A big part of Weiss considered not telling her teammates about the note. Another part pointed out that she promised Ruby she would try to be better about sharing things moving forward. That latter part, after some private teeth grinding and shouting at herself, won out.
"We're coming with you," Ruby says, immediately.
"The note says 'Come alone'," Weiss says.
"So? Since when do we have to follow the baddies' rules?" Yang says.
"I think what Weiss is trying to point out is that we might spook this person if all of us show up," Blake says.
"She's certainly observant," Weiss says. "While we were fighting, she could tell something was unusual about me just from a couple of movements I made."
Weiss turns the glass emblem in her palm as she talks. It's a way to tell herself to calm the fuck down. She has the jitters like she did the night of the confrontation at the CCT Tower, but it's less severe this time, and at least she has no desire to run to the rooftop and start exhausting herself by trying to make herself bend when she can't bend. Progress, she thinks.
"We could follow you secretly."
"Which is automatically a bad idea for you and Ruby. You two don't do discrete very well."
"Do you think she's a student at Beacon?" Ruby asks. "How did she know this was your room?"
There's silence as all four of them mull the possibility over. It's something that Weiss hasn't considered, but it does make some amount of sense. If the woman was a student (or someone posing at a student), it explains how she could've escaped that night of the confrontation. With the Beacon Dance going on, she could've quickly changed and blended right in with the crowd at the party and no one would have been any wiser.
"I just think it's kind of weird that she was in here at all," Yang says. "That kind of gives me the creeps. Like, couldn't she have figured out some other way to get the note to you? Was she watching us sleep?"
Blake says, expression troubled, "We'll talk to the headmaster about this afterwards. And start locking the dorm room doors, I guess."
"Even though he told us to stay out of it?"
"He told us to stay out of the southeast quadrant. This isn't the southeast quadrant," Weiss points out.
"Anyways," Blake says. "I'm with Weiss on this one. I think she should go alone. If this woman really is related to Torchwick and the White Fang, this is too big of an opportunity for us to squander."
"It could be dangerous," Ruby frowns.
"I searched it up. The Twin Dragon is a fine dining restaurant in downtown Vale," Weiss says. Despite being turned over in her palm multiple times now, the glass emblem remained cool to the touch. It really was fine craftsmanship. "I hardly think I'm about to get assassinated in a place like that."
"It could be a front for the mob," Yang suggests.
"Still, in broad daylight?" Weiss says, skeptically. "Unless she actually means for me to meet her there at two in the morning… in which case she's really stupid. And I don't think there has been enough evidence to show that this woman is really stupid."
"Not stupid until proven otherwise," Yang muses. "I like that philosophy."
(Assuming competency and overestimating your opponent is always a sound strategy.)
Ruby's frown deepens. "Why does she want to meet you at all?" Ruby asks. "I just don't get it."
"I think we're going to be talking about fire," Weiss says, on a hunch, and she grimaces.
In the end, they compromise and decide to have Ruby stay in the cafe located across the street from the restaurant while Blake and Yang hang out at a bookstore a block down. Weiss was to call for help at the first sign of trouble and not to try to be a big damn hero and take down the woman by herself— not without backup, at least.
At one-thirty give or take a few minutes, Ruby and Weiss arrive at the cafe opposite the restaurant and proceed to make poor small talk while trying to keep an eye on up front to see if anyone fitting the woman's profile showed up. At precisely one fifty-seven, Weiss stands up from their table, gives a nod at Ruby's somewhat anxious wish of good luck, and heads across the street.
She's dressed in her usual attire for the purpose of practicality. She can feel the restaurant attendant's gaze draw to the rapier hanging at her hip, but he doesn't make a comment about it.
"Do you have a reservation, ma'am?"
"I'm meeting someone here," Weiss says. "My name is Weiss Schnee."
She really has no idea what she's supposed to do if the attendant turns her away. Just scan the restaurant until she sees someone fitting the profile and point at her in an aha! moment? Thankfully, the attendant's eyes light up.
"Right this way, ma'am," the attendant says.
The Twin Dragon is classy without being over the top like some of the fine dining establishments Weiss's family frequented in Atlas. The decor is in warm, earthy colors— mostly greens and browns. Weiss gives a little sigh as she is led away from the front of the restaurant and visibility of the street and to a more private area in the back. Maybe she will be assassinated here after all. She can imagine the headlines already.
Consolation: her death would be a huge headache for her father to deal with. Weiss has been steadfastly ignoring his phone calls lately. She knows she'll have to confront him sooner or later, but better later than sooner, she thinks.
(Coward.)
My father is not a good man, Weiss frowns, but at least he never planned on committing mass genocide.
Oh, right. I forget that slave labor gives you the moral high ground.
