"Thank you, Mister Hima." James says after paying for the tie, which he hasn't taken off. I wanted it to be a present, but he said that choosing it for him was already a gift, and he didn't let me pay.
"It will be my collection's crown jewel." He smiles, once we're on our way back to the Academy. The fact that he's in such a good mood makes me happy; however, since I'm staring at the floor as we walk and I'm still shocked he hugged me, my discreet smile doesn't really show it. "The starry pattern is really beautiful – I must recognize I was a bit envious of your cape." He softly laughs. "Oh! It has just reminded me that I have yet to show you my office. How could I have forgotten? We could go tonight, if you want to. I guarantee you the views are worth it."
My heart lights up at his offer, but I just nod in silence. I can hear the sound James' breath makes when he slightly opens his mouth to add something, only to be interrupted by his ringing scroll.
"General Ironwood." He says when he picks it up. "Oh. Hi, Winter."
Curious, I raise my sight a little when I hear my sister's name.
"Yes. Oh, that would be excellent! Will you stay for dinner? Oh… Alright. See you later, then. Goodbye."
He hangs up.
"Winter says she will be visiting us this afternoon. I told her some days ago that your brother had Myrtenaster sent to you, so she has been trying to get work done in advance in order to make some spare time for her to train with you. She's still quite busy, though, so she won't be staying for dinner, but it will be nice having her around for a while, don't you think?" He asks with a smile.
Normally, I would have jumped of happiness at the thought of Winter and I training together – this time, however, my smile only accentuates a little, still unnoticed. "Yes." I say quietly. It must not be the reaction he was expecting, because he frowns a little before quietly asking:
"Are you alright, Weiss?"
I don't know.
Am I?
"I…"
I look him in the eye, and when I do, I can see how his ghosts of guilt come out from the deepest of his mind and start gathering up behind his irises, eclipsing his stars. His frown deepens, and his jaws tighten. If I have learnt something from my stay in an empty Atlas Academy only with James' company, is that he has a terrible tendency to do that – to blame himself for absolutely everything. It's not fair for him.
"Is it because…?"
"It's not your fault." I quickly declare – my voice, suddenly coming back to me only to fade away right after, and I quiet down again.
How do I tell him? How do I tell him that, for quite some time now, a day won't pass without me longing for the soft touch of his hand over my shoulder, for his voice echoing in the empty halls as he calls my name? How do I tell him that now I've felt how warm his embrace is, Atlas' wintry breeze seems like nothing compared to the lack of his arms around me? I feel like I'm freezing on every inch he rested his hands upon, and not even ten minutes have passed since we left the tailor shop. I wonder… is this how it's going to be, from now on? Every time he's not touching me, even with gloved hands, am I doomed to this painful cold until he does it again?
The answer is simple: I can't tell him. For now, the only thing I can do is sigh, and say:
"I'm just cold."
It's a half-truth, anyway.
Only two seconds after, I shudder under the unexpected weight of his uniform jacket over my cape, and I smile softly and hold it tightly. If I close my eyes and inhale deeply, I can pretend we're back in the fitting room.
It's not his arms, but it'll do for now.
"Would you like a warmup before your sister arrives?" He suggests once we're back in the Academy. Although I've had Myrtenaster for a few weeks, I still haven't trained yet. I could have done it with James, but he has been resting both physically and mentally, and I didn't want to ask him to because he would have said yes even though he wasn't recovered. Training alone is something I used to do when I was trapped at the Schnee manor all bored and lonely, but now that I'm not anymore, I prefer spending my days just small talking with James and resting my mind, too. However, it's true that I miss the feeling of my perfectly balanced rapier in my hands.
And I would love to train with him, too.
"How's your… trembling?" I ask cautiously, taking the jacket off and returning it back to him. His wooden fragrance, caught in every corner of his jacket, has made me somehow regain some strength in my voice. I still feel his phantom touch on my back, but I can force myself to ignore it for now. "Do you think you can fight?"
"It's better." He responds with a soft smile. "Still a little shaky as you noticed at breakfast, but I think I can manage."
