AYangThang: See you Next Monday.

Chapter 12 Yatsuhashi: The Humble Soul

"I just don't think it's a good idea." He heard Blake Belladonna voice sadly out in the living room. "I'm not good with kids, Yang. I never have been, and I probably never will be."

"You'll be fine." Yang chuckled in that soft way that he was so fond of. It caressed his ears gently, and he sure that out in the living room it had felt the same for Blake.

"Will I? Will Weiss? I think I'm actually getting in over my head, here." Blake muttered dubiously, he could catch the fleeting shake of her voice. Uneasy, and coiled tightly. "I'm a complete and total disaster waiting to happen when it comes to this kind of thing."

"But it's what you want, right?"

"Yes, but-"

"Nope!" Yang seemed to bowl over Blake's fears over. "No if's, and's, or but's about any of this. You wanted a chance, you got one. Don't waste it just because you're a little paranoid that something's going to mess up and go wrong."

"I just don't want anyone to get hurt."

Yatsuhashi pulls in a breath, the drawing in front of him completely forgotten as he looks back towards his door, opened only a crack. A sliver of light coming though.

"Hurt happens, get used to it. You think my dad wasn't a shit show too?" He hears the honesty in Yang's voice. A gentleness beneath the harsh criticism of the man who raised her. "Looking back, he was a total idiot sometimes. It didn't matter though. He did the best he could, and I have to respect that. He gave Ruby and I a good childhood, all things considered."

"He was your dad, Yang. I'm different, an outside her. She doesn't need me. Neither of them do, not really."

"Well, that's subjective as hell." In that, he found himself smirking. Trust his wife to cut to the core of a problem like a battering ram. Delicacy forgone entirely. He listened to her sigh, a fondness for her teammate coloring the statement that followed it. "If you want to be part of her life, then just be part of it. If you don't, then don't. Whatever you decide to do though, don't start this wishy-washy bullshit only to fuck off later. No kid needs that kind of shitty platitude, and frankly, Weiss doesn't need it either."

"Yeah, I know." Blake grumbles under her breath. "Don't remind me. I keep myself up half of the night just thinking about that."

From the confines of his office he sets his pencil down, sighing as he comes to his own conclusion on the subject. There are many dilemmas among the people in his life, many that he can't do anything about. More often than not, he has no insight to give, and no helpful alternative to offer. However, in this delicate matter, he feels an ounce of insight.

Decision made, he decides to interrupt the conversation taking place in the next room. He clears his throat as two sets of eyes fix onto him as he stands in the doorway. "You two are complicating a very simple matter." He states while rubbing his eyes. It ebbs away the near headache the two of them had given him. "In my old village, in order to raise a boy into a man, others with worldly experience must guide him. The boy learns that to become a master of anything, one must seek training to gain that mastery. Aren't women inside the kingdoms raised to think roughly the same way?"

"Well, yeah…" Yang deadpans, the confusion clear in her tone. "I mean, unless you're raised by a total asshole or something…"

"Then the answer is quite simple." He said, affixing Blake with a knowing look. "A little training is all you need. Approach this endeavor with the same resolve as you would an assigned mission. Gain the experience you obviously need in this area of your life using the same fortitude that has guided you thus far. For a huntress such as yourself, that should be easy enough."

Blake flinched, ears flattening back as she nodded. Perhaps it would not be so easy for her after all.

The next day promised to be a busy one.

He marched along the halls in the Schnee Dust Company building. His steps lingering a few paces behind Coco. That's how she liked it. He never thought to question Coco's demands. She never gave him a reason to think poorly of them. Even with all of her flaws, and her occasionally failed plans, she was worth following. There rested an honesty in her commands, easy to uphold simply because they were hers. Even laying the title of team leader behind didn't diminish the sort of person that Coco was.

To a fault, she would be the first to place herself in the line of danger. A true thread of dignity twined itself deeply into everything she did. She valued loyalty above honor. Coco spent years proving that honor itself was a vague nothingness without people to share it with.

