Chapter 17: Making Amends.
In a way, self-reflection is a special kind of masochism. Open up an old wound in hopes that the pain won't let you forget what you did wrong. And then do so regardless.
One would be surprised to realize just how quickly time can pass when one barely has enough of it to get their brains to assume a shape other than a steaming heap. A draining mixture of mind-wrecking classes followed by hours of grueling physical training mixed and enhanced by additional activities, extra credit assignments and increasingly often setouts into the wilderness would ensure a minimum of fourteen hours would be yanked straight from under the nose of the unsuspecting Hunter trainee. Turned out that even being tutored by the strictest and some of the most competent instructors back in Atlas would not be enough to prepare Weiss for the first months of training at Beacon. The fact that some of her teammates would spend a part of those precious ten remaining hours to tinker with weapons at the armory or simply pump iron at the gym was unexplainable to her by anything other than them actually being some variety of taurine Faunus, even though this theory would shatter like glass in the case of at least one of her comrades-in-arms.
However, despite the initial difficulty curve bordering on ninety degrees in its steepness, Weiss couldn't help but give the teaching staff credit for their undeniable competence, for even now, barely a month and a half into the regiment, she could feel her own improvement. Unsurprisingly, it was the easiest to gauge her advancements, along with those of her teammates, in a spar: a contest of strength, agility, cunning, and will, in equal measure. Equally unsurprising was the fact that of the five, she boasted the least offensive potential when it came to dealing with an opponent that had her as their sole target. Her trusty rapier, normally a weapon of great finesse, allowing her to bind the enemy weapon into an intricate web of feigns, parries and pokes and force the opposition into submission by failing to keep up with the frenetic pace of combat, simply lacked rigidity or strength to sway the massive blades of the scythes that half her team was sporting and proved regrettably lackluster in CQC-style fighting another one of her compeers was so fond of. Her Semblance, on the other hand, albeit great for overwhelming the opponent at range and debilitating them beyond recovery, more often than not required her to pose like a dummy for everyone to charge at and smack at their leisure, thus requiring the adversary to be disabled in some way, shape, or form to be unable to interrupt the channel, which was troublesome to say the least.
And yet now, after hours and hours spent battling Grimm and her own co-students alike, she could not help but realize there was a particular method to the way that each of her compatriots went about fighting. That there was some fleeting, elusive pattern to Ruby's seemingly chaotic dashing to and fro that would sometimes reveal itself to Weiss for a split-second, letting her guess her next attack before it even began. That Blake's game of clones and mirrors was a match two could play and that dispelling one apparition in a certain way could sometimes force her elusive adversary into a position she could exploit. That the amalgamation of unstoppable force and ever burning rage that was Yang had about as much cunning in the midst of battle as a raging bull, an easy target for a matador to bait with a sleight of hand, leaving the animal to charge straight into a wall. That the relentless onslaught of steel and the terrifying embrace of shadow concealing Darius both had the sole purpose of breaching past her defenses and ending her in a fit of battle-induced madness; to attempt to counter him with measures less lethal than his own was a strategy that would only faster facilitate her own demise.
Granted, those brief strokes of genius did not help her to win a spar against the last two in any way imaginable, but at least the losses were not as soul-crushingly decisive as they were in the beginning of their cooperation. Another, more obscure sign of her gradual adaptation to Beacon's outright militaristic drills was the fact that more often than not, she was actually lucid enough to not immediately collapse on the bed yearning for the sweet embrace of death or, at the very least, sleep, after a day's worth of training. That, in turn, led to her having more and more opportunities to reminisce and self-reflect, both practices equally rotten to the core and bearing no fruit other than doubt and anxiety, as she had more than enough opportunities to witness for herself, with the most recent one culminating in her snapping at Ruby five days ago. As of today, the conflict showed no signs of mending, though, granted, it was not escalating either. Ruby resorted to keeping her distance, only ever speaking up during their training routines. Weiss… she wanted to apologize. Light knows she did. Surprising herself, the metaphorical ceasefire between the two had grown into a full-blown peace treaty since that day she oh so impulsively released her pent-up frustration (and, to be honest, a fair amount of jealousy) on her leader after becoming closely acquainted with the finer aspects of Boarbatusk anatomy, leading her to appreciate her partner and chief a great deal. Sure, for a fifteen-year old she had retained an astonishing amount of childish naiveté, which laced her every second phrase and would no doubt be shattered into fine dust after prolonged exposure to the reality of being a Hunter. Sure, her prowess on the battlefield in no way translated into social aptitude, which raised the question of how exactly anyone was supposed to take her seriously as a leader; after all, she herself fell into that trap. Sure, her grades suffered in almost every single subject bar the ones directly related to the killing of Grimm and, strangely enough, engineering, and her attitude in respect to that could be described as negligent at best.
In the end, though, none of those shortcomings were something time and effort couldn't fix. The rampant idealism would eventually give way to rational thought, the official duties could easily be relegated to virtually any other member of the team, herself in particular, and homework was a matter so trifling barely anyone bothered to do it entirely by themselves. Not that it would matter in four years anyways. In a test of mettle, however, Ruby had proven to be surprisingly capable as a leader, able to both rally her team behind her and make the right choice at the right time before the five of them got into water too hot for comfort, though, of course, not every setout went perfectly smooth. But such is life, after all. Moreover, at some point it became apparent to Weiss why Ozpin chose her partner over her to lead their quite colorful ensemble. Whether through his background checks or simply due to his decades of experience in such matters, it took the headmaster the couple hours that they were running through the Emerald Forest to see in Ruby what took Weiss about a month to witness first-hand, namely the fact that unlike her, Ruby genuinely cared for her teammates, herself included despite the multiple times the two happened to be at odds.
