Chapter 18: Without The Bitter The Sweet Isn't As Sweet

"And even if it's dark at least we'll be together, slowly sinking in the earth to lay forever..."

"What happened?" Weiss said, her eyebrows furrowed into thin lines. Her chapped lips twisted, forcing out her words. "My father didn't do anything, did he?"

Nex shook his head, settling into his chair. "Nope. We had a peaceful talk. No comments about my extra pair of ears, even."

A glass of water sat on her bedside table.

Nex reached for it, cradling it with one hand. He smiled and brought the refreshment to her lips.

Weiss sucked on the transparent rim, her pale throat bobbing up and down as she drank her fill. When she was done, he returned the half-empty glass to its original place.

"Thank you," Weiss said, breathing a sigh. "What did my father say?"

"Nothing much," Nex said, shrugging. "Just stuff about the past and the future."

"And what would those be?" Weiss said, her fingers groping for something.

Impossible to reach, considering that her wrist was stifled by a lot of pointy stuff.

Nex closed the gap between their hands, wrapping his fingers around hers.

Cold.

So cold.

And so unlike her.

"Apparently, our moms were partners in Beacon. They formed a team with your father," Nex said. "And my ex-boss. Team SSJW. Pronounced as shadow."

"Really? I didn't know that," Weiss said, flashing him a smile. "I always knew that my father was a huntsman, but he never wanted to talk about his past."

"Your mom didn't talk about the past either?" Nex said. "Your father showed me a portrait of their team. The dust rapier you use is your mom's."

"The dust rapier I used. It broke during father's test," Weiss said. "I overloaded it, and one of its shards almost cut my eye out."

Nex wanted to reprimand her for being so reckless. Overloading a dust-based weapon amplified its effects at the cost of certain destruction.

But since when did their roles reverse?

She was the one who scolded people.

He was the one who let things slide.

Apparently, a hospital bed was enough to flip the tables between them.

"Anyways, my mom is complicated," Weiss said, frowning. Her eyes peered into his. "My father, he's—"

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to," Nex said, giving her hand a squeeze. "If talking about it is hard, then don't."

Her family was divided.

A father who drowned himself in work, plotting schemes around his family. For their betterment. Or so he claimed. A mother who seemed to be missing. And an older sister who was trying her best. But one who still chose to live her own life away from theirs.

Jacques let slip he had a son. But not one of his two sisters ever mentioned anything about him. That spoke about the boy more than cumbersome words ever could.

But at least she had a family.

More than him, anyway.

Or more than he would ever have.

"My parents loved each other," Weiss said, pursing her lips. "Back then, everything seemed so simple."

"What happened?" Nex said.

"They argued about the direction of my family's company," Weiss said. "The morally grey area that my father was taking it on."

It was what Jacques implied as well.

Apparently, her father did tell him the truth.

Not that Jacques Schnee was particularly pitiable. He already made his own life choices. Dug his own grave, even.

"It turned into a spat. My father immersed himself in work," Weiss said. "While my mom stepped down and turned to alcoholism. We were there. Caught between their shouting matches."

The fear-stained look ghosted over her eyes.

Nex squeezed her hand, offering her his best smile. Well, probably the best he could manage. It was the only thing he could possibly do.

Something about what she said brought his mother's words to mind. Living a life of sobriety and responsible parenthood, indeed. Those words were probably directed at her partner. And probably even at his father.

Typical of Amariss Shade to care in a roundabout way.

"An argument couldn't really do that much damage, could it?" Nex said. "I mean, look at us."

They argued about things, sure. But only the life and death ones were particularly memorable and worth a storytelling. Whether to risk their lives against the White Fang was one of them.

He lost that battle hard. Stubborn, idealistic women and their strong moral fibres.

Troublesome, even.

Weiss smiled, quirking both of her eyebrows. "No. But I think their marriage was already strained by something. And when my father said that he only loves mom because of her family name..."

"So, did he mean it?" Nex said. "People say or do things when they're angry."

Case in point—him.

Ruby Rose did not deserve the tip of his rage-fuelled spear.

Never did.

"I don't know. They never yelled about it," Weiss said. "But my mom's right. What my father is doing is wrong."

It was debatable.

Maybe Jacques Schnee intended good things. But then again, there was that saying about the road to hell and good intentions.

Still, far be it from him waylay either his partner or her divided family. Certainly not when he did not experience the situation for himself. It would have been unfair. And his partner was probably not looking for a debate in her hospital room.

"That was about the past," Weiss said. "What did he say about the future?"

Nex shrugged. "He trusts me to watch over you in Beacon. Apparently, I made quite the impression on him. Particularly the part where we took back the school."

Weiss laughed, the tinkling sound bouncing off the walls. "Why, Mr Shade. It's like you're applying to be my bodyguard."

"Do I pass, Miss Schnee?" Nex drawled, fixing her a deadpan stare. "I'd hate to disappoint."