Boyishly, he had found a cause in simply following her, doing as he was told. For reasons he couldn't completely understand, that alone was enough.

She had given him a place to belong. For Coco, it just seemed like the natural thing to do. It wasn't because of an imposed team assignment, or the Beacon Academy rules. Coco didn't play by the laws. She subverted them, following only what her heart told her to do. Everything else came with a brutal and critical eye for corruption. It's what made her one of the top team leaders within Beacon. A plaque of team CFVY would hang in the walls for generations to come. That was an accomplishment very few teams would ever have the privilege to brag about.

But, as cocky as Coco could be, she never said a word about it.

There were many things Coco never spoke about. Wordlessly taking pride in her accomplishments. Carrying a silent thankfulness for the people that surrounded her. She was a physical creature in many ways, both in happiness and in anger. She was as quick to give a slap on the behind for praise. She was also just as fast with a smack to the back of the head in admonishment. He'd felt both in passing over the years, always knowing exactly where he stood in Coco's mind.

For all of her complexity, her treatment of him had always been simple. He'd never had a single doubt, and within a world so devoid of faith, Coco had become a bedrock of comfort. He could believe in her, if little else.

During these meetings at the SDC, he never spoke unless he was addressed. Acting as the large and imposing bodyguard that he was expected to be. He stood outside the conference room for well over an hour. Never sitting, and never once allowing his expression to relax. Coco conducted her business quickly, a sure sign than Weiss had a busy day and could not entertain her friend. He heard the murmurs behind the thick oak door, the slight laughter and off-color jibe as Coco opened the door and exited the room.

She began to walk down the hall, again and he stepped into line at his usual pace. Idly, he wished all of the people in his life were as easy to comprehend. Alas, that was a luxury he would never have.

After a meeting at the Schnee Dust Company, Coco headed home. Her word demanding privacy.

He knew nothing of fashion, merely parroting what Coco told him to do. He had no concept of the industry, and frankly, he had no desire to learn it. That was Coco's mastery, and he was more than happy to let her have it. All he could do was follow along as he was told, wordlessly offering moral support when the complexities of the fashion industry became too much to bear.

"How's the artwork coming along? You'll have all of the pieces done by the night of the ball, won't you?" Coco asked him, her mind running over everything she would need to get done before the scheduled event took place. The mounting list seemed endless, and most of it would be up to fate. Completely out of her control. Now she needed to trust competent people to help see the rest through to the end. She could only hope that it would be enough.

"I believe so." He said, watching as the mug of coffee shook in Coco's hand. "I only need to have a few more pieces. Aside from the trip to Vale, I already have some ideas in mind."

"As long as they get done." She brought the coffee to her lip, wincing at the pain. Finally she sighed, setting the cup down. "I'm counting on you, big guy."

There were times he would doubt himself, but in this, he was sure. "I know. They will be done and prepared for sale by then. I promise."

"Alright." Coco said as she began to wrap a brace around her aching wrist. She was depriving herself of sleep, and sewing everything by hand was beginning to take its toll.

"You should take it easy." He murmured, frowning when he realized she wouldn't stop for a second.

"I don't have time." At this, she turned to Velvet. "Velvet, sort through your worktable. Find me suitable samples for Blake. Something that'll compliment her eyes."

"On it." the rabbit Faunus said, closing down her scroll to do as Coco had asked.

"The ratio should be ten percent dust to ninety percent Mistrali silk." Coco replied, tossing aside another sample of fabric as it fell to Yatsuhashi's feet. He sighed as he picked it back up, considering it.

"Is there something wrong with this one?" He asked confused.

"That's twenty percent red dust. It's just not going to work for Blake."

"What would happen work, then?" He asked in confusion. Lifting another piece. They all looked the same to him. Just squares of cloth that fueled Coco's ire.

"Not that." She said, taking the black swatch from his hand. "Black silk, twelve percent earth dust. That's for combat lining. It's not for a ball gown." Her worktable was littered with her usual choices, but nothing seemed to catch her eye. "It needs to pop, and stick out among everyone at this ball. Weiss isn't paying me to deliver complete garbage to Blake's front door."

