Well, well, well... here we are again. For those of you left, anyway.

For those just joining, I recommend going back to Part1 of this epic, trying that out. If you don't like my style of writing there, you sure as hell won't be able to handle this either. I make no apologies for my verbose style, I am not a professional writer and this is not something professional that will ever be published in a serious manner. This is practice much like what most people call 'real life'.

It's taken me an admittedly long time to get back to this story. Lots of personal stuff I am not going to bother you with, but most of that has been smoothed out now. That doesn't mean that I am going to be devoting a great deal of time to this, though, so don't expect a ridged schedule of publication. Extra-life activities come first, followed by those necessities such as eating, bathing, etc. Way in third is school (as if I had time for that!). My auto-fornication of writing comes somewhere way at the bottom.

That being said, my efficiency has been high lately and can be stimulated further by glowing (or glowering, your choice, but the latter might not help) reviews.

Alright, nothing more to gripe about to pad this Author's note out any longer. So what are you waiting for? Get reading!

I am only going to say this once: I do not own Naruto, RWBY, Gogol Bordello (or any derivative works) or any other references I knowingly or unknowingly bring up in this creative work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is because I hate you.

The scrap of mahogany wood stuck up like a sail in the foggy morning dew. The rest of the ancient desk wouldn't be far beneath in the sea of homogenous grey rubble. With a simple flick of her wrist, it would whole once again, no sign that it had ever been separated.

If only the rest of their lives were so simple.

It had always been Glynda's responsibility to mend what was broken within the confines of that scholastic cloister. But that construct of order was gone, now, that bastion of regulation and comprehension finished. All learning from here on would be done out in the open, as raw and bare as her arms felt in the cool pre-dawn, all lessons as chill and uncomfortable as she was now standing there alone and exposed to the elements. Everything that much harder.

And the task now fell to her, alone. Others might try and step up to lend a hand where they could, but ultimately it was the responsibility that she had accepted long ago. Of course, she neither had envisioned nor envied the task ever truly falling to her, as much as she could never foresee a world in which her friend and mentor no longer resided. Nonetheless, she would have to shoulder the burden of mending not only the physical structure, but the shattered dreams and broken bonds which had been forged within. That would be the hard part, and could not be salved so easily.

Still, they were, most all of them, alive and able to do so. Which seemed a Pyric victory with the loss of their headmaster. The path ahead of them all still loomed daunting, a Sisyphean a task as any. Still, they had to start somewhere. And there was precious little more to fall when lying in the gutter.

With a twitch of the wrist like a snapping of a twig in the halcyon stillness, the storied piece of furniture was reassembled before her. Along with the plush emerald seating, it sat incongruously amongst the rubble, waiting to be filled. Waiting for her to fill it. Though infinitely more comfortable than her previous workspace, the smooth surface of the armrest, polished to the grain from constant use felt distinctly out of place to her touch.

She would have to get used to it.

Breathing deeply, she was ironically grateful that although she had reassembled the desk to its previous likeness, she had not managed to retrieve the idiosyncrasies that had plagued it. The chair no longer squeaked. The right-hand drawer no longer hung up when opened fully.

It no longer smelled like him.

That peculiar scent of coffee and musk that one normally associated with old books was no longer present, overpowered by the lingering chalky dust that filled the air, subdued only by the heavy shroud of mist. And so, perhaps his ghost would not linger so in her mind as she fortified herself behind it, steeled herself for taking up his mantle as her own.

It was wishful thinking.

The past was always there, no matter how hard one tried to erase it. Even the young man whose predicament most filled her mind with concern could not escape this fact. Even though he had lost a significant portion of his former life, he was not immune to its persuasion. Not with a living fossil of his memory hanging like a specter on the peripheries of his thoughts.

And here she was, exhuming a relic of her own past, unable to move on without a tangible place to start. Humans were such whimsical creatures that way. She could no more rely on the inanimate object under her calloused palms to guide her in this endeavor than she could count on the crumbled walls to keep the oncoming rain from soaking her.

And yet, where were they without their past? They would never be who they were now without it, and perhaps this was why the universe seemed so adamant about preventing their regression. Everything in it was built on top of what came before. The only way was forward. The only thing to do pick oneself up off the ground. And it was perhaps this simplification that made the situation doable. Even if the forces of the universe had conspired to try and erase their origins, she, as well as that confused young man were still fundamentally the same people, which gave her hope that they could both, that they could all, move on from this. They would have to.

Everyone was equal parts forged from their birth and honed by their environment to be who they were. For the moment they all would have to rely more heavily on the influence of the former. To trust their innate ability to make the correct choices to dig them out of the pit they now found themselves in.

Despite it all, Glynda found herself with faith that they could accomplish it, that they could successfully pick it all up and begin again.

