PART 3 – Inhibitions

The Kirin Festival is older than Vale itself. No one knows why they wear fish-scale costumes or set fire to carefully carved wooden statues as they drift into the sea. Why they sing songs of a dead tongue, or why they make the drunk climb a soaked pyramid for honor and – with a touch of modernity – some prizes.

Its mysterious allure is what draws most people. It's the reason why Jaune decides to climb the pyramid himself. He fails miserably. Yang has to carry him off.

Jaune didn't get the memo that participants have to have spare clothes because of course they do, so he's sat drenched in the changing room by the beach, Yang outside with his drying clothes by a heater lamp set up for just this kind of occasion.

They're alone again and it's quiet outside of the distant hum of the festival.

"I called Dad this morning," she says suddenly, leaned beside the tent. "I could hear her in the background." And she goes on, laying out her fears, but during a long pause to process her thoughts a little more, she briefly worries if he's listening.

"Yang. I'm here. I'm listening," he says, clear in that way like a droplet in a cave. Echoing in her mind. Present in all the ways that do not judge.

Then she talks. Talks about her mother coming home. Dancing around her while she reconnects with her dad. Or maybe she's just sleeping with him, and her family isn't going to be whole again. At least, these are her more negative thoughts. She's only willing to forgive her mother from running away if her dad gives her a chance.

She might have earned it then. Might, she emphasizes for Jaune. Raven might well and truly never fit back into her life. Summer – bless her soul – reshaped the gap she left behind. So Yang doesn't know if Tai forgiving Raven might even be enough, but she's willing to hope.

-0-

Everyone gets into a few rides and eats their weight in sugar until they all end up at Junior's club again. Most of them are dancing, except for Ruby and Ren.

When Jaune and Yang dance a little too close to each other, they take a step away. When Sun and Pyrrha dance a little too close beside them, Yang decides to save them both the embarrassment by taking a break.

She doesn't see Jaune taking a swig of his flask. And he doesn't notice that the blush of his cheeks wasn't from the alcohol.

Yang comes back to the table just as Ren – under the influence of alcohol – confesses that Joan has been trying to court him.

Ren and Nora's relationship isn't official. It's tumultuous since she came back to Kuroyuri alone over the Summer to mourn her long lost brother. Ren couldn't bear to go with her. When she came back, they've been… uncertain. Awkward, even.

Joan adds to his confusion because she doesn't criticize his choices or cowardice, she just listens. (It's so eerily familiar that Yang shuts her eyes tight just to give herself time to swallow it). So Joan, in a stroke of luck, is there for him precisely when he needs someone who isn't Nora.

Yang doesn't believe he'll choose her over Nora. It's just a rough patch. As long as neither of them do anything stupid in the meantime, she tells them, then it'll turn up alright once they get their rhythm again.

Ren says nothing.

Ruby's concern in that lack of confidence is burning.

Ren, placating her, says that he's certain things will work out between them again but knows he can't trust his own emotions just yet. Nora mentioned the nuckleavee limping around in the woods (JNPR went there towards the end of freshmen year to kill it but only managed to cripple it as it retreated). He was so blindingly furious at the idea that the beast was still alive that his nails started crackling against his aura.

Calm as he was, Ren wasn't completely put together just yet. "Maybe we're too young to be in love anyway," he says.

"I don't think it's love's fault that it happens too early or too late," Yang says, eyes away. "I think it's our fault for acting when we shouldn't or not acting at all. Or Going too far or…" – she glances at the dance floor – "…not far enough."

Ren is smug when she looks back at them. Nothing is left of Ruby but a cascade of rose petals. Then she zips back to her with the same smug look and a neck of her strawberry sunshine. Little umbrella and all.

Yang admits that she was looking at Jaune, but not for the reasons they think.

Jaune wishes he did more with Pyrrha. Even if he's not hurting over it anymore, he's afraid of making any more mistakes like that.

"He was actually," Ren says. He explains that Jaune spent the Summer alone and he spent some time calling him at the bottom of a whiskey bottle. He confessed about his feelings going haywire and how he wishes he could be happy for the new couple but dangerous parts of his mind told him that he shouldn't have been so passive. Strangely, he was being cryptic and even mentioned a marriage, but that he mumbled that last bit and Ren just shrugged it off.