The realization, at the time, felt bizarre to say the least. It's not that she didn't care about them. The countless spars between the five of them eventually had the sobering effect of knocking the unjustified superior attitude out of her through steel and lead, giving way to genuine professional respect, and Weiss fully understood the crucial role that each of her teammates played in keeping their team afloat. Whether she could call them friends, however… She was uncertain whether she could even call herself her friend. Quite the opposite, in fact: Weiss was entirely disillusioned about how each of her teammates perceived her; only one of those perceptions was definitively positive. As it stood, Weiss failed to see how she could improve relations with any part of the collective that was not Ruby. Worst of all, she also failed to see why. She knew her teammates trusted her to cover their backs when necessary, and she knew she trusted them to do the same for her. Bringing up personal issues here was not only completely uncalled for, but would also make her a liability. As such, Weiss would be fully content to further keep her distance… were it not for Ruby, who, it would appear, had made it her solemn goal to become the bestest of friends with everyone on the team. And it showed! Quite frankly, Weiss suspected she would have infinitely more trouble getting the squad to come to terms of her leadership compared to Ruby's, which everyone except for her somehow… just went with. For lack of better evidence, she couldn't help but attribute it to the fact that Ruby's approach of actually giving a damn seemed to have her win over the team's sympathies…
…Which only made her current predicament sting all the more. Probably no more than it did Ruby, though. Sticking with one's decisions was one of the traits that defined a Schnee, yes. Impulsiveness and brashness, however, were not on that list. So, yes. Weiss most definitely wanted to apologize. And today would seem like the best chance she'd get in a long while to talk to her face-to-face.
The two had found themselves timing each other in a run against the school's obstacle course, conveniently located at the far end of the academy's complex so that the sound of cracked skulls and broken dreams and aspirations did not sour the mood of the less suicidal attendees. A magnanimous amalgamation of smacking, cutting and poking implements of varying caliber, twisting and turning, snapping out of the hidden crevices at erratic intervals and spinning in the most unpredictable manner, all arranged in a careful disposition designed to trap a student charging headfirst through the gauntlet and knock the life out of them, serving as posterity and entertainment in equal measure. The gauntlet was typically supposed to be run by a Hunter shielded by their aura, but since none of the various injuries inflicted by the dreaded ordeal were immediately fatal or even severe enough to not be treatable by temporary activation of one's aura, some of the more skillful and reckless students had taken to running it barebones, so to speak, competing amongst each other in how long they could make it into the course before getting splattered thin across the surface and timing the rare successful run. To her great and very well reserved pride, Weiss turned out to have the highest success-to-failure ratio amongst her group when running the gauntlet without aura, a title not without merit, as team RWBY was consistently performing better at it than the rest of the first-years, even giving some of the second-years a run for their money. Braving the obstacle course appeared to align very well with her philosophy of combat: evaluate the enemy, plot the course and account for chance of a blade popping out from nowhere to slice at your ankles. Everyday stuff, really.
For today, however, she decided to settle for the role of a spotter, hand hovering over the emergency off-switch, prepared to jump in and get Ruby out of danger's way, should such an unfortunate case arise. Not that such intervention was be necessary, at least at this particular moment. Peeking from time to time at Ruby darting corner to corner in a seemingly sporadic fashion, Weiss had let her gaze wander aimlessly as she indulged in what was arguably the most beloved Atlesian national pastime: hatching schemes and contriving plans. Or, in this particular case, simply thinking how in the world she was going to make up to her partner after she leaves the gauntlet, whether on her own or on Weiss' shoulder. She had much to make up for, a week's worth of awkward and fruitless avoidance only marking the beginning of the list. And yet for all of her inborn and acquired verbal eloquence and finesse, all manner of rational thought had up and left her head for the entirety of Ruby's remaining "training", leaving her mind as blank as it had been four minutes ago and the metaphorical paper with her supposedly real speech of apology as glaringly white as her skirt. It took the blaring of the sirens marking Ruby's triumphant finish to snap her out of the murky waters of solipsism, swampy in their nature. Throwing a fleeting glance at Ruby to make sure she did not require immediate medical aid, which she didn't, Weiss tilted her head to look at the console. It would seem today's run was a success, as Ruby managed to finish three seconds earlier than her best effort. As she tapped the button and headed towards Ruby under the accompaniment of hundreds of gyros and levers shutting down and disappearing into their respective sockets, however, it quickly became apparent that this small victory was about the last Ruby could pull out on this route. Slumped shoulders, exhausted heaving, a cascade of sweat raining down her forehead: the gauntlet had drained Ruby of all of her human strength just to clinch a smidgen of time. Gaining any more would require plotting a new, most likely more dangerous course.
"Six minutes nine. Not bad."
She could tangibly feel Ruby's utter bewilderment as she arrived to the same conclusion that Weiss just did in a matter of a second. 'Twas not a pleasant realization, she was certain.
"Three seconds…" Fully devoid of vigor, Ruby finally allowed herself to come crashing down on the ground, a moan of helpless exasperation escaping her. "U-u-ugh. Can you… help me? Can't… take off… the stupid cuffs…"
"That's because you have to unlock them first…" you dolt. Suppressing the urge to use this word, all the while regrettably noticing an… unhealthy fixation on calling Ruby that, Weiss knelt beside her, stopping her leader's futile attempts to rip the dimeritium cuffs off her wrists with a gentle but decisive sleight. Used less as a restrictive and more as a training tool, those shackles were modified so that the trainee could take them off by themselves after using… that is, if they were capable of assuming a position other than perfectly horizontal, which Ruby most certainly was not.