He was trying hard not to crumble. To be fair, he was doing an admirable job at it, and the shell which showed on the outside bore no cracks nor hint of what turmoil lay underneath. Even from the inside looking out it was hard to be aware of anything anomalous. But there were indeed ripples and waves which reverberated in his mind and trusted memories. Resonances striking an off note which threatened to tear him apart were he not constantly alert.

It was easy to be complacent. Everything seemed so solid, so correct and well placed in his stratigraphic procession. All his memories existed like fine sediments suspended in a silty matrix, making up the layers of his life, one stacked on top of the other. But nowhere in there was this person who claimed so fundamental a role in his chemical makeup. How could he not remember someone who should be a cornerstone of his purpose and existence?

It was far easier, and far more rational to assume what was evidently true, that the person named "Sasuke Uchiha" had never once crossed paths with the one known as Naruto Uzumaki. The way in which he currently saw the world, Sasuke had no place in it. There was no room for the dark and recalcitrant teen in that framework which bore him up.

And yet…

Those uneasy tremors radiated from somewhere. They had a focus, buried and unknown, suggesting a hole never quite filled. Cracks which had never completely mended in whatever mental orogeny had cataclysmically shifted his mind after his epic battle, still floating on the surface of his conscious.

But even though he could not seem to identify all his components, track down all the factors that made Naruto Uzumaki who he was, he could in fact identify that person, as well as what he stood for. And he knew in that instance he would have to continue being the solid rock which shored the rest of his precious people above the oncoming flood.

Though those levies held, for now. And all was calm in the eye of the storm.

And like an obstinate pluton sitting propped upright in the same hospital bed he had been confined to for the past week, he did in fact find some measure of contentment. He let everything be drowned out from his mind and settled it on the dregs of thought. The borderline inane chatter in his room, soothing to an overtaxed psyche, like a steadying drone in an Indian Raga. A song which had been played thousands of times before in never quite the same way.

"…So then Yang brought up that epic food-fight we had, and while we were all laughing as Nora began reenacting it, she accidentally lobbed this wad of mash potatoes into the air. Of course, we were all laughing so hard we were doubled over, so it went right over us and landed square on Goodwitch!"

Naruto smiled softly as he listened to Ruby's account of their group's antics in his absence. He knew that any other time he too would be unable to contain his own mirth at the humorously reenacted story. He had laughed heartily at the others the young woman had regaled to him in the past week of his convalescence. Though this was by far the most entertaining, a somber mood prevailed despite the overarching joviality. It was impossible to banish from his mind, and impossible for any observer to ignore.

Ruby noticed- had noticed, for some time, actually. She had continued talking anyway, as she had for the past several days, hoping to elicit the behavior she had come to associate with her blond friend using whatever manner she could. But when she delivered the climactic twist to her tail and there was no volcanic eruption of laughter, she knew that it had been a futile effort.

Truthfully, she had also been hoping to test the limits of his memory, and with each new tale she recounted she tried to intertwine them with past incidents between them in the hope that her prodding might stir something loose, might help him remember his true long-time friend. Admittedly the two of them had not themselves known one another for long. But for her, every day since she entered Beacon academy had been like the first day of her own life, and she could not conceive of it without a place for each of her friends. This intangible rift which was slowly eschewing their individual paths was intolerable for her, and it was clear nothing would be the same until her blond friend could remember his brother in arms.

Clearly, it was grating on him as well. Although he hid it well behind that unflappable façade that he still impeccably maintained despite his obvious disquiet. It was without a doubt second nature to him now, though Ruby and the others knew he was preserving it strictly for their benefit. He had to rely an inordinate amount on them these days. It seemed so cruelly ironic, that they, being such new friends, now knew more about his fellow shinobi than the young man in front of her whom had spent the better part of his youth alongside said boy.

Though right now, despite that overarching problem, Ruby suspected that there was something else troubling her normally exuberant friend. And if his tranquil tone and lack of response to her antics was not enough of a tip off, the pointed fox ears which drooped on the top of his head were like a lighthouse on this foggy morning.

"That's a funny story, Ruby." He acknowledged automatically. She gave him a frown that was halfway to becoming a pout, and his smile grew imperceptibly.

"You're not even paying attention, are you?" She protested dejectedly, and even though he was still very much aloof, he was present enough to realize he had made a serious mistake in his tone and quickly jumped to correct the false assumption.

"No! No, I'm listening. Believe me, Ruby, I'm here."

"Then why didn't you laugh?" He struggled for a plausible answer for a few seconds, but knew that anything he said would be picked apart, so he instead chose to forward the conversation.

"So what did Goodwitch do?" He imbued his question with as much intrigue as he could muster.

This only served to deepen Ruby's frown, however, as she stared at her folded hands in her lap.

"Nothing." She admitted, finally. And this time the answer came as a genuine shock to the young man.

"Nothing?"

