The mission was supposed to be easy, straightforward, and perfectly suited for a first year team. Knowing Weiss's luck, that might've been why things went wrong.
They were at the easternmost edge of the Forever Fall Forest, at the boundary between where it and the Emerald Forest began to mix. A couple settlers were attempting to start a village but kept on getting harassed by Beowolves. A few Beowolves by themselves weren't a problem, but the settlers were worried that the Grimm could be signs of an entire pack waiting not too far in the wings.
Team RWBY, who was only supposed to be there to scout out the forest with the Huntsman, easily found the pack and disposed of it. They found something else, too.
"It looks like this used to be a White Fang camp," Blake frowned. "They must've abandoned it when they moved base closer to Vale and then to the southeast."
The corpses of the Beowolves which they had cornered and killed together were slowly dissolving into black smoke. Weiss flicked out the tip of Myrtenaster, watching droplets of blood fling from the blade. The tents around them were eerie and silent and weatherworn.
"I'll include this place in the report," the Huntsman said, briskly. He sheathed his sword and shot a glance at the setting sun in between the trees. "But we shouldn't get distracted. This isn't the objective of our mission. Let's do one more round around the area to find the stragglers before we figure out where we want to set up for the night."
They moved to leave the abandoned White Fang campsite which Weiss thought, though a disconcerting place, would have actually made a good place to set up for the night. Team RWBY's shared glances said that they would definitely be coming back to this place later to investigate further. Then someone's foot caught on something metallic and hollow. And that was about when the bombs went off.
In the present time, Weiss staggers to her feet and limps herself over to Blake. She's covered in burns and she's twisted her ankle and her ears are ringing from the explosions because god dammit, of course the White Fang had rigged their campsite with bombs before they left and of course her Aura's broken again. Weiss can't hear a single thing through the ringing in her ears, can barely see anything through all the smoke except her teammate's prone form on the ground a few feet from her. The edge of a hysteria-filled war-related memory creeps up her head but for now she's able to grab ahold of and tide it off with a strange ease. Now would be the worst time to get trapped in a memory throe.
Weiss kneels beside Blake and shakes her shoulder. Blake?
She assumes she's said her Faunus teammate's name aloud but she can't be sure without being able to hear her own voice. Blake coughs then rolls over onto her back, groaning. Blake's eyes are glazed over but slowly coming back into focus. Weiss checks her over for injuries— nothing visible, even her clothes are fine. Her Aura is probably still healthy. Weiss climbs painfully back to her feet and goes to look for the rest of their teammates and almost topples straight off into the edge of a pit.
Fuck, Weiss thinks she says, barely catching her balance in time. She decides to go back over to Blake and sit down on the ground besides her. She's going to wait for the smoke to clear and some of her hearing to repair itself before committing to any concrete actions. Yeah. That's the plan. That's a good plan. She tastes something in her mouth— the smoke and grit. Weiss spits onto the ground.
The memory of smoke, soot, ash… The memories, plural, more like it. Weiss sucks in a breath and presses a closed fist into her temple. One, two, three. She's alive. There's no war here. Inhale. Exhale. Shudder. She hopes Ruby and Yang are fine. They have to be fine. She's fine.
Her head hurts, but it's a different kind of headache pain than she's normally used to. She tests for the voice, the other her. She still can't hear anything. Not even her own thoughts anymore, it seems.
"Are Ruby and Yang down there?"
"What?" Weiss says, blankly. When had Blake stood up? Now her hearing is back, faintly, and the smoke around them is gone. It's darker than she remembers— the sun set some time ago. Blake is staring at the giant pit in front of them, a sinkhole into the ground.
"Come on. We need to go find them." Blake helps her to her feet. She looks at Weiss then bites her lip. "Shit. Weiss. Did you hit your head?"
"No, I…" Weiss trails off. She frowns. It's getting harder to concentrate.
"You did. This isn't good. Twice in two months. Were you ever fully cleared from your concussion?"
Well, obviously it's not good, Blake.
"You got them to let me leave early, remember?" Weiss says.