As the last locking mechanism clicked, opening up the metallic circle, Weiss locked them back and put the shackles into their container, unable to contain a smile from blitzing across her face as Ruby's breath stabilized pretty much immediately upon getting rid of this accursed metal. She was very much familiar with the feeling currently overwhelming Ruby. All of them were, really. Torn muscles and tendons repairing in a matter of seconds; the burning in the lungs vanishing without a trace, as if they weren't desperately gasping for air moments before; the sudden clarity of mind and vision. Shackles of the human body crumbling to dust before their eyes.
At times, Weiss couldn't help but appreciate the cruel irony of creation: in all of Remnant, humans (and Faunus, obviously) were the only living beings capable of tapping into the Light-given potential of their soul, unlocking their aura. And yet... When used to its fullest extent, hardly anyone could admit to 'human' as being the first word to pop up in their mind. She knew she couldn't. Not when I personally know at least three of them.
"You're trailing off again, aren't you?"
Despite being quite rudely interrupted from her philosophical musings, again, Weiss found herself surprisingly not angry with her more down-to-earth partner. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that she herself was absolutely not a fan of her solipsistic tendencies that the winter weather only worsened.
"Maybe. You alright?"
"M-m-mhm. I guess it's back to the drawing board for me…" after about two seconds' worth of silence, Ruby snapped her fingers, as if remembering something.
"Right. Any news from the rest of the team?"
"No. Should there be?" Only now has it dawned on Weiss that she hadn't actually seen the remaining three fifths of Team RWBY since lunch, which in itself was rather strange, seeing as all five of them bar maybe Darius tended to stay together for most days, whether in the library or armory. Whether her failure to question herself about the missing members was testament to the weather having its malicious effect on her, causing her to slowly lose grip on reality, or to the fact she really could stand to improve relations with her own team, she did not know. Neither did she know where in the world the three could be. And only one of the two questions could be. "Come to think of it, where are they even?"
"Blake told me Port had them going to Forever Fall. Something about 'extra credit'. We decided they'd ping me every half an hour so I can be sure they're all right. They should've updated me about the time we headed here."
And how come I only learn about this now?
Probably because you didn't ask.
With this new information, Weiss quickly extracted her own scroll and Ruby's, handing the latter to its rightful owner. Checking her device yielded no results, unsurprisingly. Slightly more unexpected was the lack of messages to Ruby. In a blink of an eye, her eyebrows converged in an expression of concern.
"I don't like this, Weiss. It's not like them to just… leave people hanging like that… Except maybe for Yang. But not for Blake or Darius!" As the suspicions of terrible things further set in, her leader's silver eyes widened in shock and disbelief:
"Weiss… What if something happened to them?"
Much as it made sense for a team leader to concern themselves over their teammates not being in their line of sight for any extended period of time, Ruby's worrying seemed somewhat overbearing to Weiss in the context of their situation. Furthermore, it did nothing to mend that nasty feeling that something might actually be afoul slowly burrowing into her heart. With a sigh, she slightly raised her hand, suggesting Ruby calm down:
"You're overthinking it, Ruby. Unless they decided to split up, which I'm sure at least two of them are smart enough not to do, the three of them should be fine."
"But what if?.."
"Just call them up, for Light's sake!" with the scroll still in her hand, Weiss flung open the contact list, angrily scrolling past lines of text and numbers. Yet just as she was about to initiate a call between her and her Atlesian compatriot, the still of the landscape had been torn to shreds by a thundering sound of a shot being discharged, followed shortly by another one.
For two very, very long seconds, the girls sat in front of each other, both completely silent. Weiss was looking at Ruby, and Ruby was looking at Weiss. Neither wanted to state the obvious. Not until another two seconds passed.
"Weiss…"
"Ruby…"
"Those were Yang's gauntlets," gradually losing any semblance of color in her visage, Ruby finally voiced what the two already knew. The question was: what were they going to do about it?
The answer came in the form of a ringtone going off from somewhere within Ruby's outfit. Hastily extracting the source of the disturbance, which turned out to be her scroll, surprising nobody, the girl almost punched a hole through the device trying to answer the call as quickly as possible. She was greeted by a featureless metal mask, the two eye slits being the only thing to differentiate it from a hunk of metal, and through those slits a pair of familiar grey eyes was looking at her, a tiny flicker of black mist fading in an out of existence in their corners.
"Darius to Ruby," the mask began, and Weiss could not help her but breathe a sigh of relief based on the fact that her teammate's voice sounded calm and undisturbed. She was sure Ruby felt the same thing. Their joy, however, was short-lived, as Darius' next words dashed their assumptions in his typically laconic manner:
"You may have heard those two shots. We are currently having half of this forest's Grimm closing in on our location. Urgent reinforcements required."
There is a rather widespread joke outside of Atlas that this particular kingdom's population is not increased via conventional means of intersexual conception, but instead new Atlesians are conscripted directly from the great beyond in its yearly drafts. For Atlesians themselves the joke is as funny as it is true, which is to say absolutely bloody not. Still, in every joke there is a grain of truth, and while the proud northerners do prefer to grow their offspring inside each other's bellies and not vats, the jest itself is, in fact, rooted in reality. All Atlesians, men and women alike, are drafted into the military by the ripe old age of sixteen, where they proceed to serve a full year regardless of their designation. Those who have undergone education in a combat school beforehand and unlocked their aura serve double, whereupon they are granted entry to the more… niche military groups, and those who chose to step upon the arduous path of becoming a Hunter serve additional four years on top of that, where they receive their training. No Atlesian is exempt from this rule: neither rich nor poor, bright nor dull, subdued nor unhinged. Indeed, only dead can escape the draft, which, thankfully, does not impact the suicide statistics of the kingdom.
