Another week of absent-minded academia ambles onwards.
Blake rarely goes to her classes early enough, or stays late enough, to risk any unwanted attention from her professors or fellow students. Ideally, she would get through most of her classes without ever having to raise her voice or discuss things with a classmate.
Unfortunately (and unsurprisingly) reality fails to meet her ideal on a regular basis, as Professor Goodwitch – her "Introduction to Legal Systems" instructor – prefers to engage her students in a question-and-answer-style lecture, threatening to dock marks for any individual's lack of participation. Blake routinely does her best to respond as completely and correctly as possible, inviting as little follow-up or discussion as she can, and usually she is successful – after all, as much as she might despise the forced "dialogue" between teacher and students, she's here for a reason, isn't she?
As her Thursday lecture inches closer to dismissal, she is once again called upon to regurgitate something about the something of somewhere, but the warm light pouring through the rear window onto the dizzyingly full whiteboard evokes the relaxing embrace of the subtropical sun on a cloudless day, and pulls her into a mist of wistful memories.
"Ms. Belladonna?" intones the stern alto voice of Professor Goodwitch. The room is quiet in tense anticipation, but Blake is too slow to return to the present. "Are you quite finished with your cat nap?"
This has her attention. A few subtle snickers reach her ears from the back of the room – my ears! Her left hand flies up towards her head, but she catches herself, remembering she is still concealing her cat ears in her black bow, and instead pretends to brush a stray lock of hair behind her human ear. "N-yes, professor, sorry. Could you repeat the question?"
Emerald green eyes bore their way into Blake's own practiced stare. "Very well. What is the primary function of the judicial branch of the government of Mistral?"
To continuously enable the systemic persecution of those deemed "lesser" by those in power, she wants to say - instead, Blake succinctly quotes the simplistic definition from Tuesday's lecture notes, earning a curt, "Good," thereby freeing herself from the scrutinizing glare of her professor as the latter continues the lecture. Several minutes later the class is dismissed and Blake makes her escape, though the incident follows her in her mind.
Professor Goodwitch, though demanding, a little frightening, and at times unforgiving, does not strike her as particularly cruel or discriminatory, and since Blake has rarely dared to expose her faunus trait in public on campus, she is fairly certain the professor hadn't meant anything unusual by her quip. Still, the scenario from this morning was exactly the sort of thing Blake wants to avoid, and her wandering mind had led her straight into that trap.
Anxiety claws at her throat, and she feels compelled to put as much distance as possible (or at least a few walls) between her and that lecture hall. She has no more classes for the day and her appetite is strangled by her discomfort, but she happily envisions a hot cup of tea and a new book calling to her from her room across campus, and power walks stiffly around the courtyard with her head down and shoulders tight.
A fresh pulse of fright almost causes her to stumble as she feels her scroll vibrate in the pocket of her jeans. She doesn't message people often, especially not during the day, so before she can allow herself to imagine who could be sending her anything at this hour, and perhaps wonder if someone is eager to expose a damning secret of hers, or if anyone might be trying to find her here…
She powers off the scroll.
It isn't until the next evening, after classes are finished for the week, that she even remembers to turn it on again – though she doubts she's missed much of importance. A few uninteresting notifications from the blogs of a few authors and obscure pseudo-celebrities and faunus rights movements pop up, followed by a forgettable Facebook birthday notification, then an indicator of new emails and finally three missed texts from Sun.
Deciding she's not in the mood to talk to Sun, she readjusts her position in the armchair in her room, relishing the security of her deep purple lounging blanket. Like most nights, she is content to stay in with a good book and a soothing mug of chamomile tea – with milk and fresh honey, of course. Something about each sip is bittersweet, however, and she's pretty sure it's not the flavour on her tongue.
Thumbing through her other notifications, Blake opens her primary email inbox (mostly filled with announcements from Beacon and lecture notes from Professor Goodwitch, which she ignores for now), where a conspicuous purple-coloured notification in one of her custom tabs for specially-filtered mail catches her eye:
[Family (9)]
She pauses her habitual perusal, a familiar wave of unpleasant emotions stirring like fresh cement in her stomach. She stares at the tab, caught between the same two choices she had the last eight times, and always has; both are painful, but one is easy…
She deliberates long enough that the screen of her scroll dims automatically to conserve energy. Her decision is made for her, in a sense, and she follows suit by snapping the ends of her scroll shut with unnecessary force, gently ditching it on her desk nearby.
She huffs in quiet frustration, bringing her knees to her chest under her blanket. She eyes the back cover of her latest recreational read, but the words are unintelligible in the wake of her own thoughts.
They're just checking in, she reminds herself, nothing urgent. If there were an emergency, they have my number. She soon finds herself imagining what horrible possibilities might merit such a hypothetical call, and the slurry of emotions sitting in her gut bubbles with rancid heat.
Eager for a distraction, she jerks her head toward the small window beside her, through which a sliver of the central courtyard can be seen even in the later stages of the slow summer sunset, the shadiest places still dimly lit by the stylized wrought iron lampposts scattered across campus. Above, the moon appears eager to make its presence known, though Blake frowns sympathetically, knowing full well that it and its star companions would have little luck outshining the nighttime haze of city lights.
Her mind wanders back to her amassing unread emails, not unwillingly… but reluctantly.
