Black Widow
Chapter 7
Trifa sat at the bar, nursing a glass of cheap whiskey. Her scroll buzzed again, and she ignored it, again; no doubt it was from yet another of her former comrades, desperate to find where she was and why she wasn't at the base.
She hadn't returned back home – if it could even be called that – the previous night. Instead, she had slept in a cheap motel room, one that her and Jaune had never shared, because she didn't want him tracking her. At the thought of Jaune, more tears filled her eyes, and she brought a hand up to brush them away.
She'd done it. She'd broken off contact with Jaune – broken up with him, even – and was now set to turn herself in. All she needed to do was head down to the police station, tell them what happened, and that would be the end of it.
But before then, she wanted a stiff drink.
It was pathetic of her, she knew – she'd made this decision under her own power; she knew what she was getting into when she'd made it. Trifa didn't regret what she was about to do, not at all. The drink wasn't to calm her nerves, or lower her inhibitions; rather, it was to try and help her forget, futile as that may have been.
It wasn't much of an exaggeration to say that Jaune was her everything. And wasn't that a funny thought? She'd only known him for a few short weeks, and yet in that time, she'd come to know him as she'd known no other.
She loved him, she realized. That thought earned a bitter, hollow laugh from her. She really, truly did love him. She doubted he truly felt the same, but that didn't matter; what mattered was that she felt that way.
And now it was done and over with. He was gone; she'd never see him again. Once she left the bar and marched down to the police station to give her confession, that would be the end of it. She reached for her glass of whiskey and drank deeply of it, then slammed it back down; the amber liquid inside sloshed around, coming dangerously close to spilling over the rim of the glass. The whiskey burned all the way down, but it was a pleasant burn, she supposed – if nothing else, it hurt less than the hollow feeling welling up inside her stomach.
In another place, in another time, maybe they truly could have had something together – a true relationship, if not a life. But not here, and not now – not with all the mistakes she'd made. He'd never take her back if he knew the truth, and she didn't blame him for it. But that didn't matter; she wasn't about to turn herself in because she had an illusion that he'd suddenly look past the error of her ways and embrace for who she truly was. No, she was doing it because, above all else, she simply couldn't live with the person she'd become any longer.
Jaune had once told her that her parents would have been proud of her if they'd been alive to see her. At the time, Trifa knew that wouldn't be true, though she couldn't exactly articulate why. Now she knew the truth… and she also knew that this, what she was about to do, was something they would have been proud of. For the first time since they'd died, she'd be living up to their example, and that was worth its weight in gold to her.
A buzzer sounded through the TV mounted above the bar, signifying that another contestant had just been eliminated. It was the semi-finals now; the finals would be taking place later in the day. Trifa had seen a few of them – Team RWBY's match included – but curiously, Jaune and his team had been absent. She wasn't sure why; she could only hope that he'd heeded her advice and left town, but Team RWBY being present didn't exactly inspire confidence in that department. Trifa exhaled sharply, then shook her head.
"Crazy fool…" she muttered under her breath. "Why do you always have to be the one to stick his neck out for everyone?"
It would get him killed one day, she knew, but she was just going to have to take it on faith that that day would not be the day the White Fang attacked Beacon. Jaune was brave, to an almost stupid extent, but he wasn't that stupid, and he at least knew when to pick and choose his battles. The big danger was Adam purposely hunting him down, but so long as he was surrounded by his teammates, he'd be more than okay.
Trifa knocked back what was left in her glass of whiskey, then stared at the ice cubes that remained. That was the last of it – her final drink as a free woman. It wasn't nearly enough for what she was about to do, but she wasn't about to get plastered before confessing to murder. With a sigh, Trifa pushed her empty glass aside, threw some money on the counter, and stood up.
It was time to end it.
Trifa marched through the streets of Vale, numb. Her heart hammered against her ribcage, and her breath came out ragged. It felt like she was in a dream – with every step she took, she swayed from side-to-side slightly, her balance unsteady as tears blurred her vision.