He threw away the blooded little paper pieces that were stuck to his cheeks earlier this morning, but the small scabs that reveal where he cut himself are still visible. I kind of miss his ten-day stubble, but I take his -more or less successful- attempts of shaving every four or five days as a sign that he's saying the truth.
"Alright, then." I concede, smiling back. "But I would need some powdered Dust."
"There's a bit of every kind in the training room, I believe - at least there used to be before the students left."
"Perfect. Let me grab Myrtenaster first."
He accompanies me to my room to take my rapier, and then we walk through the hallways until we make it to a big metallic door with Atlas' logo engraved on its surface. It glows blue when he presses a white button on the wall, and the door opens right after.
It's just a black, huge and empty room with blue leds on the ceiling and a window at the top that serves as a lookout. I didn't really have any expectations, but the truth is that I feel slightly disappointed – knowing Atlas' state-of-the-art technology, I had imagined it to be… I don't know. I thought there would be screens that would let you pick an enemy, and it would materialize as a hologram in front of you, or something. Maybe some of the military's battle robots to battle against, too. But this? Come on. Even Beacon's training room was better, and it was literally a little room with a white mat and some weapons hung on the wall, which we obviously didn't use because we had our own. I mean, we didn't need a lot more since we could just go train in the forest and it doesn't rain that much in Vale, but what are Atlas Academy's students supposed to do, go fight each other in the courtyard even though it's freezing outside only to have something to interact with that it's not just a plain empty room?
"What's with that face, Weiss?" James asks, raising an eyebrow and slightly smiling.
"Is this all?" I ask disdainfully, pointing at the empty room with a gesture of my hand.
"What? Of course not." He laughs. "Let's take the Dust you asked for before we start, shall we?"
I frown, intrigued, but I follow him to the room with the lookout. There's a pretty nice view of the fancy, state-of-the-art nothingness from up here, isn't it? James takes off his left glove and places his hand on the fingerprint reading screen. A camouflaged drawer opens and reveals a collection of powdered Dust vials.
"Which ones do you need?"
"Red, blue, yellow, cyan, white and purple." I name.
He takes six vials and hands them to me. I head to the table and carefully extract the practically empty vials from Myrtenaster; then, I replace them with the new ones. I don't realize James is looking over my shoulder until I hear his voice not more than five centimeters away from my ear.
"Could I see it?" James asks with interest.
I shiver at the feeling of his breath so close to my skin, but I manage to conceal it.
"Of course."
He picks Myrtenaster so gently that I believe he thinks it's going to break. He examines its blade with critical eye and tests its balance – a soft smile appears in his face as he spends some time just admiring the beautiful silver engravements of the bridges that join the blade with the handle and runs his index fingertip along its surface. Very carefully, James makes the cylinder spin – he seems fascinated by my rapier's revolver mechanism. It's strange seeing him with a sword-like weapon, but even though Myrtenaster seems to be too tiny for him, I kind of like it. Maybe a bigger sword would fit him more.
"I've always wondered how you students manage to make a gun out of almost everything." He says, still examining the cylinder.
"Myrtenaster is not a gun." I correct him. "It has no bullets. But I know what you mean – all my teammates' weapons can turn into firearms, too. I don't really see the appeal, but it's handy, I suppose." I say, shrugging. "You know… you have a melee weapon, but, surprise! It's also a gun."
"I… I think I prefer a gun that's only a gun." He softly laughs before returning Myrtenaster back to me. "It's beautiful. Truly a masterpiece."
"Thank you." I smile, and I hook it to my belt. It's nice feeling the light weight of my rapier hanging from my waist once again, fully functional and ready to be used. We make or way down to the empty training room once again – even though it's still a disappointment, I'm starting to feel the sweet, tingling sensation on my fingertips before a training session. In one of the side walls, he points at yet another button.
"Okay, Weiss. Would you do the honors?"
I raise an eyebrow, but I play along and push the button anyway. An actual holographic screen appears right before my eyes, blinding me for a second. "Oh." I murmur, and I blink a couple of times to try to get used to the sudden source of light. There's a checkered rectangle onscreen. "What is that?"