They're probably just worried. It's been… a while. In truth, Blake isn't even sure how long it's been since she sent her last update, and she decides against checking the date of her last correspondence for fear that it may be longer than she thinks. She closes her eyes, the internal debate springing back to life. They deserve to know I'm okay, at least. But what then? I've chosen my path, and they would probably approve no matter what. So what is there to even say?
BVVVFT.
Blake's scroll vibrates itself an inch closer on her desk. It could be anyone, anything – maybe even something that could somehow make her feel worse. In fact, it probably is, but at this point she welcomes the distraction, no matter the source.
She turns, keeping herself under her lightweight blanket as much as possible as she reaches for her scroll. Once retrieved, she spies the lone notification indicating one new text message from Sun Wukong. What now, Sun? she wants to respond, but she's already blown him off a few times this week without really communicating. The guilt takes control and she taps the (now four) messages open.
"hey blake?"
"wear r u?"
"blaaaaaaaakey"
Her eyes narrow in annoyance and her right cat ear flicks, as she hears him calling out to her in her memories with his old pet name (ugh) for her. What was so important that he needed to message her three times, and why did he need to know where she was?
Then, the new one: "hey"
That's it now? she thinks, barely holding back more needlessly snide remarks. She methodically thumbs out a response.
"Hey Sun." Go away, Sun.
Nearly thirty seconds pass. "where u been?"
Running. Hiding. Studying. Sleeping. What does it matter to you?
Almost immediately after: "we missed u at lunch yesterday"
Blake's eyes widen ever so slightly as she realizes the date. Their weekly lunch outing with her old friend Ilia was yesterday, and she had completely (if somewhat willingly) forgotten.
"Sorry, I was busy with something." Not a lie, just not the full truth.
A minute passes. "busy tmrw?"
"Should be free." Should be studying, she thinks, although she knows deep down she likely would remain too distracted to accomplish much of anything.
"lets hang. my treat!"
I guess I should try to get out more, at least to clear my head... I suppose I can take that offer. "Ok. Where at?"
A few seconds, then: "theres a place i wanna check out. itll be a surprize! :)"
She frowns. Sun's last surprise was a seedy pub with a "No Animals On The Dance Floor" sign, complete with a silhouette of a horned humanoid head. The vibe had been pleasant enough at first, and the sign might simply have been a misguided attempt at humour, but she could tell the few other faunus around – save mostly for Sun – were just as wary of it as she had been. "Ok... When?"
"tmrw"
She rolls her eyes, a well-practiced gesture when it comes to Sun. "I mean what time?"
"morn. ill call u"
Ugh, that's helpful. "Ok."
Blake has long since given up trying to convince Sun he needs to be more precise in his communication – whether she has to repeatedly prompt him to deliver complete information or scold and correct his ambiguously flirty and potentially hazardous one-liners, it makes little difference. Try as she might, Sun is Sun, and while she has come to accept that (since he clearly has), she still holds onto a shred of hope that he might one day be able to keep himself out of trouble - or at least keep her out of trouble.
She revels in the distraction from her earlier thoughts, however, and after a few minutes of more pleasant reminiscing (complete with an eye roll and slow head shake), she finally pushes herself out of her chair and readies herself for a proper night's sleep on her tiny cot.
"RISE AND SHINE, RUBY!"
Having just thrown open the curtains to the blazing sunrise, Yang launches herself at the foot of her sister's bed, fully aware of the mattress' springiness. For a brief moment as she flies through the air she sees her sister's deer-in-the-headlights expression begin to shift to sheer terror, and then-
FMPFFF.
A supersonic shriek of surprise follows Ruby's flailing body as she is bounced right off of her bed and into an impressive pile of probably-dirty-but-no-one's-sure-anymore laundry between her bed and window.
Yang settles onto her knees on the bed, which creaks in agony following her violent dive, then she peers over the side and beams unapologetically. "Hey sis, wanna go to the market today?" she asks, wiggling back and forth with admittedly obnoxious energy for a weekend morning.
Ruby sluggishly scrambles to right herself in the mess of cascading clothes, squeezing her eyes shut as she raises a hand to shield herself from the light of day. "Yaaaaaaang, what the heck…"
"You've been up late gaming every night since that big test! You need to get out more!" Yang tosses a pillow on her sister for good measure. "You know, interact with real people!"
Ruby's response is muffled at first as she only partially manages to deflect her pillow. "Jaune and Penny are real people, Yang! You've met Jaune-"
"Nooot a great example."
"Yaaang."
"What? He's fine, I guess, just… I mean, real people with real lives, y'know?" Yang begins fidgetting with her hair.
"Yaaang…" Ruby grumpily glares up at her through scrunched slits.
"Alright, fine. I… need some help. Dad and I finished processing a huge batch of honey the other night while you were busy socializing," Yang explains, rolling her eyes to emphasize her sarcastic use of the latter term, "and I could use a hand bringing it all in and keeping track of sales."
And keeping an eye out for our… your new friend, she admits to no one.
She almost feels bad about asking her sister to help her, but in truth, sales had been picking up as the first few weeks of summer progressed. If at any point they lost any potential customers too impatient to wait in a potentially long line… that was a potentially big potential loss.
And there is some legitimate concern in her assessment of her sister's gaming habits. Yang had gotten up to use the washroom very late one night only to hear the faint clicks and hushed whispers of a truly dedicated gamer (or, more accurately, a gifted student with an overbearing obsession) from down the hall. Even if it is a low-pressure week for schoolwork, these habits would not translate well later in the year, and Yang worries that her baby sister might lose sight of her own goals.