"Nothing." She confirmed. "She just froze, wiped away the mash potatoes, and then walked out." She gazed back up at her friend and he could see then the deep concern in her eyes. "She didn't yell at us or anything. She didn't even look at us. It was like we weren't even there."

Or she was somewhere else. Naruto privately surmised, though Ruby seemed to come to the same conclusion when staring at his own vacant look. Too many people these days were spending too much time dwelling on the 'what ifs' in her opinion, and not enough time on the here and now.

Although, it wasn't like the here and now was not rife with its own distractions.

An uncomfortable silence settled on the two of them then. There wasn't even a breeze to rustle the heavy canvas tent, and all was weighed down by the heavy mist which surrounded them and penetrated their very words to make even speaking heavy and laborious.

"So…this is probably it then, huh?" Naruto's unusually croaky voice broke the silence at last, though it was no more welcome a sound than a sharp crack on a frozen lake.

And like anyone perched precariously on that uncertain terrain, neither was willing to make a move at first. As if any action whatsoever would break the spell of contentment they had donned. But with Naruto's most recent question, the possibility of return was already off the table. All that was left would be for one or the other to make the first move towards safe ground.

"Ow!"

Eye's fixated on his upturned palms, Naruto didn't see as Ruby's fist lashed out and rapped him solidly on the head, right in between his two most sensitive appendages.

"What was that for?" He groused, rubbing the spot where no bump would form. Even through whatever memory loss he had been subjected to, Naruto could remember being hit far harder than that. But never in any history real or imagined had it been Ruby who had administered the blow.

She blew him a raspberry which softened the scowls donning both their faces.

"Quit being so melodramatic." The girl chided, arching an eyebrow at the now cowed young man whose hand had shifted from nursing the imagined wound to rubbing the back of his head in chagrin. "It's hardly like we'll never see one another again. Everyone is just going back home for the summer, and we'll be back again in the fall."

"Everyone but me." His hand which dropped next to the other in his lap clenched the rough cotton sheets draped over his legs.

The aloof demeanor that she had adopted to placate the young man faltered somewhat as the crux of the matter was thrust into the open. She had already acknowledged to herself that she would miss all of the friends she had made during her academic year, and though she would be traveling back to Patch with Yang and Qrow by her side, the young man in front of her did not have such a luxury.

"It's not like you're going to be alone, though." She offered halfheartedly. "You'll be with Ms. Goodwitch, and I'm sure she'll be able to help you out." After, of course, she finished rebuilding the leveled remains of their school. But she was certain this could be accomplished in no time at all, especially if Naruto had managed to retain his clone technique. Although, they had not yet been able to test his abilities since his hospitalization and metamorphosis, and the subject was still yet another landmine which had to be skirted around, she was none the less confident of her statement and knew that the veteran huntress would bring him up to speed in no time.

Although, it could also easily go the other way, and Naruto might find himself starting over again from square one. Or, worse yet, unable to perform in any capacity as a huntsman, shinobi, or whatever it was he decided he wanted to work towards now. Although yet unspoken, it seemed that to him this was the most likely outcome, as his downtrodden features had yet to alleviate and the melancholy aura persisted.

The negativity which was ambient in the air was even starting to bring her down. But she couldn't allow it to. Wouldn't allow it to. Even though Naruto had come to embody the resilient spirit of their generation, she knew that he was unable to fulfill that particular role currently, and thus the mantel fell to her.

She wondered now, as she had only a handful of times before, would this have been the case had the two shinobi never entered their lives? Would she be the one propping up the rest of their grade and leading them undoubtedly towards victory in the face of insurmountable odds? Her conscious berated her for such an arrogant thought. But deep within her, a voice reminded her that she was capable of doing so, with or without the help of others.

Even still, she didn't want to have to. She wanted her support. Craved her attachments. She wanted to see them all smile together again.

"Sasuke will be here as well."

The boy flinched at the mention of the name he could only remember as a strange face staring wide-eyed and hopelessly at him as he failed to recognize his visage. In spite of the discomfort, however, his friend pushed on because she knew it was necessary.

"You'll get to know him again." She stated definitively, mimicking the same tone of conviction that had allowed her to watch him jump off a floating stadium. And to both their surprise he was forced to give her the entirety of his attention, as he stared at her like a dog in the Bosnian rain.

"You'll get to know him again. You will." She emphasized. "Even if right now you can't remember him, you will, eventually." She stumbled slightly, allowing some doubt to come across, but just as quickly leveled herself out by pushing forward. "O-or even if you don't remember him from before, you'll become friends again. You're still the same Naruto as before, trust me." She placed her slender hand over his only slightly larger one, for once relishing in the juxtaposition of her pale skin against his tan. It was yet another reminder that changes or no, he was still the same person.