She's saved from having to come up with a mental retort when the attendant ushers her into a room and closes the door behind her. Two red flags pop up immediately. One: there are two women in the room, one sitting at the round table and one at the chair in the corner. Two: neither of the women resemble the woman she saw at the night of the CCT Tower.
Then, the woman at the table looks up at her, and Weiss meets her glowing orange eyes. Weiss relaxes marginally and places a hand on her hip.
"I have to come alone, but you get to bring an unwelcome guest?"
"The Schnee heiress in the flesh," the woman says, voice smooth and lilting and exactly the way Weiss thought it would be. "I have to say, a part of me is actually surprised you decided to grace me with your presence."
"Hard to miss your invitation."
"Why don't you have a seat?"
Weiss does so, stiffly. She examines the woman at the table in greater detail. Her features are different than she remembers, and her hair is a slightly different color, more brown than black. The woman in the corner of the room seems totally plain and unremarkable in a way Weiss can't quite place. Too plain, as if someone had tried to make themselves seem as inconspicuous as possible.
"Is it your Semblance that's doing this?" Weiss directs to the woman in the corner of the room. "Some kind of disguise work?"
"You don't have to answer that," the woman at the table says. "You're a little too sharp for your own good, aren't you, Schnee? Or is that, hmm, the other you, kicking around in your head?"
"How do you know about that?" Discreetly, Weiss's heartrate begins to speed up. She suspected as much, but to have it actually confirmed out of someone else's mouth…
"I suspected as much," the woman smirks, echoing her thoughts eerily.
The door to the room opens and a server comes in with a couple dishes in hand. He places them on the turntable before bowing, and stepping out. Weiss eyes the plates of dishes warily.
"I took the liberty of ordering for us," the woman says. "It's not the same, of course, but it's the closest thing I've been able to find in this city."
"The closest thing to what?"
"What do you think?"
Weiss doesn't move her hands, which are carefully folded in her lap to hide their twitching, towards the bowl and chopsticks in front of her. The smell of familiar spices reaches her nose, recreating the feeling of homesickness from the cafeteria despite the situation. The woman at the table begins to eat, seemingly totally at ease. The woman in the corner of the room doesn't do anything. So far, she's remained quiet during this interaction and almost entirely still.
"It's not poisoned, you know," the woman at the table says.
"You're a firebender," Weiss says. "You're Fire Nation."
"I won't correct that," the woman says. "But I do believe I have the right to not self-incriminate."
"Who are you? Why did you ask me to meet you here?"
"You can call me Ash for now," the woman says, sounding terribly amused as she gives the name. "And as for why I wanted to meet you… I'm simply curious. After our fight in the CCT Tower, I'd like to know more about you. You caught my eye, Schnee. Like a shiny little trinket."
"I don't believe that's all you want for a second."
"Well, I know you want to know more about me, too," Ash says. "I can practically see the desperation written in your eyes. Gold is a lovely color."
Weiss growls. Ash's smirk grows wider.
"I'm not in the mood for games," Weiss says.
"You're in no position to make demands, either," Ash says. "All the cards are on my side of the table. We'll play if I say we'll play."
"What were you doing that night at the Beacon CCT Tower?"
"That's not what you're really interested in. Let Ozpin and his ragtag group flop their incompetent way through that mess if they desire to. Ask me what you really want to ask and then I'll consider answering."
Weiss takes a breath and exhales. She has a feeling she is getting in over her head. That she is going to regret this. "I want to be able to firebend again," she says, slowly. "Tell me about how you were able to firebend."
"That's more like it! Was that so hard?"
Weiss glares, waiting.
"Firebending, in the true sense of the art, is lost in this world," Ash says. She sets her utensils aside and holds out her palm, and it lights it up with a flame, dancing and casting shadows across her face. Weiss's heartrate picks up even more and she hates how she wants to immediately reach for it, cup it in her own hands. "What I have here is an imitation of bending. No less powerful, and a very good imitation, but an imitation nevertheless."
The hunger rises up in Weiss, a hollow yearning. "Tell me how I can do that, then."
"What a demanding little snowbird. As you are now, you can't," the woman says. She snuffs out the flame. "It's not a power that can simply be developed."
"As I am now," Weiss repeats.
"As you are now," Ash purrs. Her orange eyes bore into Weiss like embers through dark wood. "My turn to ask a question. How long has it been since you started to feel the presence the other you? Please, do answer honestly. I've been nothing but honest with you so far. I think I deserve it."
"...A month and a half, roughly," Weiss says. It's the second time Ash has used the phrasing, the other you, and Weiss is starting to get uncomfortable implications.
"Hm," Ash says, cocking her head. "From what I can tell about you… You seem a bit farther behind in the process than I was at a month in a half."
"...Than you were? What process are you talking about?"