Weiss, however, was not dead, and, as such, had served her due, although it only was one year and not two on the account that she had not officially studied in a combat school, even if the private tutors the head of the Schnee family hired offered a training regimen beyond what most graduates could ever dream of. Nevertheless, despite a year's worth of rest from the military, Darius' brief field report instantaneously awoke the dormant memories of constant drills and involuntarily acquired jargon, flipping a metaphorical switch in her head. Without a second's delay, she responded in full compliance with the standard protocol the sergeants made sure the new recruits would remember in their sleep:
"Copy that. Specify coordinates and report casualties."
"Broadcasting coordinates," a couple taps on the scroll later, a notification popped up on Ruby's scroll and Darius continued. "We will be retreating westwards, our location is updated live. Be advised: we have a Hunter down, squad thirty-three percent operational; our mobility is limited. Also, hello Weiss."
Wait, what?!
"Hold on, hold on!" silent up until this moment, Ruby immediately cut in at the mention of a casualty. "What do you mean you have a Hunter down?! What happened?"
"Seconded. There are three of you, what could possibly happen to you?!"
"See, you say that…" he quickly looked around, making sure there were no uninvited participants in the conversation. "…But Blake got smacked across the face by a Major, and then across the head by a tree. So it's really just the two of us… which is further reduced down to just me because Yang is carrying her. I kind of have to fend off for all three of us, so it would be real nice if you guys showed up. Swiftly, if possible. Darius out."
As the mask vanished from sight, the scroll's screen immediately redirected to the map of the general area, with one dot slowly nearing the academy's building, leaving the two girls staring slack-jawed at each other.
"We gotta help them!" Always the first to show initiative, Ruby, having already recuperated from her run across the gauntlet, sprang up on her feet and stormed off towards the weapon rack, grabbing her Crescent Rose. With the scythe in hand, the redhead charged straight off the cliff, giving her forward momentum with a shot against the ground. Quickly realizing that her scroll was not synched with Ruby's and, as such, could not track her teammates, Weiss followed her leader with nary a second thought, paving a way of white round platforms towards the forest. Desperately trying to not lose Ruby from sight, she herself was torn between cursing the fate for playing such a sick joke on everyone involved, cursing her teammates for fucking up this royally, cursing Grimm for being Grimm, cursing Ruby for rushing in without a second's worth of thinking beforehand, cursing herself for not stopping her, or all of the above. The last option was especially tempting.
As the crimson tops of the Forest of Forever Fall grew taller and taller, taking up more of her line of sight, Ruby, by now having descended upon the ground and leading the way in their charge, picked up even more speed, rapidly gaining distance from Weiss, and despite her innate supernatural capabilities of a Hunter and the energy of a full vial of Lightning Dust coursing through her veins, it became more and more difficult to keep up. Completely preoccupied with measuring her breath to at least not lose sight of her leader before entering the forest itself, shouting to get her attention was not an option. Even if she could, it was unlikely that Ruby would hear her through the deafening sound of the wind rushing past them at what would surely have to be approaching the speed of a sports car. Really, her only option was to continue running and praying they did not run into any authorities in the forest, most importantly a certain principal.
Yet as the marsh's relatively even ground was replaced by the harrowing landscape of Forever Fall, it became clear that the two would inevitably get separated, with Ruby storming past the woodwork in a dazzling flash of zigzags before disappearing out of sight, a resounding crash of a sonic boom indicating she used her Semblance. Weiss, now alone in the middle of a forest, wisely chose not to attempt chasing her any further, but instead to try and contact her via scroll. Boy, this sure doesn't seem familiar.
Step one: reload.
Fling open the safety lock and eject the expired vial with one hand, take the replacement out of the belt and jam inside with another; the four motions took no longer than a second and a half, rehearsed and repeated countless times over the last month. Unsurprisingly, swapping out Dust vials on the fly turned out to be essential when fighting against Grimm, and Weiss' usual case for them proved to be much too cumbersome to continue using. Thankfully, fashioning an alternative on the right side of her combat outfit wasn't hard.
Step two: where am I?
With Myrtenaster on the ready, Weiss swept the area with her eyes, both in search of hostiles and clues as to her partner's whereabouts. She found none. It appeared fate would see her stranded in a clearing of sorts, a surprisingly spacious gap between the dense woodwork, devoid of pretty much anything worth seeing; an incredibly unremarkable place, really. But it wasn't sightseeing that she came here for, and so far, no Grimm have crossed her sight. And that bothered her greatly.
'The Forest of Forever Fall is dangerously deceptive,' Goodwitch's words echoed through her mind, adding to her innate paranoia. 'Aside from the trees, the dense shrubbery also provides excellent cover for Grimm that favor ambush tactics, like Beowolves or Cheshers. When fighting them, however, excessive noisiness will spell your doom, as the echo travels surprisingly far there. A gunshot, for instance, can attract Grimm from several kilometers away, not to mention the various natural hazards and the wildlife. When operating there, which all of you eventually will, I promise you, keep low and rely on those of you who have not succumbed to the allure of the shiny new bling-bling.'
It couldn't be, it simply couldn't, that Yang's ridiculously loud gauntlets did not attract the attention of Grimm in this area, and considering that the two of them had made it reasonably far into the forest before getting separated, they were bound to run into at least a couple on their way. It's not that there weren't any monsters around here at the given time, it's just that she couldn't see them. They were there. Watching intently. Hiding just out of sight, waiting for her to look the wrong way. Had to be.
In the dead stillness of the forest, where even wind fell silent, rendering the leaves of the surrounding trees motionless, Weiss could feel her own pulse quake her entire body as it reached the speed which would surely rupture the heart of a normal human, yet flooding her bloodstream with a tsunami of adrenaline, sharpening her senses to unparalleled heights. Every little vein on every leaf, every beetle in the tree crust, every grain of earth and mud on the ground became recognizable to her, and time itself had slowed to a crawl. And in that statuesque posture, with Myrtenaster raised high and with the icy outline of a Glyph materializing in the air beside her right hand, she stood, and waited.