"That wasn't about Pyrrha, though," Yang says.

"…What?"

"Oh. Oh, shit. I shouldn't have said that." Despite hinting at Jaune's big secret, Yang is a little happy that there was something he was only willing to tell her and not anyone else.

Then the rest of them come back to the booth and Yang pulls Jaune aside before Ren and Ruby can say anything.

She asks him about Joan going after Ren.

He tells her that he knows, but that all his efforts to curb her have failed. She's adamant about pursuing him.

Yang decides to try it herself.

-0-

Everyone's on their way back to the festival when Yang realizes that it's going to be too loud to call. She tells them she'll catch up and sits by a bench in the park. The musty smell of the pond battles against the fresh scent of her still lingering strawberry sunrise.

Joan picks up rather quickly, the sound of her team's movie vanishing in the background. She mouths out apologies to them first before she shuts a window behind her (her dorm is on the ground floor and she slips out through the window as frequently as the door) then sound of crickets chirps through the speaker.

Yang cuts to the chase and mentions Ren.

Joan asks her if she was talking to Jaune. Joan sighs, but she's not dejected, just… amused.

"Jaune likes to forget that we're the same age. That I had a boyfriend before, too. He likes to protect me cause I'm his sister. But I'm as wise as he is… and just as naïve."

Joan lists off Jaune's advice to her.

It's just a phase.

It wouldn't work out.

You're aren't thinking this through.

He's already practically married.

Joan rejects them all.

"I can't help what I feel. I can't dance around love like I'm waiting for an opportunity to strike. We aren't struck by falling stars when the perfect partner comes along. We just find the best we can and make it work out. Maybe Ren isn't for me. Maybe what I have is fleeting and foolish and naïve and stupid. I don't care. I am done waiting for the world to give me the good news. This time around, I'm taking initiative."

They end the call soon after. Yang can't argue with her earnest pursuit if she isn't muscling into it and pushing Nora out of the picture. There was also that chip in her tone that sounded like she knew she was fighting a losing battle.

When Yang exits the park, she finds Jaune waiting by the gate. He stayed back for her.

Fireworks flash over the sky, color splashing over a dark canvas.

Yang only looks at Jaune. Maybe it's Joan being proactive that might have pushed her to stand a little closer. Her fingers twitch. She doesn't know what she wants, but thinks that maybe a little indulgence isn't so bad.

Then he looks at her. But not at her eyes. They're locked at her lips. Without thinking, he pulls out his flask. He takes a swig and tries to go ahead but she grabs him by the wrist.

Perhaps remembering what she did last time she grabbed his arm as he walked away, he covers his mouth with his arm.

She laughs at him. "I'm tired. The party's over. Let's just drop them a line and go home."

"Home…" he whispers before nodding.

-0-

They're sat at the couch because they're waiting on their scrolls. Ruby went missing but they were tasked with staying behind just in case Ruby stumbles into their apartment. Yang isn't too worried. Ruby probably saw Penny and was dragged off during the fireworks.

In the silence, Yang tells Jaune that they spent a lot of time today listening to her problems. Maybe they should talk about his again.

The offer is tempting but he isn't quite ready. He wants to take his mind off it but lately his usual substitutes have been less effective. (Spending time with Yang has been dangerously enticing, and he's starting to wonder if he watered down his whiskey a little too much tonight).

"How about a different substitute?"

She pushes off the couch and tells him to wait right there. He does get up to change his shirt but it's taking so long for Yang to come out that he's starting to worry.

He approaches her door.

She bursts out of it. "Sorry," she says. "It's the only white dress I have." She's wearing the same dress she had at the dance. "It's no wedding gown, but with this on, maybe you'll stop thinking about her."

The idea that he'll think about her instead eludes her for a second before they're both thinking about it and her smiles gets awkward. Worse when he won't say a thing and his eyes have been wide this entire time.

She powers through and plays a song on her scroll. "You said they played something by Ivy Garden at the reception. I'm guessing this is it?"

He nods along as guitar strings rattle off into the room, filling the gaps till the wallpaper turns marble, a band plays on the stage, lavender drapes fall over the frosted glass where moonlight shimmers faintly in the gaps. And she is there, skin a rich chocolate brown, eyes like polished hickory.