"Wouldn't it be better to choose Atlesian silk, then?" Velvet asked, her own pile covering another worktable. "Something like this, maybe?"

Coco took one look at the pure white silk, the thin material was some of the most expensive to acquire. "Do I look like a sob to you?"

"Yes, but that's because you are a snob, at least when it comes to fabrics." Velvet said honestly with a small grin.

"Won't argue that, babe." Coco shrugged, tossing aside another. "Either way, something like that just doesn't suit Blake."

"Not to put too fine a point in the matter, but, I don't think anything will." Velvet sighed. "Nothing at your price point, anyway."

"Extravagance doesn't suit her, is that it?" Coco asked Velvet then, crossing her arms to regard the woman in front of her. "I might agree, but that's pretty damn moot at this point. She won't have a choice in the matter, not if she's hoping to actually get anywhere with Weiss. I'm going to have her dressed to the nines even if it kills me."

"Do you really think so little of them?" Velvet asked softly. "They're our friends, and besides that… we're hardly in a position to judge."

"I'm not judging anything, babe. I'm merely fulfilling a request from a buyer who just so happens to be a Schnee." Coco said as she placed her fabric aside, walking across the room to Velvet's table. "Weiss isn't so different from me. We have expectations, and they have to be met. There's no question about that. The Schnee family is incredibly prestigious. If Blake wants a piece of that, she's going to have to live the part. Besides, if I can get her gown just right, she'll be the talk of the ball, and it'll have nothing to do with her ears."

"What will it have to do with?" Velvet asked.

"Now don't you worry about that." She said, kissing Velvet on the cheek before. "You just find me a perfect combination Mistrali silk, and let me worry about the rest."

Yatsuhashi looked down at the white fabric laying on the edge of Velvet's table. It was true, the Schnee family were a household name. Few could consider Weiss a friend so easy because of her fame. The thought had boggled him, but, it had also given him an idea. One that he quickly wanted to enact.

He spent another afternoon with his sketchbook in hand. Today he inhabited a home that was not his own. He looked up from his artwork, blinking once more at delicate features of the woman he was drawing. She didn't seem to notice or mind what he was doing. The two of them sharing companionable silence.

Weiss sat hunched over a laundry basket, folding her daughter's clothes. They were fresh out of the dryer, warm and wafting with the smell of cotton. Yang was in the kitchen, Ada happily clinging onto the blonde's back as the two of them collected ingredients to make lunch. Yang had always been oddly domestic, maternal in all of the ways that captivated small children.

Yatsuhashi went back to his drawing. Going to work as soon as Weiss lifted out another small vest.

This one was black. A gift from Nolan from when he was deep in the heart of Vacuo. Most who traveled recognized the tourist trap for what it was. During long journeys it was a common stop. Yatsuhashi recalled the emblem well. He suspected Weiss did the same. It was one of the few places with real feather pillows and proper meal spreads. Her lips quirked at what seemed to be a memory, and Yatsuhashi paused his drawing. Waiting for Weiss to relax her expression into something neutral.

A clatter in the kitchen, and a burst of giggling later, whatever had been upended onto the floor seemed to be a non-issue. Still, Weiss let curiosity reign supreme. Laundry set aside, she headed for the kitchen where her daughter instantly demurred. Pink eyes gazing to her shyly, as if she might actually be in trouble. Yang was bent over, cleaning up the mess. Weiss could only roll her eyes as she returned to the Livingroom. Her own task couldn't be left incomplete.

"You aren't going to try to sell that sketch of yours, are you?" She asked as she resumed fishing out garments one by one.

"It would sell quickly at Coco's upcoming event." He said. "I would like to place it there."

"As flattered as I am that you think my image would sell at an Adel event, I doubt you'd have many buyers."

"Sketches are meant to capture moments in time." He said to her slowly, as if considering that truth once more for himself. "They attract a particular sort of person. The kind that tends to be interested in the little details that go unnoticed. This image would easily sell to a person like that."