And at the very peak of this tension, where her fingers had blended with the folds of her skirt from clutching her rapier, a barely audible whizz from behind her roused the spring that was Weiss' body, unleashing the avalanche of stored up energy. Within no longer than a millisecond, the outline of the Glyph changed from snow white to fiery red, reflecting the immediate activation of one of the cartridges in the sword. Yet instead of casting anything, Weiss simply swiped behind her back, sinking the trigger into the hilt, discharging a good half of the vial onto the blade. Travelling from the ricasso to the point in a literal flash, a colossal flame arc surged from the rapier towards what seemed to be a… vanilla cake flying directly at her, incinerating it instantaneously. However, the remaining ashes somehow maintained their forward momentum and course, landing square into Weiss' face.
Having still not processed the shenanigans occurring to her, Weiss gasped in a fit of panic as her vision became obscured by the smoldering soot, inhaling a handful of cinder and immediately bending over in a coughing fit. And yet despite a thick layer of ash covering her eyes and with her own coughing deafening her, she could make out an all too familiar laugh.
"You know, I thought lobbing a cake at you would be funny, which it was. But you getting a faceful of ash is actually hilarious! You should have seen…der your face!"
"That's not even a word, Yang," a second voice joined the conversation, clearly belonging to Blake, who, by the sounds of it, was heading in her direction, as well as having none of Yang's supposed humor, as it tended to be the case for the most times. "Did you really have to waste a perfectly good cake just to ruin her outfit?" Having finally rubbed the soot off her eyes enough to regain sight, the first thing she saw was Blake extending her a tissue; still in a state of shock, she just took it.
"Trust me: it was not a good cake," Blake's accusation was lazily dismissed with a wave of a hand and a smirk. "I baked it just to toss into Ice Queen's face. Worth it, I say."
"What is the meaning of this?!" As the realization of the prank played on her finally set in, the victim's face lit up in a bright hue of crimson, starkly contrasting with the black streaks on her once flawlessly white outfit, caused partly by embarrassment, partly by great fury. Yet as Weiss was just about to lash out in the angriest of rants, her ears caught the sound of what seemed to be many gyros and pulleys being driven into motion all at once. She turned around just in time to witness Darius, having materialized out of nowhere in his traditional fashion, hopping down a tree branch with a long rope clenched in his fist. As his boots struck the ground a couple meters away from her, the intricate contraption revealed a long banner stretching between two trees, reading 'Happy Birthday!' For whatever reason, the handwriting, albeit adjusted to span two meters worth of cloth, reminded her strongly of Ruby's.
"The meaning," he snickered, his face split practically in two by an ear-to-ear smile. "Is 'Happy birthday, Weiss! We're really glad to have you with us.' Granted, only one of those statements is factually correct, but still: happy birthday!"
"My birthday is only tomorrow, you insufferable bru… oh." Interrupting herself mid-insult, Weiss couldn't help but press her lips together as Darius' congratulation sunk in a bit further, accompanied by the Atlesian's chuckling growing into full-blown guffawing.
It's unlike him to just get a rise out of people. Guess it's just gonna be the day of making me the butt of any and all jokes.
Hm. Beats the other birthdays so far.
"You know… for a Schnee, you're really bad at thinking before speaking."
If she could roll her entire body as she did her eyes at this remark of Blake's, she would. Nevertheless, despite neither of the two actually seeing each other's faces, Weiss was certain that Blake fully grasped the exasperation in her body language, as no further accusations followed.
"So let me get this straight," with her initial confusion fully gone, she decided to sum up the absurdity of the situation, mostly to clear it up for herself. "You guys have been setting this up in secret under the guise of 'extra credit assignments' from Port and then had Ruby lure me here when you were done."
"Yup," Yang responded.
"So the whole spectacle with you calling for reinforcements was fake as well?"
"Eh… Kinda. Tall, dark and crafty over there suggested we don't actually tell Ruby when and how to get you here when we were ready, so we... improvised. Kinda understand why, too."
"Do tell."
"Well, Ruby couldn't fool Jaune if her life depended on it, so-o-o we had to have her be genuinely concerned for a second before realizing what was happening. Worked out, as you can see."
"Makes sense," Weiss conceded. Two questions were still lingering in her head, however. "But why?"
"Don't ask us. Ask her," Blake shrugged. "She's the one who came up with the idea."
"Where is she, then?"
"Making sure the exclusion field is working fine and fetching some things. She..."
As if on cue, a gust of wind suddenly rushed past the trio, culminating in a familiar figure materializing in the middle of the clearing, a parcel of cloth in one hand and a basket full of what seemed to be various foodstuffs in the other.
"...Should be coming back any second now," completely unfazed, Blake finished her sentence and approached the leader of the group, accepting the goodie bag from Ruby. "Hey. Generator working fine?"
"Yep. The Dust should last us until evening..." as Ruby's gaze shifted onto the reason for the festivities, Weiss saw her shoulders slump and any trace of confidence vanish from her eyes.
Oh no. This again?
Unbeknownst to her, the rest of her team somehow vanished out of sight in an instance, leaving her alone with Ruby in the clearing. With a sigh, she resigned herself to yet another round of talking on topics none of them actually wanted to. Sitting down on a nearby log, no doubt repurposed by the team as temporary benches, she beckoned Ruby to do the same.
"Ruby."
"Weiss..."
"What is this all about?"
"It's… about your birthday?"
"I figured that much," Ruby's attempt to weasel around the topic failed miserably as Weiss locked eyes with her. "Why? You wouldn't even know it was gonna be my birthday tomorrow if you didn't poke around behind my back, which…" interrupting herself mid-sentence, she rubbed her temple in search of the most fitting description of their unfortunate falling-out. "Caused that entire mess back on Sunday. For which… I am sorry. I… I really shouldn't have snapped like that."