"It's a map of the training room."
"But I only see squares."
"Because it's bidimensional. You have to make it tridimensional." He says, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
"What do you mean?" I ask, confused, and I lean my head.
"Touch a square and slide your finger up." He smiles.
I do as he says, and a column made of digital cubes is created under my finger – only two seconds after, a noise behind my back makes me jump in surprise. When I turn around, the very same column I just built onscreen has materialized right before my eyes.
"What…?"
"The battle arena can be designed in any way one pleases." He says, answering my unspoken question. "It doesn't have changing ecosystems like Amity Arena did, but it's useful to picture different kind of scenarios. For example, if you do this…" He says, standing by my side and creating some new columns behind us. "You have a space that's pretty similar to the Academy cafeteria. Or, if you do this…" He moves some cubes again. "See? That's my office."
It's hard to imagine how his office looks like with just a few cubes, but I get what he means – the space we can move around is pretty much the same as if we were there.
"I like it." I say. This is something up to what I was expecting – not just a plain, empty room, but a modern training room that works with fancy Atlas technology. "Can I design the arena?"
"Of course." He says. "I forgot I need one powdered Dust vial too, so I'll go get it in the meantime."
"Do your guns need Dust?" I ask, interested. I don't remember him using it at the Battle of Beacon.
"Only one of them." He says.
"What kind?"
"It wouldn't be smart of me if I told you." He smiles. "You will see." He turns around and heads to the room above, and he leaves me wondering what his guns' special ability will be. I watch him go until he disappears up the stairs. Red Dust, maybe? No, I doubt it. I don't really see him shooting balls of fire out of his gun. Maybe it's fire bullets? But he would need Dust ammunition for that, not powdered Dust. The same thing happens with blue dust – maybe ice bullets, but definitely not icicles. I can picture him shooting hard-light projectiles, though. Something doesn't quite fit at all, but I guess it must be cyan powdered Dust. It's what suits him best, I think.
Hm.
I return my attention to the screen next to me, and I lean my head a bit, thinking about what kind of arena I could design. Nothing too big to not fit in this room – nothing too small to be done with the battle only a minute in. An idea pops up in my mind, and I carefully start building columns under my index finger. It takes me a while since I've chosen a slightly difficult scenario, but once I'm almost done, I turn around to contemplate my work. James can't see me from the lookout anymore, because I'm now under a colonnade that runs alongside this wall – there's another exactly like this one on the opposite side of the room. From here I can see the staircase I built right in the middle of the room, but I step outside to check the corridors that run right over the colonnades. I smile, pleased, before returning to the screen. One final touch and…
"Are you done, Weiss?" James' voice comes from the stairs, right at the end of the colonnade.
"Almost." I respond. My fingers land on the screen for the last time, and to finish I build two more huge columns flanking the staircase. "Now I'm done."
"I've been looking at you from above until you built this over yourself." James makes it to my side, and points at the colonnade ceiling. "It's… an intricate design." He says, raising an eyebrow. "What is it?"
"The Schnee Manor's main hall." I say.
"Oh. Those big columns you just built are the giant knight statues?"
"They are." I laugh. "They're not as fancy at the original ones, but will serve the purpose."
His amused smile slowly turns into a soft one, and he quietly looks at me before asking in a low voice: "Do you miss your home?" Now that I've been with him for some time and I've memorized every tint of his tired, hushed voice, I can sense that there's hidden sadness in his question, too.
"It's not that."
"You know, Weiss, that if you ever want to leave…" He begins.
"James." I call his name, and his starry eyes gaze upon me. "I don't want to leave. I simply thought that the Manor's main hall would be an interesting battlefield, nothing more." I assure with a gentle smile.
He holds his breath for four seconds – just as he does every time he's trying to regain the composure he thinks I didn't see him lose.
"Alright." He concedes. "But Weiss, I mean it: I don't want you to feel trapped here. If you ever w…"
"James." I repeat with a sharp tone, frowning.
"Okay, okay." He sighs, resigned, and shakes his head. "Take a position, then, and we shall begin."
