Author's Note: I'm taking chem notes in another window, let's do this.
Glynda Goodwitch sat at her desk, looking over a few memos from Ozpin, when her student, Ruby Rose, walked through her door. "You… You wanted to see me, Professor Goodwitch?" she asked, in an uncharacteristically timid voice.
"Very glad you could make it, Ms. Rose," Glynda said, and gestured to a slightly wide chair opposite her. "Have a seat." Ruby did so, making sure to keep her cloak behind the backrest, as Glynda put the memo aside and folded her hands on the desktop. "Now, I'm sure you know that at Beacon, it is imperative that we keep our students in top shape, physically, mentally, and emotionally."
"Yes, Ms. Goodwitch. I read the website before I came here." Though Goodwitch believed the remark was meant to defuse the tension that comes with the dreaded teacher's office, there was no semblance of mirth in her inflection.
"That being said, you've seemed very…" Glynda's eyes wandered for a moment. "How do I put this… Out of it today during classes and sparring." Sensing Ruby's distress, she put her hands out, palms facing her student. "I did not call you here to punish you for it. We all have our days." Glynda's hands returned to the folded position. "But I've been faculty at this academy longer than the great majority of our instructors. And from my experience, one is only distracted to this degree if something is bothering them very much."
Ruby shifted in her seat as she folded her arms across her chest. "It's… No offense, Professor, but it's kind of personal…"
"Ruby, it's alright if you need to tell me something," Glynda said, her tone reassuring. "It never has to leave this room." At this, Ruby dropped her arms, letting them rest on the desk.
"Yang and I… We got a letter from our dad this morning." As she spoke, her voice began to waver. "My… Our uncle Qrow is on this mission, checking in on one of the settlements outside of Mistral, but… He hasn't reported to anyone in a while…" Her silver eyes filled with tears. "They think he's dead." Ruby brought her face into her hands, and began to sob.
Glynda was, of course, loathe to see one of her best and brightest students in this state, and once her student started crying, she rose from her chair and circled the desk to join her student on the chair (which was, of course, specifically ordered by her for these situations). "Ruby, I'm so sorry," she said, as she gently put a hand on her shoulder. "But just remember: As long as he's only missing, there's hope.
Ruby's hands fell away from her face, as she turned her head towards Glynda. "Wh… What do you mean?"
"Just because you haven't heard from him, that doesn't mean he's dead. In fact," she said, "can I tell you a little secret?"
"Wh-What?" Ruby said, her voice sounding slightly less distressed.
"Your uncle did things exactly like this back when he attended this school."
"Really?"
"Of course. On solo training missions, he'd sometimes yank off the tracker and toss it aside. I think he did it just to mess with his sister. She got less and less worried every time. And every time he always came back, and proclaimed in that dramatic tone:" She briefly imitated his voice. "Miss me?"
Ruby laughed at this. It was a small, somewhat watery laugh, but it was a laugh nonetheless.
"You don't have to worry about your uncle," Glynda told her, returning to what was known to the faculty and some students as her "mom voice." "My advice to you would be, and is, to hope for the best. And I shall as well. Because…" She laid a soft hand on one of Ruby's. "He's my friend too."
Ruby wrapped her arms around her teacher, and Glynda could feel tears not of sadness, but relief, staining her dress shirt. "Thank you, Professor Goodwitch."
"Please, Ruby," Glynda said, returning the hug. "Call me Glynda."
"Okay," said Ruby, removing herself to look her teacher in the eyes. "Glynda." And before the professor could ask how Ruby was feeling now, she got her answer.
An answer that came in the form of a pair of soft lips pressed against hers.
"I should get going," said Ruby, disengaging herself from the kiss. "Thanks again, Ms. Goodwitch!" And in a flurry of rose petals, she was gone.
Glynda snapped out of her slight daze, and returned to her desk. As she looked over a few papers to be graded, one thing was very clear in the back of her head: Teenage hormones and emotional distress were a volatile catalyst indeed.
Author's Note: Alright. Two down… Um… *counting on fingers* Let's see... *mumbling* Seventeen to go! Have fun figuring out who those seventeen are, while I cook up tomorrow's chapter: Cinder Fall!