Then she takes a step in his direction and her hair is a rich blonde, and her skin is pale and… "Yang? You… You don't have to do this…"

"Hush. You won't talk, so let's not talk. Let's try something else here and see if this works for you."

It works. It works too well.

So they join hands and dance. It's slow and circular, around the center of the living room. She can't bring herself to look him in the eyes. Her head rests against his chest and that somehow makes it worse for him. Especially when she loops her hands around his neck.

He wants so much to ask for more, but can't. His hands are shaking when they're squeezing her hips gently. She notices and pulls her head against his Adam's apple. Her warmth pools over him like a scarf, curling him inwards till his eyes go hazy and his lips hover dangerously over her scalp.

The music stops. The world comes back together, to the present, to their apartment.

Yang hesitates to ask if it worked. When she pulls her head out of his chest, she's surprised to find him breathless. He slowly comes back to his senses.

He takes a step back and immediately reaches for his flask. He downs it but the buzz is missing still, even when he empties it down his throat.

His cheeks don't flare. His thoughts don't cloud. All he has is clarity and it gnaws at the desires within reach. At her.

He almost kisses her, lips quivering, fists balled as his flask clatters to the floor. He clearly isn't sure where to put himself, even if a deep part of him already knows.

Yang decides that she isn't the kind of girl that lets something like this slip by.

She is so warm that her lips feel like she's branding him when they kiss; clamping on the delicate flesh of his lower lip with a desperation he should have seen coming. She'd been holding back, and when he bit back, he knew he was too.

White noise filtered into her ears as she became painfully aware of her own heartbeat. It was erratic, beating off-rhythm and she knows she's afraid. He said he was against this before, and the fear that she might be making a mistake again makes her shudder.

But then she moans when he pulls her in and dips a few degrees till she's curling against him. And she realizes that he isn't pulling away. It beckons him like a siren song, plunging him through the haze of his mind – not knowing that he's already found her – to be captivated, taken completely as if drowning in her.

When he leaves her lips, he presses his forehead to hers. His breath tickles her nose. She edges into him again.

Her kiss, then, is featherlight. Brief and affectionate. She wills herself to pull away; lets him breathe and take it in.

"I don't think this is love," he says.

"I don't think either of us are wise enough to tell the difference," she replies.

The idea that she might be right, that maybe this is okay, snaps something inside of him. She's willing to let him indulge just as long she's doing the same. Maybe he won't hurt her by not falling in love. Maybe this is okay. Maybe… Maybe…

He lets go, leaning back against the couch. He's thinking to himself. Wrestling with rationale.

She wants to comfort him, to tell him it's alright. That won't have to change if they don't need to. So she places a hand on his chest to get his attention, but he's so shocked by the sudden contact that he falls back and grabs onto her dress strap as they collapse onto the couch.

He's lying on the couch now with her bodily over his stomach.

She laughs and so does he, both falling away again into natural diffusion.

He thinks himself safe. The burning tension has withered, but just like before, Yang is unwilling to let things end so anticlimactically.

She gets up and sits on his waist. For a moment he's confused until she falls on him like timberwood. His body – the massive traitor that it is – welcomes her embrace with familiarity.

She laughs between breaths.

There's less heat and more comfort. Less passion and more affection. Indulgence in a way that is almost innocent. For a moment he needs to breathe but she clamps over his mouth. His annoyance spurs her on like it's a game. She's still laughing.

Then he opens his mouth. She slips in a tongue by accident.

They shudder.

They're boiling again, eyes shut to whatever is rumbling between them. His hands travel up her legs. A heat crawls over her skin. Then his fingers tease at the edge of her skirt.

She yelps, pulling away.

Yang realizes, rather succinctly, that she wasn't completely ready.

"Yang?"

"I… Okay, I'm not… I don't know about that yet."

His fingers are still on her legs. They're not even very far up but the places he touches tickle in a way that is electrifying.

He slips out from under her as she sits back against the arm rest of the couch. Her body curled up. Guarded.

An ache settles in his chest. "Yang, I'm so – "

She unfurls. "Don't!" She reaches over and grabs his hands. "Don't… Don't apologize. We wanted this, didn't we? I'm just not mentally prepared to do anything but make out right now."

"You make it sound like there's going to be a second time."

"You forget," she says with a grin, "this is the second time."