"Hm. I'll have to think about it," Weiss said with a wide smile, cupping her chin with her uninjured hand. The one on the opposite side of her bed. "Maybe if you wore a white suit—"

"Gods forbid," Nex said, cracking a smirk. "You'll have to make do."

Weiss stifled a yawn, her lids half-shut. "Oh, very well, Mr Shade. Will you be staying here?"

"Sure. I guess," Nex said, bobbing his head into a nod. His fringe ruffled, brushing his left cheek. Well, his hair was getting a little bit long. "I'll be right here with you."

And he would be.

Until his partner was alright.

Weiss grinned, her eyes drifting shut. "Goodnight then."

"Goodnight," Nex said, closing his eyes.

The chair was a bit hard, but he could definitely manage.

Especially with her hand in his.

"This is—"

Weiss sat on the edge of her bed, her eyes fixed on the multi-action dust rapier.

The wooden case lied open on her lap. Six vials of unused dust stood on one side of the box. The rapier was silvery gray—a stark contrast to her mother's crystal-white rapier. It resembled her broken weapon, down to the four prongs on its revolver.

"My partner's missing a sword," Nex said. "I have free time, so I made her another one."

Weiss ran her index over the hilt, her eyes widening. "This is exactly the same as my mom's. How did you even design it?"

Nex shrugged. "What can I say? I have a pretty good memory."

That, and a semblance that analysed her weapon whenever she used it.

It was unknown if its inner mechanisms were still the same. They were based on Oathkeeper's. His mother's choice of armament operated in a similar way, channelling dust from its cartridges. In theory, it would be as if Weiss did not change her weapon at all. The only thing that changed was the colour scheme, but grey was definitely cooler than white.

"Thank you," Weiss said, a smile blossoming on her lips. She closed the box, placing it on her bedside table. "What do we call it?"

The multi-action dust rapier went unnamed during its production, as a huntsman's weapon was personal—a representation of how they approached the world.

Hrunting and Vigilance was unassuming, hiding its true form by separating into two distinct weapons. It almost never revealed its full capabilities, not unless the fight had actual stakes. Coupled with his semblance, it definitely spoke a lot about him. He only used the barest amount of effort necessary to complete a task, never overextending or using all of his cards.

Or maybe he was just lazy.

Well, it was nothing but semantics.

"I don't know," Nex said. "It's your weapon. You get to name it."

Weiss giggled, leaning towards him. She poked his shoulder. Her wrist was bereft of wires and needles, her pale skin already taking on its healthy colour. "You constructed it, Mr Shade. I grant you the honour of naming it."

Nex nodded, his brain spitting out an appropriate name. A pun, even. "Myrtenaster. We can call it Myrtenaster."

"Myrtenaster. It sounds beautiful," Weiss said, pausing. Like she was rolling her tongue around the pun. "Why Myrtenaster?"

"It's after a family of flowers," Nex said, smiling. He always brought some of them to his mother's memorial. "White flowers. Pretty ones. I think it suits you."

"You think I'm pretty?" Weiss said, flushing. She lifted her hand, touching the mark on her face. "Even if I..."

Nex stiffened, his stomach definitely doing back flips. Fire swam through his cheeks, but the words still slipped from his traitorous tongue.

His father asked him the exact question before.

But back then, he never really had an answer.

Pale blue swirled, sucking everything in the room, even as he drew harsh, ragged breaths, his throat tightening like a rattlesnake.

But hopefully, his lips could still spit out an honest answer.

Thank the gods if they could.

"Yep. I think you're pretty," Nex said. Thankfully, he did not sound like a frog croaking out its last words. "Why wouldn't I?"

Weiss frowned, lowering her hand. "It's this scar. I'm not very pretty with it."

Nex reached out, his hand stopping beside her temple. He ran his thumb over her scar, caressing the rough tissue on her smooth skin. Warm like a flat iron. Even warmer than her hand.

"I think," Nex said, his lips curling into a smile. "It makes you even prettier."

"You know exactly what to say, Mr Shade," Weiss said, snatching his outstretched hand. Her soft, slender digits laced through his. A grin stretched her dimpled cheeks, pink-stained under the white light. "I didn't know that you were such a flatterer."

Cloying warmth stuck to the back of his throat. His chest pounded, an army marching at two-hundred miles per hour. His breath hitched, blood gushing through his arteries. The ones on his neck. His lifeline was rioting, almost bursting in his temples, even as she leaned in, just a little bit closer. Her eyes were half-lidded—for reasons unknown to even his semblance.

There was definitely something different about this.

Different from that night in the barbecue place.

Heat raced through his spine instead of electricity, while his overcooking brain came up with a reply. One that would not have embarrassed him or sent him flying into a heart attack.

In hindsight, both were equally possible.

"Oh, my," Winter said, boots stomping over tiles. The door hissed shut. "I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"

His brain crunched to a halt.

Weiss burned tomato, scowling as she threw his hand away. "Sister! Don't you know how to knock?!"