And like any Naruto in any other universe might do, he perked up at the contact, relishing the feeling of another person so near. He couldn't help the small smile which wormed its way onto his still whiskered cheeks as he stared at the innocent union, almost as if it was happening to someone else.

"And you're in luck," Ruby began, giving his hand a little squeeze of assurance. "This Sasuke is a lot easier to get along with than he was before!"

Her smile broadened as this pried loose a bark of laughter from the young man who shook his head in disbelief.

"Man, if that broody guy was worse before, maybe I'm better off not remembering!"

Although it was meant in jest, as soon as he said the words he wished them back because the brief reprieve of joviality was broken, and when the hand which still rested on his gave another squeeze, it was more out of desperation than reassurance. More to keep him from falling off the cliff into despair.

"No. You're always better off knowing."

She could not help the memories of her own past which beckoned her from beneath the murky surface, encouraging her to drown herself in their viscous depths. Losing her mother had been hard, harder even than perhaps her blond friend could appreciate. The words if said aloud might have been cruel, but no less true. He had never lost anyone so precious before, and so would not know what kind of torturous experience it was. In a way, perhaps he could understand a bit better now. But she was still adamant in her assertion. She had lost her mother, and she had almost lost Naruto. But never would she have ever wished that their time together had been forgot.

Somehow the young man seemed able to grasp his mistake and the internal turmoil he had precipitated. Perhaps though the physical memory of his past was lost, the emotional memory still lingered somewhere in the reptilian brain, and reminded him of the other types of pain that were still foreign to his experience.

"Sorry Ruby. I didn't mean it." He shifted in his cot and reached out with his other arm to grasp the young woman's shoulder. Unconsciously his hand began gentle ministrations, trying to steer her away from dwelling on the negative thoughts which still loitered unwanted. She offered a reluctant smile but little else.

"I know you didn't." She assured him, but he still looked guilty that his sour mood had mired the two of them for so long. He shook his head, admonishing his own behavior.

"Yeah, but I'm still sorry. Here you are spending days on end talking to me, trying to cheer me up, and I've been nothing but a downer. That's not right, and that's not who Naruto Uzumaki is." By the end of his proclamation his subtle grin had sprouted teeth, and Ruby felt her own mood brighten by the sudden influx of energy.

"Hey, you know what?!" He proclaimed suddenly and threw back the covers, causing the crimson girl to jump in surprise as she found the previously bedridden young man upright by her side.

"Let's get out of this dreary place. I think being cooped up in here for so long has been really messing with my head." As she looked on in surprise at his manic outburst, she couldn't help but agree. Could not help but be swept up with the sudden power surge which electrified the whole tent space and sent tingles through her spine.

"You guys may not be able to stay here while the school is being rebuilt, but you're not leaving right away. Let's get the whole gang together and do something fun!"

"But wait, Naruto! Goodwitch said that you're not supposed to leave the hospital tent! I gave my word that I'd keep my eye on you!" The words spewed out of her mouth in rapid fire without pause for thought, else Ruby might have found herself in shock that she was trying to be the responsible one.

"You will be keeping your eye on me." Naruto winked at her and the ambient temperature in the tent rose perceptibly as she found herself swept up in his arms. Something which she didn't remember him being able to do before. But in her paralysis of everything but her sputtering mouth, she could not help being ushered along in his frenzy. Though this was indeed like the high-energy young man she had been trying to wean out for the past few days, she only now remembered the crucial detail that once released it was exceedingly difficult to corral this more lighthearted aspect of his personality.

"Wait! What are you going to do? If Goodwitch finds out your gone we'll get in trouble!" It might have seemed odd that after all they had just been through that the new headmistress would be such a prominent concern in her reasoning. They had only recently learned that there were things far more fearsome than the stern woman. But so it was, for Goodwitch was fearsome in her own right. And neither had she given them any reason to assume she had become any more lenient in the interim. Though this did not disturb her blond friend, either.

"Eh, from what you say, Goodwitch seems to have enough on her plate to keep her busy for a while. I'm sure she wouldn't mind if we stepped out and got some fresh air. Besides, if it comes down to it, you can just blame the whole thing on me. Come on, Ruby! Let's go find the others. If this is going to be our last day together I want to make the most of it!"

He whisked her out of the tent so fast that the whole canvas complex became a blur around her. Had she been in the right state of mind her semblance would have easily compensated for the sudden acceleration. But even though she was outwardly protesting the misadventure that was sure to come, the young girl with normal knees which lingered deep inside her was giddy with delight, and all too content to go along for the ride.

"G-good morning Glynda."

The greeting that he had prepared several great strides away from the woman's workspace had caught in his throat as soon as he announced his presence and threw back the heavy tent flap. It might have been the stalwart gaze she directed his way, eyes like x-rays seeing right through his core and probably doing him untold amounts of harm. Though it also could have just as easily been the iconic desk she had moved into her ersatz office and seated herself behind, the object being an uncomfortable totem of his late friend, and still a sore spot between the two of them.

