I truly thank you all for your interest and support in the Saga of Ruby the Rose.
As always, comments and criticisms are welcome.
Chapter One
I really should have expected that Being X would pull a fast one on me. One moment I'm arguing with a so-called divine being, and then in an instant he shuts it down with a tantrum. Kudos to him for dropping my guard just enough to drop me into another world, and into the body of a baby girl named Ruby Rose, daughter of Summer Rose.
…
Television is, and always will be, an informative medium. While it does serve a purpose as a propaganda proliferator for the politically powerful, it also fulfills its grand role as information broker quite well. After all, through careful observation, which my father, Taiyang likes to dismiss as "TV time," I am able to discern the name of this world – Remnant.
Furthermore, Remnant is divided into four main pockets of civilization – Kingdoms, as they are so archaically called. And even though I am on an island called Patch, which happens to be off the coast of Vale, we are technically under the kingdom's jurisdiction to a degree.
This, of course, irks me to no end, despite my being too young to really be affected by much anything at the moment. Living under the kingdom's laws means bearing with their insufferable ruling Council, as well as, from what I hear from my sister, Yang, the ever-strict regulations of Vale's mandatory compulsory education system, which is designed specifically to keep negative emotion at a bare minimum. My sister swears that she is surrounded by snowflakes in class, and she is only in first grade! This system must truly be pathetic, then, if a subpar student cannot be properly reprimanded because of the fear of hypothetically generated negativity. What a self-defeating cycle that is - fear of negativity. Surely the defenses would be strong enough to handle the occasional stray Grimm.
Maybe the Council should invest less in themselves, and more in defense spending, while also considering a larger budget for their Huntsmen academies.
Alas, I am but a salaryman reincarnated in the body of a girl, so what would I know? I at least manage to survive five whole years with relative ease – an achievement in its own right. Why can't life stay like this? I wake up and eat breakfast, do some light reading, learn more about the world I live in, have lunch and dinner, a bath, and sleep – standard fare, surely.
At the moment, though, I am helping with chores around the house. I must keep appearances, after all.
Taiyang has a blank expression on his face while watching the news. His eyes wander over to me, and it looks as if his gaze is going through me, rather than just looking at me. I should have expected as much; after all, Ruby Rose is the spitting image of her mother, all the way down to the silver eyes.
I find this eye color tidbit somewhat noteworthy, because I remember mentioning it to my Uncle Qrow once, and he unintentionally flinches when I tell him that my eyes match my mother's.
And, speaking of my mother in this world, Summer is many things. She is Super Mom. She bakes cookies by day and slays giant monsters before dinner. She tucks me into bed every night and I, an adult man in the body of this woman's daughter, must bear with every bedtime story under the sun – the Four Seasons, the Shallow Sea, the Girl in the Tower. Even with the exemplary willpower that I held as a salaryman working long hours, I end up asleep to the tale of The Man with Two Souls. I daresay that I love Summer as a mother more than I did my last one. I may not say it aloud, but I tell her through the way my hand holds hers.
Yet I know far too well that all good things must come to an end.
Shortly after I turn five years old, Summer leaves for a mission that is outside the kingdom, and she expects to return in two weeks. She does not return in two weeks. Two weeks turns into four, and morphs into worry. A month turns into two. At this point, I can only assume she is dead, and the confirmation comes soon after. I do not take the news as heavily as I should – the adults chalk it up as me being too young to understand, but I am an adult man in the body of a child; thus, I have had my fair share of grief. Still, the news of Summer's fate still carries weight. I doubt that the gravity of it will leave Ruby alone any time soon. I find myself holding my red cloak closer to me every night when I go to sleep.
I smile at Taiyang, but he looks down and away. Pain paints his face, so I do what only a child can do – I walk up to him and give him a hug. He returns it.
…
"It'll be a quick walk, sis. I'll even bring the wagon," says Yang. Despite being my older sister in Remnant, she is essentially my opposite in every way. She's boisterous, sunny, and she has her father's hair. She also gets along well with most everyone in her class.