She wasn't drunk, but the alcohol certainly hadn't helped. No, the reality of the situation had finally set in – she was going to the police station to confess her crimes and be sentenced to, most likely, life in prison. It was a fair sentence, she'd decided, and yet that didn't stop her every step from feeling as though she'd been weighted down by cinder blocks.
It was so easy to sit there and say she was going to confess to her crimes, but now, when it was actually going to matter… she had no doubts that it was going to be the hardest thing she'd ever done.
Still, she moved on, making her way to the police station. And before long, she was there. Trifa stood outside the station, looking up at the rooftop, where the words 'Vale Police Department' were emblazoned in white lettering. She swallowed her fear, then stepped inside.
"Can I help you, miss?" a woman behind the counter asked as Trifa stepped through the doors.
Trifa was taken aback, surprised at being addressed so suddenly. "I… um… need to speak to a detective."
The words hung in the air for a moment, and for just a second, Trifa was afraid that her request was going to be denied. Instead, the receptionist nodded, then keyed her headset and spoke into it. After a moment, she turned back to Trifa.
"A detective will be here shortly," she informed her.
Trifa nodded, then took a seat, breathing deeply as she did so. That was the first part out of the way, she supposed.
Now came the hard part.
The detective was there before long – he was a tall, dark-skinned man in a black suit and tie. She rose to her feet, and he extended a hand for her to shake, which she accepted.
"Detective Stone," he told her. "What seems to be the problem, miss…?"
"Trifa," she replied softly. Again, she hesitated. The words didn't want to come out, but she forced them out, because that was what she needed to do. "I… need to speak with you in private, detective. It's about a crime… crimes, rather."
Detective Stone blinked, then motioned for her to follow him. He led her past one of the back rooms, which was filled with cubicles, and into an interrogation room.
Trifa took a seat at the other end of the table facing the door, and Detective Stone sat across from her.
"What seems to be the matter?" he asked. "Something tells me you didn't come all this way for something trivial."
Trifa shook her head. "N-no… no, I'd like to report a crime."
"A crime, you say? What's the nature of this crime?"
"Murder."
That got his attention. Instantly, he sat up straighter. His hand fell to his jacket pocket, and for a moment, Trifa thought he was going to go for his service weapon, but instead he merely withdrew a notepad and pen.
"Okay," he ventured, clearly taken aback. "What can you tell me?"
She opened her mouth to talk to him, to tell him everything, to finally seal her fate… but that wasn't what happened.
Because in that moment, her scroll rang again, with the unique chime she used purely for Jaune's messages.
Instantly, her hand fell to her pocket and retrieved her scroll. She opened it, and what she saw froze her to her core.
It was a picture of Jaune. He'd been stripped naked, then bound to a chair with heavy chains. He was covered in cuts and bruises, and blood leaked from several open wounds down onto the floor. She stared at the picture in disbelief for a moment, unable to accept what she was seeing, but it lasted for only a fraction of a second before her hand began to shake, and tears of rage stung at her eyes. She grit her teeth and gripped her scroll hard enough to almost snap it, but it didn't last, as another message came through from Jaune's scroll.
J: The warehouse. Come alone.
Trifa didn't even need to think past that point. She stood up and, ignoring Detective Stone's protests, stormed past him and sprinted out through the station. Bewildered officers stared at her as she ran past them, but she didn't care.
Her retribution could wait. For now, she had to get to Jaune.
Off in the horizon, the sun began to dip below the clouds, and the shattered moon started to rise high into the sky.
She was running out of time.
Trifa found the warehouse easily enough – it was one of the old safehouses the White Fang had used when they were still operating out of the docks. The area was abandoned, having been cordoned off as a crime scene after the big fight at the docks a few months ago. Still, enough time had passed that there currently weren't any guards stationed around, which made it all too easy for her to make her way inside unnoticed.
