A/N

Just finished reading Holly Jackson's book A Good Girl's Guide to Murder. It might be the most fun YA mystery book I've read. I've always sort of wanted to write my own mystery thing—like, say, Ruby as a detective, or something—but I don't know. I'm still trying to finish this new Whiterose story. My aim is for it to be 20k words long, but it's been 2 weeks, and I have not finished it. It's sort of stressing me out.

CHAPTER 11

In a flash, her exhaustion disappears. One moment, she's a couple of feet away, bleary-eyed and thoughtless. The next, someone's keeping her from obliterating Shadow, from protecting Ruby. They're holding her arms back with a vice-like grip, and shouting something in her ear. "Yang! Yang! You need to stop!"

It's Ruby. Ruby's keeping her from doing what she's done.

Yang stops, less out of defeat and more out of confusion. "Ruby, what the hell?!"

Shadow, a safe distance apart, pales. She looks back and forth between Yang and Ruby, who's still holding her. "Ruby?" She asks in a breathy whisper. "As in the—"

"HONESTLY, YANG!" Ruby pushes her away, sending her to Shadow's right. "WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?!"

Yang's about to yell back, then she sees how much Ruby's blinking, and how wobbly her voice is. "I—" she starts, uncertain. "She was going to hurt you."

Ruby goes rigid. "Hurt me?" She takes a sharp inhale, and the act looks like it causes her psychical pain. "She was helping me pick up my books. She was the only one willing to talk to me. Probably because she didn't know I'm your sister. Until now."

Yang flinches. She expects—no, wants—Ruby to push her again, or to shove her as she walks past, but no. Ruby stops to get her books back from Shadow, then leaves with no more words.

The fluorescent lights flicker and hum.

Yang bangs her skull against the locker, expecting—no, wanting—Shadow to leave. She doesn't. Of course she doesn't. Since when is Yang's luck beautiful, after all? Instead, Shadow stands there with that blank face and those piercing eyes. "Haven't you gawked at me enough?" Yang asks, hating how weak she sounds. Still, Shadow doesn't leave, so Yang looks back at her with a glare. "Why don't you just kill me already? We both know I will never break."

Yes, she is broken down, and yes, she is suffering in too many ways, but no, she will never betray her kingdom. She will never hurt Ruby. Well, not on Remnant, at least.

Shadow's throat bobs. "This may not be a good time—"

"It really fucking isn't."

Yang savors the displeasure in Shadow's face. Lips pursing, she says, "The project, Dragonheart."

The project. The damn school project. Yang snorts. "What makes you think something as silly as the project would be on my mind right now, doll face?"

"You should at least—"

BANG! Shadow's back says, hitting the steel locker. "Do not dare tell me what I should or should not do."

Shadow stares back with a quiet ferociousness. "I will not let you be the cause of my getting expelled."

Yang bares her teeth, Shadow's breaths grazing against her cheek. "Ah, yes. You'd only let me be the cause of your newfound fame, right, general?"

Pinned against the wall, without her swords in the nearby vicinity, Shadow almost looks like the high school student she pretends to be. Almond-shaped eyes. Smooth jaw. Round chin. Yang can see herself getting along with someone like her. Maybe, in another life, she does get along with her. She'd tease Shadow. Flirt with her. Coerce her into skipping school. All the fun shit. They'd be good friends.

But not here. Not in these lives.

"You're not going to hurt me," Shadow says.

Yang's eye twitches. She may be tired, but she's a soldier, so she can't miss the people at the corner of the hallway, watching them and expecting another fight. Shadow doesn't even look smug; she calmly stares, her face a blank.

One pull, and one slam. That's all it would take. Two moves, performed by one arm. It's as simple as that.

Yang lets go. "Not in this life, no," she says, then trudges back to the direction of the infirmary for a much-needed rest.

"You still haven't told me when we're going to work on the project."

Gracefully and maturely and without looking back, Yang flips her off.

#

For someone so quiet, Shadow sure can nag.

It's a complete 180. Before, she wouldn't even look at Yang, but now, she keeps asking Yang about their project. Again and again and again. Yang refuses to give her an answer out of pure spite. Shadow's stubbornness is persistent, though. Even on Remnant, as Yang suffers through dehydration and malnutrition, Shadow has the galls to bring the subject up.

It makes Yang glad whenever her friend is there instead. Sure, she hates Yang, but she's so open about it. It's refreshing, especially after Shadow's weird "I'm secretly trying to help you" act that she doesn't buy.

At one point, the girl said, "The only reason why I haven't chopped off your fingers yet is because my general sees something in you."

See? Simple! If you hate someone, hate them! If you don't, don't! There should be no lines in-between. Take a stance. You can't have it both ways.