But it was more than likely a combination of the above, an uncharacteristic wispy smile adorning the statuesque woman's face, so reminiscent of the desk's previous owner that it crossed his chilled mind that he was staring at a ghostly possession of his lost friend.

"Good morning, General."

Glynda, meanwhile was quietly celebrating her minor victory, relishing in the apparent effectiveness of her psychological tactic which had been but a mere afterthought upon her redecoration. She had to hand it to her former superior, in retrospect. All those times she had grated on his aloof and blasé attitude had been worth it to see its result from the other side. His former carriage being so diametrically opposed to her own disposition only seemed to enhance the change's effects, throwing even the unflappable Ironwood off his footing.

The military man meanwhile tacitly noted the formal rebuttal he had been issued. He had been under the impression that they were well beyond first-name basis by this point. To him, it indicated a hostility to his presence, or at the very least a more than healthy skepticism. Which, if he was being truthful with himself, was probably more than warranted given the recent happenings.

He coughed into his hand to clear his throat and to try and give himself a brief minute of reprieve from her disarmingly chill gaze.

"I just wanted to let you know that I have sent my request in to high command to have our forces stay through until the fall to provide support." He tactfully decided not to draw undue attention to the change in décor. Less for the sake of celerity of the conversation and more for his own mental soundness. It was hard enough to be in her presence alone, with her being such an avatar of his fallen friend. He was not sure what he would do if she started adopting his mannerisms.

Glynda hummed quietly, and Ironwood was glad to note that there did not seem to be any coffee cup on the tabletop. The thoughtful pause which would normally encompass an elongated sip was yet another idiosyncrasy he could live without.

"Ms. Schnee, along with the other students is going to be returning the day after next to her home in Atlas." She stated ponderously, almost as if musing to herself.

The General let out a breath he did not know he had been holding, grateful that he seemed to receive an implicit agreement on this previous point of contention. Thankful a heated argument did not seem forthcoming, he nodded shallowly without removing his own attention from the blond woman who still sat with arms steepled on the ebony-grained piece of furniture.

"Yes, Captain Schnee has also fully recovered from her injuries and will be accompanying her sister." He folded his hands behind his back as his stance fell at ease, no longer fearful of contention.

"Good. You will be accompanying them as well."

"What?" His knees locked and he blinked at the sudden yet easy shift in the conversation, like a fluid repost from an experienced fencer, the woman had thrown him a hook which lashed around his lowered guard to slap him in the face.

"And you'll be taking all of your forces with you."

Any austerity and professionalism that he had been holding back out of personal respect for the woman was banished from the tent at this proclamation, and Ironwood rallied his obstinacy as he prepared to once again duke out this continually rehashed point. His whole intention was to do this as a favor to the memory of his compatriot, and was both hurt and insulted that the woman continued to be so mulish. But the newly promoted headmistress likewise did not seem to want to go over the same moot point but was determined to have her desires conceded one way or another. And rather than give into the insanity of this exercise with the pigheaded man, she came prepared with a change of strategy.

"You will be going back to Atlas." She stated factually and evenly as she stood up, still placing the solid piece of furniture between her and the now highly irritated man. "The others have already left, and without the presence of aid workers your army is nothing but an occupying force."

"You sent back the aid from Mistral and Vacuo?" He gapingly questioned. Having not heard anything of the sort come to his attention was disturbing. It meant that there were still some serious issues within his chain of his command, or that the woman before him had gone through great pains to keep it a secret from him until just now. Either would be bad, but he could not fathom a reason for the latter. On the other hand, neither could he understand her motivations in the first place. "What were you thinking?"

Glynda took the chastisement in stride, never letting her character break. She was the picture of calm, unnerving with the placating smile and hands clasped nonchalantly behind her back.

"With the students heading home we have more than enough resources to get by." Three students and herself did not consume much, either energy or comestibles. And she herself was enough to head the reconstruction effort. Even working on her lonesome, it would not take her the whole summer to accomplish this. "The city of Vale is more than capable of providing for the school and whatever staff choose to remain."

"But what about safety? You can't take on everyone by yourself." He did not have to elaborate on 'everyone', though himself wondered if it included more than just Salem and her cohorts these days. He did not even want to mention the two shinobi that would in all likelihood reside there in the interim as well. As it stood, he was not sure if they counted as an asset or a detriment.

"We will be fine. Of that I can assure you."

Rather than take offense at his apparent lack of faith in her abilities, as her response might have been, Glynda merely held a hand out to quell any additional argument that might have been brewing as Ironwood duteously held his stifled comments at the disarmingly pacifying gesture.

"Beacon is no longer at risk." The hand that she used to shush him gestured to the flimsy wall that was all that existed between them and the continued presence of the ruin that was once the proud academy. "Vale is no longer at risk. The school is gone. The Fall maiden is gone. Ozpin is gone."