Ruby had graduated from Patch High a year early (just one year behind Yang), having impressed Professor Ozpin, the inscrutable dean of Beacon University's engineering faculty, with a surprisingly comprehensive junior year science project and accompanying paper. At that point she had already taken (mostly by sheer dumb luck) almost enough credits to graduate; with a little string-pulling in the office she was able to squeeze into her fall schedule enough extra credit to qualify for Beacon in the spring.
So far Ruby hadn't had much issue with the coursework, but Yang had heard that most people tend to hit a wall before long if they don't develop good study habits early on, and so she frequently makes a point of nagging her baby sister in a variety of ways. Though for all her worrying, Yang sometimes finds herself thinking: At least she's doing something with her life.
Ruby pulls herself up to sit up awkwardly against her own bed, and rubs her eyes clumsily. She juts her lower lip out, casting a sideways glance at her strangely excited older sister. Yang wonders for a moment if she's deep in thought or just pouting for dramatic effect, but then Ruby drops her head with a long sigh. "Fiiine," she mumbles. "When are we leaving?"
"As soon as you're dressed!" Yang replies quickly, beaming anxiously as she strides out of the room. "And make it quick! I can't keep Zwei distracted forever…" she calls from the hallway as the jingling of tiny identification tags approaches. An excited bark is met with sickeningly sweet baby-talk, and Ruby stumbles over to close her bedroom door before the excitable corgi can interfere with her condensed morning ritual.
As per usual, Taiyang is already loading up their rusting blue pickup truck as Yang inhales a quick omelette and single piece of toast. The fresh honey is especially sweet – she recalls him mentioning something about the newer summer blossoms and nectar sources influencing the flavour – and it bolsters her already overwhelming eagerness to get to the market. She bounds outside to help her dad finish loading their products, the black-and-white-haired Zwei barking and bouncing along at her heels.
"Whoa-ho, who mind-swapped my kids?" Taiyang calls over to her teasingly from the driver's side. "You're awfully chipper this morning. Usually you're the one I have to drag out of bed." He rests his hands on his hips, smiling warmly despite his own tired eyes.
Yang hesitates as she feels her face heat up ever so slightly. "Oh, y'know, lots to take care of at the market… wanna make sure we maximize our sales!"
If he notices her flustered demeanour, he doesn't show it. Instead, he smiles appreciatively. "That's great, Yang. Thanks for doing this." His expression dulls, and he looks to the ground, as if unsure what to say. "I… I know the bike is a big part of this for you, but… well, it really means a lot to have you so invested in all this, whatever the reason may be."
Yang hesitates again, but this time in stunned silence as she witnesses her father looking back up at her with a sad smile, eyes shining with excess liquid. She places down the last box of jars in the back of the truck and approaches him, doing her best to return his smile. "Dad… are you crying?" Her smile grows into one of gentle amusement.
Taiyang sniffs, wiping at his eyes. "Ah… you got me there." He lets out a long, shaky sigh – a bittersweet mix of contentment and concern. "Don't mind me, just marveling at how my daughters grew up to be such wonderful young women."
He laughs awkwardly as if to clear away the cloud of emotions around him, but Yang wraps him in a sturdy hug. "We've got a good role model," she murmurs reassuringly.
Their father has never been good at concealing his feelings, particularly with regards to the two of them, but this particular display of emotion feels weightier somehow. Perhaps it is the early hour, or the nearness of a particular anniversary… or perhaps it is Yang's choice of words, the potency of which she doesn't fully realize until her dad is squeezing her back in an overwhelming bear hug of his own.
They hold each other there quietly for a long moment, and only when he pulls back and wipes at his eyes again does Yang realize just how much her words must have meant to him – and how sincerely she had meant them. He clasps her shoulders with his hands, proudly peering down at her with his watery blue eyes.
Zwei, who had taken the opportunity to relieve himself on a nearby fencepost, breaks the silence with another bark: "Hey, look!" They turn towards the sound of the screen door creaking open.
Taiyang clears his throat and calls out to his youngest, "There you are! Let's get moving." He turns to Zwei, whose head tilt and happy panting seem to ask, "Me too?"
With a sympathetic sigh, Taiyang informs him, "Sorry, boy, looks like we're all gonna be too busy today. Weather looks good, though!" He hooks a lengthy leash (attached firmly to the outermost support pillar of the front porch, and allowing a wide radius of free movement) to Zwei's collar and scratches the corgi's ears affectionately in an attempt to ease the dismay evident in his drooping ears. "Take care of things for us, okay?" Zwei perks up at this, eager to make his family proud, and barks once in affirmation, his stub of a tail a wiggling blur.
They say their overtly cheerful goodbyes to their beloved pet as Ruby sprawls groggily across the back seat of the cab, and the three depart the farm for the market – a twenty minute drive down the rough secondary highway running northwest out of Vale. There, Taiyang helps them unload before hopping back in the cab to continue his own drive to work. The sisters bid him farewell as best they can with their arms loaded full of boxes and bags of jars and bottles.
The morning rush is just beginning as they set up their rented outdoor space, and thankfully for Ruby, they have enough time to purchase their usual morning stimulants from the scrawny older man around the corner: a medium cinnamon coffee for Yang, and a large dose of "coffee-flavoured syrup," as Yang teasingly calls Ruby's preferred sugary brew.