"But that's the point, Weiss!" Evidently frustrated by Weiss' failure (or even refusal) to understand, Ruby threw her hands sky high in exasperation. "We know absolutely nothing about you other than what is common knowledge or what we can see with our eyes, but you hide even that! Why are you so… reclusive?"
"Ever thought I might be an introverted kind of person?"
"Yeah, so is Blake! Doesn't stop her from cracking jokes at someone's expense… from time to time, that is," with her argument so easily refuted, she pressed her lips together in irritation.
"Look," Ruby continued. "From what I did see, you… might have some family issues you don't want to talk about."
"That would be correct, Ruby," Weiss gritted her teeth, to the point where she could feel the enamel being ground off of them. "And they are none of anyone's business, if just for the fact that none of you would be of any use solving them."
"Maybe," her leader agreed, calmly gesturing her to follow her example and just chill a little. "And if you don't want to, you don't have to tell us. Won't make us less of your friends. Or... me at least. You're probably right and we can't help you deal with these problems, but… neither can you."
As Weiss' left brow jumped to her hairline in surprise, Ruby scrambled to elaborate, her voice shifting towards a more apologetic tone:
"I know this is gonna sound… well, pretty rich coming from someone whose home is a couple hours of driving away, but you and your family's problems are an ocean apart and four years of training away. Or at least a year if you're planning to return to Atlas for summer." Not happening. "Whatever it is, you probably can't solve them from here and you can't wallow in self-pity for our entire training. A Hunter team can't work if a fourth…" Ruby immediately interrupted herself with a strange hybrid of a hem and a cough upon realizing her mistake. "Fifth.. of it is not fully committed. I… just want you to think on it."
And so she did. And then some more. But no matter from what angle she looked at it, there was no counter argument she could find that could justify her further chastising herself for leaving on the terms that she did.
Is that not why I'm here? Didn't I decide I wanted nothing to do with my family in its current state? Is this not, after all, for me to find my own center?
Sure is. In the end, it boils down to the question: "Why do I even care?"
Or do I, even?
No. No, she definitely cared. She would not abandon her family's legacy over a squabble with her father and she definitely would not hesitate to wrest it back from those who have taken agency over the company from the family who founded it. But this would have to wait. After all, if it did come to conflict, seizing what is rightfully hers would be magnitudes easier with the training and authority of a Hunter. But that, as Ruby correctly put it, was four years away. And after all, who knew what those years could bring?
"You've been thinking a long time what to say, Ruby, haven't you?" After what has taken her a solid five minutes of thinking, she spoke back up, rousing Ruby from her idle sitting.
"The entire week, really. I'm not good at the whole inner conflict solving thing. Though I feel I'll have a whole lot more opportunities to practice."
"Probably," Weiss grinned. She felt… a lot more relieved than when she woke up this day. "Did a pretty good job for your first time, though."
"I did?!"
"Yeah. You're right. That family is thousands of kilometers and a longer timespan away than it is reasonable to plan for. Maybe… maybe I should concern myself with this one some more."
"Yay… So, can we move onto the fun part?"
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"We still have everything set up for the birthday party," Ruby explained, pulling out a scroll from inside her skirt. "I'll call the guys. Something tells me they won't hear me from here even if I shout."
How tactful of them.
Having called up one of the teammates whose name Weiss couldn't be bothered trying to decipher from behind Ruby's scroll, the team leader beckoned the group with a tired "You can come over, guys. I think that's about enough soul-searching for today." Immediately the whistling of metal cutting through air echoed through the clearing, followed by the terrible creaking of a tree falling over. Yet it had not culminated in a resounding sound of the trunk hitting the ground, and after about a minute, the two had witnessed why. Coming out of the woods, Darius and Yang were carrying a massive log analogous to the one that Ruby and Weiss were sitting on.
"Judging by the much less sour expression on both your faces, I'll go ahead and assume you two have found a way to put whatever has been troubling you to rest, for now at least." Managing to be tactful and blunt at the same time, Darius beckoned Yang to put down the log about a meter away from the other one, leaving space for what Weiss assumed would have to be the bonfire. She wasn't wrong. Having followed the strongmen duet, Blake showed up carrying a pile of sticks and branches that all looked easily flammable, along with several logs that would make up the main fuel.
"Which is nice, because now we get to do the fun things you're supposed to do at a birthday party, like pulling Weiss' ears," already excited by the prospect of tearing the heiress' ears of, Yang rubbed her hands as she sunk onto the log in front of them, inching closer to Weiss. "Or should we leave that until after we give her the present?"
"You leave my ears alone, you maniac!" For no reason at all, Weiss felt a strong urge to grip her sword just in case. "Hold on. What present?"
"You know, for someone as rich as you, you'd think you'd be familiar with a concept of a birthday gift," having carefully arranged the assorted kindling for the fire in an orderly pyramid, Blake quipped as she sat down closer to the far end of the log, right leg on left, sparks of mild mischief dancing in the depths of the amber eyes. "Anyone got a lighter?"
"We've got better," Darius chuckled as he, too, approached the party. Pausing before the log, Weiss saw his brow shoot up for a second and his eyes dart side to side, halting momentarily on each of the two girls on the different sides of the log, before simply shrugging and plopping down between the two. "So Ruby. We've been working for a week on this thing. About time we present it to the rightful owner."
"Might as well do it now." With that, the redhead extended her hands, offering Weiss the parcel she had been clutching the entire time. Despite, admittedly, her piqued curiosity, Weiss carefully accepted the roll, immediately noticing that it would be too weighty for a simple piece of fabric. Yet as she unwrapped the rather mundane looking packaging, she was left speechless.