I nod, and I leave the colonnade and go up the staircase – it's only when I reach the top that I turn around. I wrap Myrtenaster's handle with my fingers, and a shiver runs down my spine when I feel its cold touch against my skin. I unhook it from my belt and test its perfect swing once again. I love the sound it makes when it cuts the air. A brief smile lights up my face at the thought of the challenge that's about to begin.
"Don't hold back." I can't see him from up here, but I hear James' voice coming from where I left him: right next to the room screen.
"And you don't go easy on me." I respond with hardened voice, defiant.
I close my eyes and hold my breath, getting lost in the sound of Myrtenaster's spinning cylinder – when it clicks, I exhale slowly, feeling my lungs as they empty.
And I open my eyes again.
With an elegant swing of my rapier, an ice ray emerges from its blade and builds a wall that covers the colonnade columns, leaving James shut inside. There's absolute silence for a couple of seconds, and I smile, satisfied, only to be surprised by a banging noise, followed by a loud crack – the deafening sound of the ice barrier when it crashes under the punch of James' metal arm echoes all over the training room. He steps into the hallway, holding one of his guns on his left hand.
"Trust me, Miss Schnee; I won't."
As he raises his arm, I raise an eyebrow – a quick, hard-light barrier stops his bullets so easily that it's almost insulting. Nonetheless, he keeps firing – even when he pulls his other gun out and aims at the floor. What is he doing? He pulls the trigger and, before my astonished eyes, he's all of a sudden flying over my head, still shooting at me with his white gun and forcing me to keep my barrier up.
Gravity Dust.
That was a smart move, James.
He lands at the top of the staircase right behind my back, but I turn around just in time to stop his metal arm punch with Myrtenaster. Its blade never bends, but I do – the strength of the blow makes me lose my balance, and he takes that chance to kick me in the stomach and send me rolling down the stairs.
Ouch.
I get up from the floor – I accidentally bit my lip when I was falling and it's bleeding now, so I clean it with the back of my hand. It is only now that I regret the lack of training these couple of months I've spent here.
"Be careful what you wish for." He says, as he starts walking down the stairs with his white gun pointed at me. When he's halfway down he starts shooting again, but I can dodge his bullets easily right before making a thin ice layer appear under his feet. He slips when he steps on it and rolls down the stairs, too – it gives me enough time to cast an ice pool between us and make it sublimate with a fire wave. A dense vapor cloud fills the room, and I know he can't see me anymore.
I can't see him either, but I know where he is – in the vapor mist, I spot the blue led on his chest shining through his white clothes. I can't move or else the sound of my steps will let him know where I am; but what if I do it so quickly that my feet don't touch the floor? Six white glyphs surround him and one appears behind me; the latter is the one that gives me the initial impulse and before he can react, I'm jumping from one glyph to another striking him with my rapier. James grunts when his flesh starts bleeding and stains his white, ripped uniform with dark red; he tries to grab me, but I move way too quickly for him to do it – at least until he simply extends his right arm and I, in the middle of a jump and unable to stop due to my momentum, crash into it at full speed. The hit leaves me breathless and makes me fall on my knees. He tries to kick me once again, but I freeze his feet to the ground and jump away from him. He frowns, incapable of moving.
"You know, General Ironwood…" I say with a smile as I try to catch my breath. "I expected better from the head of the military."
James snorts a laugh and breaks the ice with a gunshot; then, he starts running towards me. I use my red Dust to throw fire projectiles in his direction only for him to stop them with his prosthetic arm – the one that doesn't feel pain – as he keeps moving forward. His right sleeve is on fire, and I can now see the metal underneath his burnt clothes, gleaming under the flame – he puts it out with a shake of his hand before finally making it to my side. A punch is thrown right at my face, but I avoid it with grace just as I do with the next one. As we dance without music a deadly waltz of blades and fists, our eyes meet for a brief instant – mine, glowing in defiance; his, shiny tempered steel.