Once established, they fend off an early horde of shoppers, eventually greeting an eccentric, fast-talking man with a seemingly electrified shock of green hair whose thermos must contain at least as much sugar-enhanced caffeine as Ruby's cup. He explains that a colleague of his had recommended he pay their stand a visit to try their honey, which he does – one of everything, in rapid succession, each followed by a barely coherent verbal analysis.
"Ah yes I can tell just by the slight tang in the aftertaste that your bees are well fed and likely have a healthy variety of nectar sources to choose from; you probably have a tremendously well-pollinated garden in the vicinity of the hives which no doubt contributes to the excellent quality of your product if I do say so myself. Ah, the wonders of mutually beneficial organisms sharing and enhancing each other's quality of life! But of course you're not here for a lecture you're here to make a living so I'll take one of everything you have."
Several beats of silence follow in which Yang and Ruby both realize they are staring, their mouths hanging open as they struggle to process the onslaught of the strange man's words. He returns their stares through small reflective spectacles, now so still that Yang wonders if some passerby had accidentally nudged his "off" switch. Only the tips of his hair and his half-assembled yellow necktie show any signs of movement.
Ruby, clearly still waking up, breaks the silence. "Uh… what?"
"One of everything you have, please," he rapidly repeats, though not impatiently.
Ruby shares a wide-eyed look with Yang, and they scramble into action, filling a whole box for his order.
He adjusts his spectacles before lifting the weighty box with ease. "Many thanks, girls. I do hope your entrepreneurial efforts serve you well. In the meantime I must be going; until next time." He nods appreciatively, then abruptly turns and strides away on comically long legs.
Ruby, fascinated, watches him go as Yang resets the table and prepares more samples. "Well, that was a thing," the elder sibling remarks in appreciative amusement. She hadn't ever had a sale, much less a customer, quite like that.
Ruby's face lights up in recognition as she raises a finger in the air. "Oh! I know! That was Professor Boo… no... Oobleck? Yeah! I think he's Weiss' history teacher at Beacon!" she explains cheerily, only barely showing signs of her earlier weariness.
Yang grins as she imagines Ruby's uptight perfectionist "BFF" in a history lecture with the man. "If his lectures are anything like that, I'll bet Weiss' hands are constantly cramping from all the notes," she jokes as she tidies up the table, prompting Ruby to snort and giggle. "She's probably gonna need some ice for that – good things she's the ice queen!" Ruby's giggling turns into full-on laughter.
Satisfied, Yang turns back towards the loose crowd of the marketplace in anticipation of their next customer. In less than an hour we've already made more than most days. How could today get any better?
She has a few ideas, but fights to keep her hopes from getting too high.
Blake barely has enough time to greet Sun in the lobby of Fall Hall on Saturday morning before he spills the beans.
"Neptune told me about this place down by the river – farmers and craftsmen sell all kinds of junk there every weekend! There's probably lots of locally-sourced goods or whatever, which I thought might be your kind of thing. It's not far; come on, let's walk!"
Before she can offer any sort of response, he's already strolling out the doors and down the sidewalk, hands casually resting behind his head. She isn't eager to return to the site of two of her most recent socially awkward nightmares, and hadn't planned to return – at least, not until she ran out of honey again (which would only be a couple weeks at the rate she'd been enjoying last week's purchase).
Surprise indeed… Beats a low-key racist pub; I'll give him that. She follows, humoring his light-hearted small talk in her own quiet way, as always. Eventually she manages to slip in a mention of her previous visits.
"Wait, you mean you've been there before?!" Sun exclaims in exasperation. "Pfft, some surprise! Should we still go?"
Without hesitation, Blake simply states, "Yes," prompting a curious raised eyebrow from her companion. "I have… a friend there."
"Huh. Alright then, let's meet your friend!" he says, instantly placated. He does not pry for more details, which she appreciates.
As the bustling marketplace comes into sight, a familiar fluttering fills her stomach. A name she had almost successfully willed herself to forget springs to the tip of her tongue. I wonder if she's here today - if she's not still avoiding… no, if she even remembers me. But what is there to remember? It's not like we've actually met… but Ruby-
"So, uh. I know you don't usually like to talk about… stuff," Sun unknowingly interrupts, an unusually discerning expression forming as he half-turns to face her while still walking. "And I know you just need your Blake time once in a while, I get it. But lately, uh…" he springs ahead a step and turns fully around to face her, continuing their stroll backwards. "You doin' okay? You can tell me stuff, y'know." His eyebrows slant upwards in a rare display of genuine concern.
She slows their pace as they merge with the crowd, doing her best to keep her eyes ahead of both of them, ready to pull him out of someone's way at a moment's notice. She allows herself to smile at his earnest inquisition as a tendril of defensive humour wraps itself around her words: "You're cute when you care." She means it (in an objective, friendly way, of course), but she knows she's already given herself away by deflecting the actual question, and sighs her smile away. "It's… nothing you need to worry about. There's just some… things… I need to figure out."
"Alright," Sun shrugs ostentatiously, spreading his palms nearly into the face of a tall, green-haired main walking hastily in their direction with a heavy-looking box in hand. Blake pulls Sun out of his way in the nick of time, frowning apologetically as the man continues his purposeful stride. Did he even notice?
"Thanks, though, for asking," she offers, allowing herself another smile.
"HIII!" bellows an excited, high-pitched voice – Ruby?