He felt himself wince at the mention of the name. It was unbecoming of a soldier to be effected so, but he couldn't help it. It was the first time between the two of them that the matter had been put so bluntly. Even when a statement had to be provided to the proper authorities, they had listed him as missing rather than the definitive. Which was as true as anything, because they had yet to sift through all the rubble to find a body. But to put him in the same breath as the others was to condemn him to the same fate, and it wasn't something he was quite prepared to hear that moment.

But Glynda had had time to come to terms with it, and she was confident that she understood her friend and colleague far better than the man in front of her. Rather than become upset as she had in previous iterations of this conversation, she resolved herself to reconcile the legitimacy of his position. That did not mean that she had to grant any concessions, however. And in fact, it only strengthened the necessity that she have her way.

"And I will be training Naruto and Sasuke."

"You can't be serious!" Without his noticing, the volume of his voice escalated and he quickly shushed himself, aware that there was but minimal dampening between the flimsy walls. "Those two are still more than likely their targets." He had resolved to trust their good intentions for the now, but still felt that their usefulness was minimal, and the benefit of keeping them around dubious.

"We don't even know if Uzumaki is still capable of another such feat." Add to that the fact that it was apparent he couldn't even seem to control the power that he may or may not still possess was just too many variables for the veteran soldier.

"No, no. It doesn't make sense." He shook his head as he confronted the woman who was slowly making her way to his side of the room, still not showing any signs of perturbance, and in fact not even looking directly at him. Rather her unfocussed gaze looked through him as if he wasn't even there, as if he was merely a piece of her conscience playing devil's advocate. Her mind had already been made up.

"I let Ozpin have his way before, and I retracted my forces." He struggled to meet her on an even playing field and use his friend's name as his own weapon, as he had no other authority here. "I'm not going to make that same mistake again. I'm not going to do something ineffectual. It just doesn't make sense. You're still going to be a target, and now you're just more vulnerable." He threw his arms up in exasperation, and to highlight the temporary structure around them.

"It was one of your ships that crashed into Amity Coliseum." She reminded him offhandedly, not seeming to want to incur any spite, yet he flinched none the less. "Some of your forces were here, and they still did not manage to prevent the attack." He had to admit that much, though he seethed quietly, more upset with his forces' own blunder than with having it used against him.

"You are right, though." He stopped glaring holes in his shoes and refocused his attention back on Glynda who had ended up on the right side of the room in the midst of her calm pacing, fiddling with some trinket on the edge of a coffee table which pushed taut against the fabric of the wall. She looked back at him over her shoulder.

"It doesn't make sense. Doing things half-heartedly is ineffectual." She stopped playing with whatever object had been her focus and turned back to him. "Right now it is Mistral, Vacuo and Atlas that will be in their sights. Not Vale." Not some downtrodden woman and two child soldiers who were as broken as the structure they were supposed to live in.

"Right now, your country needs you and your expertise. We were blindsided. Now we can be sure the attack is coming, and we can bet that we won't be expecting from where. You still have internal problems that you need to deal with, and deal with soon."

The man sighed and screwed his eyes shut in resignation. It was as grating as it was obvious that she was aware of his selective ignorance. He had done his best to patch the security holes in his command since Ozpin had informed him of the breech, but it was evident that the problem was far more endemic and harder to stamp out than he realized. He had been privately holding out hope that it had been Ozpin himself that had caused the hiccups, if only to prove a point to his old friend and sparring partner. But with his demise, it was clear this was not the case, and he had a far more serious problem that required his full focus of administration. He reluctantly acknowledged it with a somber nod.

With his attention focused elsewhere, he didn't notice as she crossed the room to the other side, to a mirrored coffee table adorned with its full complement. Silently Glynda poured some of the thick, readymade brew into a dainty porcelain cup which belched out a healthy plume of steam and filled the room with a woody and spiced aroma. Raising the cup decorated with arabesque blue flora intricacies to her lips, she let Ironwood bear the full brunt of her sly smile over the peaked rim.

"Don't worry about us, James. I think you will find us survivors to have a few tricks still left up our sleeves."

"I would think you of all people would know better than to disturb me when I'm trying to read."

She was fairly certain that she had put up all defensive postures prudent to securing herself a moment alone to her thoughts. Holed up in a dimly lit corner in the back of one of the storage tents, she evoked about as much approachability as a sea urchin. She had carefully avoided wandering into public settings for days now, scrounging rations from the plenty available in the tent so that she did not have to trapes into the mess and find herself on the opposite end of a heavy conversation.

"It is kind of hard not to when you spend all of your time reading." The interloper to her peaceful meditation drawled out, before amending his statement. "Or at least, pretending to."