Ruby, on the other hand…
"Yang, go away, I wanna read this," I respond, holding a copy of 'Remnant Huntsman' in front of her. The cover displays a myriad of weapons, and for a moment I feel like I'm reading a foreigner's copy of 'American Rifleman.'
Ruby, on the other hand, is shy, innocent, and not a blonde. She also happens to be a fanatic when it comes to Huntsman weaponry.
Weaponry that, for the most part, appear somewhat standard to look at, until they transform into a gun, a bladed weapon, either-or, or both. Technological marvels that not even my old world possessed, and yet Remnant just tosses them around like casual fare for their "defenders of tomorrow."
"Come on, Ruby," says Yang as she snatches the magazine out of my hands with one arm, and holding me back with the other – seriously, how is she possibly that strong at just seven years of age? "Besides, the fresh air will be good for you. You can take the magazine with you, too."
I pout, hoping to give a convincing act as a younger sister who's just been bested. "Fine, but don't think I'll like it one bit," I tell her, getting up off the floor. I stop by my room to change. I forget all about dad's rule of no leaving the house while he is away.
I fail to see Yang linger her eyes on a well-worn photograph in the corner of the room. It is outside the safety of a frame, yet idly gathering age with each passing day. Yang's eyes burn red for but a second, until she turns away and blinks, her eyes back to lilac.
Yang looks down at her hand, having forgotten about the magazine, and flips to a random page. It shows a Huntsman, donning a cybernetic Atlesian suit with bright green accents, holding an impressive sword in the Ko Gasumi stance.
"…now that's a katana!" she says with a whistle.
…
"Why do I have to tag along again, Yang?" I ask as I turn the page in my magazine.
"Fresh air and exercise!" she says excitedly, her free hand raised to the sky in a fist; her other hand pulling the wagon with me in it.
"I'm not the one exercising," I tell her, sticking my tongue out. Acting as a cheeky younger sibling is fun and is an act I wholeheartedly accept with gracious fervor.
"Wanna get out of the wagon, then?"
"Nope! I'm fine with my magazine," I say.
"Have it your way then. I'll let you know when we get there," she says. I respond by burying my nose into the magazine, giving a dramatic five-year-old's nod. Let's see…basic stances, prototype weapons – I'll have to get back to that, and – oh, this page looks promising, I muse. An article on sniper rifle applications to adjusting momentum. Before I can read it, however, a black feather lands on my nose. I huff it away without realizing what it is, thinking it a bug.
…
It's nearly three hours later when Yang finally reaches her destination. She is beyond exhausted and barely able to stand; she is covered in nicks and scratches from thorns and wayward branches. Ruby, however, is asleep, lying on her right side within the wagon, her beloved reading material clutched in her arms as if it were a stuffed animal, and a stick in her left hand. Yang looks back and weakly smiles at the innocence of her little sister.
Yang breaks her eyes away from her baby sister and takes a moment to look around and gauge her surroundings. Lifeless trees fill the old woods to the brim, and an old shack stands at the end of the fading road. The building is fairly large and is in utter disrepair – windows either shattered or missing; the door is blown off its hinges. The young blonde takes a breath and is about to attempt an investigation of the ruined building, when she notices a streaking pair of red flash by the window.
Another pair of red flashes by. Yang gets increasingly worried when the window fills with several more. When both the tension and the doorway burst out like a balloon and a Beowulf steps out, Yang enters full panic. She tries to turn tail and run with the wagon, but the long trek, plus Ruby in tow, has left her unable to take any action, as she has no more energy left to run. She falls to the ground, right as the Beowulf lunges.
A spread-eagle copy of 'Remnant Huntsman' smacks the Beowulf in the face, disorienting it for a few seconds as pages of katana-based weaponry temporarily blocks its vision. It's Ruby, having faked her sleep in the wagon (for the past half hour, anyway). The young silver-eyed girl stands triumphantly in the unsteady wagon, holding her stick like a makeshift sword. She gives a shrill cry as she jumps out of the wagon and charges the Beowulf.