Blake turns to look straight ahead – in the midst of their conversation, they had unwittingly placed themselves on the path leading straight to the honey vendor at the fork in the road. She waves as she recognizes the open-mouthed grin of the small, dark-haird girl. And, sitting next to her…
She's here.
Time slows, yet Blake can't formulate a thought or a word or a gesture to offer to the woman with the sunflower hair – Yang – who is now, definitely this time, looking her right in the eyes. Her face is bereft of the luminous joy Blake had witnessed two weeks ago, but her lilac eyes are wide. Well, at least she recognizes me… for better or worse.
A different word sticks itself to her tongue to replace the Yang's name, and her mouth only barely opens to verbalize it: "H-"
"Hah, you weren't kidding!" Sun's hand meets her shoulder, and she turns toward him. His pleasant smirk shifts once more to a surprisingly serious expression, laced with concern. "Look, you don't have to tell me anything. But you don't have to 'figure things out' alone."
Blake is stunned by the sentiment, but nods in sincere appreciation. Somewhere behind her eyes, something tingles ever so slightly – just for a moment.
"Maybe your new friends can help!" He announces, perking up again as he waltzes off towards the sisters.
Friends… plural. Let's hope… She jogs after him, approaching the sisters' simplistic setup. With each step her heart beats a little bit faster, and louder – and she's pretty sure it's not from keeping up with Sun.
Yang's heart skips a beat as her body suddenly seizes up in auspicious amazement.
Straight ahead down the path, not far from where the professor had vanished from sight, the faunus woman from two weeks ago strolls towards them. Same faded purple sweater, this time accompanied by black skinny jeans and short black boots. Same dark cat ears only just visible against midnight hair.
Ruby's laughter subsides as Yang just stares. "Uh… Yang?"
The woman isn't looking their way, and appears to be talking to someone, but from fifty feet away and through the foot traffic Yang can't tell who. But it doesn't matter, because she actually came back. Everything about this day so far suddenly seems so surreal. First, our largest sale ever, and now... I'm dreaming, right?
"Yang, what's…" Ruby prods, confused, until she follows Yang's gaze. "Oh! It's her! HIII!" she calls, turning several heads – but most importantly, her primary target.
Surprised, the woman's cat ears perk up at the familiar voice, swivelling towards the source. Oh my gosh, that is adorable. Wait, should I be thinking that? Yang swallows hard, clenching her gut to keep jitters of anxious anticipation at bay. Never mind that, it's time to make up for last time.
Honey-coloured eyes shine in their direction, recognizing Ruby first, which prompts a faint smile and a timid hand wave from the woman. Her eyes quickly flit in Yang's direction, and Yang feels her body temperature rise almost instantly. Okay, here goes.
She's been mentally preparing herself for the possibility of this encounter for the better part of a week, and yet she can't think of anything to say, so she smiles dumbly and opens her mouth, hoping for the best-
As she does so, the woman's hand drops, and her smile quickly fades as she appears to recognize Yang.
Whatever Yang's body had been about to say for her dies in her throat.
A cat ear flicks once, then twice as they stare at each other in uncertainty for a beat. Crap, that's bad, isn't it? Annoyance, or something? The woman's attention turns to her companion, who has placed a fingerless-gloved hand on her shoulder.
Yang feels her body temperature drop faster than it had risen, the resulting shift almost sickening.
The crowd parts enough for her to see them: her definitely-not-friend, the cat faunus, turned towards a taller, lightly tanned stranger with a heavily gelled mess of light blond hair and an equally blond tail – a monkey tail? He is, Yang figures, objectively handsome in a frat-boy-cool, rough-and-tumble sort of way: ripped blue jeans, red and white sneakers, and a loose-fitting collared shirt with way too many buttons undone, revealing a chain necklace of some sort and the hints of a well-toned abdomen.
Long, tan, and handsome – of course, she thinks, making a mental note to scoff and roll her eyes later. She restrains a frown, but then finds herself focusing on the way he so comfortably has his hand on the woman's shoulder, the way he smiles at her…
Yang looks away, noticing Ruby eagerly waving them over. "Look Yang, she brought another friend! Order up: two new friends for Yang Xiao Long!" babbles the younger, turning towards her sister with an excited smile.
Yang forces an uneasy smile in return, and turns back to their approaching visitors, anxiously scrutinizing the newcomer while trying to watch the woman in her peripherals.
Just try not to scare her away this time and maybe you can still salvage a shred of dignity from this.
Sun stops short a few paces in front of Yang's side of the table as Blake approaches, obscuring her line of sight to her maybe-almost-friend. She returns Ruby's smile, noticing a hint of tension in the younger girl's jaw. "Hi, Ruby," she says as confidently as she can, given the almost deafening sound of her own heartbeat.
Out of the corner of her eye she thinks she can see Yang eyeing Sun. Oh no…
"Hey… you…" Ruby replies, lingering conspicuously on the cadence of each word, before finishing, "...brought a friend!"
Does Yang really not like faunus? But Ruby… "Uh, yeah! Ruby, this is Sun. Sun, Ruby," she gestures between them with almost Atlesian formality as the two exchange short greetings. "And, uh…" Oh no. I only know her name because Ruby told me. Wait, was that even it? Blake is pretty sure steam is rising from her ears at this point. "...Yang, right?"
The blonde woman, who had been avoiding direct eye contact with her since they had come over, jolts upright and locks her widened lilacs on Blake once more. "...Uh. Yeah." After a moment, her eyes dart from her, to Sun, then back to Blake, and then she glances at her sister, who shrugs nonchalantly.