It astounds me how fiery of a fighter he is – how physical, even though he has two guns. I never imagined him, as calm and tender and quiet and gentle as he always is, to have this passion, this ferocity when it comes to a fight. I hear him grunting in effort whenever the throws a blow, and it gives me goosebumps – I can feel my heart beating hard against my chest, but I can't tell if it's it due to the pumping adrenaline because of the battle, or if it's something more.
Lost in my thoughts I let my guard down – that's when his fist lands upon my stomach once again, and the force of the impact throws me through the air until my back hits one of the colonnade's columns, and I fall to the floor. My aura flickers, almost out but not completely broken. From here, I can see how James' body language changes. His shoulders lower, and he lets a subtle sigh out as he looks at his bleeding arm. His soothing voice breaks the silence.
"It's over."
He starts walking towards me, but I raise my left arm with the palm extended, and he stops halfway and stays still.
"It's not." I declare.
"Are you sure?" He asks, concerned.
All I do in response is nail my weapon to the ground and hold onto it as I get up from the floor. I recompose myself as much as I can and grab Myrtenaster's handle with all the remaining strength in me.
"Alright." He says, shaking his head. He runs in my direction for what shall be the last time, but a wind cone coming out of my rapier slows his movements down. He aims at the floor with his gravity Dust gun and fires, but once he's out of my wind attack and over my head, I cast a field of icicles on the floor. When he reaches the zenith of his trajectory, a sided, subtle smile makes my eyes sparkle for a second.
I got you.
Myrtenaster's cylinder rotates once again and loads purple dust into its blade. A black glyph appears over James' head, and with a shake of my arm a gravity blow stops James' natural trajectory and sends him straight to the floor, making him crash into the icicle field. Another black glyph is casted on one of his sides, and this time the force of gravity sends him flying through the air and smashes him against one of the columns that emulate the Schnee Manor's statues. His aura – the same blue color as his eyes – breaks and vanishes. I cast one last glyph behind my back that gives me the impulse I needed to quickly make it to his side, and with a twist of my wrist -
My pointy rapier's blade, gently held against his chin.
His white gun within his trembling hand, aimed at my head.
We stay like for a while, gazing into each other's eyes, with the only sound of our heavy breaths and our fast heartbeats filling the air. I can see a pumping vein in his neck due to the adrenaline; I can see how his collarbone bleeds, too, just like his arm does; and I can see how his lips tremble the same way they did in the fitting room. I feel a lump in my throat, and the sudden urge to run straight into his arms and kiss him squeezes my chest and burns my very core.
James smiles, completely unaware to the storm that's raging inside me, throws his gun at the floor, and raises both arms in surrender.
"I guess we can call it a draw."
"I…" I mumble, struggling to put more than two words together. "I…"
Gods, I want you so bad.
"What are you doing?" A loud voice – Winter's voice breaks into the room, startling me and making me cut James' neck just a bit. He frowns in pain, but he doesn't make a sound.
"Hi, Winter." I respond, turning around and hooking Myrtenaster back to my belt. "We were…" I murmur.
"Hello, Winter." James says, stepping in and interceding for me. He places his metal hand on my shoulder, and I calm down a little. "We figured we could warmup just a little before you came."
"Just a – just a little!?" Winter asks. "You're bleeding, General!"
"This?" James looks at his arm soaked in blood. "This is nothing – not more than superficial scratches."
"Not more than… Oh, Gods." She rolls her eyes, and clears her throat to recompose herself. "Sir, I would recommend you go cure your wounds."
"I'm fine, Winter."
"With all due respect, sir, I'm afraid I must insist."
James slightly leans his head to a side, but he finally gives up.
"Alright." He concedes with a sigh. "I'll be back in no time."
And he leaves for the upper room.
"And you?" Winter asks, frowning.
"I'm alright."
"No, you're not." She says with a harsh tone of voice. "How are you supposed to train your summons in this state? Do you know how much work I had to get done in advance only to have two spare hours with you? What were you thinking, Weiss?"
"I'm sorry, Winter. I…"
She clicks her tongue and shakes her head in disappointment.
"If I return to the military now, I'll still be able to come back tomorrow. I'll meet you here at sunrise." She determines before turning his back on me and leaving me all alone in the fake simulation of the Schnee Manor's hall.