After nagging, nagging, and more nagging, Yang gives. "Alright, fine! We'll do the stupid project today!" Shadow stops as students roam around them. "We'll do it today," she says again, rubbing her face.

"Your place or mine?"

"Yours," Yang says, because letting her enemy into her lair is a move as stupid as going into a fight blindfolded.

Shadow seems to think so too, lips thinning, but she sighs, knowing beggars can't be choosers. "Alright, then."

After school, Yang finds Ruby talking with Ren and Nora. Ruby's frowning, her hands in her hoodie, whilst Ren and Nora look like they don't know what they're doing. "Hey, Rubes," Yang says, all-too-jovially. "Ready head home?"

Ruby's shoulders stiffen, her jaw tightening. A spike of anger rises in Yang, then fades in a heartbeat. She has every right to be angry with you.

Nora gives Ruby a hug, murmuring something into her ear. Ren nods at Yang, muttering "you've got this" before leaving. Nora gives her a meaningful nod before doing the same.

Let their luck be beautiful.

"Hey," Yang says, stopping an inch short from reaching out to her.

"Hi." Pause. "We should get going."

"Right." Another pause. "Let's go, then."

Even with a cheerful song on the radio, the atmosphere remains thick. Yang comes up with dozens of conversation starters, but all of them either sound too cheery, too cheesy, or too strange. They make their way home, with Yang stopping on their street instead of pulling into the garage.

"I'm going over to—" Shadow's "—Blake's house. To work on this project Goodwitch gave us."

"Okay," Ruby says, unbuckling the seatbelt and opening the car door.

"Rubes, wait," Yang says, gripping the steering wheel too hard. Ruby, already standing up with her hand on the outer handle, blinks. "Was it true? What you said—well, you didn't say it, but…" Ruby's face turns sour, and Yang swallows. "Do people avoid you because of…"

Because of me?

Ruby's face falls. "No, Yang, it—" She rubs her face. "Look, it was nothing, okay? I didn't mean what I said."

"It sure sounded like you did."

"What does it matter, anyway?" Ruby looks away, frowning. "It's not like things are gonna change."

Before Yang can say anything, she closes the door and goes home. Which is a good thing. Because Yang doesn't know how to answer her.

"Fuck me," she says, resting her head against the steering wheel and closing her eyes. For a moment, she travels to that void again, then smells her own dried blood as her skin grazes against stone. She awakens with a gasp, hitting herself against the headrest. "No. Not yet."

She makes a quick stop to the convenience store, buying herself a can of Redbull, then drinking it on the way to Shadow's place. Once she's there, the can is empty, placed on the cupholder alongside receipts and parking tickets and coins.

Shadow's house is a mansion. Well, not really, but it may as well be. Yang's known this since the whole "chair-throwing" fiasco. It's only logical. After all, Shadow is her sworn enemy. She should know everything there is to know about her.

Shadow expects this of her too. It's why she never bothered giving Yang her address. Only the best quality nemesis for Menagerie's new general, Yang thinks, walking into the porch.

The door opens to reveal Shadow in her house wear, which is an even stranger sight than seeing her in her school wear.

"Is that—are you wearing a kimono?"

"Come in," Shadow says, in lieu of answering.

Her house has a floor-to-ceiling window. And pillars. And platforms that ascend and descend. And a garden. It's so castle-like. Yang would know.

Yang expects Shadow's room to be either A) a fake room, consisting of what Shadow wants people to think her to be, full of things a normal introverted teenager would have, or B) a literal trap, meant to knock her unconscious so Shadow could kill her, because they are enemies.

It's neither of those things.

Shadow's room is barely a room.

"You haven't unpacked?"

"I've been busy."

"With what, torturing me?" Yang gives her an emphatic look. "Yeah. Must be super exhausting."

Her look lasts for three seconds before she walks inside without waiting for Shadow's permission. Behind her, Shadow huffs a breath, but keeps quiet. Good. Yang entertains the idea of opening every box and drawer to get useful information for her kingdom. But no. As if Shadow would keep any of the important stuff within Yang's reach.

Knowing her, it must be locked away in a treasure chest and buried deep within her garden. With a ten-number lock.

Still, though. Snooping in would piss her off, so Yang grabs one of the wrapped boxes, rips the tape apart, then peeks inside. Books. Not even ones for school; fiction books. Shadow's got a hobby.

It weirds her out to know that.

Shadow's a Menagerian, ergo, she's evil. But evil people do not read works by John Green nor Rainbow Rowell.

Wake up, you idiot. This is a trick. Shadow knew she was coming. She'd had loads of time to prepare. Every item within this room is placed to make her think Shadow is a teenager like her, so Yang would lower her guards and give her the info she needed.

