It was more than another year before he received his answer.
The world was brave and new and yet nothing interesting still ever happened in rural Mistral. The world needed wheat and corn and livestock the same as it always had, and the cycle of seasons continued their relentless march, unaware that anything had changed. Oscar did his part to reap, and sow, and he gazed at the moon at night, and thought of her.
And then one day, she appeared.
He was hauling hay out to the truck, one bale slung over his shoulder, scratchy strands tickling at his ear, when a soft voice he couldn't have forgotten if he tried called his name.
She stood at the end of the gravel road that lead towards town, in that familiar red cape, clutching a well-worn pack in nervous hands. The eyes that met his were just as silver as he remembered, and filled with a mix of joy and sorrow and trepidation. As if… she was worried he didn't want her there. Like her memory hadn't been haunting him for the past three years.
He stared for a long moment, took a step, remembered to drop the hay bale. And ran for her.
She met him halfway and they came together in a bone-crushing hug. He'd remembered her eyes, her cape, her voice, and yet he'd somehow forgotten how strong she was.
"You're alive," he said breathlessly.
"You're taller," she replied, and laughed, and it was the most glorious sound he'd heard in years.
It had taken her visiting 37 different towns, showing his picture to anyone who would listen, to finally find the exact part of Mistral he was from. He never had told them the name of the nearest settlement.
"You're not mad, are you?" she said that night after dinner, laying flat on her back on the barn roof beside him, staring at the sky.
His aunt had insisted that Ruby stay for dinner moments after meeting her, of course, which then evolved into Ruby staying in the spare room, once she realized how far her nephew's little guest had come. Ember Pine was a firm adherent of the legendary southern Mistrali hospitality.
"Mad?"
"That I found you." He watched her brow furrow, her gaze fixed on the sky. Her voice grew quiet. "Wasn't sure if you wanted to be, after… everything. Wasn't sure if you hated us. For not protecting you."
He wanted to reach into the space between them and take her hand, but instead he sighed. "I was never angry. Just… tired."
She was quiet for a long time, staring up at the moon, and for a moment he wondered if she'd gazed at it every night too, asked it questions, just like he had.
"I never blamed any of you," he continued. "I want you to know that."
She turned her face to him, and the bittersweet smile she gave him threatened to steal his breath away. He swallowed, hard, struggled to find something else to say. "…So. Tell me everything. What has everyone been up to?"
She'd talked over dinner about the rebuilding efforts, about logistics and alliances. But he wanted to know more about the friends he'd left behind, about their triumphs and losses, about her.
So she told him about Yang's newest motorcycle, Blake's work with the new White Fang, Weiss' charity album going platinum, about the hijinks at the Arc family reunion where three of Jaune's nieces discovered their Semblances at once and nearly destroyed the rental facility.
He laughed, but regret burned like a coal in the pit of his stomach. He wished he'd been there. They were all moving forward in their lives and suddenly he felt… stuck. Stagnant.
"Oh! Geez! I almost forgot the reason I came in the first place." She sat up, dug around in a pouch on her belt, pulled out a slightly dented envelope. "Ren and Nora wanted me to give you this in person."
The paper inside was crumpled, but he could read the invitation well enough even in the moonlight.
You are cordially invited to witness the union…
It was handwritten in looping gold calligraphy, and he wondered if Ren had written this himself, if he'd thought of him. He wondered what Ren thought of him.
"They said they'd understand if you, y'know. Aren't ready to see anyone. But… they want you to know that you're very much welcome to come…" She trailed off, unsure if she was asking too much, too soon.
He regarded the wedding invitation for a long time, feeling a strange mix of warmth and uncertainty. He was happy for them, genuinely. But… was he ready to see all of them? At once? The thought was overwhelming. He was still processing having her here.
And… was delivering this… the only reason she came?
"I'm… glad they finally found their happiness together," he said, when the silence seemed unbearable. "And your sister and Blake, too."
He paused, suddenly afraid. "And… how about you? Did you ever find anyone?"
What am I doing? Why am I asking this? He wasn't even sure he wanted to hear the answer.
"There… was someone."
His heart dropped.
She gazed out over the farm, her voice quiet. "He was brave, and sweet, and clever. I thought… maybe someday we'd… but it… didn't work out. I lost my chance, I guess."
There was a sadness, almost a reverence to her tone that made his heart twist.
"I know he had his reasons for going. But I still think of him a lot, wonder how he's doing. Wonder if he ever thinks of me."