"That was a mistake, clearly," Blake exhales. "I didn't know then that your Aura would be so..."
"There's nothing wrong with my Aura. It wasn't a mistake. They were poisoning me. Okay, they probably weren't. But I was sure they were."
"Stay here. Don't move. I'll go look for them."
Suddenly Weiss is on the ground again, pressed against the base of a tree. Myrtenaster is clasped in between her sweat-slicked fingers. Blake is hovering above her, expression worried as she adjusts Weiss's position, casting worried glances around them.
Weiss squints at the outline of her teammate. "Since when did you have cat ears, Mai?"
"Weiss," Not-Mai— Blake— says. "Listen to me. This is important."
"I'm listening."
"Stay here. Don't move. Don't make any sounds. Try to stay awake if you can."
"Are you going to leave me again?"
"I'll be back soon."
"Oh," she says. "Well, I don't really believe you. You don't have a great track record with like, not betraying and abandoning me."
"Be safe, Weiss."
And then Blake is gone.
Weiss blinks.
She stares at nothing for a long time. All her limbs… It feels like they're floating away from her. She stays awake only because the idea of sleep doesn't occur to her.
And then Blake is back.
She blinks again.
Blake snarls. "I've always wanted to kill you. I hate you, you know that, Schnee?" Without another word, she drives Gambol Shroud into Weiss's right shoulder, pinning her to the tree. Weiss stares up into Blake's crimson eyes, Blake's drooling jaws. "I'm not afraid of you anymore."
Why wouldn't you be afraid of me? Weiss wants to ask, curious. You know, you really should have feared me more.
Myrtenaster is still clasped in her hand. Weiss has a sword. She should fight back. Weiss uses her left thumb to spin the chamber in a familiar movement. White Dust, or Red Dust? Ice, or fire? Which should she choose? It's always one or the other, teetering between the two. Both can't exist at the same time.
It doesn't matter. Just pick one. Her eyes feel like they're growing heavy. Blake's face transforms, getting more angular… Her father… Oh. She can't hurt her father, can she? He's the only one who ever cared for her.
Her father…
...
Her hand goes limp. Someone cries out her name. "Weiss!"
She's…
She…
…
Weiss wakes up in a field of endless fog in every direction.
"Oh," she says, numbly. She looks down on herself and sees her miraculously once more intact shoulder. "So, I died."
"You're not dead."
Weiss looks up.
Out of the fog emerges a girl with dark hair and golden eyes staring at her, dressed in red robes. Fire Nation, Weiss thinks. Her eyes trail to the crown of the girl's head, where she expects, almost instinctively, to see a golden headpiece. There is none. Her eyes go back to the girl's face, the fine, royal features, the set of her expression, incredibly alien yet at the same time intimately familiar.
The girl stops about five feet away from her. The girl, Weiss realizes, is a little taller than she is. She carries herself with a grace and poise that Weiss knows then that she can never truly accomplish, only imitate.
This is their first meeting, face to face, as only themselves and not also the other.
"Weiss Schnee," the girl says. She brings her hands together, fist to palm, and bows.
"I… I don't know your name," Weiss says, helplessly. "I'm sorry."
"It doesn't matter anymore," the girl says. She straightens. "Every day I'm in this place I forget a bit of myself a little more. My name was the first thing that was lost to me. So it doesn't matter."
"But it's your name. It should matter."
"What did you once say? That I live through you now? That my words have to go through you, or they won't go anywhere? Something like that."
"In the beginning," Weiss recognizes. "To my teammates. When I first realized you were there. I didn't know you could hear me."
"If you can hear me, then of course I can hear you."
The girl takes a step towards her.
She says, "I don't remember clearly how I got to this place. Maybe you could find the memories. I've never been good at remembering, but somehow, you remember things that I haven't thought about in years, from before I became a monster."
"You're not… We're not…" Weiss looks away. "You're not crazy. You're not a monster. You did some bad things, but you were in pain."