The building was darkened and abandoned, but her natural night vision lit the way for her. She crept through the empty, silent warehouse, one hand on the hilt of her concealed dagger the entire time. Jaune's name was at the tip of her tongue, but she didn't dare call out to him – partly out of fear that this was a trap of some kind, but moreso because she was afraid that it wasn't.
If she came face-to-face with him… she wasn't sure what he'd say. He definitely wouldn't take her back – not after she had spilled everything to him. Whatever he had planned for her, she knew it was going to be bad… but she also knew that she had to suffer whatever it was, too.
All the pain in the world would be worth it to her, so long as she could make sure he was safe in the end.
Trifa rounded a corner, heading for the back of the warehouse. She paused when she saw a thin beam of light up ahead, spilling out of a barely-opened door. She increased her pace, pushing her way through the door, only to pause at what she saw.
"Jaune!"
To her surprise, he was there, but not in any way she'd expected. Jaune had been stripped down to his underwear, and was chained to a chair. He was unconscious, covered in bruises, welts, and thin cuts that oozed blood. Throwing caution to the wind, Trifa rushed over to him, and immediately began trying to free him from his bonds.
"So, that's his name."
Trifa instantly froze, her gaze traveling over to the door. Her expression narrowed dangerously.
"Yuma," she hissed as her former ally came striding into the room.
He stopped a few feet away, staring at her, a mixture of disgust and disbelief etched across his face.
"I should have known from the get-go," he said, crossing his arms. "The way you've been acting these past few weeks… it should have been obvious. But I didn't want to believe it – not after everything you've done for the cause. And yet, here we are."
Reluctantly, Trifa stepped away from Jaune, moving in front of him. Her hand fell to her concealed blade once again, and she stared Yuma down with disdain.
"Well, now you know," she replied.
Yuma sighed, then shook his head. "You were so willing to throw it all away, and for what? To make yourself into some human's cocksleeve?"
"Fuck off," Trifa spat. "Jaune's nothing like that."
"He's a human. They're all like that."
"You're wrong," Trifa insisted.
Yuma stared at her in disbelief. "Listen to you," he snarled. "Listen to the shit you're saying. Is this really all it took for you to turn your back on us – on your brothers and sisters in the White Fang?"
"You're all no family of mine," she hissed. "The only family I had is dead. They have been for years. Trust me when I say that none of you even came close to replacing them."
"Is that why you turned to him?" Yuma motioned to Jaune with his head. "Because you wanted a family?"
"I turned to him because he gave me something I hadn't experienced since I lost my parents," Trifa said emphatically. "Something that even the White Fang, with all its promises of a better life, could never give me – genuine happiness. You want to know why I turned my back on the White Fang, for someone like him? It's simple – because he made me happy. And unlike everything I've ever gotten from the White Fang, it was never conditional with him."
Yuma's eyes narrowed. "What a bunch of shit," he said, angrily. "I can't fucking believe what I'm hearing – that you'd so willingly turn your back on us, your comrades, all for someone like him – some nobody, who's on the opposite fucking side."
Yuma reached into his pocket, and withdrew a scroll – Trifa quickly recognized it as Jaune's scroll.
"I've been seeing your messages come in," Yuma stated. "You were telling him everything. For the last day, I tried to figure out what he had on you. I spent hours working him over, trying to beat it out of him, trying everything I could to get him to talk, but he just kept saying the same shit over and over again – that he didn't know what I was talking about; that you'd never do the things you said you'd done in those messages. He thought you were just making it all up to try and get back together with him."
Trifa's heart skipped a beat in surprise. "What are you saying?"
"Isn't it obvious? He doesn't believe any of what you were trying to tell him," Yuma breathed. "I don't know what kind of spell you cast on him, but he won't even entertain the idea of you being the kind of person you told him you were. Even after you broke up with him, he still just wants to see the best in you."