The person who now approached her had patently ignored all the obvious signs and clearly sought her out in her hidey-hole. He had come straight in and made a beeline for her corner, minus twists and turns in the corridors made from stacked supply crates. She had no doubt that he already knew she was there, and probably had for some time.

She sighed and closed her book soundlessly before meeting the intruder's gaze for the first time since he had approached, her amber eyes glowing like bubbling magma in the dimly-lit space. Smoldering lumps of coal stared back, equally unflinching.

"What do you want, Sasuke?" Being one of the persons she least wanted to see right now did nothing to soften her tone. That was done consciously, and with great care, to not sound quite so irritated. It wasn't that she continued to hold a particular animosity toward the teen. She just didn't really want to converse with anyone right now.

"Is it so hard to believe that I just wanted to talk?"

She snorted, the loudest sound she had made in several days.

"Let's see, you actively seeking someone out because you want to? I think I should be worried, or at the very least, highly suspicious of your motivations."

He took the barb with a smirk, uncaring if the vitriol was real or feigned.

"Be either, both, if you want to. May I?"

Her response was at first limited to the silent and subtle glow that emanated from her bastion of darkness and solitude. After a beat, she sighed and stepped marginally into the scant light which emanated from the room's singular bulb strung in the center, and what little crept in from beneath the fabric walls. She gestured a careless wave to a crate within reach emblazoned with a faded red stencil reading: 'Water, Canned, Potable'.

Sasuke humbly accepted the offer and sat down within arm's reach of his fellow raven-haired student, the two staring parallel holes into the stack of crates that filled the center of the cavernous temporary building.

"So, what's up with the sudden personality shift?" Blake questioned, continuing on the same vein, still not entirely trusting the younger man to have come without ulterior motive.

"I could ask you the same." He quipped back nonchalantly. To her ire, if the narrowed slits opposite to him was any indication. Though she did not say anything to the contrary. She had indeed been more recalcitrant since the culminating battle several days prior, undoing what seemed to be months of acclimating to social norms.

In some ways, the impersonal youth next to her seemed to be doing better in this regard. Further proving this supposition to be true, he took the high road and answered her previous question without further ado.

"I thought at first I would get along better with people who were more like me. More reserved. More serious. Quieter, at least." He sighed, pulling his hand out of his pocket and scratching his cheek absently. "Turns out, it's a pretty miserable thing. Might as well be alone."

"And is it really such a bad thing to be alone?"

There was a spark of deep and serious contemplation which flashed across the young man's face, so clear to her despite the dimness, and so unusual to his own norm that she had no trouble reading him. There was a moment when he honestly weighed her question, though he doubtlessly had many times before. But it was only a moment, and then it was gone.

"Yes. Yes it is."

She thought deeply on his answer, and the pause which said perhaps more.

Did she pity him? He had told them all their story in fine detail and without shame. It was a disclosure meant so that they might understand their motivations, make the two otherworldly teens seem more down to earth and comprehensible. Howeve,r it only served to highlight their differences, showing how much the two endured in their short existence made the both of them seem all the more heroic, their tragedies all the more sorrowful, and their fights all the more bloodthirsty.

And now once again they had to endure through a divine intervention set to tear them apart. It was assured that Naruto would never go the path alone. Such was his grace of character. But what of the one seated next to her? Had he endeared himself to their group as much as he would have liked to suppose, or was he riding on the wake of his gregarious friend who no longer remembered him?

No, she decided. She did not pity him. She had thought herself alone for so long too. Alone in her struggles for equality. Alone in her choice to take the higher road when violence was clearly not the answer. And alone again because of that decision. She was wrong in that thinking, though. She was never alone until now. Deprived of love, and now, deprived of hate, she had nothing. No one to empathize with how empty she now felt.

No, she decided. She did not pity him.

Nor did she envy him. They all had their own, unequal struggles. But did that mean they had to go them alone? Just because one struggled, did one have to be miserable to feel justified?

"I hated my brother." His voice was low as he looked at his own palms, callouses etched through countless hours of dedicated training, all for the sole purpose of avenging said kin. She knew this. He had told them of his desire to kill his only living family. She did not think it bared repeating.

"And, in some ways, I loved him."

She was surprised, eyes widening marginally in silent show of it, though she did not know why she should be so. She should have expected it. How could he not help but love someone so integral to his life? It had never occurred to her before, mainly because it wasn't conveyed in his tale. Not directly, at least. But now in so intimate a setting, she could see how much truth there was in that simple contradiction. Love and hate were the same face in different light.

"And I'll never get the chance to see him again." His hands clenched, knuckles turning all the paler and fingernails dug into his meaty palm. "I'll never be able to kill him. Never be able to avenge my family. Never find out why!" His voice rose to a smothered yell, thunder way off over the horizon. Bloody rain dribbled from his palms.