"You don't have to make excuses for me. I am more than capable of it myself. That woman with the orange eyes," the girl says, stepping in closer. "She means to do you harm. She will kill you and your friends, given the opportunity. You won't be able to stop her. But I can deal with her. I am an excellent fighter and a capable strategist. All you have to do is do let me take over."
"What? I… I don't understand. Take over?"
There are shapes forming in the fog behind the girl's shoulder. Weiss's breath quickens. She recognizes them.
It's her father. Jacques. He smiles at her, kind. Besides him, her mother, face clear of age lines and sober for the first time since she can remember. Then, finally, Whitley. Gaze bright and steady, hands clasped behind his back.
Their bodies flicker. For a moment, Weiss sees different people in their place. She sees a man with long dark hair in crimson robes, a crown atop his head, a prideful stance. A woman who looks to the side with a fond expression, at her son. A boy with a burn scar.
Zuzu. They reach towards her, with plaintive fingers. Come here, _zu_. More and more figures emerge from the fog. A girl who reminds her of Ruby. A girl who reminds her of Blake.
"Take my place here," the girl says. "And I'll take yours. Let me become the dominant one in your body, the one with all the control."
"But…" Her eyes are fixated on the figures behind the girl. "Can I even do that? Is that even possible?"
"Even though you act cold and indifferent, you are a bleeding heart. You're soft and indecisive. That's why the woman with the orange eyes said 'as you are now', you won't be able to firebend. If you just listen to me— just listen to me— I'll make you into a true fighter."
"Firebending, again," Weiss says. A lump is growing in her throat. She finally tears her gaze away from the figures in the fog only to see that the girl is standing right in front of her now, close enough that she can count the girl's eyelashes. "It's always firebending with you. Can't you care about anything else?"
"I think you know how I am," the girl says, and smiles, a razor-thin expression with no humor. "What else should I care about?"
"I don't know. Something… Something else."
"What? Like revenge? Like becoming Fire Lord?"
Weiss tries to swallow. The lump remains. "We're not going to do what that woman said," Weiss says. "We're not going to kill a person."
"We won't kill a wounded, defenseless girl, of course," the girl who is Weiss but not Weiss says, and puts her hands on Weiss's shoulders. "But I think that woman herself is fair game, isn't she? You don't like her. I don't like her. The answer to the problem is perfectly simple."
The hands on her shoulders rest lightly but Weiss feels them like boulders. "No. I won't let you kill anyone. And about giving you control, switching— I won't take your place here. I still don't trust you. I— I think you're just trying to use me so that you can get your bending back. The things you want. Nothing more than that. Even though you're not a monster, at the end of the day, you're still… you're still not a good person."
Weiss hates this. She barely has the courage at all to say what she does. But even if she hates it, it is the plain, unalterable truth.
The girl is not a good person.
She is strong and smart and courageous and cunning, all the things that ought to make a good leader, a better Huntress, a better Weiss. But she is not a good person.
"Your sense of morals, is it?" the girl sneers. "How very dutiful and hypocritical of you. I know you hate me. You wish I were gone. You think you're better off without me."
"I don't hate you," Weiss says, quietly. "In a lot of ways, I think I see myself in you. I'm not exactly a good person, either. Just as I know you, you know me as well."
The silence hangs between the two of them, heavy and oppressive. The girl says nothing for a while. Her golden eyes bore into Weiss with a disarming intensity that makes Weiss feel like she is staring into a mirror again, waiting for something to tip over the edge. Those are bottomless eyes. Weiss almost wishes her head would start hurting, so she could have a distraction from the blood pounding through her ears. She wishes she could read and understand that expression.
She feels cold.
"I rehearsed that speech, you know," the girl says. And suddenly, her hands are moving from Weiss's shoulders to lock around Weiss's throat. "So be it."
Weiss's eyes widen as she feels her air supply instantly cut off and she starts to choke. This isn't the real world, is it? She's not actually in this place, wherever she is, is she? But it feels real. In a way, wherever they are, it's real. That iron hard, crushing grip, totally lacking in hesitation and mercy.