"I told her this was usually your job," Ruby explains coyly. "But of course, I was all alone last Saturday…" she frowns in mock distress.
"Hey now," warns Yang through a chuckle – though Blake detects a hint of hurt, or maybe even anger, in her tone. "At least when I make a friend I remember their name," she concludes with a triumphant smirk.
Huh?
Ruby chokes on a series of several squeaky, animalistic noises as she visibly cringes, her shoulders tensing as if preparing to swallow her head in a turtle shell of shame. "Wha-tch-jee-dss-NO! I didn't forget!" she protests, arms flailing defensively, but her expression wilts as she almost inaudibly admits, "I just… forgot to ask…"
Understanding dawns on Blake, and she tenses up almost as tightly as Ruby, albeit without the noises. Her lips squeeze together in embarrassment, but they cannot contain the oncoming outburst of realization: "I'm so sorry! I didn't-"
"Wow, some friends, Blake! They don't even remember your name," Sun laughs, poking her shoulder teasingly with his tail. "Allow me." He straightens himself up and begins gesturing with both hands and tail. "Ruby, Yang," he says with mock authority, "this is Blake Belladonna." He bows deeply as Blake's hands find her face to hide her own shame.
The sisters burst into laughter, a raucous but nonetheless harmonious song of pure amusement that may as well be a cool breeze, actually easing Blake's facial temperature down to a balmy only-slightly-dying-of-embarrassment, and she soon finds herself laughing along with them.
The shared laughter subsides, and for a few seconds Blake feels lighter. Whatever dark clouds had been weighing her down seem to have dispersed, if only a little bit. Though the laughter is finished, it leaves in its place a real smile.
As she finishes wiping a slight buildup of moisture from the corners of her eyes, she catches Yang's own smile – the same radiant, carefree expression she had worn two weeks prior following their… almost-encounter. However, her luminous lilac eyes are focused on Blake's companion as she asks, "So, to what do we owe the pleasure of this visit?" Her tone is friendly, but Blake detects a weariness in her cadence, and a hint of cautious fire in the way those eyes stare at Sun. She keeps looking at him…
"Well, I had to get Blake out of the house somehow… er, so to speak," Sun replies, clearly oblivious to the intensity of Yang's focus. As he nudges Blake playfully with his tail once more, she watches Yang glance between the two of them, but she never lingers on Blake. Instead, she appears to be constantly distracted by Sun's appearance, as if analyzing his every stylistic choice, every physical feature…
No…
The increasingly familiar feeling of drowning butterflies returns to her stomach with a vengeance. In a spasm of realization, she feels her fists clench, her ears twitch, and her face revert from no-longer-dying-of-embarrassment to an older but no less familiar type of heat: that of the heartbroken disappointment in realizing she had been foolishly holding onto false hope for far too long. She manages to choke off a violent whimper before anyone appears to notice, but she averts her eyes from the scene as Ruby chimes in.
"Pffft, what d'you mean? Blake's practically a regular already!" the younger sister exclaims, smiling up at Blake, showing no signs of having registered Blake's turmoil. "This makes three weeks in a row! Right, Yang?"
"Yeah, I guess." Yang's response is rapid, the delivery dismissive. She doesn't look at Blake at all this time, and her lips tighten as if withholding a frown.
I'm not the one she's interested in… Blake recalls Yang's absence the previous weekend. Was she really avoiding me?
"I need to get some vegetables for the week," Blake hears herself blurt out rather suddenly. She turns away from the sisters' stall and grabs Sun's forearm forcefully, eliciting a small jump of surprise from him. "Meet you in the park?" she asks, though she is sure to use a tone even he could recognize – it's not a question. She manages only a curt nod to Ruby before the stinging behind her eyes blurs her vision, and she stalks away with her fists clenched.
"Uh, sure," he calls after her, rubbing his arm where she had nearly squeezed her way through his skin.
"Um, okay, come back soon!" shouts a hopeful Ruby.
Nothing from Yang.
Always assume the worst.
As she nears the next corner she just barely picks up one last exchange with her cat ears, which betray her desperation by swivelling back towards the source, despite having probably been laid flat for the last minute or so.
"So, are you two…?" Yang's voice, curious, but guarded.
Sun's reckless laughter echoes through the marketplace as Blake storms into the public washroom, just in time for her facade of relative control to shatter, frustration and disappointment seeping out of her tear ducts.
Hoping for the best will disappoint you.
"Me and Blake? Nah, though at one time I had hopes. We're cool though," explains Sun, his perpetual smirk clearing the tension from Blake's sudden departure.
Yang does her best to disguise a heavy sigh of relief, although some questions remain...
"But you said you live together…?" inquires Ruby, her right eyebrow stretching towards her hairline.
"What? Oh, heck no, we'd be terrible roommates! We're just friends living in residence on campus, but separately," says not-Blake's-boyfriend-or-roommate.
Yang's anxious fists unclench underneath the table. She's not sure how long she'd been holding that position, but the deep indents in her palm suggest too long. What at first felt like the most ridiculously clichéd and nightmarish scenario imaginable is quickly turning out to be the happiest false conclusion of her life. Still, that was… weird. She didn't seem eager to stick around...
"Really? At Beacon? Which hall?" Yang can feel Ruby's excitement spreading; her sister's positive energy has always been downright contagious (after her morning dose of syrup, anyways).