"Isn't it obvious? I was like you, once," Ash says. "For most of my life, I had dreams of another life in another world. Then one day, they stopped and a little while after that, I discovered I had picked up a new little friend in my head. Tell me that's not what happened to you."
Weiss says nothing for a while, simply taking in the alternating waves of unease and curiosity. Then, she says, "You seem to know a lot."
"I just told you I was like you, once," Ash says, smoothly, voice bubbling with low humor. "You have two minds in there. Use them and put the pieces together."
(Such disrespect!)
"Who is the one making that angry expression now?" Ash laughs. "Is that you, Schnee, or your friend?"
Calm down, Weiss orders herself.
I am calm.
"You said that the fire you have is something which can't be developed," Weiss says. "But it's not your Semblance, either."
"No, it's not," Ash agrees. She waves her hand nonchalantly. "It is something which must be stolen. For instance, if you killed me right now, the power would probably go to you."
Something dangerous in the woman's glowing orange eyes. Weiss hears a noise of surprise in the corner of the room— the other woman. She's baiting you, Weiss thinks, eyes fixated on the face of the woman across the table from her. Even when you and Ruby fought her together, she was basically toying with you the whole time. You can't fight her. Still, Weiss can't help but want to rise to the bait. She wants to burn her into the ground.
"But as you are now, you would be incapable of killing anyone, much less me," Ash says. "Not as if there isn't plenty of blood on your hands as a Schnee. But you are weak."
"You don't know me at all," she says, in a low voice.
Ash pauses as if a thought has just struck her. "I could know you," Ash says, contemplatively. "What's your name?"
(I am the crown princess of the Fire Nation, the rightful Fire Lord. I conquered Ba Sing Se, the crown jewel of the Earth Kingdom, singlehandedly and without losing a single life. I am—)
(I am—)
A moment of hesitation which allows Weiss to wrest control. "She doesn't have a name," Weiss says, and instantly regrets it at the undisguised interest that flashes through the woman's orange eyes.
"Oh?" Ash says. "She? No one doesn't have a name. Perhaps I can jog your memory."
"It's not a matter of remembering," Weiss says, tersely.
"Of course it's a matter of remembering," Ash says. "Not as sharp as I originally thought, I see. Or, ah. Is the Schnee holding you back…?"
"No one is holding anyone back!" Weiss snaps. "I— Fuck!" She holds her head, the sudden earsplitting pain. "Shut up."
"No, I don't think I will. I'm starting to rather enjoy myself now."
"I wasn't talking to you," Weiss hisses. She grimaces.
Get a grip of yourself.
Inhale. Exhale. Shudder.
Get a grip of yourself, Weiss!
Ruby's voice echoes in her ears.
"Why does she want to meet you at all?" Ruby asks. "I just don't get it."
Weiss presses her hand into her temple, trying to relieve the pressure. "You never answered my question. What am I doing here? I don't buy for one second that you were just curious. What was that process you were talking about? Answer my questions."
"I have a proposition for you," Ash says, lightly.
"No."
"You were right. I do have an ulterior motive with inviting you here. Of course I do."
"I don't cut deals with criminals."
"Don't think of me as a criminal. Just think of me as a fellow compatriot who only wants to light the world around us on fire."
Weiss opens her mouth to deny it but the words are stuck in her throat and refuse to come out. The woman laughs at the frustrated expression on her face. The door opens then, and a server pokes his head in.
"I think we're done with the food," Ash waves her hand. "Take it away, if you will."
When the server finishes clearing the table and disappears, she also gestures to the woman in the corner of the room. "Leave us, too."
"But—"
"It's alright," Ash says. "Look at her. I doubt the little Schnee here could hurt a fly even if she tried."
Weiss clenches her jaw and says nothing. A second later, the other woman stands up and nods. "I'll be right outside," she says.
The door closes. Ash stands up and moves from the other side of the table to the chair by Weiss. She leans in, conspiratorially.
"I don't like to repeat myself," the woman murmurs. "I'll say it once again. I have a proposition for you."
Weiss shivers at the proximity. She's close enough that she can count the woman's eyelashes. "And I told you—"
"I'm not only asking you, Schnee," Ash says. "What do you say, firebender without your fire? Wouldn't you like to reclaim it?"
Before Weiss's eyes, the woman's disguise falls away. Her hair turns raven black and her features become finer and vaguely familiar, as if someone Weiss had once seen in a dream. But her burning orange eyes are the same. Burning and hungry. Weiss thinks she can smell smoke, and underneath it something cleaner, like autumn and pine.
Weiss's lips move. "I don't rather like you. But I am not an unreasonable person, and I will listen to what you have to say before I make my judgment."
"Excellent," the woman with the orange eyes says. She pulls back, smiling. "I think you will find this arrangement to be mutually beneficial for the both of us."