her pillowcase. She felt a rush of shame as she looked into Yang's wounded and worried face. She sighed.
"I'm sorry, Yang…" Blake looked at the space on the bed between them, unable to bring her eyes up to meet her partner's. "It's just…" The words seemed to stick onto her tongue. "It's nothing."
The hurt was replaced by curiosity as Yang searched Blake's face in the soft moonlight that bathed their room. She reached over and took Blake's hand and brought it to her lips for a gentle kiss, flashing a reassuring smile. "No worries, sweets… I won't touch it again."
Blake could feel that Yang was dying to ask what the mysterious object was, but she also took comfort in the fact that she won't put voice to that question. In her typical sensitive fashion, her girlfriend tried not to push too hard too fast, especially about things that Blake held close to her heart and deliberately shrouded in darkness and secrecy. And usually Blake would continue to keep her secrets close and guarded. But this thing… She wanted to tell Yang what it was, what it meant. It was so important to her, what it represented and the Faunus felt like maybe she wanted someone to understand her, to know her.
The raven haired girl took the small object back out from the safety of the pillowcase. She presented it to Yang and her girlfriend responded by studying her face intently. Reaching out to take her girlfriend's hand, Blake placed the item into Yang's palm. She felt a pang of panic as the object left her custody. She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, searching through her mind for the words she needed.
"I love you," Blake said matter-of-factly, like that should explain everything. She found herself floundering for the additional explanation.
"I love you, too?" The brawler almost sounded like she was asking a question.
Blake began slowly, as though the words were fighting to leave her mouth. Her voice was soft as she almost whispered to her partner.
"It was my sixth birthday…"
At the break of dawn, Blake came bounding down the hallway of her small house that she shared with her parents. Neither were home, but the girl knew that it was only a matter of time before they came home. And today was a special day; it was her birthday! Best of all, this meant that her father was sure to come and see her today. Her mother had told Blake that her dad had a very important job to do. It meant that he was away for much of the time. According to her mom, he was on a single mission: to make the world a better place for his daughter.
At the time, Blake didn't know what this meant. The world didn't seem like it was a bad place, desperately needing improvement. Sure, she had encountered bullying when she had been out with other kids. "Animal" "Freak" "Faunus" all thrown at her as insults. She would come home, crying and upset, not comprehending why her ears and her eyes would make her be the subject of hostility. Still, her parents' reassurance was sufficient for her to continue to be a happy kid, letting prejudice roll right off of her back. All she needed was their love.
When her father was home, Blake would try to get as much of his attention as she could. She would follow him around their small home telling him about the stories that she was reading. Her father had bestowed his love of the written word onto his daughter. Some of her favorite memories were of the rare occasions that he would sit close and put his arm around her in her bed and read to her. The books were always about good conquering evil, on how the right choices were often not the easiest. More recently, when he was home, he was often in the bedroom, papers and maps strewn in front of him as her mother stood by, face strained with concern. She could tell that what her parents were up to was secret. They talked about things behind closed doors, in hushed voices. Blake had noticed the suspicious glances that her father would shoot any strange noise causing the man's feline ears would flatten and narrow with an emotion the girl didn't really comprehend.
There had been something more urgent, something that drained the color from her mother's cheeks and seemed to make her father's face age before her eyes. That night when he packed his bag, he picked up Blake and carried the little girl to her room and sat her on her bed.
"I have a surprise for you, kitten," He scratched her ears playfully. In his hand was a small gift bag. It was made of plain paper with a small yellow ribbon tied in a neat bow.
Blake squeaked with excitement, "Oh, daddy! What is it?"
He handed her the bag and gave her a nod of approval. Blake tore into the bag, barely able to contain her excitement. Buried deep at the bottom, she felt it and pulled her prize out.
It was a reddish-brown wooden object that was flat on the top, with a piece of bamboo sticking out it. The underside tapered into a point. It was about the size of her thumb. Blake turned it over in her hand and examined it. She spotted her name, carved around the middle. She looked up at her father with a puzzled expression.
Her father smiled down at her warmly, but there was also something almost sad in his eyes. "So, this a top, sweetie. When I was in Vale the last time, I got it for you. And I waited to give it to you. I was about your age when my father gave me one. Maybe a bit younger…" His voice caught for a moment and then trailed off and he stared at the wall, lost in his memory.
"Daddy?" Blake felt uncomfortable in the silence. She hadn't heard much about Grandpa, other than the fact that he had disappeared when her father was a child. And even then, it was her mother that finally answered her incessant questions about where her father's parents were and why wouldn't he talk about them.
"Sorry, kitten. So this was the best that I can do until your birthday," His smile returned and he climbed off of her bed and onto the floor. "Here, I'll show you how it works."