"Yes, because folding laundry is suddenly so interesting…" Weiss noted with dark sarcasm. An ounce of bitterness coloring her words. "If anything, bluebloods will be amused only because I'll look matronly. Anyone too high in stature may actually be insulted than I'm doing a servant's work."

"I think people will find it interesting. You are an icon, and therefore it is collectible." He replied, setting down his pencil and holding the sketchbook out to her. "This entire book is of you."

Weiss frowned, finding the thought highly unsettling as she took the book from him and began at page one. "You've been drawing me for that long?" She asked, noticing that the first sketch was of a lunchroom table, Weiss and Ruby were seated at one side. Jaune and Pyrrha took residence on the other. The next page had to have been drawn that same year, probably during exams. Weiss sat side by side with her teammates, the only one still studying at the late hour. The rest of her team napping around the table. "This goes all the way back to my first year at Beacon."

"I used to draw whatever was in front of me at the time." Yatsuhashi explained, a distant fondness creeping into his voice. "It helped me come to terms with my choices in life. Many of them were not supported by my family. Drawing itself became an escape." Clearing his throat gently, he tossed the thought aside. "Your table was often across from ours, and within my direct line of sight."

There were many drawings, several were of her formative years within Beacon. Most were mundane snippets of her life. A morning cup of coffee, a jog on the treadmill, an image of her cleaning the dust residue out of her fingernails. Moments she often took for granted at the time. Her third year had only a few drawings, proof that Team CFVY rarely visited Beacon by that time. Her fourth year had only two. One in a hunter's lodge, and one on her graduation day.

The drawings tapered off after that. A single sketch here and there dotting her years on the road. Her appearance seemed rough, more unkempt. A sign of how harsh the paths outside of the kingdoms could be. Though she was happy, the jobs were hard too. Leaving ghosts and shadows in her smile. Failures themselves harder to let go of when lives were on the line. After her wedding day, the sketches began to cluster back up again. Several even managed to capture her pregnancy when she least expected it. Several taking place at public events. Others included her daughter as an infant.

"I suspect I'm not the only one you have a book dedicated to." She said with a voice thick with old memories. Deep down, she prayed that she wasn't some sort of enigma for the man in front of her. She didn't want to be anyone's fascination, most certainly not the man in front of her.

"Everyone of significance has a book or two." Yatsuhashi replied. "Some of those books have only a few pages filled. Then there are the books I travel with. Those do not contain a single category. They are somewhat personal."

"Will you sell the whole book?"

"No, it is mine." He said softly. "I've carefully protected it for years. I wouldn't offer it away now. However, with your permission, I was thinking to make a colored printout of this image. I would like to have you place an autograph on it. There are many collectors that would like a piece such as that. If not for themselves, then to pass along to others."

"I don't see any harm in it." She replied as she handed back the book. She had written her name across thousands of posters over the years when her father had forced her to sing. What was one more autograph for the masses? She was already a household name, and that wouldn't change. The best she could do was accept her fame. "Will you be placing images of other people to be sold off as well?"

"Most are of landscapes, Grimm, and villages." He listed slowly, ticking off the items on his fingers. "Those are the types that often sell to wealthy land owners. Most would never step foot outside of the kingdoms, but as you know, many with money speak as though they have."

"Well, it's rare to doubt a person of such high standing." Weiss said, though her lips had formed a curved edge. A mean sort of smile, almost a sneer. She knew the sort that Yatsuhashi spoke of. In her mind, it was the worst kind of person. The sort like her father, and others like him. Men and women who held lives in the palms of their hands. People who refused to accept the gravity of that prestigious responsibility. Even thinking about it made her sick. "Thankfully, no one dares to lie to me that way. I have no qualms explaining to them just how many ways they could die. I've seen plenty of them."

"A sentiment you share with Coco." Yatsuhashi said, having witnessed such lectures himself. "There will be a few other portraits, too. Most of them contain Coco in some capacity or another. I was trying to think of a way add a little variety."