"Oh."

"Look, Jaune. I think we've got a good thing going on right now. We're not taking anything from each other, we have fun, and we both know that we needed this."

"You're a little more optimistic about this than I am."

"Is that a bad thing?"

"I just hope it means things won't end poorly."

She squeezes his hand. "I don't know what it is that we've got going on right now, so I can't tell you that things won't end well or… not." She scooches closer. "But I'll try my best. Trust me?"

She's so earnest that he banishes doubts long enough to answer. He kisses her instead with the same featherlight comfort she'd given him earlier.

She hums appreciatively. "I think I like it when you say 'yes' this way."

"That a rule now?"

"Maybe. Prepare lip balm. You'll have room now that you won't need that flask anymore."

"I'm not attaching myself to you 24/7. I'm keeping the whiskey."

"I mean, you could attach yourself to me 24/7."

"You can't be serious…"

She slaps his arm, laughing. "I'm not! I'm joking! Lighten up a little."

"Sorry. This is… new to me. It feels like I've skipped a few steps and broken a ton of rules somehow."

"No, I get you, but try not to dissolve into a wet blanket." He pouts. She beams and powers on. "We're two consenting almost-adults here. There's nothing wrong with what we're doing."

"Some people would disagree."

"And some people are wrong and can stuff it." Now that she's calm, she finds that she can still smell the saltwater in his socks. He's probably uncomfortable right now. She stands up. "Now we should both take a bath. This makeup is starting to feel like I'm wearing a mask pressed around my eyes."

"Shouldn't we talk this out a bit more? Lay down some ground rules?"

"In the morning. I'd like to enjoy the prospect of what I can do without having to think about what I can't."

He sighs but warmth bubbles into his chest. "Fine. In the morning."

"Good." She walks up to her door. She stops before she opens it. "Oh, and… don't lock your door."

-0-

It's past midnight when Jaune hears his door open. He tries to squeeze his eyes shut to try to ignore what's coming, but once Yang slips into his sheets and hums happily against his chest, he finds himself painfully aware of the body pressed to his.

"What are you doing?" he asks.

"Being too close but not close enough."

He chooses not to question it.

She slips up further, breath on his neck. She bites. His aura flares up on instinct and she barely gets to his skin, tasting air instead.

"Uh…" he drones awkwardly.

She buries her face into his chest. "Shut up. I was trying to be hot."

"I think we've had enough excitement for one night."

"Lower your aura."

"Yang, c'mon…"

"Jaune…"

He sighs. "Fine…"

-0-

"So this morning, she sneaks up to me while I'm coming into the hallway and she bites me," Jaune says, pointing at his neck. "Then she hands me this bandage before she runs off."

"That sounds dangerously risqué," Joan comments.

Ruby is burying herself in her hood meanwhile, trying to contain her embarrassment.

"That's cause I bit her lip last night for revenge from last time."

Ruby crawls out of her hood and slaps her cheeks. They're still red but she doesn't care at this point. "Okay, so you aren't together?"

"Nora described it as together but not together-together."

"You and I both know that makes zero sense."

"Exactly. That's what makes it perfect. It makes about as much sense as our relationship."

Joan groans. "I can tell Yang came up with that one. It's one of those rules you two talked about, isn't it?"

He nods. "Hundred-percent."

Yang enters the cafeteria and spots them immediately. "Hey, you," she says with a purr. When she sits down, he kisses her cheek.

Ruby retreats back into her hood, gets up, and walks away. Joan rolls her eyes and follows after her.

"You were right," Jaune says, "this is fun."

"Glad you think so. Cause I'm about to sprinkle a bit of madness your way."

Dread hitches itself like prickled grass on his skin. "Okay… Hit me."

"My uncle's coming to Beacon."

"Uh… That's not so bad. Qrow and I are friends."

"No, you don't understand. He saw us at the park and followed us to the apartment to make sure we got home safe."

"Oh… oh, fuck. How much… how much did he hear?"

"Enough to want to meet with your privately. He told me not to tell you. He'll message you later tonight."

"He's going to kill me, isn't he?"

She winces. "Worse."

"What?"

"Qrow wasn't mad on the phone. He was… embarrassed."

Simultaneously he felt relief and yet more dread. "Oh… oh no…"