"How did you know-"
"That you two broke up? That should be obvious – I was watching you, that night. Figured something was up – that you'd been acting weird for too long. I wanted answers. Imagine my surprise when I got to see the whole thing from my spot on a nearby rooftop."
"Then, what is all this?" Trifa demanded. "Did you call me here to expose me? What, is Adam going to come out of the shadows and cut me down?"
To her surprise, Yuma shook his head.
"I wanted to offer you a way out," he explained. "I know who you really are, Trifa. Even with all these mistakes, you haven't done anything unforgivable just yet. Nobody knows but me. I'm willing to keep my mouth shut, on one condition."
"And what would that be?" Trifa couldn't help but ask.
"Kill him."
Trifa stared at him, stunned. After a moment, she fixed with the harshest glare she could, then shook her head.
"No."
Yuma scowled. "Think about what you're doing," he implored. "I'm offering you a way back in, Trifa. It's not too late-"
"I don't want a way back in," Trifa said. "I want-"
She was cut off by a sudden explosion off in the distance. Her eyes widened when it was soon thereafter joined by the sounds of combat, and of Grimm, and of sirens in the city. A chill went down her spine when she realized what was happening.
She was out of time.
Yuma's scowl gave way to a grin, and he crossed his arms as he stared at her. "If you were planning to leave the city, then that's no longer an option," he said. "So, what are you going to do now, Trifa?"
Trifa's gaze shifted to Jaune. Faintly, she could make out the soft rise and fall of his chest. Her expression hardened, and her hand shifted to grasp at her concealed blade.
"...What am I going to do now?" she echoed. "Simple: I'm going to do something I should have done a long time ago."
"And what would that be?"
"This."
The words had barely even left her mouth when Trifa acted, firing some webbing out of her hand towards Yuma's eyes at the same time she yanked her concealed dagger out of its sheath and rushed him. Yuma was quick to react, however – he was able to raise a hand and block her webbing, and when she closed in to try and cut into his Aura, he met her blow for blow, matching every strike with one of his own before finally sending her sprawling with an uppercut to her chin.
Trifa was unperturbed, however – she leapt to her feet just in time to avoid an incoming blow from her former comrade that left a crater in the concrete floor where she had been lying just a moment prior. Yuma gave her no time to recover, however – no sooner was she on her feet than did he close in one her with a series of wild haymakers, which she was narrowly able to avoid.
Yuma had her stuck in a corner now, her back against a rusted old shipping container. He approached with his fist cocked back; thinking quickly, Trifa fired some webbing from her free hand at a nearby steel storage locker, then pulled, sending the locker crashing into Yuma's side. As he reeled from the sudden attack, Trifa cut the webbing attaching her to the locker, then closed in on him, delivering a series of stabs to his midsection that took huge bites out of his aura. She was left scrambling backwards just in time to avoid a retaliatory strike, Yuma's fist passing so close to her nose that she could feel the rush of air off of it.
The two of them separated, placing distance between each other. Trifa stared Yuma down, her knife held in a white-knuckled grip. Yuma stood there, panting with exertion, only to flash her a cheeky grin before standing up straighter.
"Not bad," he mused. "Then again, you always were one of the better assassins for the White Fang. A natural-born killer, if ever there was one."
Trifa didn't reply. His gaze slid over to Jaune, and her stance tightened. Yuma's smirk grew.
"Do you really think he'll take you back?" he asked. "From what little I saw from those texts you sent, he doesn't know anything about who you really are. How do you think he'll feel, when he finds out the girl he's been dating is actually a cold-blooded killer?"
"I don't expect him to take me back," Trifa said evenly.
"Then what do you expect?" Yuma's smirk faded. "Do you intend to martyr yourself for him? To die in the act of saving his life, in the hopes that maybe, somehow, it will make up for everything you've done?"
"I don't know," Trifa answered. "All I know is that I want to save him, and his friends. I don't care if it kills me, nor do I care that it won't make up for what I've done. None of it matters – all that matters is that they all get to live. If I'm not around to see what happens after all this, then so be it."