"Hmm, if that's the case, you really should ask Winter to pose for a sketch." Weiss replied then. "Perhaps out of uniform. Standing side-by-side in the combat ring with Yang. It's such a rare sight outside of the military. A sketch like that would be sure to sell to a high bidder."

"I was unaware that it was such a rare sight to behold." He replied then, cocking his head curiously. "She stops by out of uniform very often."

"The upper class only murmurs about what Winter does in her free time. In order to see it, they'd actually have to share the same space as commoners. For most of them, even suggesting something so uncouth would be an insult. That's the catch. If they refuse to fraternize with the common people, they'd never have the opportunity to see Winter's hobbies for themselves. Having an artistic rendering would be very rare."

"It is something to consider then." He said, more to himself than to Weiss. His eyes catching Yang's as she walked into the room to offer a new distraction.

"Hey guys." She said with two plates in her hand. "Food's ready, come on."

They shared lunch and dinner together, which wasn't uncommon. The sideways glances from Weiss certainly were though.

Life on the road taught him how to read other people. Listening to older hunters and huntresses, he had found his own perspective about the world early. Love and loss were two lessons that stuck with him. The older folks who had no one to go home to, and the ones who did. They were both very similar. There was one commonality between every story. The hard work. The dedication. The devotion. Every successful love story held plenty of those things. Every failure seemed to lack them. Love made upon a bed of lies would not sustain. Love comprised for the sake of it, would be fated to weaken with every single setback.

It took a great deal more to keep love alive than anyone might expect. Despite that, it was also very simple.

He didn't miss the way that Weiss observed him and his wife. Blue eyes catching glimpses of a relationship that was so completely unique. Whatever similarities Weiss might relate to was lost to him. Just as the contours of his love for Yang were lost to Weiss. He thought for a moment it might be because he was a man, and she was a woman. That somehow, that obvious difference itself made her confusion what it was. He quickly tossed the consideration aside a moment later.

Whatever it was that sparked the curious glances, gender performance was most certainly not the cause.

After dinner, would lead to another clue.

"Yang tells me you'll be going to Vale soon." Weiss said to him, a steaming cup of tea firmly in hand.

"That is the plan." He confirmed in a soft tone. "Velvet intends to capture more photos before Coco's charity ball. It will be a short trip."

"I would imagine that Yang's going with you…"

He allowed a non-committal sound to ebb from his throat. Low and thoughtful. "I believe we will part ways once the plane lands. Velvet and I will collect what we need. Yang will take time for respite in Patch."

"To see Ruby and the baby no doubt." She said.

He nodded wordlessly.

"She does like to live vicariously." Weiss agreed, a fond sigh slipping from her lips. "I realize that I was expected to bear offspring the moment that I married, but, it surprises me to think that I've not yet heard an announcement about the two of you. I thought for sure that Yang would want to begin a family before Ruby. Now, it seems like only a matter of time."

The man raised an eyebrow, his own cup dwarfed by his large hands as he sipped from it. He thought on that statement, plucking it apart for what it was. He squinted up at the setting sun before returning his gaze to the snowman that Yang had promised to help Ada build. A calming breath through his nose, and he was no closer to discerning the way Weiss regarded him. He noticed her anxiety, her thoughtfulness. The way she seemed to scrutinize everything, as if comparing it to something else.

Inadequacy came to mind, and it resonated deeply within him. Seeing such a thing shadowed in her every expression, he found himself smiling gently.

"You and I are not too dissimilar. At least, not when it comes to the expectations laid down before us."

"We aren't?" She asked dryly. "You were a village boy, weren't you?"

"I was, but, my father was the headman." He told her.

"I see... That could prove to be a stressful upbringing, couldn't it?"

"Yes. My father still expects me to bear at least one son. The village I hail from is old. He is very set in his ways. In his mind, a daughter would never be able to carry the name. It must be a man." He said stiffly. "Yang, on the other hand, she's different. She doesn't have such responsibilities in her family. I do not think she cares much for the concept of bloodline. The ties she binds are different, drastically so."