But the storm just hovered there on the horizon, before it dissipated, allowing the scattered light from the moon shine once again on the rolling hills. Blake watched him in silent awe, as one would watch a real-life torment of nature which she had only narrowly escaped, static electricity still tingling on her skin.

His hate was something impressive. Palpable like that charge before a lightning strike or the smell before a heavy rain. Only more intense. Deadlier. Stifling. But what she found all the more impressive was his restraint of this powerful emotion. The way he overcame his nature.

His hands unclenched and he watched the rivulets of blood dry up and damn the shallow creases in his palm. He looked over to see Blake had scooted away from him intuitively, staring at him wide-eyed like a startled cat. Her own fingernails had dug their own trenches in their wooded bench. He straightened slowly, trying not to startle her. He couldn't if he had tried, she was so caught up in her own musings.

"I'm sorry." He apologized, turning away abashedly.

"Don't be." His words had stirred her from her own conflict. Who was she not to indulge him in his brief lapse of control? She dared not even face her own feelings on the matter. That was why she had holed herself up in the loneliest corner of the whole encampment, burying herself in the texts which she had read over and over again. The most dog-eared tomes and wrinkled paper-backs keeping her company, making sure that she did not have to think and so she could lose herself in fantasy.

"You're strong." Her voice was barely above a whisper, but he heard her, and understood the quality of strength she was talking about. "Stronger than I am." Now it was she who could not meet his gaze.

"It takes time. I've been at it a lot longer. And there are times…" He did not need to elaborate, she had witnessed just such a time firsthand. If she had been in her right mind, she might have been concerned about attracting Grimm. But they had made themselves scarce ever since Naruto had unleashed his own potent hate. That, or there simply weren't any left after the abject destruction he had wrought.

"I'm still working at it." He chuckled half-heartedly. "Probably will be for some time."

Their conversation had gone on for some time as well. The light from underneath the paper-thin gaps in the walls had turned crimson, and even Blake was having a hard time reading the expression on her companion's face. But what was not said in the scant words traded between them was said in the pregnant pauses between the hands of the clock.

"I imagine…." He was startled, not by the words which pierced the darkness, but by the warm hand which lay gently on his shoulder. "…It's easier having someone to help."

He felt himself flinch under the touch, so foreign to his senses. But not his sensibility, for he found he did not want to break the contact just yet.

"Yeah…" But he stood up anyway, letting her hand slide off back to her side. "It was."

He had made both grand strides and teeth-gritting crawls to inch his way into normalcy. Against him though was time, years of soloing his arduous climb. Naruto had managed to drill his way into Sasuke's appreciation, but now that the bond, his safe handhold, was ripped from his grasp. He was no longer sure that he could begin ag-

"Ow!"

He rubbed his head from where the spine of the book had rapped him. More out of shock than anything else, the well-loved text nonetheless left its mark, with little more damage to its worried spine than the rising welt on the back of his skull.

He turned and shot a glare at the twin slivers of harvest moon, laughing at him in the darkness. Had the woman been prone to toothy grins like his former cohort, he could imagine a Cheshire grin also hanging disconnected in the space beneath.

"Don't be so melodramatic." He heard her sing-song voice whisper out to him. "You're never alone."

"Tch."

His scoff held no scorn, and he was sure that even now she could see the heartened smirk on his lips as he turned around and shoved his hands in his pockets, glad that as a ninja he could find his way even in the abject darkness. He had memorized the labyrinthine path on the way in so there wouldn't be any surprises-

"Hi!"

Beginning as a stumble, his left foot fell into a defensive stance as his right palmed a kunai. Prudence luckily shone through even in the absence of light, and he stayed his hand, kenning to the familiar voice.

"Nora?"

He could only just make out the familiar grin hovering about eye-level in the darkness, the ginger hair almost blue against the black background.

"What are you-"

"Tag."

He felt her finger grace the tip of his nose accompanied by a sudden vortex of wind sweeping away from him, drawing her faint call behind along with a cacophony of overturned supply crates.

"You're it!"

He cringed at the volume of her call, somehow even louder than the dozens of stacked towers tumbling down throughout the near sightless room, blocking any exit he had potentially memorized and making him reluctantly cough as the dust settled in the enclosed space.

"Damn." He swore softly to himself as he came to terms with the totality of his situation. He would need some help if he didn't want to find his way out by brail. But he knew of someone who could navigate the foreign darkness.

"Blake? Can you give me a hand?"

But there was no response. He blindly groped back where he had left the other woman but turned up nothing but splintered wood. She had taken her book along with her in her.

"She's gone, isn't she?" He asked, to no one in particular. But despite not knowing when she left him all alone in the storage tent, despite not knowing how long it would take him to disengage himself from said tent, despite not knowing how or why the bubbly girl chose that particular moment to make him part of her inane games, he did know one thing.

Whatever it was, it was probably Naruto's fault.

"Troublesome."