Yuma's scowl returned, even deeper now than it was before she had spoken. He let out an annoyed growl.
"After all that, you're nothing but a traitor," he said, hatred leaking from every word. "If you're so eager to throw your life away over nothing, then fine. You can die alongside him!"
With a shout, Yuma charged at her again. With nowhere to run, Trifa was forced to wait until he got in close. She did her best to avoid every incoming strike, and even managed to get a few retaliatory stabs in of her own, but it was feeble in the end – she simply couldn't stand up to Yuma's overwhelming assault. He caught her with a fierce right hook that left her seeing stars, then while her head was still spinning, he grabbed her by the throat and slammed her into the ground, then began to choke the life out of her.
Trifa struggled in Yuma's grasp, gasping for air as her aura flickered to life in order to keep her windpipe from being crushed. She tried to bring her knife around, but Yuma saw it coming, and was quick to bat it out of her grip, sending it sliding across the floor, ending up at Jaune's feet. Desperate, Trifa thrashed in Yuma's grip, trying to pry his hands off her throat, but it was in vain. Out of options, she finally made one last, desperate move – she used the last of her energy to fire a glob of webbing into his eyes.
Against all odds, it worked. Yuma reeled as the webbing covered his face, and his grip slackened enough for Trifa to shake herself free. Trifa rolled out of his grasp, ending up on her hands and knees, gasping for air as she massaged her throat.
It didn't last – a fierce kick to her stomach sent her skidding across the room, breaking her aura and several of her ribs in the process.
She came to a rest next to Jaune. Trifa laid on the ground, her breath coming out ragged. Her chest felt like it was on fire, and it was even harder to breathe now than when she was being strangled – from what she could tell, the sheer force of Yuma's kick had caused one of her lungs to collapse. She writhed on the ground in agony as Yuma approached, tearing the last bits of webbing from his face.
"That's it," he growled as he moved towards her. "It's over, Trifa. You lost. And now you and your boyfriend are-"
Trifa didn't give him time to finish his sentence. Instead, she used what little was left of her strength to reach for the knife next to Jaune's feet, then lash out just as Yuma drew close enough. The blade sank deep into his right thigh, and she tore it down and out, ripping open a nasty wound in his leg.
She paid for it, of course – a strong backhand from Yuma sent her sprawling, knocking out a few of her teeth in the process. Trifa landed on her back, and prepared herself for Yuma to finish her off, but the killing blow never came. Instead, she watched in disbelief as Yuma stumbled, the wound in his thigh spurting blood with every passing heartbeat. She'd severed his femoral artery, she realized. He realized it, too – gone was his bravado, and his killing intent. Instead, he had dropped down to one knee and was tightly clutching at the injury in his leg, desperately trying to stem the fountain of blood that came jetting out every second.
"Bitch…" he breathed. "You think this is over?! You think-"
He let out a sudden wince. Trifa realized that his face was rapidly draining of color, and that his movements had suddenly grown a lot more sluggish and lethargic.
Yuma was dying.
His eyes widened in disbelief when he realized what was happening. His desperation increased, and he frantically clamped both hands over the gash in his leg, but it was no use. The blood continued to flow through his fingertips despite his best efforts. He was already a dead man, and now he knew it.
But he wasn't done.
To Trifa's horror, Yuma rose to his feet, swaying unsteadily from side to side in the process. Shakily, he began to limp towards her, leaving a trail of crimson behind him as he went. His torn artery continued to spurt, showering her with a spray of blood with every step.
"I don't give a shit…" he breathed as he limped over to her. "I'm taking you… with me… both of-"
He made it within a few steps of her, but no further. The blood loss had finally taken hold. With one final step, his legs collapsed underneath him, and he came crashing to the ground. He tried to push himself up, but it was in vain – he simply didn't have the energy. In just a few short seconds, his eyes fluttered, then closed; a few seconds after that, his chest rose and fell for the final time, and one final death rattle escaped his throat.