"No, Ruby!" Yang shouts. But her words go unheeded, and Ruby brings her stick down on the Beowulf's mask with all of her might…which isn't much, considering she is only five years old. All she manages to do is annoy it, and two more Beowulves emerge from the ruined building behind them. Three Beowulves thus leap at Ruby, but she just holds her ground, her stick in front of her in a guarding position. She yells in defiance against…some Grimm named X?
Two things happen simultaneously.
A wave of red washes over Ruby. A black feather falls in her field of view, and, fearing a Nevermore, steps back an entire stride, swearing all the while that the world is moving slower than it should. A brief shimmer rings in the air, and all of a sudden, Uncle Qrow stands in front of his nieces like it were magic – his sword held out to the side post-swing and he faces them; the look on his face mixing heavy concern and relief. Three Grimm corpses fall to the ground, quickly dissipating into insignificant ash in the wind.
"Stay with your sister," he says to them in his curt, husky tone as he walks through the blown-out doorway. Yang hangs her head, unable to do much else, whereas Ruby backs up to Yang; however, unlike her sister, she stays standing, and watches. She does not tear her sight away from her uncle, even as he disappears within the dark ruin. She knows the results that unfold within the dark, because she can hear the swings of his blade, and she can see the bright arcs of each slash. Qrow's arm sticks out of the window for a brief moment – his sword in hand – and Ruby relishes every moment once she sees the sword transform; her eyes widening – her smile ever more crescent – in violent, appreciative ecstasy as the scythe comes out to play.
…
"Okay, girls, what did we learn today?" asks Taiyang, a serious expression on his face. It softens somewhat when he looks at me.
"Not to trust Yang when she says it would be a quick walk?" I say in response.
"I said I was sorry, Ruby."
"Sorry doesn't cover for us nearly becoming Beowulf food, Yang. Why did you take me so far away?"
"I – it's a long story," she says.
Both Taiyang and Qrow sigh in a sort of parental exasperation.
"What matters is that you're both safe," says Uncle Qrow.
"Come on, my sunny little dragon, let's get you some rest," says Taiyang, as he leads my blonde sister up the stairs and to her room.
Uncle Qrow stays behind and sits next to me on the couch. "So, what's on your mind, kiddo?"
I have to consider my words carefully. Ruby is a bit too young to consider serious interest in the Huntsmen armory, so I have to slowly introduce it to him. "Your weapon is so cool!" I say in near-genuine adoration, wanting to mentally slap myself; Ruby is far too excitable. A compliment is a good start though, I suppose. I still wish that I could lower Ruby's high-pitched voice by just a tad.
Qrow chuckles. "Glad to hear you like it," he says. "I designed it a long time ago, back before my academy days, even. Of course, I modified it plenty since then, and I like how it works now."
"Do you think I can ever have a cool weapon like yours one day, Uncle Qrow?" I ask, my eyes bright and wide. I add a glimmer of hope somewhere in my gaze.
He pauses for a second. He steals a moment to look at the team photograph in the corner of the living room, before letting out a sigh.
"I suppose you can, one day. You'll need some training, though. You got guts, kiddo, I'll give you that. I saw how you took a basic parry stance, and you even gave a mean downward strike on that Beowulf, but if you're serious about wanting to rough it out with the best one day, then you need to grow up before you can really consider this path. Because right now, you're just a pipsqueak. I suggest you start growing here," he says, pointing at my head, "and make sure that whatever is in your head, you match it here," at my heart.
"So, be sure to just keep moving forward, okay, kiddo?"
And for some reason, those words resonate with me. I look at him with newfound appreciation; despite my being a grown man trapped in a child's body, I feel as if Qrow is more of a man than I had ever been in my past life.
If he says that growing up is all I need to do, then…hell, I'm a mature adult in the body of a child. I suppose I could stand to…act my age more, so to speak.
"Thanks, Uncle Qrow," I say. I wrap him in an embrace. It doesn't hurt to act like a little child for a little bit longer.
"Anytime, kid. Now go get some rest, okay?"
I nod and flash a smile. I get up from the couch and run up the stairs. I do not catch my uncle's slightly surprised expression, but I do see a flower petal on my cloak when I tuck myself into bed. I pick it up and examine it.
It smells red like roses.