"Her father is very progressive, I'll give him that." Weiss said with a laugh.

"That is not what I mean." The man beside her didn't quite share her humor. Instead, he was compelled to withdraw into retrospection. "Lineage is not a concept of genetics to Yang. Rather, they are the teachings left behind. Legacy holds a different power when placed within her hands. It is not traditional, and it has nothing to do with procreation."

"And what about you?" Weiss found herself asking curiously.

"I no longer live in my father's village." He said quietly, a tiny hint of shame coloring his words. "I am a disappointment to him, and I chose to be one. I let him down willingly. However, I think that in some ways, that it only proves his success in raising me. He instilled within me enough strength to forge my own path. I feel that gift alone is enough."

"I don't think it's enough at all." Weiss told him. "In fact, I think it's the very least he could do. If you couldn't stand on your own two feet, you'd be no better than a puppet. That would have made him worse than a failure."

"I wouldn't know. I'd like to think Yang's methods are better than my own." He murmured under his breath. It was with this that he turned to Weiss and carefully placed down his cup. He felt a drop of clarity in that moment. Feeling as though he understood Weiss Schnee just a fraction more than he had before. "I do not know if Yang and I will decide to leave behind a genetic legacy. What I do know is that even if we don't, it won't matter. Her influence will touch a great many souls as we live our lives. Perhaps that will be enough."

After a moment Weiss nodded her head, gazing across the snow covered yard to the snowman still being built. It was a memory that Ada wouldn't be likely to forget any time soon, which, Weiss supposed, was the entire point of building one in the first place. "You're probably right..."

He knew he was.

Yang could never have been the wrong choice.

There were few things he prided himself on, but his spouse was one of them. He never boasted upon the fact that he had a beautiful wife to call his own, but, he certainly wasn't quiet about that fact, either. Although he had always been reserved about it, Yang enjoyed hearing his praise. He thought highly of her, of course, and so there was plenty to speak about.

Yang was everything his father hated about women who traveled on the open road. She was loud and assertive, not meek and mild mannered. She was a huntsman's daughter, born to be an outsider. That she was also a huntress promised that she would lack all of the finer qualities that a poised village girl should have. He would never be able to bring Yang home to his old village. She would have hated it there, anyway. Somehow, he was alright with that.

Memories that were hard to suppress flourished in the depth of night. He recalled his days aiding in the fields as a young boy. Growing and training within the village guard as soon as he was able. Then, he left for higher education in the art of combat. His father had urged him to come home from Beacon. To find a bride, to build a home. At the time he was young, restlessness, unable to see the logic to his father's demands.

Now with a woman to warm his bed every night, he understood the simple pleasures that his father tried to speak of. The four walls around him would not be a home if Yang wasn't there to occupy it. Duty itself was a lonely thing. It could kill a man, or drive him to the brink of insanity. Solace was a fleeting gift, and he intended to grasp onto it every chance he could get.

A night between the sheets rounded off what he considered to be a typical day. The woman beside him was beautiful. Any heavy thoughts that he might have had melted beneath Yang's touch, and he allowed himself to enjoy her lazy after-sex affections. The blonde liked an active bedfellow, but, she enjoyed the long moments after even more. It was when their lovemaking began to dwindle into soft passing caresses, that Yang seemed the most radiant.

It was her easygoing smile and soft words that most called to him. Rousing him from the edges of dreamland to amuse her wandering hands with a mirrored expression of his own. Pushing her long blonde hair from her lilac eyes. Gently working out the wild mane and the tangles that would develop otherwise. He followed that sun colored silk down the slope of her cheek, along the nape of her neck. His trailed up the curve of her shoulder, and down along her side.

His fingers followed her wavy figure, mapping out the expanse of skin he knew so well.

Every faint scar was a sign of adventuresome life. Every blemish all the more breathtaking due to the story sure to be behind it. As his eyes grew heavier, he pulled her close. Taking the sound of a contented little hum of approval as it slipped from her lips.

That was the way he fell asleep.