Staring at her was her own reflection, projected from about thirty centimeter-long blade, polished to absolute perfection, curved slightly upwards for easier cutting. The guard, while similar in its design to that of her rapier, was made to be much less obtuse, evidently to ease the movement of the holding hand, as was befitting a dagger: for instance, the four protrusions that served as wrist guards on Myrtenaster were not present there, although the remainder of it reminded her very much of her sword, with even the Dust dispenser copied to the exact proportions. The locking mechanism of the hilt proved to be identical to the rapier, allowing the barrel to be easily accessed for Dust refill, and the cartridges were the exact same size as Myrtenaster. Convenient. Flipping the dagger over, Weiss found a very peculiar engraving on the blade, closer to the guard: a fiery bird with its wings spread wide clutching a rose in its claws. Weiss chuckled at this bit of improvisation on the side of the creators: what appeared as a singular emblem would actually have to be an amalgamation of two: the bird, or, to be precise, a Phoenix, could be easily identified as the traditional sigil of the Silva family and their now extinct company. Logically followed, the rose could solely mean that a certain redhead had her hands in the creation of the dagger.
Taking the weapon in a proper grip, however, Weiss noticed that something didn't quite fit. Swapping grips didn't help either: it felt as if their measuring was off by a bit when they were making the handle. She could not get rid of this terribly irritating feeling that her fingers were just millimeters off their ideal position, that she had to twist her wrist just that little bit more to make it feel off…
Am I supposed to be fighting with this instead of Myrtenaster?..
Hold on.
As she gingerly took the dagger into her right hand, a sigh of relief involuntarily left her lungs. Despite her not having exercised with an off-weapon for far too long, the weapon essentially fused into her hand, immediately alleviating all concerns, even as she swapped her grips several times to get a better feel for it.
"I hope the handling feels fine," having taken notice of her finagling with the weapon, Darius decided to cut in. "For obvious reasons we couldn't get any decent measurements or data on how you hold things in your right hand, so I had to take a long, hard look at how I wield my own weapons and shape the grip according to the differences in my main and off-hand. Adjusted for you, of course."
"It feels great," dropping all formalities, Weiss conveyed her adoration for the new toy with full honesty. "You guys did an amazing job. Does it… have a name?"
"It doesn't, actually, and neither does it have a sheath, so do be careful on the way back. Ruby insisted we don't waste fabric on trying to make it fit with your outfit and just let you do your thing. I did, however, snoop around in some dictionaries out of curiosity and looked up some of the fancier old-Atlesian words, so unless you have something in mind, I might suggest one."
"Hm. Not really," Weiss hesitated, before turning to her leader. "Ruby?"
"Nope," an immediate refusal followed. "I'm not good at naming things. Even Crescent Rose isn't my idea, that's what my uncle called her."
"Let's hear it, then." Weiss shrugged. It's not that she placed some sacramental value on naming her new weapon, but with Myrtenaster having served her true all these years, it felt rather unjust leaving the dagger nameless, especially considering it was partly born of the same smith.
"Well, seeing as Myrtenaster… pretty much stood for a glorified myrtle, I thought we should keep the flower theme. What do you think of Mondtulpe?"
A tulip, huh?
"Why not," she agreed. She then threw a closer look at the guard. Something caught her eye: a detail not present on her rapier. "Hm. Got a question."
"Go ahead."
"Why is there a safety lock on the trigger?"
"It's not a safety lock," Ruby intervened, her eyes lighting up in that feverish excitement that she would get every time she got an opportunity to talk about weapons, whether her own or others. "It's the opposite, actually. It makes sure the trigger is still depressed even if you let go. You kinda need it when you use it."
"Do tell?" Just how much Dust am I going to go through if there's a lock that is supposed to keep it flowing when I'm using it?
"Showing will do better!" Retaking possession of the dagger, Ruby spun up the barrel, stopping it with the red cartridge on top. "The trigger is designed for varying sensitivity, so you can control better how much Dust you inject at once. The alloy in the blade drains a part of the energy in the Dust so that it doesn't immediately detonate when subjected to air."
With that, she slightly pressed the trigger, engulfing the blade in flames as fire Dust surged through the metal, leaving a burning residue in the air. She then traced a burning triangle in the air and just… left it there.
"See that? That's a sign. Or a glyph. Or a rune. Or whatever you wanna call it. We've done some testing with Darius and it seems that their function changes depending on the shape and on what you intended it to be when tracing. You'll have to mess around with it yourself, see what works for you. Now you just need to activate it kinda like you activate Dust a-a-and this one should make a bit of a fireball, just enough to light the kindling. I'd activate your aura if I were you."
With everyone armored up, Ruby concentrated on the signand pointed the dagger at the pile of wood. Just as expected, the shape morphed into a burst of fire and surged towards the sticks, combusting them immediately. As the warmth of the bonfire and the crackling of wood spread through the air, Ruby handed the gift back to Weiss, who accepted it with a newfound interest. This sounds really weird. And fun. I should mess with it when we get back.
"Well isn't that nice," Yang remarked, putting her hands closer to the fire, a sly grin spreading across her face; a harbinger of terrible things. "You could say…"
"No," Weiss chopped off the pun before Yang had even a chance of making one… Simultaneously with Blake and Darius. All three exchanged puzzled glances, surprised less by their shared dislike of Yang's attempts at humor, but more at their unanimity when voicing said dislike. The perpetrator, on the other hand, seemed visibly upset.
"Jerks, all of you. I mean, come on! Be mad all you want after I made the pun, but at least let me make one!"
"Yang, that's like saying 'Sure, you can borrow some money from me, just let me rob you first!' Damage is already done," with a look of eternal torment on his face, Darius explained the devious fallacy in Yang's argument, unknown whether intentional or not. Knowing Yang, though…
"Yeah, or 'Sure, you can slap me, after I've cut your arm off'," Blake added, earning herself several raised eyebrows, including one from Weiss.