He was gone.
Trifa stared at him for a moment, but no longer – that was all the time she had before she realized that, just like Yuma, she was also dying. For the first time since she had inflicted his mortal wound, she remembered the punishment her body had been through. Between the broken ribs, the collapsed lung, and the other assorted wounds that came from their fight, she didn't have much time left.
But that didn't matter. If her time was up, then her time was up. But there was still one more thing she had to do.
With black spots dancing on the edge of her vision and her breath coming out as little more than a ragged gasp, she began to crawl. She crawled through the remnants of the warehouse, through the bloodstains on the floor, and over to Yuma's body. She searched his pockets for a key, praying that he had one on him, and was relieved to find that he did. With the key in tow, she crawled over to where Jaune was being held prisoner, and with the last of her strength, freed him from his bonds.
The key slipped from her grasp and came clattering to the ground. Trifa stared up at Jaune, focusing on his chest, desperate to see him breathe just one more time to know that he'd be okay. She watched as his chest gently rose and fell, and a small sigh of relief escaped her.
With her energy completely gone, Trifa allowed herself to collapse against the cold concrete floor, and prepared to drift away to unconsciousness and death.
Just as she felt the last remnants of consciousness begin to leave her, Trifa heard someone stirring from behind. Her first thought was that it was Yuma, not quite dead yet… but that proved to not be the case when she felt herself be pulled into someone's lap, then cradled. Despite herself, a thin smile crossed her face.
This was a better death than she deserved.
She closed her eyes and let out a heavy sigh, prepared to finally let herself go… but it wasn't meant to be. Suddenly, an intense light filled the room, and Trifa gasped as she felt her Aura suddenly be forced back into her, somehow. She let out a soft moan as she felt the warmth flow through her, steadily knitting her broken body back together. Within moments, her collapsed lung was drawing in air again, and her ribs, while not fully healed, were at least well enough that she could breathe comfortably. She greedily gulped down air, her eyes wide with surprise as she looked around.
Her eyes met his, and the two of them stared at each other for a second, both of them uncertain. Words failed her completely; try as she might, she couldn't think of anything to say.
So instead, she threw her arms around him, pulling him close.
"You're safe…" she breathed.
Jaune hesitated for a moment, and didn't return her hug. "Trifa… what happened? I… did I save you?"
"You did," Trifa confirmed. "I think… I think that was your Semblance, Jaune. Whatever it is, it saved me. You saved me."
"My Semblance…" He shook his head. "What's going on? What is all this?"
Trifa stiffened. Slowly, she let her arms drop from around him, then moved enough that she could look him in the eyes again. He stared with curiosity, not anger; an improvement, to be sure, for however long it would last. Once he learned the truth, it would fade.
But that didn't matter. She had come too far to keep him in the dark.
"...I'm in the White Fang," she said. "Was in the White Fang. I'm not anymore."
She motioned to Yuma's corpse, blood still pooling around it. Jaune stared at him in shock, then turned back to her.
"You killed him…?" Jaune asked, stunned.
Trifa bit her lip, then nodded. "I did… he wasn't the first."
"How many?"
"Too many," Trifa said sadly. "I won't try to justify any of them to you. The White Fang told me what to do and who to kill, and I did it. And… you were almost one of them."
Jaune flinched like he'd been struck as realization crossed his face. "That night at Junior's…"
Shakily, Trifa nodded. "...Yes," she confirmed. "I was supposed to kill you."
"You didn't," Jaune said. "Why not?"
"Would you believe me if I said you were too old-fashioned for it?"
"...That's why you came on so strong," he said, shocked. "You wanted to get me in bed – make me vulnerable, and then…" He trailed off, and after a few seconds, shook his head. "...What made you change your mind?"
"You were just… so genuine," Trifa said, a blush crossing her face. "Nobody's cared for me like that since my parents, and that was years ago. I didn't quite understand at first, but I think deep down, the truth is…"
She hesitated, unable to get the words out. Jaune leaned in, gently taking her by the shoulders.