Weiss struggles, trying to shove the girl away. She finds herself thrown onto the ground, pinned down. Her own hands close uselessly around the other girl's wrists.
"You should've just listened to me," the other girl says, from above her. "You should've listened. But you're weak, Weiss Schnee, just like my brother. Just like everyone else. Please. You're nothing like me."
Weiss gasps. She can feel dots collecting in her field of vision. She struggles to form words. The girl is actually trying to kill her. "I…"
"I'm strong," the other girl hisses, grip tightening. "I don't deserve to be stuck here, in the same body as you, in this world. I deserve better. I've always deserved better."
The pressure around Weiss's throat abruptly dissipates. Weiss rolls over on her side, sputtering for breath. She looks up, and the warning she was trying to issue dissipates, too.
The same brother who the girl called weak has his hand wrapped around his sister's wrist. Suddenly, the girl looks so small, standing next to him, looking up at his face with wide, golden eyes.
"Why don't you give it up already?" Zuko says, sounding bored. "You're not fooling anyone. You're a failure."
It's a delayed reaction, but the girl shrieks. She tugs at her arm in a frenzy and begins desperately trying to back away but Zuko has her held fast, his feet anchored solidly. That earlier composure, that cold ruthlessness, has vanished into a sheer mindless panic.
Another figure manifests out of the fog. Ozai. He reaches for the girl and grabs the girl's other wrist. "Worthless thing," he sighs. "You never learn well, do you?"
"Father, no! I can still prove myself! Let me prove myself! I'm—!"
And then, the third figure, Ursa. "Daughter of mine," she says, shaking her head, disappointed. "Really, even for a monster, you are a nothing."
Ursa caresses the girl's cheek once then turns and starts to walk away. Zuko and Ozai follow Ursa in the same direction, dragging the girl through her screams and struggles, away from Weiss. The girl is all but hysterical now. She starts to disappear into the layers of the fog, the edges of her figure vanishing like thin smoke. "No! NO!"
The girl looks up. Across the vast gulf that exists between them, her eyes lock into Weiss's. For a moment, Weiss sees only herself. She sees Jacques, backhanding her across the face, Willow, bottle in hand and looking passively away, Whitley cowering.
It's Weiss's turn to scream. "Stop!"
The fog clears.
She's in a white, padded room, lit by a single light above. The air is cold, below freezing. Weiss turns around and sees the girl sitting in a chair, curled up with her arms around the knees.
The girl has dark hair and golden eyes. She's wearing red robes, crownless. The set of her expression is impossibly familiar.
"In the end, I couldn't do anything," the girl says. "I don't have anything. I'm just a failure, a worthless thing, a nothing."
Weiss reaches for her. She says, "I'm here for you."
"You can't possibly understand the way I feel," the girl says. "You can't."
"It's okay to let yourself remember," Weiss says. "I know it hurts and it's confusing and it makes you want to lash out. But it's okay. I'll help you."
"You can't help me."
"I can, if you'll let me."
"I'm a monster."
"You're not. You're just in pain."
"Why am I still here?" the girl says, resigned. "I don't understand. There's no reason for me to be here or anywhere. Being alive. It's such a stupid joke."
She's just a kid, Weiss thinks. We were only kids. She comes to a realization. In the end, it is as much Weiss who is unable to let the girl go and let her move on. It is Weiss who thinks, This is your second chance, I want you to live. It is Weiss who has imposed the burden of this will on her.
"Tell me your name," Weiss begs. "Please."
"I told you that I don't remember," the girl says. "It's gone. It doesn't matter."
Weiss wants to reach out to touch her. But even as she tries to draw close, the other girl is drawing away.
"Don't pity me," the girl snarls. "Pity yourself. You've made a horrible choice letting me stay here. You could've gotten rid of me a long time ago if you really wanted. You're the one who let me in. You're… Well. The truth is, you're stronger than me."
"It's not a matter of strength," Weiss says. "Not everything has to be divided that way. I'm not stronger than you, not at all. Just luckier."