"Fall Hall! Only the cool kids, am I right?" Sun flexes with a ridiculous grin on his face, eyebrows bouncing up and down. With his well-defined muscles already well on display, Yang is pretty sure the goofy gesture does little to enhance his theoretical appeal – and though it could be considered shallow, his carefree attitude makes it more endearing than annoying.
Ruby giggles at her new friend's antics, and Yang offers a relaxing chuckle of her own as she asks, "So what are you studying?" In the process, she subtly tries (and fails) to see where Blake wandered off to. I didn't even say goodbye…
"I'm just in Year One, trying to sort out the future, y'know." He shrugs. Yang feels a pang of sympathy, but still summons her usual deflective answer to the inevitable return question. "What about you…?"
"Ruby's in engineering! Graduated a year early and got straight in. My little sis is a geniussshhhfff--" Yang's sing-song praise is silenced by a whole fist of petite fingers being stuffed in her mouth.
"Yaaaaang! You're embarrassing me…" pouts Ruby as she struggles to stifle her sister's silliness.
Sun, unperturbed by the sisterly affection on display, gapes at her in admiration. "No way! That's awesome. You must be an even bigger bookworm than Blake!"
Bookworm, eh? Yang gently closes her jaw around her sister's hand, threatening to chomp down with vengeful force. The threat has the desired effect, and Ruby quickly withdraws, wiping her hand on her maroon jeans in equal parts panic and disgust. Yang takes this opportunity to pry. "Why, what's she studying?"
"She's in Year One as well, but she's gearing up for law school, so she's got a lot on her plate," he offers. Yikes. Yang tries to imagine the dark-haired faunus in court, donning a fitted business suit, maybe a purple necktie and dark-rimmed glasses, pointing dramatically at the judge and yelling "Objection!" – but based on Blake's most recent behaviour, something about that picture feels a bit… off.
"Wow, so she wants to be a lawyer?" asks Ruby, her fingers adequately dried.
"Nah, I think she's more into politics?" Sun posits, his tail twisting back and forth in deliberation. Yang tries to picture Blake speaking on a podium, surrounded by excited voters with obnoxiously large signs labelled "VOTE FOR BLAKE" in big block letters. Politician Blake begins to speak, but she just stammers and fumes and walks away abruptly.
Yang frowns. This girl's a lost cause.
Sun continues. "I dunno, I could never get a straight answer out of her. She's really into faunus rights, though, which… well, I don't follow the news much, but I know that's still kind of a big deal for a lot of people." He shrugs sheepishly, and adds, "She mentioned something about the White Fang, once-oh, hold on a sec."
His tail dives into his pocket, producing a vibrating scroll, which he passes into his right hand and slides open. "Yeah? Oh, yeah, okay. Be right there."
The White Fang… so she's an activist? Yang leans back pensively. She doesn't recall much about the organization, except that it's pretty much the first (or only) name that comes to anyone's mind when it comes to faunus rights these days. It occurs to her that Blake's activism probably put her at odds with humans pretty regularly. Was she nervous because we're human? …Maybe she's not "interested" in humans.
It also occurs to her that, in her distress about Sun and the potential nature of his relationship with Blake, she hadn't actually engaged in conversation with Blake directly. And while relieved to actually be learning about their new friend, Yang realizes that by acquiring all of this information from Sun, and not Blake herself, she has put herself at an unfair advantage. Judging by her apparent reservations, Yang wonders if Blake would even be comfortable with Sun sharing so much about her. If I hadn't been so worried about either of them seeing me looking at her, maybe I could have actually connected with her...
"Sorry, Blake-er, I gotta go," stammers Sun, his free hand rubbing the back of his neck. "Nice meeting you guys! Maybe I'll see you around!" he directs to Ruby as he turns and starts jogging away.
Maybe I scared her away after all…
"Uh, yeah! Okay! Don't be a stranger! Come back soon!" Ruby calls after him.
"Both of you!" Yang hears herself shout. Or maybe just one of you… no offense, monkey boy… agh, no, that's no good. Though she doesn't speak it, she clamps down on her tongue in frustration anyway as Ruby continues to wave goodbye.
With Sun now gone, the sisters assess the crowd in front of them… noting with wide eyes the small line of increasingly impatient looking customers.
Hope later; honey now, Yang chides herself as she wills her salesman's smile into place once more.
Her eyes sufficiently dry and free of any telltale signs of spillage, Blake returns to her bench of choice in the park by the river and stares bitterly up at the clouds.
This is silly. She hugs her knees to her chest. I'm being so childish… what am I even upset about?
She reluctantly revisits her latest living nightmare, trying to see it from every angle – but almost the whole time her eyes are on Yang, Yang's are on Sun. Sun remains oblivious to it all, but it isn't the first time Blake has watched a stranger fall under the spell of his physique, his carefree charm. For simply fitting into the ideal masculine beauty standard, people often tended to "overlook" their "preferences" - their way of saying that a hot guy with a tail was better than no hot guy at all.
To his credit, Sun wasn't completely clueless, or nearly shallow enough to pursue anything with such "interested" parties. Sometimes it took a sideways glance or foot-stomping from Blake, but inevitably he too would see the problem.
He hadn't exactly shown overt interest in Yang, but that didn't make it any better that yet again he had unwittingly enabled the thirsty appraisal of a stranger. It occurs to Blake that Yang might not even be interested in women, and honestly if that were the only thing going on here she would be okay with it. But the way she looked at Sun? She's no better than all those other humans who fetishize us.