"What is it?" he urged.
"...I love you, Jaune," Trifa said, bitter tears filling her eyes. "And I think I have for a very long time – almost since the beginning."
Again, Jaune recoiled like he'd been struck, his eyes widening in surprise. "You love me…? Then why? Why continue the facade?"
"Because I was stuck," she said, her shoulders heaving. "I didn't know what to do, Jaune. If I left the White Fang, they'd kill me, and then you. I was scared."
His gaze narrowed. "Why didn't you come to me?"
"Because I knew what would happen if I did," Trifa said. A small sob escaped her, but she soldiered on regardless. "I knew you'd hate me if you found out who I was, and what I'd done… and I knew I wouldn't be able to handle it. Between dying and losing you, I wasn't sure which one was worse. So I froze, for all the good it did – I killed one of my so-called White Fang allies. I told you the truth. I've lost everything, and it's all my fault – the White Fang is going to hunt me down, and now you hate me, and-"
"You're wrong," Jaune interrupted.
Trifa paused, staring at him in surprise. "What do you mean? The White Fang will-"
Jaune shook his head. "I don't hate you," he said softly. Trifa blinked, surprised. "I mean it, Trifa. I just… I don't know what to think right now, I'll admit. This is… a lot to take in. But I can say that whatever I feel towards you right now, it's not hate."
"What is it, then?" she couldn't help but ask.
"...A lot of things," he admitted. "Relief that your feelings to me are genuine. Happiness that you're out of the White Fang. Uncertainty over everything… and confusion. Lots of confusion. What do you intend to do now?"
That was the question, wasn't it? She couldn't stay in the White Fang, obviously, but it wasn't like she could just allow herself to just keep walking around after everything she'd done wrong – Jaune would never accept that, and neither would his friends. She was going to have to pay for everything she'd done.
There was a loud explosion from up in the sky. Both of them tensed, and after a moment, they shared a glance.
"...There's no time right now," Trifa said. "The White Fang are attacking Beacon, and your friends are there. We have to go help them."
Jaune didn't hesitate. Instead, he nodded. "Let's get going, then."
Trifa took a moment to catch her breath and recover a bit more while Jaune called his rocket locker to him. She watched as he pulled on his armor and retrieved his sword. Once he was geared up, he turned to her and gave her a nod. Trifa drew her dagger and flipped it around, holding it in a reverse grip. The two of them stacked up near the front of the warehouse doors, and then together, they burst through, ready to take on the world.
Her punishment would come later. For now, she was going to help the students of Beacon as much as she could.
Not much to say here. Sorry to leave it hanging like that, but I kinda wanted to just get this one out ASAP. I'm gonna try and get the next chapter out as soon as I can, and then I think there'll be one more chapter after that, and then the fic will be complete. Honestly, this thing should have been finished weeks ago; I really have no excuse for taking this long with it, other than not being happy with what I initially came up with, and needing to rewrite a lot of stuff. My inexperience was definitely showing with this story, but I don't care, because writing it is a good time and it's been a good way to break into writing romance.
Anyway, all that aside, I'd like to get this one finished up, so I'm going to try and get these last chapters published as quickly as I can, schedule permitting of course. I'm about ready to move on to other stories, and finishing this one will hopefully open up another slot once I've gotten done with my certification.
What else can I talk about... uh, I guess the new Lorna Shore tracks are fucking awesome? I really like the two parts of Pain Remains they've put out so far; the first part is easily my favorite track off the entire album so far, but the entire thing hasn't dropped yet, so IDK. Kinda hoping they blow me away with some of the other unreleased tracks on the album, but honestly, I'm not too worried - Lorna Shore has always been a really solid group with a lot of talent going for them, so I'm sure whatever they put out will be fucking awesome.
Besides that, I've got nothing else. Hope you all enjoyed, and I hope to see you next time!