This… now this was a new kind of torture. To hear her talk about some guy that she'd loved and lost… but it wasn't like he had any right to lay claim to her heart. He'd been a kid, they'd been at war, and all he'd done was long for her from afar. Not to mention the part where he'd been possessed by her old principal...
Even still, it hurt. But he was her friend, wasn't he? Didn't matter if he was a few years out of practice at it. Wasn't he meant to offer her some sage advice in this situation?
The Ruby he remembered wouldn't sit around lamenting, when she could be setting out and fixing a problem. What was she doing, searching across Mistral and handing him invitations for weddings when there was some wonderful guy out there for her to find?
"Well. Then it sounds, to me, like you're wasting your time here," he said, trying his best not to sound bitter, but the words came out harsher than intended, almost sarcastic.
She gave him a look he didn't expect, shocked and crestfallen, like he'd chastised her instead of giving her sound dating advice.
He couldn't do this, he decided. The knife in his heart was twisting, and he had no one to blame but himself.
"Y'know, I'm kinda tired. Think I'll head to bed." He made a show of stretching and yawning, and headed towards the hatch that led down below. It was abrupt, but he needed to get out of here before he said something truly stupid.
If I hadn't left, maybe that could have been me.
He was halfway down the ladder when a cloud of petals swirled past him and back into the house.
Looks like I failed at Mistrali hospitality, he thought as he lay in bed, unable to sleep. He couldn't get that last look Ruby had given him out of his mind. She'd looked so… hurt.
He tossed and turned, kicked the blankets off, put them back on. Nothing helped.
He hadn't meant to be so flippant with her. But even now, the jealousy curled in his chest like a fresh wound, deeper than any Salem had inflicted.
How was he supposed to handle it when the girl of his dreams, hero of Remnant, waltzed back into his life and told him of some other boy who she clearly still loved? It was selfish, and juvenile, but he didn't want to hear it, couldn't bear to.
And what kind of fool was this guy, anyways? Who could possibly meet Ruby Rose and think, 'oh, never mind?' and just leave…
Wait.
He sat bolt upright in bed.
"I think…" he said out loud to his empty bedroom, "that I might be an idiot."
When he knocked on the bedroom door, there was no answer at first. For a moment, he was afraid that she might have simply left, even if it was the middle of the night.
But finally the door opened and she stood there, looking for all the world like a deer about to bolt. Her eyes looked slightly puffy.
"Earlier," he said, cautiously, "that boy. Did you mean… me?"
Eyes wide, she nodded wordlessly.
A thousand thoughts jumbled in his mind, a thousand phrases that he couldn't fit on his tongue all at once. How to tell her that he'd loved her since the day he met her, that not a day had gone by that he hadn't thought of her, that every flash of red out of the corner of his eye made his heart stop?
So instead he took a step into the room, took her face in his hands, and kissed her.
It was long, and slow, and achingly thorough. Ruby only reeled for a moment before her arms wrapped around his neck, urging him closer, locking his mouth more firmly against her own, and it was like lightning in his veins to touch her.
He wouldn't pretend he hadn't dreamed of this moment, of their lips coming together, of tangling his fingers in her hair. But even his fondest daydreams couldn't live up to this reality, the warmth of her, the knowledge that she felt the same for him, that she'd missed him just as he'd missed her.
When they finally pulled apart, breathless and flushed, he pressed his forehead to hers.
"I'm so sorry, I didn't… look, the truth is, I'm a moron."
"No, I'm sorry… I should have just said what I meant, I thought you understood…" She glanced at the bed, where her bag sat, packed and ready to go. "I thought you were rejecting me," she whispered miserably.
"Never," he said firmly, and wrapped her tightly against him. "Never."
The door swung closed behind him.
They talked late into the night about secret crushes, about longing and heartbreak, and then, about guilt, about healing, about forgiving one's self. At last, as dawn began to break, they fell asleep in each other's arms.
And when he woke again, he felt reborn. He started packing. He had a wedding to go to, but first, he had a new world to see.
It was three years, 2 months, and 11 days after he returned, when he finally felt he had come home again.
Home wore a red cloak and her eyes shone like moonlight, and she took his hand and squeezed it.
"Are you sure?" she asked softly, standing at the worn wooden gate, beyond which lay an unseen future, terrifying and exhilarating all at once.
"Yeah," he said. "I think I'm… ready."
Ruby used Indirect Confession! It missed!
Oscar used Sitcom-Level-Misunderstanding! It was a critical hit!