"I know how to knock, little sister. And I did knock," Winter said, placing a stack of boxes beside Myrtenaster's case. Her lips formed her trademark smile. The secretive, ice-queen one. "But nevermind that. We should eat before it gets cold."

Nex breathed a sigh of relief. He had to thank Winter for the save, even if his partner fixed her the Mt. Weiss signature glare.

Nex tossed his camping bag over his shoulder, smiling as his duds fit snugly against the back of his trench.

For the first time in almost ten years, his home was flooded with blinding light.

Every corner of the flat was cleaned and sanitized—well, except for the cobweb-encrusted mirror. The place was also blanketed with motion-sensitive traps. Well, motions not attached to his nanotech bracer.

It was simply taking precautions.

Bargaining with Roman for four minutes to secure his flat for four years was worth the effort. The thief sent him boxes of dust along with the best traps. The ones that would make the most hardened burglars hesitate from breaking into an unguarded bank. One of them even did... certain things to a certain part of the male anatomy.

Neo probably had a hand in that one.

The mute minx sat cross-legged on the brown linoleum, shovelling scoops of ice cream into her mouth. A single pink eye winked at him. She promptly went back to emptying her bowl of fancy, strawberry ice cream. The last of its kind, his fridge having been emptied and plugged off. She was all too happy to teleport his stock of ice cream, alcohol and food to their hideout in Vale, in exchange for her transportation services.

Hrunting and Vigilance, along with Oathkeeper, was attached to the sides his belt. The black leather ran over his waist, keeping his coat fastened to his torso. He wore a plain white tee under his trench. It was practically his apparel as a bartender, except for the stupid tie. Well, his mother's armour would only draw attention in the station.

"Neo," Nex said, swiping at his bracer. Locks clicked around his flat. The lights dissolved into darkness. "It's time."

A hand grabbed his stiff arm.

The world cracked.

White tiles stared at him.

Nex killed the sigh in his throat. He spun and pulled at the door, stepping out of the cramped room.

"Nex?!"

Weiss jumped on her feet. Her eyes swerved, poking holes into the other huntresses in the room.

And him.

Definitely him.

Damn it, Neo.

"Oops," Nex said, turning towards the stone-faced women. He smiled, loosening the muscles of his legs. A hairbrush clattered on the floor. "Stepped into the wrong toilet. Sorry."

He sprinted towards the far door, streaking past a hail of gunfire. His teeth clattered, even as a white blur matched his pace. Right beside him. Glyphs spun into existence, tinkling around his body—blue like hard light. The bullets he could not dodge pinged off his partner's shields. He had to thank her for that one.

But still. Huntresses. Mad. Utterly mad.

Nex panted, leaning against his safety blanket—a hard pillar. A crowd bustled in the station, climbing up the bullheads.

One of them was theirs.

The one going to Vale.

"Nex, why were you in the huntresses' restroom?" Weiss said, crossing her arms. Droplets of sweat raced down her pink-tinged cheeks. "That was quite inappropriate."

"Would you believe me if I told you," Nex said, steadying his lungs. "That I just walked into the wrong room?"

Weiss heaved a world-weary sigh, smirking under her tussled fringe. "It's incredibly sad. But I do believe that you can commit that mistake."

Phew.

He was definitely going to have some words with Neo. The little minx. Preferably words spoken with his weapons.

"So, how do I look?" Weiss said, arching an eyebrow.

Nex blinked. Why was she even asking?

Weiss twirled, spinning a full three-sixty.

Apparently, she was wearing some new duds, Myrtenaster attached to her hip.

When did she get a new combat outfit?

Weiss Schnee was wrapped in a tight, buttoned coat and skirt. Her new attire resembled what Winter wore in the Huntsman's Respite, all white with black accents. But she had something wrapped around her shoulders.

Something Winter never had.

His hood cascaded around her shoulders, its tail resting on the small of her back. Her emblem was embroidered on the midnight-blue fabric, the white snowflake stark against the darkness. The Schnee crest sat right above her heart, mirroring the position of his own emblem.

"You look great, Weiss," Nex said, tapping the marble with his boots. The crowd flowed around them, probably ignoring the obvious pair of huntsman and huntress. "Is that my hood? You turned it into a scarf?"

Weiss flushed, grinning as she fidgeted with the hood-turned-scarf. "You're not mad, are you?"

Nex shook his head. "Nope. I gave it to you, right?"

There was definitely something symbolic about this. Something literary his brain could probably put out.

Weiss was wearing his colours over hers, the midnight-blue almost blending with the black. She even placed her emblem on the fabric—fabric the same colour as his trench. If anything, it only reinforced the idea that they were partners.

"I'm glad. You're not looking half-bad yourself," Weiss said, smiling as she stared at something on his chest. Probably at his own emblem. "Well, shall we go, partner?"

Nex shrugged. "Right. To Vale. To Beacon."

To the future, his brain supplied, as they climbed into their bullhead.

Fun Trivia: Weiss Schnee's new outfit is just snowpea with a scarf. Gotta put that in somehow.