Turns out, it is option A all along.

"Have you finished?" Shadow asks, crossing her arms and leaning against the doorframe. Her Remnant accent is thick now that it's the two of them. "Or would you like more time to invade my privacy?"

"Tryin' to make us even, is all," Yang answers, making her Earth accent extra Earthly.

Shadow rolls her eyes. Good. If she gets to keep Yang prisoner in another life, the least she could do is be utterly exhausted by Yang in this one.

Yang flops over on her bed, savouring how fluffy it is. It's as good as her bed back in Remnant. "So," she says, placing her shoes-wearing feet on Shadow's pillow, "how are we gonna do this?"

For ten whole seconds, Shadow glares at her. Then, stiffly, she retrieves a notebook from her jacket, flips over the pages, then reads aloud. "Our task is to write about history, and our opinions of them." She taps the dull edge of her pen against the paper. "It's not really that hard of an assignment, if I'm being honest."

"Sure. Whatever."

"Which means you have to write about a personal experience of yours. One that shapes who you are today," Shadow says with a pointed look. Yang wants to make it more difficult for her. She really does. But she's tired. She doesn't want to be here. She wants to go home so she can wallow in her misery. "How about you read my entry, as an inspiration?"

She grabs a piece of paper from her drawer, then gives it to Yang, alongside her own paper. Shadow's entry is about her and her father, and how they went fishing. Yang notes, with some amusement, that though it's written in English, Shadow couldn't help keep away the Remnantness from it. Remnant and Earth do have the same language—different accents and idioms, but more or less the same. Their alphabets, however, are drastically different. A total 180.

It can be hard, switching from one alphabet to another. Yang's always preferred Earth's alphabet. It's got less dots and curly stuff.

Shadow, apparently, prefers Remnant's alphabet instead, which is why her handwriting looks odd. Too flowery. Too complicated. She scratches some words out when they turn back to Remnant's alphabet.

This could be a trap, Yang thinks, but she doesn't believe it. Not anymore. Hell, she barely believes Shadow's setting up any kind of trap at all. Or maybe that's what she wants you to believe.

Yeah, she gets the jist; wait until the enemy's guards are lowered, then strike. Only, she's given Shadow many opportunities to attack. And Shadow never did.

Quit thinking, Yang.

Yang begins to read Shadow's entry. "That was the day my father told me of the importance of patience," it says. "He told me of me something along the lines of…" Yadah-yadah, wisdom. Blah-blah, knowledge.

Yang gives the paper back to Shadow. "Make something up, then."

Shadow frowns. "It says—"

"There's no way all of that was real," Yang says. "Not with me being your team partner."

Shadow averts her gaze, not denying it. Yang's not sure she'd write something truthful even if she were with someone else.

She walks to her desk, then uncaps her pen and writes—the scratching noise aggressive. Yang readjusts her position on Shadow's bed, looking around. Unless Shadow's gone so far as to use the guest room as her fake room, this is hers. Not too shabby. The ceiling is tall, making everything spacey. Even with everything unpacked—or, more realistically, packed back for manipulative reasons Yang's too kind-hearted to understand—this room looks awesome.

"In this story of yours," Shadow says, "do I have permission to use your sis—"

"Nope."

"Alright," she says, graceful. "How about your par—"

"Nope." Is this another trick question? Doesn't Shadow know her parents are gone in this lifetime? "You can use my uncle Qrow, though."

Shadow nods, then returns her attention back on the paper, no longer asking questions.

After six minutes of silence, in which Yang briefly nods off, it's Yang who asks a question instead. "Why don't you just let me die?" The scratching sound stops. Yang can't see her expression from this angle, but Shadow's spine is straight. "The only reason you Menagerians are keeping me around is because you want information out of me. But I'm not gonna give any of it to you."

She'd say that everyone loves to torture her, but that's not the case anymore. At this point, everyone seems bored out of their mind. Even that friend of Blake's has given up on threatening to take away Yang's fingers.

They're not using her as ransom, either. If so, then she'd be back with her family already. Or she'd be dead already. Depending on what the Menangerians want in return.

"It's weird, really," Yang says, "because the only reason I could think of why—"

She halts at the look of Shadow's face. There's no longer a neutrality to it, a lack of expression that keeps her enemies from guessing her strategy. No, no. Shadow looks scared. Scared for her.

Oh, she thinks, as realisation dawns.

"I am getting executed, aren't I?"

Shadow nods.

"When?"

Shadow averts her eyes.

"When?" Yang presses.

Shadow takes a deep breath, then meets Yang's eyes. "Tomorrow afternoon."

A/N

Is... this a good enough cliffhanger for you all?