"You'll have to kill me sooner or later."
"No."
"You'll have to."
"No."
"What if I told you I was killing you?"
Weiss blinks.
The girl sighs, a long and impossibly tired sound, and covers her eyes with the back of her hand.
"I think you've already realized this but you're just in denial," the girl murmurs. "That thing you call your Aura is deteriorating. When it comes down to it, the reason is simple. It's your soul being devoured by mine."
"My soul," Weiss repeats, not understanding. "Being… devoured?"
"The way things are progressing now, it's only a matter of time before I gain full control of your body anyways," the girl says. "And then you really will be dead, and there will only be me. Two souls can't exist in the same body forever. Something has to give eventually. You won't be able to take the strain of sustaining me."
"But—!"
"I said it was a horrible choice," the girl says. She laughs, a hollow sound. "Are you rethinking your decision now? Won't you kill me? Aren't I a parasite?"
Weiss looks away.
"How did you even end up here?" Weiss asks. "How… How did you lose your original body? Did you die? Do you really not remember?"
"I looked into a river, and fell into another place, and from there, into here," the girl says. "I don't know how or anymore than that. As for my body, I'm sure it's still stuck in that place in the in between, the Spirit World."
Weiss seizes onto that information with sudden, renewed hope. "Then we just need to find your body there again," Weiss says. "You can go back to it. And we can both live."
"That's impossible."
"Why?"
"How can I possibly go find anything when I'm trapped in a place like this?"
"We can look harder. More research. If you entered my world through the Spirit World, then there has to be a way to enter it from here."
"Like looking hard and research helped you with anything so far. You've found nothing."
"It's doable. We just have to change our approach."
"I think it was your brother who once told you this. Whitley, was it? You are an idealistic fool. Even before you came to this school and were affected by your team's nonsense. You would throw away your chance to rule the world away just to play soldier."
"And no one said you could conquer Ba Sing Se, but you did it anyways," Weiss snaps. "No one said you could do any of the things you did, but you fucking did them anyways, because you're you, you defied destiny, the heavens, and yet here you are, just giving up before even starting. If I was idealistic, what were you then, huh? Where did all your confidence suddenly go? You're supposed to be dead but you're not. If you're going to kill me anyways, then at least make it worth it!"
The girl stares at her. Weiss doesn't back down this time, doesn't hesitate, just meets her stare evenly.
She sees a spark of something buried but familiar in that gold color.
"A speech as stupid as that," the girl says, slowly, unwrapping her arms from her knees. "I'm really going to let myself be inspired by it?"
"Yes," Weiss said. "At the very least, you owe me that much."
"I don't owe you anything. I'm the princess of the Fire Nation and the greatest firebender to walk any world and you're just an icicle peasant."
"There we go again, that unbeatable arrogance," Weiss rolls her eyes despite herself. "Also, icicle peasant?"
"What can I say? Your brain is rotting mine."
The girl stands up and stretches. She glances at their surroundings and abruptly they dissolve. Now they're standing in a stone courtyard, the sunlight streaming from overhead. The sky above them is so very blue.
"So you'll do this. You'll let me help the both of us live," Weiss says.
"At the very least, there's a lot of people who I still need to pay back," the girl says. "Revenge is a great motivator."
"That's the thing you took away from our conversation? Are you joking?"
"No. And, you need to give me control."
"I already told you—"
"Maybe not all of it," the girl says, seriously. "But still, you need to give me more. We need to reach a balance. Stop fighting against me all the time. You already refer to me as the other 'you' anyways. It's ridiculous that I of all people have to give you the 'let's work together' speech. Yin Yang, push pull—Balance."
Weiss says, hesitantly, "You're telling me to trust you."
"I'm trusting you," the girl says, simply. "You said I'm not a monster. Then believe it. If you want to help me so badly, then let me help you first."
The girl holds out a hand.
"Well then, Weiss Schnee?" she says.
Weiss wakes up in the infirmary again. She touches her forehead.
A memory.
"That's right," she says, only vaguely surprised. "It's Azula."