"Are you gonna come back before my birthday, Daddy?" Her small voice was filled with hope. She didn't budge from the bed, looking at him expectantly.
Her father shook his head, "No, honey. But I will be back on your birthday and not a day later. I promise."
Feeling satisfied with his answer, Blake followed suit and sat on the floor across from her father, holding the top in her hand.
Her father took out a slightly larger top from his pocket. The girl could see faint writing on his top as well, but time had worn it down to be illegible. He placed the wooden toy on the ground and with a snap of his wrist, the top took off and spun in place.
Blake gasped in awe and watched the top go and go. She was sure it could spin forever! After watching his daughter's joyful face for what would never be enough time, her father snatched the top off of the floor.
"You try, Blakey pie" The girl laughed and smiled up at her father's face. His names for her always made her feel like she was being tickled. She focused at her given task and diligently attempted to copy her father's motions with her own hands and top. The wooden toy spun for a handful of seconds and then fell over, sliding into the wall. Her face fell.
Her father's laugh filled the room with warmth and love. Blake looked at him skeptically, still looked less than impressed at her efforts.
"Oh, that was way better than my first try! You're a natural, kitten! Don't be afraid to spin it harder." He gave her a pat on the shoulder, squeezing it gently for a moment.
Her ears rang with joy at her father's approval and enthusiasm. She ran over to the top and set it back down in front of him, putting more effort into her spin.
Hours laters, she was still an apprentice at best. And her father had sat there for very second of it, cheering her on, praising her efforts, and just laughing that laugh. He tucked her in bed that night and kissed her forehead. He took the her top and placed it into her pillowcase.
He leaned in and whispered into her ear, "Here's a secret, honey, it's a magic top. It's purpose is to remind you that you can always choose good, and as long as you keep it with you, it will give you the strength to make the hardest choices." Blake listened intently and memorized his words, feeling their importance but not grasping why he was saying them. He planted a kiss on her nose and with that he was gone. Sleep came so easily that night.
His departure a month ago, along with his promise to be back for this special day, were still very fresh in Blake's young mind. Promises were simply not broken. She sat on the front porch, amber eyes impatiently scanning the road for any signs of her parents. She spun her magic top, her mind alive with images of how she was going to show her father how much she had been practicing. She was pretty sure he'd be impressed. The girl imagined that the toy gave her strength and determination to become an expert. And so she waited, spinning and spinning. Watching and waiting.
The girl awoke much later that night, still on the pouch, laying in a curled ball. Her face was pressed against the ground, top clenched in her small fist. She wasn't sure when she had gotten too tired and fall asleep. Blake had fought that urge with every bone in her little body. She had wanted to see them coming up the road together. The relief on their faces was worth it every time. Her sensitive feline ears twitched in alert as they picked up movement down the road.
Looking up, Blake saw her mother coming up the road and she was immediately overjoyed. She ran down the path to greet her. As she approached, she could see the look on her mom's face… she was certain that she would never be able to forget it.
As Blake finished her story, Yang's tear-filled eyes were glued to her, the empathy and emotion practically radiating from her. She looked down at the wooden top in her hand and at the carefully inscribed, lightly faded "Blakey."
"You never said anything…" Yang's voice was uncharacteristically soft and delicate. "I'm so sorry, Blake. I understand." And then she wrapped Blake into her arms, pulling her tightly against her chest.
And Blake knew that her partner did understand. She knew loss, she knew pain. Blake had no idea why she had never told her. She clung to Yang and felt her own emotions welling up inside of her, suddenly remembering that it was this exact feeling that had made her hide her heartbreak. The absence of control was almost too much to bear as she opened the wound of her heartbreak. But as she felt the warmth of Yang's body, felt the tears that were streaming down her face falling on to her legs, the rough embrace as she shared in Blake's pain, Blake realized that she had been very wrong. It felt vulnerable and deeply cutting, but she felt a weight lifted as the burden became shared between the two partners. She had internalized Yang's own loss long ago, but had denied Yang the opportunity to lessen her grief. And for those moments, as she had told her partner that last memory of him, she was in that room with her father again, spinning and laughing.
Blake pulled away from Yang and smiled, "You know what… Your laugh. It's like his. So warm, so just… It makes me happy."
Yang pulled her Blake to her lips and kissed her softly, tasting of salty tears. Her water filled eyes fell onto the wooden toy.
"Let's keep this safe, shall we?" Yang tucked the top back into the pillowcase. She laid back onto her side of the bed and extended her arms to Blake, who laid down along her side, allowing herself to be snuggled. She rested her head on Yang's chest and hugged her tightly. Sleep came so easily that night.