"While… needlessly graphic," after a second of silence bordering on awkward, Darius seized the torch of the conversation for himself. "It does get the point across, which would be: stop with the stupid puns."
"But that's my shtick! I can't just leave it!"
"Do you not have other, less annoying shticks? You know… besides being pissy about your hair and seeking to bang everything that walks on two legs and looks vaguely human?"
"And why are you concerned?"
"I'm not. Should I be?"
"No, that's the point!"
"What point?" Despite Darius' tone shifting towards a strictly more naïve and innocent one, Weiss couldn't help but notice that the corner of his lips had stretched just a little too far than required to correctly pronounce the words he spoke, and in his wide-open eyes she could see the excitement of a hunter with a trap set up in perfect fashion.
"That you're not getting any of this at any point in time, you dummy!" With a smug smile, Yang traced a finger across her more than ample curves, confident in her having the upper hand in this exchange of banter. Little did she know.
"Really?" Darius' surprise was so obviously falsified, it was apparent to everyone present. "Now that's just a blatant lie, 'cause I recall, quite vividly, having you six ways from Sunday during our last spar."
"Oh, you Atlesian douchebag…" although Yang's hair did brighten for a moment, she got her temper under control equally quickly, correctly judging that it would not be the best idea to spontaneously combust in the middle of a forest. "Are all Atlesians like this?"
"No. But I do consider myself a prime specimen of my people," with unparalleled levels of smug, Darius ran his hand through his hair, doing his best impression of a wheelbarrow chest.
"You guys must suck," Yang immediately bit her lip after that, realizing that maybe she took the game a bit too seriously for a moment. "Okay that was not nice. Sorry."
"Fun and games, Yang. Fun and games," in a sign of friendship and peace, Darius extended his fist, upon which he was bumped by Yang's.
"It's like you two don't fight enough in the ring and have to duke it out outside as well," Blake remarked, skeptically gazing upon the exchange that has gotten all-too familiar in the last couple months. "Do you not get tired?"
"Have to keep my wits sharp somehow," the Atlesian shrugged. "Jaune, much of a friend that he is, doesn't bounce insults as well. Besides, she seems entertained," he then pointed at Weiss, who only just now realized she's been sitting with a disproportionately large grin on her face for the entire duration of the exchange. "All three parties benefit. Well, maybe Yang less than the other two."
"It's cool," the blonde chuckled, tossing a mocking glance at Weiss. "So, princess. Realizing yet what you've been missing out on in the last months?"
"Slowly," she admitted. "I… really have to thank you guys for dragging me out here. None of my previous birthdays really compare."
"Thank Ruby," said Blake, the only one who still had a serious expression on her face. "She got us to do all this. You know…" Several seconds passed before the girl spoke up again. "I feel like none of us appreciate how lucky we were to end up with Ruby. Think of it: about a week ago, you two got into a serious argument. I don't know what you were talking about, but it must have hurt on both sides."
The two glanced at each other, both realizing that Blake was entirely correct. The raven-haired girl continued:
"So not only does Ruby not hold a grudge, she asks the rest of the team to humor her and set up a party for you, Weiss, and spends the coming week thinking up the right words to console you, along with making this," she pointed at Mondtulpe in Weiss' lap. "I don't know how good she will be in terms of commanding on the battlefield, and I'm not even sure it'll be relevant, as we have more than enough strategic-minded members to get us through fights," a nod at Darius and Weiss. "But I feel that without her we would simply fall apart."
Silence fell over the group, broken only by the quiet crackling of wood in the bonfire. Finally, Ruby, her face equally red to her cape, managed to mutter:
"That… really wasn't n-necessary. You didn't have to…"
"She's right, though," Weiss stated, making sure to catch Ruby's eyes. "I don't what kind of a leader you'll be yet… But I couldn't wish for a better friend, Ruby. Thank you."
"Y-you're welcome?.."
"You see," about half a minute later, as the solemnity of the moment died down and the feelings of camaraderie and companionship slowly waned, Darius spoke up. "This would be a perfect opportunity to raise a toast to our glorious leader… were it not for the fact that none of us drink booze and Ruby is outright not allowed. So, why don't we snack on the occasion? We still have some spare kindling, the fire will last us long enough."
The party did not object. As it turned out, everyone was, in fact, absolutely starving.
It was late in the evening. Weiss Schnee, for the first time in a while, was sitting in the armory, catching a breather after a long training session outside the standard curriculum. The new dagger, as she expected, proved incredibly useful in combination with Myrtenaster, in addition to simply being a ton of fun to use. Sitting on a bench in a state of total relaxation, she was lazily spinning Mondtulpe between her fingers, enjoying the light reflecting off the blade. From time to time, she could swear she could see a tiny, transient vein of red run through the length of the blade, and not the kind of red one would expect from fire Dust.
At some point, an errant thought lodged firmly in her mind, causing her to stop twisting the dagger and instead push open the lock holding the Dust dispenser in its place, taking it out of its lodging. Darius told her that when making the weapon, he decided to not overcomplicate things and simply reverse-engineer the dispenser down to the smallest details so as to not mess up the wiring or circuitry. Obeying the sneaking suspicion, Weiss ran her fingers across the ridges of the device, until her index one ran into a very familiar hidden switch. She depressed the button and twisted the two halves of the dispenser against each other, separating it, revealing two buttons of the hidden, built-in audio recorder: the small goof of the original designer carried on by his son.
I wonder…
As she pressed the button, to her great surprise, a very familiar tune began playing, accompanied by a surprisingly melodic accompaniment of a certain redhead:
'Happy birthday to you…
Happy birthday to you...
Happy birthday, dear We-eiss,
Happy birthday to you-u…'
Best. Birthday. Ever.