A reluctant sigh escapes her as she blinks away a fresh mist of frustration. Okay, so I do know what I'm upset about. Still… she's just another stupid girl trying to get some tail from Sun. Yet, in the time it takes her to recognize and criticize her own wordplay, a shard of doubt manages to lodge itself in her assessment.
"Hey Blake!" Sun calls to her from across the park as he slows his jog.
She looks down towards him, doing her best to suffocate her own bitterness as she uncoils from her own embrace and stands to meet him. Her expression remains forcibly passive, though she has difficulty keeping her cat ears from sulking against her scalp.
"What's goin' on? We were just getting to know your friends… like, for real this time," he says through a hesitant laugh.
"I… I just wanna go home. I'll visit some other time." She clutches her arm, avoiding his eyes.
"Uh, okay, sure. Did you get your vegetables?"
Blake blinks in confusion before remembering her exit excuse. "Oh, n-no, they… didn't have what I was looking for." What am I looking for? Then, before she can betray herself any further, "Let's go."
"Alright then."
Their walk back to Beacon starts in silence, the bustling of the market behind them providing a welcoming blanket of noise to hide the tension in Blake's steps. As they get further away, Sun starts up his usual idle remarks (to which, thankfully, he doesn't seem to expect a response), but before long he jumps, remembering something.
"Hey, Ruby said she goes to Beacon too! Maybe you can catch up with her there sometime," he exclaims, adding a little skip to his step.
Blake's pace slows to a standstill, her gaze downwards as Sun stumbles to a halt in front of her. "What about her sist-Yang?" she asks tersely, already cringing at her own bitter tone.
If Sun notices, he doesn't show it. "Huh? I dunno, she didn't say anything about being a student. Maybe she's too busy doing bee stuff or something?"
A full time farmer? At her age? She considers it strange for someone so presumably young, although… I'm one to talk.
Backtracking, she supposes that coming across Ruby on campus wouldn't be unwelcome. Maybe she could apologize for running away – but how could I apologize to her... and not them? What would I even be apologizing for?
What concerns her more, though, is the lingering possibility that she might also encounter Yang at Beacon. Suddenly, her desire to seek out Ruby vanishes. If I never see that backwoods beekeeping blonde again it'll be too soon. Best to avoid Ruby then, lest she think I actually want to see her sister too.
She looks up at Sun, who is now eyeing her warily, clearly picking up on something in her silent stillness.
"You, uh, curious about Yang?" a sly smile tugs at the corner of his mouth, his eyebrows shifting knowingly. "Well, just so you know, she did ask-"
"No. I'm not interested. I don't want hear it," she interrupts, glaring ferociously at him. And you shouldn't be interested, either, she wants to say, but after saving him from so many contemptible companions before, she considers that maybe he needs to get burned for a change.
Sun flails his hands in front of him in protest. "Whoa-ho! I'm sorry, okay? I'll shut up…" he concedes defeat, slouching in disappointment as Blake surges forward once more, determined to get home without further incident. "But-"
"No, Sun!" she shouts, keeping stride to avoid breaking down again. The ambient rushing of the river and birdsong seem hushed for a few seconds, but eventually she hears the sound of his shoes scraping against the sidewalk – albeit several paces behind her – and nature resumes its noises.
They walk like that all the way back to Beacon. As they reach Fall Hall, Sun mumbles something about getting ramen for lunch. "I'm gonna head to the food court. You, uh, want anything?" he asks, though Blake can tell he is still put out from her angry outburst.
"No. Thanks." She opens the door to the residence, but lingers in the doorway long enough to hear Sun's solemn request:
"Don't be a stranger, okay?"
The door shuts behind her and she slinks into the elevator. Her pent up frustration dissipates with each step until finally, as the elevator embraces her in the first moments of privacy since her brief escape in the market washroom, she lets her erratic emotions melt forth from her honey-coloured eyes.
Hello again!
Apologies for the wait on this one - hopefully the length makes up for it! It's one of those chapters that seemed simple in my head but grew wildly out of control as I typed it out, so much so that I had a few alternate/extended versions of a few sections (which, maybe one day, might appear as "deleted scenes" or something, who knows). I even considered splitting it in two, but I think it works better as a whole. Hopefully the perspective changes are clear!
So even though I initially had a hard time focusing the dialogue and events in the directions I wanted them to go for this chapter, the important thing is that in the process I'm also figuring out a lot more about what else is going to happen, when, and how in this story. The framework is coming together nicely and when I get stuck on a current chapter I find I'm still able to unload a few rough ideas and early paragraphs into future chapters. I'm positively giddy about what I have down for the end of the story right now, and I promise that we'll get out of this angst nonsense soon enough, at least for a while!
Shoutout time: I've had a lot of valuable input and feedback from a few FNDM friends; particularly Reeves3 (author of Swimming Lessons), whose helpful reviews and positive reception to my bumbling plea for assistance were welcome rays of sunshine cutting through the growing cloud of ideas in my head! Also, thanks to elfcow on tumblr for some early brainstorming assistance - I'll no doubt have more questions for you soon enough!
As always, feedback is much appreciated! I'm floored by the positive reception so far and hope I can keep delivering to your satisfaction. Please let me know what I can do better, ESPECIALLY if anything ever rubs you the wrong way or seems confusing or something.
Cheers!
-kms